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#this is fucking CRAZY. what the fuck is wrong w me. why do i feel this deeply. whats the point of it
pepprs · 6 months
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my mom was just mean to me for like no fucking reason lol. day ruined
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skunkg1rll · 2 months
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i cant stop thinking abt him... have been doing that all daynd i feel so sad nd my heart hurtsso bad nd i long for him sm it's just a bad day :((
#it's bc i saw that he#uploaded his background which was just nothing. and said that he feels empty#and a couple of months ago before i ruined it all#he said that he had me as his background#so now i feel so fkn sad#i dont know why im like this but i feel so crazy about him i wanna die#i think about him constantly and i'venever ever wanted to be with or know someone this badly#and to know that he sees me as a disappointment... and not good enough for him... and that he doesnt love me enough to wanna fix it#or even have a 'it' with me#hurts so bad#so now im just in an awful headspace...#i hate myself so much#i wish i could go back and not do what i did#i did it bc i thought it'd bring me closer to him#but i was wrong and i didnt understand that until now#and instead it caused him to think im not what he thought i was or what he wants me to be#and no matter how much i try to explain i realize thatonly i understand#bcmy brains broken and no one could ever understand why i do what i do#i am alone. always and forever i will never know closeness or intimacy#the thing is thatbefore i met him i was fine w that#i kinda longed for it but i had resigned myself to a life without it#then i met him nd it felt real nd like it could bereal for me#plus i genuinely like him sm i feel sm for him so i desperately want it w him#but then..... it turned out that im not good enough for him#it just rlly hurts that the ONLY time i've ever wanted someone#and it started w them wanting me back#who i am was a disappointment nd i fucked it up bc of a misunderstanding#that i cant clear up bc i cant make anyone understand my fucked up broken reasoning#i will bealone forever and i just wanna die
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strwbrymlkshake · 1 year
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Why can't I be satisfied with everything? It needs to be perfect to me and I can't accept anything otherwise :(
#mine#oh boy here we go. guy last post was about has been pretty cool and i got flustered around him a few times#but i feel bad bc. i need m o r e he isnt insane enough he isnt making me go absolutely crazy i want to be satisfied but im NOT im sorry#like its quite honestly the most attention acceptance etc ive gotten but its not ENOUGH he doesnt die whenever i send a selfie#im never satisfied WHY i have unrealistic expectations !!!! i hate my brain killing and violence and death etc#i get crushes on guys who want nothing to do with me but then when one actually wants me its not enough? what is wrong with me#thrill of the chase? i cant accept being loved? what is it brain. christ almighty. im not doing anything like deliberately yandere related#anymore im just being generally incomprehensibly mentally ill 🙄 still trying to find a therapist but idk how on earth ill explain that#ill update this post tomorrow with more insanity but for now i am the sleepy tired#// ok its now 3 days later i dont feel like making another post. i think i was just having a mental illness moment as always#because he does make me insane. hashtag girl. im trying to be the smartest and calculated i have ever been with a relationship in my life#like im thinkin about it so hard bro. the future n shit. how would this relationship go. im so scared ill do something wrong its preventing#me from doing things RIGHT. im sad becaude i flipped out today over even imagining him being upset with me a little#so i was really embarrassed and it put me in a weird mood for the rest of the night but he reassured me he doesnt hate me or want me to die#every one aaalways says theyre different. i can only hope this one is telling the truth. i dont know what ill do if he isnt.#well i need to stop whining about fictional scenarios and focus on the good stuff in reality. i get along with him very well and he#is very niceys to me :3 he doesnt think im fucking insane or stupid for overreacting. i feel very comfortable gossiping and talking w him#every long time blog viewer of mine reading this like ah shit here we go again#but thats what im here for. i guess. just have to keep doing this shit until something good finally happens to me romantically hngh#i feel so strange because i have wanted and yearned for a relationship but now that i actually could have one im like WAIT#I DIDNT THINK ID GET THIS FAR 💀💀💀 bruh. and he doesnt even think im stupid hes respectful to me he checks in on me all the time#like perhaps the only person to ever actually almost match my energy in a romantic sense. there was [redacted] i guess but he didnt love me#he listens to me talk about my problems he doesnt think i complain or overreact too much. all the ridiculous cringe shit i do#he doesnt mind it. its nice to be able to be myself. and im really proud of myself for not rushing into a relationship right away
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knifetoheart · 2 months
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this was fucking brutal of the universe tho.
like. the world literally dangled everything i ever fucking wanted in front of me. and showed me that this person i've been looking for fucking exists, she's been on this planet the whole time i just didn't know it.
and then she was here for me, consistently, she loved me, so naturally, it all came so easy i was struggling to believe this was possible.
and then just as i bonked myself on the head for being stupid and started to believe i'd get to have something this good. well.
rug pull moment. sike. you can't have it actually. it was never possible for you to have it but now it's extra impossible:) oh yeah and stuff is going to happen to her, which will lead to her pushing you away. you won't ever get to see the side you fell in love with. ever again. maybe glimpses. but you won't ever be let in like how she let you in in the beginning.
like. ok? the fuck am i supposed to do with that. what fucjing conclusion should i come to.
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
-
part five
2K notes · View notes
hannie-dul-set · 6 months
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WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK?
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p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — ceo! sunghoon and secretary! reader, humor, romance. w — swearing, sunghoon being a weirdo, a misplaced marriage proposal. 1.3k words.
requested by — anon: menace to everyone but you x the opposite of that.
note — i hate the cold angsty male ceo trope. so instead i turned ceo hoon into a weirdo that's a little bit too in love and doesn’t understand the concept of workplace boundaries which stresses you the fuck out!!
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when you got promoted from being assistant secretary thanks to your ceo’s former secretary resigning, your co-workers did not throw you a celebration.
“you called for me, mr. park?”
instead, they threw you an advanced farewell party. it was nice working with you, said the cake dusted with stray confetti on the day of your promotion. they’re celebrating your inevitable resignation. they’re sure you’re going to follow suit after you predecessor within three months max because according to them—
“yes.”
your boss, park sunghoon, is the nastiest fucker in the planet.
“take a seat.”
you gulp, making cautious steps into your ceo’s office. he’s signing a stack of documents while you take your sweet time delaying having to sit in front of his paper-stacked desk, setting them aside the moment you sit down, sharp eyes immediately zeroing into your soul, and you start sweating.
there’s a bet on the line on when you’d eventually quit. today marks your fourth month here, and you’re pretty sure heeseung is going to win because you are in fact this close to sliding your pre-written resignation letter over his desk, adding onto his pile.
not because he’s terrible, like they all say. not because he’s temperamental.
“sunoo told me you were sick,” sunghoon starts. “why did you come to work today?”
but because you fear your boss might be a little bit in love with you.
“is...is that the only reason you asked for me?” you hesitantly say, picking on your cuticles and trying to avoid eye contact because the concern drowning your boss’s expression is just enough to drown you as well.
“you don’t look well,” he avoids your question. of course you don’t look well. you’re very, very uncomfortable right now and the main cause of that discomfort is him. “you should go home. i’ll tell jay to drive you.”
you’re pretty sure jay isn’t going to be happy with that. 
“mr. park—”
“i thought i asked you to call me sunghoon.”
your mouth is left hanging open. you’re flabbergasted. you take a second to recollect your thoughts. “...mr. park. sir,” you emphasize. you should at least be the one reminding him of your hierarchical roles at the moment. sunghoon looks upset that you’re not abiding by his request, but says nothing in protest so you continue. “i ran out of sick leaves. and there’s still so much work to do, i can’t just go home.”
“you ran out? well i’ll just give you more.” sir, that’s not how it works. “and jungwon can take care of your work. you should go home and rest.”
jungwon wouldn’t be too happy with that either. you feel your stress levels rising, headache incoming, because he’s just not listening to you. this crazy bastard, you think to yourself.
but maybe you were thinking a little too loudly.
“can you say that again?”
you slap a hand over your mouth with a gasp.
“say it again.”
you’re fucked. you just called your boss a bastard right to his face. “i’m—i’m so sorry, mr. park, i didn’t mean to—” but maybe that’s a good thing because that means you wouldn’t need to debate about resigning if he’s gonna fire you. “i apologize. i’ll accept any punishment you’ll give me.”
“no, say it again,” he hums, sounding a little too happy after being called crazy and a bastard, and you get a bad feeling. a really bad feeling. “i felt like we just got closer because of that. swear at me again.”
there’s a smile playing on your boss’s face. 
“i— i don’t think that’s appropriate, sir.”
jesus christ, he’s a bit more in love with you than you thought.
“why not?” when sunghoon gets up from behind his seat, circling out from behind his desk to lean back against it right in front of you instead, you start fearing for your life. he looks at you, arms crossed in disappointment, and he looks a little too good with rolled up sleeves and slim-fit slacks. 
crap, were you just checking out your boss?
his crazy is rubbing off on you.
“you have no trouble with swearing at and laughing around with the others,” he says. “why can’t you do the same with me?”
he is not normal, you think. thankfully not out loud this time. “sir, you’re my boss. i’m just your secretary. there’s a big gap there. i can’t just treat you the same way as i do with my co-workers.”
your boss takes in your words. he remains quiet with a stoic face for a few moments, and with each passing second of silence, you feel half a year of your life being shaved off. “ah,” he finally makes a sound after a good minute and a half. “should i give you a promotion, then?”
oh my fucking god, he’s nuts.
“boss, there’s an urgent thing you need to—”
“did i permit you to enter my office?”
your eyes widen, slapped in the face by a whiplash when your fellow secretary jake suddenly pops into the office, only to be cut off by the sharp glare and icy tone of your boss. jake’s hand doesn’t leave the doorknob when he nearly stumbles in shock with a stack of papers pressed to his chest. you see the look on his face. it’s the face of someone who’s about to get royally fucked over.
“n—no, sir. but these documents are—”
“then why are you in my office?” holy shit. so this is what they meant when they said ceo park is a bitchy demon from hell. jake looks like he’s about to piss himself. you’ve never been on the brunt of his temper— likely because he’s biased and has feelings for you, which has always felt burdensome. but now you’re a little thankful because you’d probably cry if he snapped at you like that.
“i’m sorry, i’ll leave now. i apologize.”
with that, jake makes his hasty retreat, and you’re once more left alone with your crazy boss. 
“where were we?” he says. “oh, right. your promotion.”
you’re starting to feel dizzy. 
“i’ve never liked how seojoo handled things. you can take his spot as the sales department head.” you have to stop him. you have to stop him before he actually fires a competent employee and gives you their spot as a courtship gift. “wait. i think you’d prefer working in HR actually. it’s a shame ms. kim is going to lose her position, but i can just—”
“mr. park—”
“sunghoon,” he cuts you off. “call me sunghoon.”
you look at him, exasperated. “sir,” you say. “i don’t think this is right.”
sunghoon raises a brow. “you don’t like HR? which department would you prefer then?”
you can’t. you can’t do this anymore. you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander out of stress, because they inadvertently land on the shiny gold glint of his nameplate, which is a terribly bad move following after his question because sunghoon notices, and sunghoon gets the very, very wrong idea.
oh, no. oh, no no no no no—
“i see.”
he doesn’t! he doesn’t see! you aren’t coveting his seat! you just want to go back to work and stop dealing with your insane and far too in love with you boss!
“i’m afraid i can’t give away my position as ceo,” he tells you. you swallow, shutting your eyes because you don’t want to acknowledge the mess you’ve just accidentally made, but your lack of vision definitely doesn’t interfere with your sense of hearing.
what you hear next sounds clearer than you’d like it to be.
“how about the position of being the ceo’s fiancé instead?”
that’s it.
“i will be getting back to work now, mr. park.”
there is something very wrong with your boss. it’s not in your job description to fix him.
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WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK? © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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1K notes · View notes
luvyeni · 9 days
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❛GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN❜ ( l. heeseung & yang jeongin )
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p. lee heeseung x yang jeongin x fem!reader w. 1.1k+
— 𖦹 warnings. threesome, oral sex, heavy degradation, unprotected sex
— 𖦹 ( you didnt know sleeping with best friends would land you here but you're just having fun ) !
authors note. im heeseung and jeongin biased but never made a fic with them together im ashamed
MINORS DON'T INTERACT
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was it wrong? probably; but you were just a girl who wanted to have fun— fun being was sleeping with lee heeseung only to find yourself in yang jeongins bed; yang jeongin who happens to be lee heeseungs best friend.
you weren't in any established relationship with neither of them, of course not you would never do that; but you did often find yourself fucking heeseung one weekend, calling jeongin over the next time you were horny.
“you're crazy.” “you're gonna get caught.” “how long do you think that will last?” your friends would tell you and you genuinely thought you could go on a long time without either of them finding out— that's until you found yourself in heeseungs bedroom at his party being cornered by the boys. “you must be really stupid.”
heeseung grabbed your arms holding them down. “fuck my friend and think i wouldn't find out.” jeongin sitting on the bed , head tilted with a smirk. “of course a slut like her one cock not enough she needs two.” heeseung pushing you down to your knees. “yeni-ah, should we give the whore what she wants?” heeseung turned to his friend who was already unbuckling his pants, his fox like eyes burning holes in your skin. “let's see if we can break her.”
grabbing the back of your head, jeongin grabbed the base of his cock, slapping the tip of his cock on your lips. “come on slut open your mouth.” you laid your tongue flat, he guided your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “fuck, this slut really knows how to suck dick.” he groaned— heeseung ridding himself of his pants, his cock bobbing against his stomach as he approached you. “don't forget me.”
you pulled off of jeongins cock, kissing his tip. “shit, so fucking nasty.” heeseung wasted no time, forcing his cock all the way in his mouth. “fu-fuck, this slut really knows how to use her mouth.” jeongin stroked his cock, slapping it on your cheek. “come on stroke my whore.” grabbing your hand. “yeah fuck, just like that.”
taking turns back and forth using your mouth, your eyes were teary, gagging on their cocks. “fuck I'm gonna cum all over your face.” heeseung pulled out of your mouth, jeongin slapping your face. “open up slut.” you opened your mouth waiting; both of them cumming at the same time, covering your face and boobs in their white substance. “look at her.” heeseung groaned. “so ready to swallow our cum.”
“I'm ready to fuck her.” jeongin pulled you roughly from the floor, pushing you down to the bed. “was confused as to why you haven't called me in a while.” he yanked your panties down your leg. “turns out you were whoring yourself out to my best friend.” slapping his cock against you leaking cunt. “look her desperate for a cock inside her.” he held your waste down, pushing his cock inside with one thrust. “ti-tight fucking pussy -shit-.”
his thrust were unforgiving, your hips would definitely be bruised tomorrow; but you didn't care, the way jeongin was fucking you and heeseung looking like he wanted to eat you. “lift her up.” he said. “let's see if she can take both of us.” you felt your body being lifted by jeongin, heeseung slotting himself under you. “gonna stretch this pussy.” he grabbed the base of his cock, lining himself up with your already filled cunt, you let out a scream upon feeling his cock bully it's way. “sh-shit.”
jeongin groaned, throwing his head back. “oh fuck bro hurry up before i cum.” heeseung bottomed out , pulling the front of your dress down, grabbing your tits. “so fucking tight.” both of them started to move; and they weren't slow either, both of them matching each others pace so you were never empty. “this is what you wanted?” jeongin said. “for both of us to fuck you dumb?” you dumbly nodded, heeseung yank hair back, you moaned. “i didn't hear a fucking answer, use your words slut.”
“fuck yes!” you shrieked, your thighs were burning. “dumb slut, should've just asked instead of being sneaky.” heeseung grunted, his legs fucking up into you. “only thinking with this messy pussy.”
your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt them using your body, heeseung was longer than jeongin, but jeongin was thicker; didn't matter though because it worked , both of them attacking your cervix, pinching your nipples. “gonna make a mess of this pussy.” jeongin said. “pl- please.” they both mockingly laughed at you. “look at the slut begging.” heeseung cursed. “doesn't even know what she's begging for.”
you couldn't hold it anymore, your legs tencing up, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. “fuck she's gonna cum.” heeseung reached around, stroking your clit.” jeongin pinching your nipples. “come on cum for us slut.” you let out a pornographic moan, your juices exiting your body. “fuck she's squirting.”
it felt like everything around you went blurry as they used your body for their pleasure for a few minutes, before jeongin pulled out stroking his cock until he came all over your stomach. “fuck!” heeseung following after, lifting you off his cock coating the outside of your puffy cunt, with a groan. “shit.”
they didn't stop there though, standing over your body stroking their cocks until they came another time— heeseung getting in-between your legs eating you out until you had to yank at his hair, begging him to give you a rest. jeongin putting his fingers to good use, stuffing them inside you until squirting all over the bed.
“fuck we really did a number on her huh?” jeongin smirked, putting his clothes back on, heeseung helped you get dressed into his clothes. “stay here, no way you can party now.” they both left you in the room, closing the door making sure no one went into heeseungs room.
once the party was over they'd come back and do it all over again.
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©️LUVYENI
436 notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 4 months
Note
i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔
no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)
okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE
she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU
she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself
like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you
she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol
but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!
and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP
and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”
excuse me????
“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”
“DIE”
she just laughs and takes your shoes off
she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you
clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat
“did you eat today?”
“babe you SAW me at lunch”
“just making sure….”
you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!
she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side
bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔
when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF
bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”
and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????
she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!
anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear
and an emotionally stunted caveman
she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you
idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)
so she quickly adapts to do all these little things
if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand
QUEEN of opening jars for you
if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you
also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.
like that one meme
“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”
“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”
also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup
finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER
like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head
you make it seem so effortless
she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy
so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..
also she’s constantly bragging about you
“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”
ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane
“yeah y/n is so pretty”
“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”
even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.
will she stop? no ofc not
she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words
loves kissing you all over
KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭
anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me
she’s just always touching you
hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere
hand around your waist
SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES
no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating
if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together
whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want
so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing
will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED
she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly
she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.
on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you
partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep
if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit
she’s a super light sleeper i feel like
always on the guard fr ✊
a little bit better when you’re there tho
so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep
like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?
hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop
you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
622 notes · View notes
toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ crazy stupid love
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pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader
description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...
tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love
w/c. 3.6k
a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3
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"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.
"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.
"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.
sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"
the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."
"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.
"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.
"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."
"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.
you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."
"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.
"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.
"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."
heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.
after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.
"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."
neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—
that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.
he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."
your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.
it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.
the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.
yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.
you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.
your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.
you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.
and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."
you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.
his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.
today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"
you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.
a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.
"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.
pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.
soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.
you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.
"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.
"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"
you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.
his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.
you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.
"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."
you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.
and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.
"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.
in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.
he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.
"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."
it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.
now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.
"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.
because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.
soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.
"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"
that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.
when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"
"i—yes, i'm okay."
"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"
"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."
"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.
"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."
soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"
you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"
soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"
"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"
dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."
"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"
"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."
your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"
soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—
"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."
"what? what do you mean the same way—"
"are you stupid, soonyoung?"
"um, kind of."
you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.
"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"
"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"
soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.
"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."
soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.
"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.
and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.
it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.
"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.
"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.
cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.
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a/n. hope u enjoyed it!
tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)
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webslingingslasher · 5 months
Note
hii!! can you do one where situationship!peter like yells at trouble or something along those lines or is like embarrassed to be seen w her (i jsut wanna read something angsty 😭😭)
no rush ofc!! hope u had a good new years 🎀
added these two asks together <3
what do u think that frat!peter would do if he made trouble cry, like it was his fault
-----
when peter got a congratulatory clap on his shoulder with a 'heard you got cuffed up. good for you, man.' he brushed it off. peter had a good guess on why someone made that connection, he's been a little handsy with you at parties, and on campus. it's a natural thought.
when peter got nudged by a member of another frat, and a 'congrats, bro. she's a hottie.' he felt confused.
the third time it happened, while at his own house, peter finally asked what was up. 'where did you hear that?' a punch to his arm, 'your chick. she's telling everyone you're her boyfriend.'
and that? it made his blood boil.
'she's lying, i'm not dating anyone.' the brother's eyebrows raised, 'oh. i mean, i guess she told ja-' peter spoke up louder, 'she's a fucking liar.' the brother leaves it alone.
peter was almost pacing his floor while waiting for you. you've brought it up a thousand times, he's made his opinion very clear, and yet you're going behind his back and telling everyone he's the one thing he's not.
you don't notice his distaste, reaching out for a kiss you're dodged. peter wants to scoff at your pout, no wonder you feel sad, your boyfriend refused your touch.
'anything you wanna tell me, trouble?'
you're immediately taken back by his tone. 'anything that might get back to me?' you have a sinking feeling you know what it's about, you didn't know it would be whispered about, but you should've.
but, you won't put your foot in your mouth yet. 'i don't think so.' peter lets out a dry laugh, 'no? there's nothing that you did that makes you look fucking crazy?'
you swallow hard, is that what he thought of you? if so, he's wrong. 'i'm not crazy.' peter throws his hands up, 'really? okay, let's see if we can figure this one out together. i'm not your boyfriend, but apparently you're telling people i am. is that supposed to make you look sane?'
it's downright mean. 'you're being very condescending right now, peter. i don't like it.' peter's loud with his next sentence. 'just how i don't like being called your fucking boyfriend?'
your world comes crashing down. how could he be so brutal with such ease. it's so harsh you can't swallow back your emotions.
tears blot at your eyes while your lower lip trembles. 'is the idea of being with me that bad?' peter feels as crushed as you look. once it starts you can't stop, and to break down in front of peter, after he just called you fucking crazy, makes you dehumanize yourself.
you huff small breaths and try to wipe away the tears as they fall. you struggle to say your words without pausing to gasp. 'you didn't even... ask why.' it brings a new wave, he's being silent and you think it's over and final and you didn't get a chance to plead your case.
'i need... to leave.' you can't breathe, you can't even feel your feet when you move. you don't make it far because peter's in front of you and using his chest to back you up.
'alright, alright. just stop crying, okay?' peter doesn't know what to do because he's never actually made a girl cry that hard, or at least in his face, making him aware of his actions and how he could've tried to approach this in a calm way.
'you hate me,' you gasp, 'and you think i'm crazy,' another gasp, but this time you're scooped into his hold. 'stop. please, stop. please stop crying.' peter thinks if he squeezes you hard enough he could piece the parts he ruined back together.
'i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.' peter doesn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't a pleading apology coughed out between sobs. fuck, he was mean, wasn't he? 'stop it, trouble. just breathe, alright? it's done, okay?'
oh, peter's shit at this. you cry even harder, 'i know we are. i'm so sorry, i'll tell everyone i made it up and... and you-'
'we're not done. the conversation is done. just please stop fucking crying.' peter can't stress it enough because he feels so guilty he's about to start crying in solidarity.
'no! not until, not until you hear-'
'i'm not going to listen to anything until you can say three words without holding your breath.' it's useless, 'i think i'm dying.' you don't know how, but you're held even tighter to his chest, 'you're not dying. you're upset because i said mean things.'
you're able to take a deep breath, it feels good. 'you did.' peter can finally relax, you're not on the verge of passing out anymore. 'i know. i was really mean, wasn't i?'
'yeah.' fuck, he really, really hates how miserable he made you. peter cares about you, it's the one thing he makes sure to tell you, but he doesn't think you talk to the people you care about that way.
'i promise i'm not crazy, i just-'
'you're not crazy and i should've never said that.' you try to keep your face tilted down when peter pulled back, but he was adamant on having you look at him.
'i'm so sorry, okay? i was caught off guard by all these comments today and i took it out on you. you're right, i should've asked why. but i didn't, and i'm sorry.'
'jackson ruth got all weird and touchy at his party last week and i just blurted out that you were my boyfriend so he'd leave me alone and i swear i didn't mean for him to have it spread.'
you hate that you made him ashamed, maybe you said that part out loud too because you think you saw something break inside his eyes.
peter softly cups your face, any stray droplets cleared with a brush of his thumbs under your eyes. 'i'm not ashamed of you, i'd never be ashamed of you. you're my baby.'
hook, line, and sinker.
'you are always allowed to use my name if you need to, i promise. i was a dick and i made you cry and now i feel like shit that i made you feel like shit, and now i feel even shitter because i'm somehow making this about me.'
you wrap your hands around his, you'd rather him keep his hold. you feel special. 'do you mean it?' peter nods softly, he leans down for a kiss. it's warming, your chest blossoms wide.
if you were fucking crazy, hypothetically, you'd claim the accusation boldly when he says 'on everything i love.'
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ktittycat · 2 months
Note
Can you do a part two of the regulus one where the massage turns scandalous??
<33 I love your writing
thank you i’m still fairly new to writing so i try my best <3
pt 1 pt 3
fingering, eating out, innocence kink
“You’re so kind, Reggie,” You say with a soft smile on my face. You and Regulus are in your dorm, sitting on the same bed. You’re in the same Hello-Kitty pajamas that Regulus knows so well. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Oh, of course. That’s just what friends do,” Regulus hums as he massages your thighs, liking the small whimpers coming out of your mouth. He’s hiding a smirk on his face.
“Hm…” You moan quietly. “Feels nice. I didn’t know you were so good with your hands.”
Regulus chuckles. You were just so innocent— you hadn’t even noticed how wrong that sounded. He kneads your thighs softly with his knuckles, his fingers advancing closer to your clothed cunt. But you’re too into the massage to even notice.
Your little gasps every time Regulus rubbed down on the right knot went straight to his cock, and he tried his best to hide it. He chuckled. You didn’t know why, but your stomach twisted and you seemed to feel wetter down there when Regulus would massage closer.
“Everything alright?” He asks thoughtfully. He knows full well what’s happening and your innocence makes him even harder. You nod hesitantly.
“Yeah… just feels weird,” You mumble shyly. The slytherin tilts his head. “Down there.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. He sits up. “Where exactly, darling?”
“Right here, Reggie.” You whimper and move your hand to your pelvis. He smiles and crawls over to you, still rubbing the inside of your thighs. You moan quietly at the feeling.
“You trust me, don’t you?” Regulus asks, his breath warm on your ear. You nod shyly. He grins as he slowly pulls off your shorts. He had longed to see those perfect thighs of yours again. “Merlin, you’re so beautiful.”
“Wh- What are you doing?” You bite your lip, whimpering quietly. He shushes you, throwing your shorts to the other side of your bed. He sees a wet patch on your cute, bow panties.
“You’re gonna feel real good, darling,” he says with a low voice as he begins to rub your clit through your underwear. You gasp, eyes widening at the feeling. “Mm, such a good girl.”
“Reggie!” You whimper. “Is this… Is this appropriate?”
“Baby… of course it is,” He smiles and nods. “I’m just a friend helping another friend, right?”
He moves your panties to the side, his fingers grazing your pussy. He gives your cunt a kiss, and you moan in surprise, but you don’t stop him. In fact, your legs seem to spread wider, practically inviting him in. He takes it as a sign of consent and sucks your clit. Your breath hitches and your first instinct is to grip his curly locks. He doesn’t stop, continuing to suck harshly as he forced your legs apart.
“Tastes so fucking good,” Regulus mumbles as he eats you out. His cock is threatening to pop out of his pants at this point. He relieves his pain by humping your bed. Just the thought of eating you out can get him horny.
“Regulus!” You squeal, legs kicking around. Your back arches off the bed. He abuses your pussy with his tongue. You cry out, “Don’t stop!”
He laughs meanly and licks you like he has been starved for days. He sticks a finger in you slowly, and that gets you going. Your eyes widen and you grab his wrist.
“W-Wait!” He ignores you, slurping your juices up eagerly. You let out a garbled cry.
“I could eat this pretty pussy forever,” He murmurs. He dips his tongue inside you, causing you to roll your eyes back.
“Feels like ‘m gonna pee, Reggie!” You whine, squirming around like crazy. Your face is flushed. He smirks and penetrates you with two fingers.
“Cum for me, darling,” He groans. Your thighs quiver as you climax all over his face. He grunts, cumming in his pants with you. He pulls his mouth off your clit and smiles lazily.
“Feel better?” He asks. Your pussy glistens with his saliva. You nod as you close your legs again. He kisses your neck, and then kisses you on the lips. You whimper quietly as you kiss him back.
“I feel so much better, Reggie…” You mumble. Regulus helps you clean up, and you fall asleep just a few minutes after. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving your dorm.
masterlist
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miupow · 3 months
Text
⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]
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☆〜(ゝ。∂)txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships
⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .
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연준 YEONJUN
i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol
soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now
likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?
tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time
pls take care of him :(
finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33
cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("
수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃
the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours
"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."
probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<
soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit
high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny
"why are you laughing at me??? :(("
gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day
“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”
will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”
“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”
범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃
true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay
he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?
put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights
just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit
you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober
he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him
says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb
he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<
let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes
again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny
“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much
태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃
this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them
i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night
big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you
i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything
normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"
very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you
thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots
he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up
휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃
i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.
he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,
he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe
kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles
spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;
like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<
will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy
SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly
goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours
TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;
thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it
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gildedkrone · 5 months
Text
Do you regret the things we shared that I’ll never forget
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“This is inappropriate.”
Captain Price. SAS veteran and commander, with his hands in your trousers as the belt buckle rattles when a strong hand cusps you through your boxers. Price’s eyes are lasered in on your lips as a tongue coats them in glisten.
“So is this. Stop, if you find it so.”
“Cadet, this is—”
“Tell me to stop, and I will. But it seems as if you’re the one who can’t, captain.”
Price tries to pull his hand away but your hand arrests his and keeps it there and you feel it—the gentle curling of his thick fingers pushes fingertips into intimacy and how inappropriate, in the quiet cool of his office where your hips settle into the edge of the desk with the man between your legs.
Captain John Price. Cadet trainer and with his authority, you would go far.
“Stop this at once. We should not be doing this.”
“If so, why are you eye fucking me the whole day, Price?”
Price’s brows furrow and shame is apparent on his face for having been so … brazen with his looks. He jerks when your palm moulds his cheeks and a strong iron grasp stops your wrists in an unspoken do not.
Minute tremors from his shaking hands are passing into yours and he inhales sharply when you hand presses his palm further into your briefs as you part your lips in show when a thumb gently rubs against your balls.
“It feels good, captain.” He looks so unsure of himself, for once. “Bet I could make you feel good too.”
“This—this is wrong. What do you want, cadet?” He speaks with herculean effort to keep his voice steady and unwavering against the warring emotions in his chest.
“Let’s care about your first. I know you like men, Price.”
You feel his fingers moving on their accord, squeezing and gently messaging you are most private and your fingers weave between his to give him permission to be bolder with his advances. The want for him to take what is before him; gods above, you have him exactly where you want him.
And he knows, too.
“I know you dream of being in a relationship with a man. But not just any man.” He mourns the loss of the heat of your palm when you unbuckle your shirt and it flops onto his desk in a heap.
“You want an omega, don’t you? Unmarked, untamed.” His eyes linger on your shoulder where clean, pristine flesh is presented to him. A free omega.
“If you don’t stop, I will have to report this to your unit commander.”
He pulls his hand away from your crotch and you watch him retreat to the other side of desk and sit.
“I dare you.”
“I dare you, Price. Do you know how many omegas there are in the SAS?”
His flimsy attempts at pretending to be busy with work stop when he feels your hand settle on his.
“Five percent.” You sit on the edge of his desk. “In this base? Just twenty. And most of the female omegas don’t even catch your fancy, do they?”
He lips curl when you lean forward and intermingles your scent with his.
“There’s only five of us right here, right now. Four of them in medical and—” He protests when you push his chair to the side, “only one in combat service.”
“Bet you like that, don’t you? The smell of gunpowder and sweat, it drives you crazy, doesn’t it? I know you want me, Price.”
“And lucky for you, I want you very much, too.”
The hiss of the chair when you settle into his lap with your half unbuttoned pants and shirtless torso is just too much for the alpha and Price pulls you in until his clothed chest is pressed against yours. Hands come to rest against your hip and arse and they keep you there against the very handsome captain in the chair.
He gasps—the sound echoes in his office—when a roll of your hips puts pressure against his groin and his hand grabs a handful of your trousers, further dislodging the garment as it slides lower down your thighs.
“W-what do you want?”
“I want to be assigned to an intelligence role.” Surprise, the captain is surprised. “The other cadets I work with are all fools, stupid and lacking in brains.”
You hold his wrist up to your chest and pleasure explodes from the nub between his fingers. Below, his trousers are tented obscenely as the near pornographic moan from your pliant throat fuels the lust clouding his judgement.
“I-I—fuck—I can’t guarantee that, cadet.” Of course it wouldn’t be enough.
His collar unfurls to reveal a strong and toned chest and you examine the dog tags around his neck.
“I know. But a recommendation letter with your signature will open doors for me. And in return, you will have me.”
Your lips brushes against his clenched jaw and a stutter escapes his lips.
“I’ll be your needy and wet omega, all ready to satiate your needs, captain.”
“Y-you wanted this …”
The chair squeaks further when you push your hips flush against his, eliciting a strong grasp of the armrest as the captain desperately fights against his biology. The light behind you only serves to agitate him; his teeth is a perfect fit for your shoulder.
“It must be difficult, being so accomplished yet going home to an empty bed with no companionship. But, you have me now. Say it, John.”
“You are … ngh … in your twenties? Shit, you fuckin’ heathen!”
His shirt comes to rest at his pelvis and you just couldn’t resist—your teeth leaves shallow prints on his nips and you run a tongue over in apology.
“Well, I like my men older. Can you feel how much I need you, John?”
He almost loses it right there and then when you push his fingers past the waistband into sinful territory and warm slick coats all of his fingers and your tip leaks pearly onto his forearm. The smell is ambrosial and he cleans his fingers thoroughly with his tongue and it tastes—heavenly.
“I’ll be your secret, John. We won’t have to tell anyone about this.”
His men once joked about it, and now he’s finally experiencing it for himself.
“Help me, Price. Help me and I’ll be yours. All yours and only yours. I don’t want Janus. I want you, captain.”
The mention of Janus, another hot headed alpha cadet roils Price up—the mental image of another useless thick dicked idiot eliciting drunken moans and drools from your lips sparks the territorial side of him to claim, mark and take the willing omega before someone else comes along.
How long has he been without a partner? In his late thirties, time runs thin for this alpha. Right in front him and settled over his thighs, virility and lust paw at his chest for his attention. You both know—you’re his best chance at the euphoria just a mile off.
All he just had to do is say yes. Inappropriate as hell, but age gap be damned, he wants this all for himself. His acquiescence, a white flag of defeat against his basal instincts and deep seated desires, comes roaring into the present when heat grasps him through parted trousers and he shouts with you as the very last of his defences comes crashing down when a warm, velvety tight heat engulfs his satin and milks him for all of his alpha seed into finally, satiation as his teeth breaks the skin on your shoulder.
You grasp onto his back as Price settles into a brutal pace of a man having his first frolic in the great pools of nirvana. The air smells of sex and the pleasure drunk look on your face—he wants to frame it on his wall to remind himself of what youth tastes on teeth.
A consummation of lust in his office. The captain’s pet indeed, has the captain wrapped around his finger. So special, so … you leaving his office an hour later with a sated captain and a letter signed in his name:
I, CPT Jonathan Price, hereby give me recommendation …
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Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist
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soulaires · 6 months
Note
cardan greenbriar headcanons
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I would still adore you with your hands around my neck.
ꨄ︎ He is brutally and unapologetically mean when you first met, he doesn’t really ‘bully’ but makes it clear he HATES you (snickering/laughing w his friends whenever you are in sight or gives backhanded and sarcastic comments )
ꨄ︎ you don’t really entertain him most of the time which drove him MAD he doesn’t really understand why he’s craving for your attention so bad
ꨄ︎ he couldn’t really understand that he liked you o he’s just mean, he doesn’t know how to get your attention without the full on teasing
ꨄ︎ whenever you respond to his teasing, your words cut him like a knife (you hurt his ego, he hurt your pride 🤷‍♀️)
ꨄ︎ the moment he realized he likes you, he just deny, deny, deny, deny.
ꨄ︎ he absolutely hates the way how much he wants you, hates the way he craves for you, your presence, your touch dearly and hates the way he badly want to shut you up by a kiss
ꨄ︎ when he saw you kissed locke, he get irritated and finally starting to accept it
you are currently in a garden, reading a book when suddenly the bane of your existence voice greeted you,
“why did you fucking kissed locke??” Cardan marched towards you as he settled in front of you, you stood up, preparing to leave but he caught your arms.
“I ask you a question, princess. Answer it.” He remarked, the gap between you two is a bit close than ever.
“None of your business, royal highness.” You mocked.
“Why? Why does it have to be him? You have a terrible taste.”
“He’s a good kisser, I would not lie.” you try to get under his skin
“No, he Isn’t.” He argued
“Why do you always have to disagree to everything I say???”
“Because, my dear, If I agree with you, then both of us would be wrong.”
“You drive me crazy, Greenbriar.”
“How crazy?” He mused. “Show me how mad I drive you.”
you rolled your eyes as you start to wak out but cardan was quick to corner you in a tree, your heart is racing, tension is thick and yu could not breath.
he seems to caught onto that as he smirks, “my, my, my, darling, why is your heart racing so fast when I haven’t even touch you, hm?”
you can feel your cheeks heet up as yu raises your eyebrow, “and how would you even know that?”
he grabs your hand and put it on his chest, “because mine is.”
You let your arms away from his beating heart as if it burns you, “you should go.” you breathed out. “Yeah, you should definitely go, cardan.” You distanced yourself but not far enough from him.
“Go where, sweatheart?” his face is much more closer to yours, “here?” You can feel his breath on your shoulder. “Or maybe here?” It moved up to your neck.
“ca—cardan.” You stuttered. You fucking stuttered. You heard him chuckled and moved up to your ear
“Kiss me.” you heard his hoarse voice whispers to your ear.
“What?” Your eyes went wide as you backed away.
“I said, kiss me. Kiss me until I am sick of it. Kiss me until his taste is out of your lips, kiss me until all you can taste is me. Kiss me.” he begs. All cardan could only think was that he needed you. Needed to taste you, to have his arms around you, to hold you. He could not think straight. “please.”
“Shut up.” You said as you kissed him. Kissed him. You have no excuse for it, not a accidental, forced to, nada. You kissed him.
Cardan quickly melts into the kiss as he tugs you closer. His tongue swept along with your lips and you granted him the permission he craved. It drove him crazy. He dreamed of this very moment, of you, every damned night. Thought about it every hour, about how you would taste, it was a question and answer , a beginning to an end. Cardan Greenbriar could stay like this forever, with you in his arms, with your fingers on his hair. With your lips on his. He devoured you, tasting every bit of you and you heard his desperate whine.
You pulled away but he chased your lips. You guys stared at each other. “I–“ “this never happened.” You are quick to shut him off as you scurried away.
ꨄ︎ he drown himself with alcohol that night.
ꨄ︎ he tried to talk to you but was unsuccessful
ꨄ︎ one day, he had enough and planned to corner you
ꨄ︎ he finally caught on to you
“Lets talk. Stop running away from me.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He argued “stop being stubborn.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. A mistake that shall never repeat again.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice shakes
“Let’s forget it happened—“
“Again, it hurt me, princess. It hurt me.” Again.
“It’s probably for the best!” You burst out
“No, it is not! Will you please stop driving me crazy?”
“I wanted this—you for so long and im not losing the chance. You have no idea how i wanted this. The way you look at me... I want you to know what it does to me. I want you to feel it. Feel how crazy you make me.”
You went silent as you stepped closer to him, “show me, cardan.” You whispered and he did.
ꨄ︎ now that you guys are dating he became more protective of you, always looking out for you.
ꨄ︎ he would start the next Trojan War for you if you are not in his line of sight
ꨄ︎ oh boy he is CLINGYYYY
ꨄ︎ he calls you lots of pet names like “my queen, love, my love, my darling, sweetheart, angel etc.
ꨄ︎ writes you letters and poem!
ꨄ︎ he’s a sassy man.
ꨄ︎ He loves saying I love yous
ꨄ︎ gorgeous flowers every time!!!
ꨄ︎ his tail unashamedly wrapped around you every time
ꨄ︎ especially when he’s jealous possessive
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crilbyte · 3 days
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x reader one-shot inspired by the song 'Don't you dare make me fall in love with you' by Kaden MacKay?
Ooooh my gosh, I love this! This is so cute. I love the idea of an angrily lovesick alastor.
I wasn't sure if you wanted a smutty oneshot or not, so I stopped right before it.
Update! Due to popular demand I've made a Part 2. It's 18+ so be aware!
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Everything had been going so well. He'd wormed his way into the hotel, Charlie trusted him, he'd even gotten her to make a deal with him. Everything had been going according to plan. Until YOU showed up.
At first it wasn't so bad. Sure, you were pretty and intelligent and the only one who could make a decent cup of coffee in the whole hotel. Sure you were funny and sweet and the only one he could stand to sit with in the study to read. You were quiet when it called for it and loud when it was okay. That was all.
But then Alastor started noticing when you weren't there instead of just when you were. He began to schedule when he would read by the fire in the study for when he'd know you were there. It was one of these times that made him realize something might be wrong with him.
Alastor went to the study, ready to read silently alongside you as you both usually did at this time only to find you missing. It was then that he heard Charlie and Angels voices from outside in the hall.
“...no, she's just taking it really hard,” Charlie says softly.
“It’s not her fault,” Angel insists. “Girl needs to chill.”
“You know how she is, her reason for being down here is pretty different from most people's.”
“Yeah, I get that an’ all… But it's still *not* her fault. That crazy motherfucker deserved what he got. Fuck him.”
“Still, she’s just like this. She feels responsible for his death, even if he arguably did deserve it.”
“So, now what? Do we just let it play out?” Angel asks, seemingly sincere.
“I… I don't know,” Charlie sighs, exasperated. “I tried to talk to her, but she won't let me into her room. She’s locked herself in. So, yeah I guess…”
*So… you are in her room were you?* Alastor thought, already beginning to fade into shadows. Then that’s where he would go…
He hadn't even fully corporealized before he could hear the quiet sobs. Alastor slowly approaches the lump in the bed, a curled-up you hiding under the covers like a scared child. He sits beside you, a gentle hand on what he assumes is your head.
“My dear, what troubles you so…?” His crackled voice asks.
With a jump, you throw the covers off of your head, not having realized he was there. The look of shock on your face would have been quite amusing if it wasn't layered over red puffy eyes and an even more pallid complexion than you usually had.
“Alastor!” you chirp, quickly looking away and wiping your eyes. “W-what are you doing here? I thought I locked the door.”
“Indeed you did, luckily I am not bound by such trivial things,” Alastor replies proudly.
You give him a slightly irritated look. He’d take it; it was better than crying.
“I overheard that you were inconsolable up here, wouldn't even let Charlie in. That’s typically my cue to step in. So do tell, what can I do for you? My purpose here is to help after all.”
You give him a skeptical look. This wasn't exactly out of character for Alastor, but you know better than to assume that he would ever do anything purely out of the kindness of his heart.
“I'm not making any deals with you, Alastor,” you say, turning away from him and pulling the covers up to your shoulders.
“Who said anything about a deal?” He replies, only inches from your face.
You scream, jumping up to a sitting position. “Hell’s sake, Alastor. I wish you wouldn't do that.”
Alastor didn't reply, instead choosing to tilt his head with a closed-mouth smile.
With a sigh, you seem to give up. You look down at the sheets, your finger tracing an embroidered pattern on the duvet. “It’s about why I'm down here” you finally admit. “It's… just hard. It's the anniversary of when it happened and it's just…”
“Let me see if I've got this straight,” Alastor asks, spinning his cane. “You feel guilty for the sin that brought you here?”
You nod silently.
“And what exactly was that?”
You look up at him, nervously. “Murder…”
Alastor's eyes glint. He would never have guessed. “And what caused you to do such a… heinous crime against God?”
“He was a friend of my brothers. He was trying to blackmail me into… into doing porn for him.”
“So you murdered a man who'd threatened you?”
You nod. “And other girls.”
“Bit of a pimp, then eh?” He grins, sounds like you did the world a favor.”
You’re taken aback by that, you hadn't even considered that. You look down at the bed, little sniffles being the only sound between the two of you. Alastor moves closer, taking your chin in his thumb and first finger, forcing you to look at him.
“Now… I believe I asked you a question,” he chirps out, voice low and ridden with static. “What do you need? Your any desire is mine to fulfill. No deals necessary.”
You just stare up at him, stunned. There had to be a catch, right? Alastor was not *kind*. He didn't do things for no reason. His goal was always to further his own plans. But no matter how much you try, you can't figure out what he could get out of this, besides your trust.
“Come, my dear. Surely there's something, anything I can do to help,” he tries one last time.
The words fall from your mouth before you can stop them. “Stay with me tonight…”
Alastor pulls back slightly, eyes widening, his grin still present, but nervous. “You want me to…stay?” He asks.
You just nod, moving towards him. “Please?”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“Wait, wait, wait,” Rosie throws her hands up, waving them. “She wanted you to stay the night?”
Alastor takes a sip of his coffee, nodding.
“So how'd she take the rejection?” She asks playfully, raising an eyebrow.
“Whatever do you mean?” Alastor questions, lightly placing his cup back on its saucer.
“Well you didn't sleep with her,” she says with a scoff.
Alastor doesn't respond, instead taking another sip from his cup.
Rosie's eyes grow. “Alastor. You didn't.” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth in shock.
“I did as she asked. I'm not one to go back on a promise.”
“And… so… what was it like?” She asks, genuinely interested now.
He ponders, eyes looking off into the middle distance with thought as his brows pull together. “Warm?”
Rosie chokes on her tea.
“I haven't slept that well in a long time, frankly. It's not something I've ever been interested in before.”
“I'm well aware,” she all but stutters out.
Alastor takes another long sip from his coffee before continuing. “Since then, she’s had me stay with her every night this week. Which is the subject of the advice I came to you for.”
Stunned silence. Rosie can't think of a single word. She had not expected this. Instead, she just nods, motioning for him to continue.
“At least she doesn't snore,” he jokes, his canned radio laughter echoing.
“She doesn't…” Rosie blinks a few times, realization setting in. “Wait, so you didn't…”
“Hmm?” Alastor raises an eyebrow, peering at Rosie over his monocle. “Didn't what, my dear?”
“*Sex* dear,” she says bluntly, smirking.
Alastor's eyes are suddenly as wide as Rosie had ever seen them. With his trademark grin still plastered on his face, it was a pretty comedic expression.
“Oh, no, no,” Alastor says through a laugh once his initial shock wears off. “Absolutely not, no. I have no interest in such things. No, no.”
Rosie's grin grows as she squints at her old friend, analyzing every word, every moment. Something was off, and then it struck her.
“Darlin’, you’re dizzy with her,” she says flatly, sipping her tea.
Her words actually silence him for a moment. She couldn't mean that. She was wrong.
“You must be mistaken,” he says, attempting to brush the comment off while readjusting the silverware on the table.
“Well, let's just think about it for a minute. You like her, right?”
“Indeed. She's intelligent, powerful, and quite the little spitfire when she wants to be,” he admits readily.
“And you like being around her? She doesn't make you uncomfortable?”
“Quite the opposite. She goes out of her way to ensure that I am quite comfortable.”
“Al, I think you love this girl,” she says with a squeak of barely contained excitement.
"No,” he says a little more forcefully than intended. “I do not love her. I *like* her, I will readily admit that. But I do not love her. I don't love anyone. I only find it enjoyable to be around her, and I attempt to do what I can for her to be happy and fulfill this silly desire of hers to accend.”
“And you are willing to brutally murder anyone who gets in the way of that..." She adds.
Alastor makes a point not to acknowledge her statement.
“Oh sweetie, honey, darling,” she coos teasingly, reaching a hand out on the table to him. “That’s how I felt about my dear Franklin. Well, before things grew cold between us and he had that *horrible accident~.*”
Alastor's smile is unwavering, but his eyes give away quite a bit. He was thinking, fighting these suggestions in his head, but he trusted Rosie. She'd never done him wrong before. In fact she had even gone out of her way for him on multiple occasions. If she was saying it, she meant it.
“If any other soul in this realm spoke those words to me…” he trails off, but Rosie understands.
“I might be off the mark,” she admits, throwing her hands up. “But promise me you’ll think about it. After everything that girl has gone through, she deserves at least that much.”
The walk home is far from peaceful. Alastor’s mind is plagued with thoughts of his conversation with Rosie. She was one of the only souls in hell he would ever admit to feeling anything even remotely close to “trust” in. He wants to scoff, wave away such frivolous accusations and move along; but when he tries, something deep in his brain tugs at him. Like a hook stuck in a fish that was too stubborn to be reeled in.
With a heavy sigh, Alastor walks into the hotel. There are more sinners there than usual. The sight lifted his spirits, Charlie would be happy. Though quickly his grin twists to one of chagrin. It happened again. What was this? Surely Rosie wasn't right. He knew himself. He was The Radio Demon, one of the most feared overlords in hell, serial killer, and cannibal. There was no way that he-
Alastor’s eyes lock onto you, standing at the bar, back against the wall, hands up in a defensive position while some… *kreatin* stood in front of you, fist against the wall beside your head, keeping you there. He was suddenly boiling with rage. His grin shifts to a sneer, antlers growing steadily as his legs take him closer to the offending and soon-to-be *deceased* sinner.
“No, I’m sorry, I really don't want any…” he hears your non-confrontational voice and his throat burns.
“Come on,” the man’s gravely voice insists. “What’s one drink? It's on me.”
“I believe the lady said N͇̱͐̿͛́o̷͖̤̺̥͈̲̓̓.̢͙̼͈̝ͫ͊̋ͅ.” Alastor’s voice contorts, his eyes turning to dials as he grows in size.
The man stutters, mumbling out apologies before turning and quickly attempting to escape. Alastor made to follow but feels tiny hands on him, turning harshly to see who dared to stop him, only to see your small form hugging his arm. It was as though you had poured cold water over him. He shrinks back down to size, his grin shifting from its twisted form to a much softer one as he takes in your trembling frame.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He reaches a hand up and pats your head gently and you grip him tighter.
“Thank you, Alastor…Thank you.”
Alastor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose.
*Fuck*…
The next week was difficult…
It was as if everything was conspiring together to find new and unique ways to piss Alastor off. Between having to restrain himself from tearing to shreds and devouring a new resident at the hotel after he disturbed you with extremely inappropriate remarks one fateful afternoon, and him finding himself genuinely happy at the sight of you when you were telling Charlie about it later… It felt as though his sanity was being used as a yo-yo. But this was not the end of it, or even the worst of it to come.
On one quiet afternoon, Alastor is sitting in the study, reading a book and sipping coffee, relaxing. Or at least, he *had* been relaxing. It was rather difficult to unwind when you are being watched.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alastor can see Charlie peeking in through the doorway. Each time he looks up to welcome her in, she disappears. She even begins just walking past the doorway over and over as though she is trying to work up the courage to go in, only to change her mind at the last second. After about ten minutes of this cat-and-mouse game, Alastor can't take it anymore.
“Are you going to enter, my dear, or are you planning on just staring the entire night?” He asks, not looking up from his book.
“O-oh. Sorry,” Charlie enters sheepishly, walking to sit in a nearby plush chair.
“So what brings you to me this afternoon?” Alastor asks, closing his book and placing it on the little table beside him.
“Um,” she looks down at her hands which are stuck between her thighs. She really did seem quite nervous. “I wanted to ask you for some advice?”
He perks at that. “Of course, my dear. Ask away, I’m always happy to help.”
“It's for a friend of mine.”
Okay, that doesn't narrow anything down, he thinks.
“A mutual friend of ours,” she continues.
And that narrows it down considerably. So she is talking about you, Alastor decides.
“Yes, and what problem does our friend have.
“Okay, so… There’s this guy…”
It was as though a hole opened in his chest. Three little words. Why had they affected him so strongly? He needed to quash this ridiculous and frivolous emotion.
“And you came to me?” He asks, examining his claws. “My dear, I'm hardly the sentimental type.”
“Well, he’s uh, a lot like you. Old fashioned, proper.” She looks so nervous to be asking him this, her face is red, which was quite noticeable with her pale complexion. “She… she *really* likes him, but she doesn't know how to tell him. So I hoped maybe you could help me give her some advice…?”
Alastor wants nothing more than to ask this man’s name and hunt him down.
The thought causes him to pause. What a strange intrusive thought. He attempts to shake it off, turning his attention back to Charlie.
“Well,” he begins. “That isn't much to go on.” Alastor crosses his legs, it feels as though he was trying to tie himself into a knot. What an annoying feeling.
“Ok, so… he’s smart and generous um…” Charlie bites her lip, “Funny?”
Alastor remains silent, this isn't very useful information.
“Is he a sinner, dear?” he inquires.
Charlie perks at that. “Oh, yes actually.”
He has to suppress a growl. *So it was some lowly human then,* He thinks as though he in't the same. He attempts some deduction. A sinner who identifies as male. Old-fashioned. Proper… That likely ruled out the recently deceased. Apparently “smart” and “funny”. Though Alastor mused he couldn’t be *that” smart to have ended up on his shit-list. He was beginning to compile a list of suspects. Just as he was about to ask another probing question, there came a voice from the door.
“Hey, Charlie, there’s some new girl here who swears that you told her she could have a room with a jacuzzi?” Angel says incredulously. “Bitch, if we have rooms with jacuzzis why the *fuck* am I staying in a traditional fucking suite?”
“Oh, uh, I think she may have misunderstood,” Charlie begins before turning to Alastor. “Sorry, I think I’ll have to deal with this personally… Thanks for listening, but, honestly… you can forget it. It’s not that important anyway.”
With that, she stands and leaves, though through the doorway Alastor can swear he saw Angel playfully elbow her ribs, though he couldn't begin to guess what that was about.
A sinner who was smart, generous, and funny. This was sounding less and less like someone who would have ended up in hell. He would do more reconnaissance later. For now, he wanted to prepare for his radio show tomorrow, hoping it could take his mind off this itching feeling in the back of his head.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It's quiet in Alastor’s room. The only sounds coming from the ticking of his grandfather clock and the quiet sounds of jazz from his gramophone. It had been a rough day, well… a rough fewI days. But this afternoon seemed to be going more his way, he thought. At least until he hears a knock at his door.
Alastor sighs, letting his head fall over the back of his chair. Who could it possibly be at this hour? After so much inner turmoil, he had very much wished to just relax in his room. It seemed as though even that was asking too much. Alastor steadies himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, and stands. He opens the door only to be surprised. Outside stood a very nervous looking Charlie. With a quirk of his brow; Alastor's grin grows.
“And what, may I ask, brings you to my humble abode at such a late hour?” He asks.
“Well,” she begins with a twitchy look in her eye. “Tomorrow we're doing a sort of graduation party,” she begins to explain how she has a surprise party planned for you, that your progress was so much faster than she could have ever assumed and so she wanted to throw you a party before you disappeared up to heaven.
Each new word from her mouth felt like another weight added to the chain that threatened to drag Alastor down into some deeper pit of hell itself.
“You think she'll be heavenbound soon?” He asks, his mouth dry.
“Yes!” She replies cheerfully. “The rain she was down here to begin with was pretty shakey, anyway. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken this long.”
“You'll have to excuse me, my dear, but I've just remembered I have something very important to take care of,” Alastor says with a harsh smile.
“But I haven't even asked what I came here to-” Charlie attempts to finish, but is cut off as the door closes in her face.
With a determination he hadn't felt in a long time, Alastor turns and I'm stalks towards his table, picking up his book and returning it to its shelf before dissolving into Shadow. He doesn't reappear outside your door, or even attempt to knock. Instead he apparates directly into your room. Luckily you were looking in the direction his shape takes form in so you're not quite as startled by his sudden appearance, even if it does shake you slightly, seeing as how you're in bed and in your nightgown.
“Alastor?” You ask as he solidifies and steps towards you.
"Darling," He whispers, a small smirk on his face at your state of undress. "I'm here to make a deal…”
"a deal...? with me?" You ask, curious.
"Yes, my dear," He murmurs, his tone turning serious. "Charlie has informed me that your ascension is nearing. I have come to persuade you to… make a different choice.”
You cock an eyebrow at him. "Oh... she said that?" You ask. "And why... is that?"
Alastor takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because, I'd be... lonely, without you here. I've grown fond of your quiet presence, and I don't like the thought of going back to solitude.”
You tilt your head. "But you have Charlie, aren't you and her quite close?"
Alastor pauses for a moment at your question, his eyes narrowing slightly. He never thought you would question his reasoning.
"She... it isn't the same," He growls. "I want you, here... always, keeping me... sane." A hint of sadness crosses his face, but it's quickly replaced by a smirk. "Charlie and I have... similar goals. But we are not close. She doesn't need me the way you do... and she certainly doesn't have... my tastes" He says, taking another step towards you.
You give up on this line of questioning and instead start a new one.
"So you want to make a deal for my soul?" you ask. "You get my soul and in return I can have... anything I want?”
Alastor smiles again, but more genuinely this time. "Yes... that's what I'm proposing. Your soul, in exchange for anything your heart desires." He says with a grin, sitting down on your bed and holding out a hand towards you. "Do we have a deal?”
You feel the static in the air, the sound seeming to fill your ears like a flood as he leans towards you. You watch as his antlers slowly grow and green scratch marks appear in the air, forming into unfamiliar symbols that flash in and out. You look down at his hand, your gaze steeling before you tentatively reach out, but then pause. Just as he thinks you might pull back, you do the opposite, confidently gripping his hand and looking at him with a determined glint in your eyes.
"Deal.”
Alastor chuckles low as you accept his hand and the deal. The static intensifies as he grips your hand back, pulling you closer to him. The symbols in the air flare brightly for a moment before they vanish, leaving a faint glow that's slow to fade. You watch as the green stitching appears in his lips, a gold contract and a quill appearing between you.
You take the pen and sign your name without hesitation. The moment the last letter is written, a flash of green light fills the room and you feel a heavy weight settle around your neck as a neon green collar appears there. The chain attached to it leading to Alastor's still outstretched hand.
Alastor chuckles again as the collar settles around your neck, tugging on it playfully. He brings his free hand up to trace a finger along the chain, watching it with interest before he looks back at you.
"The weight of your decision…” he says. You watch his finger as it slides down the chain, your body leaning towards him. Alastor's finger hooks into the collar, pulling a little harder, causing your body to lean closer to him still. "...is now physically upon you," he finishes, a dark glint in his eyes as he studies you. He leans in close, whispering seductively, "And what could you possibly want so badly you'd be willing to trade your soul for it without a second thought?”
"If I tell you, you can't go back on it right?" You ask, your eyes boring into his. "Just like I can't go back on the deal, you can't either, correct?”
Alastor smirks, a wicked and sinister expression taking over his features. "That's right," he confirms, running his thumb along the collar before letting it fall from his fingers. "Once you've signed the contract, there's no going back. So go ahead. Tell me what is it that could tempt you so drastically. What did you desire?”
You're silent a moment, just staring at him, still leaned in close, before a single word falls from your lips.
"You…”
Alastor tilts his head slightly, processing your word as you stare at each other for a tense, long moment. Slowly, his lips curl into a small smirk.
"You desire me?" He repeats, an almost mocking tone in his voice, but his eyes tell a different story.
You nod, silently moving forward towards him, closing the distance between you. Alastor watches as you crawl across the bed towards him. Something flashes in his expression, but it's gone just as quick as it came. He moves his hand from your collar to the small of your back, pulling you gently closer by slowly reeling you in. Closer, until your body is almost flush with his, able to feel the rise and fall of his chest under his suit jacket, his lips a breath away from yours. You look up at him, blinking rapidly, mouth slightly open.
"Yes," you say in almost a whisper. "What I desire most... is you…”
Alastor closes his eyes, your words causing a visible shiver to run through him. He's quiet for a moment, just simply holding you close before he takes in a deep breath and finally crashes his lips against yours, a low moan rumbling in his chest. You gasp into the kiss, moaning. Alastor takes the chance to slip his tongue between your lips, tangling with yours as he pulls you closer against him. His hands move from your waist and up your back, pulling you impossibly close as he devours your mouth hungrily.
A groan escapes him as he can feel your tongue fighting his own for dominance. He finds he likes the challenge. Alastor chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss for just a moment before diving back in, hands slipping up under your shirt to rest against the warmth of your skin. He matches your fight for dominance with his own, a growl rumbling through his chest as you continue.
Tonight, Alastor would claim full ownership of you...
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melodic-haze · 30 days
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want Himeko x Male reader, groping her chest ending up having sex😞
☆ — DEMO TRACK: bottom!Himeko x top!amab!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a dick :3, cum eating? Cuz ik some people aren't into it
☆ — NOTES: At the end of the day it's essentially semantics when it comes to writing in 2nd person (you/your instead of gendered pronouns) but I don't do male reader content sorry 😞. Most I can do for you is amab but otherwise I write gn or fem 🤷‍♀️ I'll still do this though bc this is silly :3
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It was essentially rest day for the Express, hooray!! Pom-Pom's navigating the train to your next destination so the Nameless actually get time off for once
You're spending it wisely by relaxing in Himeko's room and breathing in that rich smell of coffee in the air from all her daily brewing, the both of you out of your usual outdoor attire and in some looser, comfortable wear. You swear that you originally didn't mean to have things escalate beyond cuddling her as she read a new book she bought from the last location, though
Or maybe you did 🤷‍♀️ the universe may never know.......
It's just that....just laying there? Like okay sure you get time off which is GREAT you're not whining about that but like........there's nothing to do. You can't really help it when your hands just idly wander around here and there, exploring her body for something to do......
"Ah--"
You don't stop your minstrations on her chest, though you do look up at her face with a slight smirk, "Something wrong, Himeko?"
She looked down at you, eyebrows raised in a mix of amusement and a struggle to keep her composure, "Oh, no, nothing. I would like to ask of what you're doing, though."
..Your smug look is no more, easily replaced by a much goofier grin, "I'm exploring as a Trailblazer."
She snorts lightly, amusement growing at your little jest, "A Nameless' work is never done?"
"Absolutely not."
"Well, then, it would be remiss of me, to stop you from doing what you do best." She presses a kiss on the top of your head, "Go ahead. Though remember to.. use the resources you have around you."
"Mmhm." And you lift your head to gently bite on the bone of her collar, "I'll do you proud, trust me."
You continue your work on her tits as she resumes her reading (or at least tries to). At first you squeeze them gently, seemingly curious of the initial reactions you get an my GOD even as you're just starting, her reactions do NOT disappoint
I wouldn't be surprised if Himeko's REALLY sensitive to having her boobs played with just sayingggg❗️❗️ The effect's worse on her in this situation bc she hasn't got a bra on—why would she need it when neither of you are going anywhere? She's probably wearing like a thin button-up w panties on and that's it. Easy access for both you AND her, really, cuz MAN is everything else restricting 😞 so likeeee just hold her tits for her instead 🥰
At some point you can hear her breathing pattern quicken as you feel her slowly grinding on your thigh. She's letting out these noises that sound so unbelievably obscene, coming from the ever-so-composed woman that you're holding onto. Of COURSE you want more????? Wth I sure do!!!!!
She ends up dropping the book to the side, probably on the floor somewhere (she'll definitely lament ab it later but rn it's the least of her worries), and she hastily tries to unbutton her shirt bc "it's way too hot in here" even though she's fooling NOBODY when she takes one of your hands and puts it on her now-naked chest
PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO HER NIPPLES OH MY GOD squeeze them, flick them, lick them and suck them just PLEASE it'll drive her absolutely fucking CRAZY
Oh and if you think you're doing all the work??? Oh please she wouldn't leave you high and dry like that, she wouldn't be Himeko if she did!!!!! Her hand would be wandering down until she's able to palm your dick through the fabric of your clothes before actually taking it out and servicing you the best she can
It doesn't really take long for things to escalate further—you're as hard as a rock, she's wet from your constant fondling, both of you are practically aching to feel connected......so that's what you do
You climb onto her as she takes off her panties, guiding your cock onto her slit before pushing yourself in, and the moan she lets out is loud. It's like her sensitivity's even more heightened compared to your usual sessions, and all you did was play with her tits relentlessly
Speaking of, do NOT stop playing with them bc I guarantee you she'll be reacting even more than usual: it feels so fucking good to her that her insides are practically clamping onto your dick as you fuck her. Bonus if you duck down to suck on them and bite her mounds, switching between them as you squeeze and play with the other one, all while pistoning her (god help you if you don't know how to multitask (jokes she'll follow whatever pace you set))
And as tempting as it is to cum inside her when you feel like you're about to explode, trust me when I say if you pull out and cum on her chest instead it'll be SO very worth it. Cover her tits, give a classy woman a pearl necklace
She'll be left at her peak, only for her to stay there bc of the lack of release. She ends up playing with herself, both her chest and her her clit, to satisfy herself even though it's not enough—by GOD it could never be enough.. but the sight she sees as she looks down at her cum-covered mounds definitely has her going even more
You watch on at the show Himeko was essentially giving you, entranced at how her hands squeezed her own chest and played with her own nipples. Her golden eyes, usually so vigilant, seem to be clouded out and dazed as if she were in a trance.
And perhaps she was, with the way her fingers went to scoop up the ivory cum that covered soft skin before putting it in her mouth and licking it up until her digits are all clean. Without skipping a beat, she does it again, except this time her covered fingers easily slip deep into her cunt briefly before she retracts them.. though not fully, as she spreads her wet folds open for you to bare witness to.
"I don't need to beg, do I?" She asks, despite her expression showing that she's well on her way towards becoming completely dumb for you, "Why, mm.. why don't you explore even deeper?"
When you start up all over again, it's VERY clear that neither of you are going to be done for a good while. Neither of you would have it any other way (more like don't complain bc it's your fault you have her all riled up like this 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️)
Safe to say you found something to do.......and that everyone else will probably give you shit about the noise in the morning LMAOOOOOOO
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