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#I can get by with a dresser a desk and a bed
lunod · 1 year
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Ok so if I play my cards right I can afford a house all by myself on SSDI. 😬🤞
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sixftmp3 · 6 months
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sotd! that dog is right. it is okay, but its different.
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milo-is-rambling · 4 months
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Me vs outlining a perfect plan for my day in my head which I can be the only one allowed to change the schedule vs my mom asking me to do 2 simple tasks
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#she was like hey can you take the trash out I was like ughhhh okay yeah give me a min (I was still ordering weed)#my mom less than a minute later : hey if you want to break down all the cardboard out there I’d appreciate it Me: actually I’d rather not I#was about to shower right after I put this weed order in#then she gets all pissed at me bc I never do what she asks and blah blah blah blah blah#like. girl. I know she can’t see in my brain but I was not awake last night watching cleaning videos and psyching myself up for a day full#of cleaning my room and showering and doing laundry and cleaning funks cage and doobs cage and making my bed and dusting my ceiling fan and#taking apart my box fan to clean it and cleaning the water pitcher in the fridge and deep cleaning#like GAH I HAVE SO MANY PLANS TODAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DO NOTHING AND JUST SIT ON MY ASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP#ripping my hair out and screaming banging my fists on the floor#I literally was like yeah I’ll take the trash out no I will not break down boxes right now and she went off on a whole fucking thing like#just shut up.#I hate it. why do I make plans in my head of the exact order I have to do things and if one person suggest doing anything differently or#pushing my schedule back further than I wanted to myself I get so annoyed I explode into a ball of flames#I wanted to shower dry off pick up weed let out funk refill the humidifier clean the bathroom mirrors throw sort and clean the bathroom#shelves sweep start a load of laundry clean off my desk which means cleaning and organizing my closet or my desk dresser thing to fit the#crap on my desk and I have to clean and reorganize the space next to my desk so I can fit my boombox there bc the humidifier took its place#next to funk and like I want to just cry why does everything have to be so fucking difficult for me why is everything simple for everyone#else and for me every simple task is composed of one million baby tasks that I have to do in the correct order forever or everyone around m#will think I’m stupid and dumb forever like WHAT THE HELL WHY IS IT SO EASY FOR EVERYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST DO THING#IN WHATEVER ORDER AND IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT DO YOU MEAN A 20 MINUTE SETBACK DOESNT COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR DAY#AHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT#BUT INSTEAD. I WILL GO TAKE THE TRASH OUT. AND NOT BREAK DOWN THE CARDBOARD BC THAT MEANS GETTING MY KNIFE AND MY HEADPHONES AND PUTTING MO#CLOTHES ON WHICH IS COUNTERINTUITIVE#TO THE WHOLE ABOUT TO TAKE A SHOWER THING#UGHHHHHHH#I am the worst human on the planet and I deserve infinite suffering#fuck this whole thing I’m pissed I’m gonna listen to music and rage clean after I pick up weed and shower
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gotta-bail-my-quails · 4 months
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so i realized you can use powerpoints to imagine new ways to organize your furniture
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 6: One Step Closer
Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language
A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif found on Google)
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He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere. 
He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms. 
“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch. 
Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.” 
Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.” 
“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.” 
Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble. 
“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.” 
Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 
He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.” 
“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion. 
Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks. 
He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space. 
“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots. 
“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved. 
Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.” 
“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.” 
“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.” 
“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.” 
Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.” 
“‘Our girl?’” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.” 
“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.” 
Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.” 
“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.” 
“You think she’ll tell us?” 
“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.” 
“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed. 
Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour. 
He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head. 
“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.
“Shut it, Garrick.” 
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You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore. 
Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it. 
He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha. 
It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them. 
You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that. 
You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...
You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck. 
You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself. 
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“You’re up early, love.” 
You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it. 
“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!” 
“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight. 
“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk. 
“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest. 
Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier. 
“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.” 
He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it. 
Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier. 
“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?” 
“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.” 
Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places. 
It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. 
Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened. 
“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?” 
Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight. 
He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.” 
Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 
His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.” 
You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose. 
“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long. 
Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.” 
“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug. 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...” 
You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly. 
Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks. 
“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!” 
An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back. 
“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?” 
The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!” 
“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.
“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz. 
You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other. 
“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”
“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”
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“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”
“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel. 
“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John. 
John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs. 
“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.” 
“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer. 
“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”
“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat. 
Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”
John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha. 
“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says. 
John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be. 
He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try. 
Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta. 
John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to. 
John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one. 
“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”
John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock. 
“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk. 
“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs. 
He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity. 
He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too. 
“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach. 
“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in. 
His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess. 
“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck. 
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The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door. 
He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop. 
“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand. 
Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous. 
It could be. 
You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV. 
Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining. 
You'll pay for this later. 
You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary. 
Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person. 
It's almost ironic. 
You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.
You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile. 
You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you. 
“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts. 
You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh. 
“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm. 
You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door. 
“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly. 
You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room. 
“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision. 
You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment. 
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The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think. 
“Finally fixing the holes?” 
The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe. 
“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says. 
“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.” 
“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you. 
“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands. 
“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding. 
You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.” 
Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted. 
It’s understanding. Knowing.
You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”
 Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”
You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason. 
“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”
“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile. 
“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.” 
Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.” 
He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them. 
He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”
You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek. 
He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.” 
Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.” 
“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”
“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.
He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger. 
“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”
He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave. 
You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.
You can't wait for tonight. 
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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months
Text
no vacancy | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
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You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 
That is, until you opened the door. 
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 
“Sure looks that way.” 
"At least it's a queen?" 
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 
"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 
"–mind as long as you–" 
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
“Sorry,” you managed. 
“For what?” 
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 
“You just said ass.” 
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 
“I knew you’d agree.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 
Eventually, exhaustion won out. 
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 
“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 
“Don’t profile me.” 
“I’m not. I just know you.” 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 
“I told you to stop profiling me.” 
This time, he just hummed in response. 
“And so what if I stuttered?” 
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 
“That all makes total sense.” 
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 
“Now tell me the rest of it.” 
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 
“Yes.” 
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 
“It is.” 
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 
“Are you certain of that?” 
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 
“Okay, was it just me, or–” 
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed. 
“Spence?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 
“Well, you kissed me.” 
“I did.”  
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 
“You’re such an ass.” 
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 
You text back: okay? 
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 
You: what did u say? 
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 
You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 
Shit. 
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate?? 
Spencer: Yes 
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn. 
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 
2K notes · View notes
kaciidubs · 2 months
Text
Ass or Tits?
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❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Hey, Hyune?”
The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”
“What do you like better, ass or tits?”
He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.
“Your ass or tits?”
There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.
You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!?  This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”
“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”
His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”
Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.
“Mm… Tits.”
“I knew it.”
“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”
“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.
|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋
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“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.
“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”
“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”
“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”
“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”
The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.
“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”
The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.
“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”
Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”
“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”
“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”
“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”
“I can because I chose her tits!”
Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”
“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.
“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”
Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”
“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”
“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”
The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”
“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”
“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.
“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”
That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”
“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”
His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”
“That wasn’t even an-”
You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”
“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”
“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.” 
Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.
“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.
“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”
“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”
The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”
Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”
“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.
“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”
Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”
In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.
“Can we, Jagi?”
You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”
Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?
“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?” 
Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.
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“Are you ready, angel?”
You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”
In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you. 
Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.
“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”
Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”
“Smarta-”
The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.
“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”
Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.
“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”
Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.
“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.
“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.
It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.
In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.
“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.
Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”
There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.
“You have such a way with words, you know that?”
Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”
Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.
“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”
“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”
The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”
“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”
Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.
The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”
It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.
“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”
“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”
You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”
If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.
Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.
“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”
A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.
Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.
“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”
You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”
The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.
“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”
“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”
Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.
With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.
“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.
You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.
“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”
You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.
His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”
Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”
He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”
“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”
The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.
“You okay, pup?”
Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”
You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.
Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?��
“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”
Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”
Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.
“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”
Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”
You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.
“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”
“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”
Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.
“Noona, please-”
“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”
He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”
Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”
With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.
“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”
“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”
“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”
“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”
“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”
Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.
“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”
This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.
You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.
“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”
The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”
At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.
“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.
A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”
Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.
“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”
The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.
“Minho!”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.
“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”
Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.
Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.
The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.
Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”
Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.
He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.
“There it is.”
Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.
“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.
Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”
There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.
“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”
You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.
“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”
“Binnie.”
Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.
“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”
Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.
It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.
Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.
“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”
A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.
“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”
His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”
“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”
“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”
“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”
Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”
“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”
Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.
“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”
You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”
Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.
“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.
Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.
“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”
As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.
“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”
This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.
“Oh, god-”
There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.
“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”
Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”
A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.
With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.
He was definitely going to blow your back out.
It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.
“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”
It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.
“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”
“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.
He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”
Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.
The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.
“Sungie?”
“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”
“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”
Oh.
It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.
“Channie?”
“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”
“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”
“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”
“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”
With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.
“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”
You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.
“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”
“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”
Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”
“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”
“Seungmin!”
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wall-e-gorl · 1 year
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Didn't get to my sheets today (lil cousin stayed over after thanksgiving so I was otherwise occupied) but still feels great to have my room clean.
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keeksandgigz · 5 months
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more 18+ smutty thots (minors dni)
I don't know what came over me I was supposed to write an essay and this came out. disgustingly fluffy smut under the cut.
ok so while the idea of being fingered with rings on is really hot, I personally think it's really painful, you just get repeatedly punched in the pussy by like chunky metal. not very hot.
so picture this, Eddie always fingers you with his right hand because it's easier to take off one ring than three, big, chunky ones. He usually puts it down somewhere, maybe on his dresser or his desk, just so he knows he won't lose it.
And he's kneeling on the floor between your legs, getting ready to give you the biggest and sloppiest and the best head of your life. His hair is tied up and his other hand is keeping your thighs spread- now, the bite of those rings on your thigh you don't mind. They're cold and your flesh gets stuck in the gap between the ring and his finger, giving your inner thigh a delicious pinch.
But he's shirtless and he's famished and you notice that he still has that ring on. And he's circling your entrance with his ring and middle finger and as much as you'd love for him to keep going, because he's making you feel so good you have to stop him.
He emerges from in between your thighs, alarmed.
"What's wrong sweetheart? Need to stop?" his eyebrows are curled in a concerned manner, he's worried you weren't enjoying it. Ever the people pleaser.
"No no no, not at all" you huff, there is not enough oxygen in your brain for you to think right now. You stare at the ceiling, hoping that miraculously the words will come to you.
"What is it then?" he urges, giving your thigh a soft squeeze.
"Your um- your ring" you whisper softly, tilting your head towards his slick soaked fingers. He takes a moment to register, looking at his right hand, seeing the small little silver ring on his ring finger.
"Oh shit, sorry sweetheart" he goes to clean his fingers on the duvet of his bed, which makes you wince a bit. He probably won't was those sheets anytime soon.
He takes his ring off, but a malicious grin adorns his face as he plays with it a little, looking at you, still spread open and naked on the bed for him.
"Why don't you hold on to it for me?" he asks, as he reaches for your left hand, placing the slightly loose ring on your fourth finger. Your ring finger.
The thought makes you gasp as he wastes no time diving back into eating you out. His thick fingers spreading you open for him, as the gesture, though small, makes a wave of arousal mixed with utter love and devotion wash over you.
Your moans get louder with the possessive nature of the gesture, he wanted you to be his.
"Yeah? Y'wanna be my little wife?" he says in between licks and sucks at your core as his fingers make quick work of brushing that soft spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His words only top the whole thing off.
"Oh- sh-yes, Eddie!" and you're not even sure what you're saying yes to. Everything feels too good, from the way his ringed hand is gripping your thigh, to the way his too- big ring burns its way into your skin. His. His little wife.
Your right hand digs at his hair, grabbing and pawing at the soft curls, urging him to fulfill you, a carnal need for more of him. A need for him to have you in any way he can.
His fingers picked up the pace, compensating for your mouth separating from you, chin and nose covered in slick.
"Who would've guessed a ring was all you needed. I put this little piece of tin on your finger and you go insane? Trust me baby, I'll give you the real thing. I'll give you everything you want" he mumbles against the skin of your tummy, mouthing soft praises.
"So good for me, aren't you. Gonna be mine so soon" and the promises of such a certain future make your head reel. His fingers curling inside of you as you cry out, the feeling of him being everywhere on you. Inside and out.
His hair fanning on your tummy as he continues his trail of hisses to the hinge of your knee, your calf, your ankle. The arch of your foot.
Then his hand is on you, brushing stray hair out of your face, cupping your cheek as your moans become lighter, airier.
"You close, baby? My little wife wants to cum for me?" he asks, his mouth against the seam of your thigh, licking and sucking bruises in his wake.
And you can't really speak aside from soft hn! noises and the occasional cry of his name, a prayer above as your walls begin to tighten around him.
"'mclose" you deliver curtly and he smiles, watching the way your cheeks flush, your eyes can't stop rolling to the back of your head.
"C'mon, baby, cum for me" he says, and like a spell has been cast on you, you follow his order, tightening around his fingers that don't seem to be stopping as you ride out your orgasm.
You have to push his hand away, an overwhelmed whine coming out of your mouth as you lay there.
"No more, no more" you chant, laying back as he sits on his bed, laying your head on his lap, caressing your matted and sweaty hear, brushing them away from your forehead as you catch your breath, playing with the new addition to your finger to steady yourself.
"You can keep that if you want. Gonna get you a chain, wear it around your neck" he says, smiling down at you.
"But it's yours, Ed" you squeak out, tired in a post orgasmic glow.
"Consider this an advance. For when I get to put a ring on that pretty finger" he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
And you feel safe, secure. Happy.
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rafesfavgirl · 5 days
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boy, you got her — r. cameron
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part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)
❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor you knew what you wanted and,  boy, you got her ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.
words: 1.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.
"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."
when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date. 
was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.
you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."
a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"
"let's do it."
"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.
"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."
"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.
"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.
you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.
"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.
"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.
"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you, clearly caught by surprise.
jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.
"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."
"so who you goin' out with then?"
you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."
your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"
"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.
"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."
"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.
"hey, could you—" before he could even finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.
while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.
after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.
rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.
giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.
"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.
"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."
you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."
"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts. 
"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at the club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"
"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.
you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."
"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.
"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.
"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.
"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.
the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.
rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.
"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."
they? who the fuck is they?
"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."
"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."
"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."
"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"
"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."
"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."
"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"
"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.
"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."
you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.
"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"
a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."
jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.
"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.
"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.
a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.
"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.
"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"
"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."
by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.
a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.
"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.
"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."
you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"
you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"
"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"
"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."
a scoff leaves his mouth. "so our relationship really meant that little to you, huh?"
was he for real?
you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no. you don't get to use that against me. you meant the world to me, jj. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."
"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."
"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."
"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"
"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."
rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.
your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.
"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave. 
"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"
"you wanna stay?"
"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."
part 5.
i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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cutecipher · 3 months
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Help a marginalized scientist for her birthday!
So Ive been thinking about it and what I want more then anything for my birthday (which is pretty soon) is a comfortable place to sit in and a portable desk so I can properly work at home (as hard as Ive tried I really cant work on my laptop in bed without putting myself in pain). Ultimately what I'm asking for is the money to get a sofa and a portable desk which would be around $250 $200. If you like @rickybabyboy or y232.live or anything else that Im part of (or just want to help a disabled trans woman) please consider helping me out, ty for reading regardless!
Venmo: agief
Cashapp: $cmder
Paypal: https://paypal.me/agieocean
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Edit: realized I dont really need the desk I can just use my plastic dresser
Edit 2: on second look i think a sofa is more expensive then i thought
$75/$400 raised
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drudyslut · 1 month
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https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/drudyslut/739556685075611648
Rafe dating pogue reader and she and her (maybe she still lived with her family too) are moving houses/apartments and she’s like “rafe will you help me/us move?” And he’s like “sure?” And after moving boxes and furniture all day he’s like “I’m never letting you move stuff again. I’ll just pay someone. This was too much work” and then one of the first things they do once she makes her bed with sheets and blankets is fuck...
he’s such a cutie, willing to help then later on saying “yeah fuck this next time i’m paying someone”
CW: smut! 18+ established relationship, rafe’s a lil sweetie but also whiny bc manual labor, unprotected sex, praise.
note: this has been in the drafts since January (LMAO) and idk if i even like it but here ya go. likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3
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You’d been waiting on this day for so long. Finally getting to move out of your parent’s house, and live on your own. You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t going to miss them, of course you were, but living on your own meant getting to do whatever, whenever. It also meant you could have your boyfriend over whenever you wanted without the fear of your parents coming home and interrupting whatever it was you and Rafe were doing.
Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating a Kook. The Kook prince at that. But they didn’t know Rafe like you did, no one did. Not even your friends understood your infatuation with the eldest Cameron child. But not even the snide remarks and insults your friends and family made about Rafe made you leave. You loved him. And he loved you.
You’re sitting on your bed, swinging your feet back and forth as your eyes scan the length of your childhood bedroom. Boxes are scattered all around the room, the walls bare from removing all of your pictures and posters. You finally had everything packed, and now, all you needed to do was get moved into your new apartment.
Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your shorts, you pull up Rafe’s contact, pressing call and placing the phone between your shoulder and face. It rings once. Twice. And finally, he answers.
“Hey baby, what’s up?”
You smile. “Hi, Rafe. I was wondering if you could come help me? I have all my shit packed, but no way to get it moved into my new apartment.”
There’s a long pause. His silence making you wonder why it’s taking him so long to make up his mind. You are his girlfriend after all, he should want to help you.
He finally speaks after a beat of silence. “Sure, princess. I’ll be over in thirty.”
Your smile widens. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too, princess.”
You hang up the phone, deciding you could use a quick snack before he arrives, and making your way into the kitchen.
-
Thirty minutes later you’re lying in your bed, scrolling through TikTok when you hear a knock on the front door. Smiling to yourself at Rafe’s arrival, you hop out of bed and make your way to the door and swing it open.
“Hi, princess.” Rafe says, the smile you love so much gracing his face.
You step into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Hi, handsome. Thank you for coming to help me.”
His hands grip at your hips, pushing you back so his blue eyes are on yours. His eyes scan the length of your face for a minute before he speaks. “Of course. I’d do anything for you, baby.”
You can’t contain the wide smile that spreads across your face, butterflies explode in your stomach at how sweet Rafe was with you. Letting out a content sigh, you grab his right hand and begin pulling him into the house and to your bedroom where all of your stuff was.
“Okay, so I really just need help with my bed, dresser, and desk. I can fit most everything else in my car, and your backseats…”
Rafe exhales deeply, his eyes slightly widened when he looks over the expanse of your room. He brings his left hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Fuck. I should have just hired someone to do this.” He says admittedly.
You frown. “Baby, if you don’t wanna help I can always call JJ and John-”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’m going to help you baby, you just have… A lot more than I remembered. I guess it looks like more while packed all up and not placed in its respective places throughout the room..”
You smile up at him. “Yeah I guess so. I really don’t have all that much..”
Rafe dips his head down toward yours, placing his lips on yours softly. “I love you. Let’s get you moved.”
You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Oh, and never say you’ll call those fucking pogues to help you out again. As long as you have me, you have my help, and I don’t want you hanging around them more than you already do..”
-
Three hours, and many boxes and pieces of furniture later, you and Rafe had finally gotten all of your stuff moved into your new apartment. The two of you are laid in your bed, his right arm tucked under your waist while his left is draped over the top of your waist. His left hand rubs slowly up and down your side, his face buried in your neck as he whispers softly against your skin. “I love you, but never again. Next time you move, I’m hiring people to do that shit.”
You giggle, turning onto your side so you’re face to face with him. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to help baby, but I’m happy you did.”
He tightens both of his arms around your waist and rolls onto his back, bringing your body with him so you’re laid on top of him. You place both of your palms on his chest, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling his hips.
His hands rest on your hips, his fingertips lightly scraping at the exposed skin of your sides, a trail of goosebumps rising. “Will you stop that?”
You frown. “Stop what?”
“Acting like I hate helping you. I don’t.”
Sighing, you say. “I know you don’t hate helping me, Rafe. But I know you didn’t enjoy that.”
He smirks. “I didn’t. But you know what I will enjoy?”
The feel of his cock hardening beneath you has you gasping. You playfully smack his chest. “Rafe Cameron. You’re such a horny bastard.”
His darkened over eyes find yours as his smirk widens. His fingers dig into your hips, pressing your clothed pussy into his now hard cock. “Only for you, princess.”
A squeal comes from your lips when he lifts his body, tossing your back onto the freshly made bed. He grabs at the hem of his black T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head and tossing it to your bedroom floor. Your hands fly to his defined abdomen, running your nails down the soft, yet hard skin.
“You wanna play, baby?” He asks, his voice is low and raspy, making arousal pool into your panties.
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding your head as your eyes find his.
He smiles widely, quickly popping the button of your denim shorts before working the zipper and sliding the fabric down your legs. He moves to your shirt next, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor with his shirt and your shorts.
You’re left in nothing but a red, lace set. Rafe’s eyes take in your entire body, making you squirm underneath his stare. “Rafe.” You breathe out. “Please, touch me.”
He smiles widely, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties and sliding the lace fabric down your legs. His fingers dance across the skin of your lower belly, making a shiver run through your body and your breath hitch in your throat.
He runs his fingers down the expanse of your stomach and down to your inner thighs. His fingers brush across your aching clit and your hips buck upward. He begins sliding his fingers slowly through your wet folds, gathering your arousal on his fingers before he removes them and brings them to his lips. You watch in awe as he sucks on his index and middle fingers.
He hums in appreciation. “So wet, so sweet… And all mine.”
You watch as he quickly strips himself of his khaki shorts, leaving him in a pair of black boxers. Your right hand goes to palm his hard-on through his boxers, pulling a low groan from his throat.
“So fuckin’ needy, baby.”
He slides his boxers down his legs and his hard cock springs free, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight of his long and thick cock.
Rafe firmly grips the base of his cock, stroking it softly before he lines himself with your entrance. He slides his swollen tip through your soaked folds and you whimper, hips bucking wildly with need for him to be inside you.
He slowly pushes the head in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. He grins, pushing more of himself inside your wet cunt. He groans when he finally pushes all the way inside, your warm inner walls clenching around him tightly. “Feels so fuckin’ good baby, fuck! I’ll never get enough of this sweet pussy.”
You whine when he slowly pulls himself back. His right hand grabs at your left leg, lifting it and placing it over his shoulder, allowing him better access to thrust himself in side you. A sharp gasp falls from your lips when he slams himself back inside you, his head hitting that sweet spot inside you.
Finding a good, quick pace, Rafe slams himself in and out of your soaked pussy, the squelching sounds of your cunt and skin slapping skin bounce off the walls of your small bedroom.
You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him further into your body as he continues his assault on you. “Ffffuck, Rafe! Please! Harder!” You cry out.
A low growl rumbles through his chest, his hips picking up in speed. He harshly slams in and out of you, hitting at your g-spot with each thrust.
“Fuck, baby! ‘M gonna fucking cum all inside this pussy, you want that? Want me to fill your greedy hole up with my cum?”
You whimper, chest rising and falling rapidly as a warmth spreads in your lower belly. Your pussy tightens around his cock, squeezing at him tightly as your release nears.
“Yes! I want all your cum, Rafe! Please!”
You shout out a string of curse words followed by his name, legs shaking uncontrollably as you come undone around him.
He harshly thrusts one more time, his dick twitching inside you as he comes undone right behind you, filling your pussy with his cum.
“Fuck! Such a good fucking girl. My fucking girl” He coos as he thrusts two more times, fucking his cum deep inside you.
He drops your left leg onto the mattress and collapses on top of you, his breathing uneven. He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms tightly around your body and pulling you into him, leaving a kiss at the top of your head. “I love you, princess.”
You smile, your heavy eyes fluttering. “I love you too, Rafe.”
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RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r
requests masterlist | taglist form
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monarchberrysblog · 2 months
Note
Giving miguel backscratches. Idk saw requests open and i just had to. Theres a spot he just cant reach. Also miguel giving backscratches sounds awesome, dudes got killer nails. Tho maybe his nails would hurt idk
𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰
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Miguel O’Hara x GN! Reader
Summary: Your man loves some good back scratches.
Content Warning ⚠️: none lmao
Word Count: 837 words 😋
Author’s Note: Yes. I would DIE to give this man back stretched and for his talons to tear at my flesh and—
This isn't proofread, and mostly wrote this having the reader no pronouns and gender-neutral terms (if there are any)
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To my readers who love their baby girls (men who have emotional trauma and baggage), this is for you 💌
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The gentle pitter-patter of the cool rainwater created a soft, soothing melody that danced against the glass window. Its rhythmic beat was reminiscent of the delicate tapping of fingertips on a hollow, wooden desk, providing a sense of calm that embraced anyone in its embrace—a three-wick candle flickers from nearby, creating a cozy ambiance. The cozy smell of clean linen immediately filled the space while in a queen-sized bed, someone squirmed underneath the soft blankets and shoved some throw pillows away from them.
Slowly emerging from the sherpa blankets surrounding you, a big yawn escaped before you rubbed your eyes and looked around your room. It was the same old, same old—the cozy blankets and pillows, with a couple of plushies accompanying your bed.
Sighing in defeat, you tucked yourself back into the blankets and looked at the flickering candle. “When is he coming home…?”
The colorful hues of tangy orange, yellow, and red filled the space immediately.
As you lay in bed, lost in your thoughts, a deep sigh echoes through the silent room, drawing your attention. Slowly raising your head from under the covers, you glimpse Miguel's entrance. His tired yet friendly eyes meet yours, and a faint smile spreads across his lips, revealing a sense of relief upon seeing you awake.
“Hola…” He sighed, slowly making his way to your dresser, and dug around for his sweats that he always left behind. You let out another yawn before nodding your head.
The tangy colors that filled the room vanished as you looked over to see Miguel in his Spiderman suit still and slipped into his sweatpants. “Lyla, turn off the suit.” The unbodied AI responded quickly as his suit was deactivated immediately.
Miguel flopped onto your bed with a suddenness that startled you. The impact of his body caused a few of the plushies and decorative pillows to tumble to the floor while you bounced slightly from the force of his literal collapse onto the bed. “Hey,” You cooed to him before you placed your hand on his back, feeling his taut muscles underneath the pads of your fingers. A simple grunt from your partner was a good indicator that the man had a long day and wanted nothing to do but sleep and relax.
“Can you move your hand upwards?” Miguel grumbles to you, face-planted onto your pillows. Slowly, you moved your hand up and massaged the taut muscle. “No, cariño. Don't massage it. Can you scratch that spot?” You hummed to him in response and lightly scratched at the irritated spot. “How is that?” You whispered to him. He only grumbled in response, causing you to chuckle.
If Miguel wanted to, he could sleep through a tornado if he wanted to. The inconsistent sleep schedules were always a concern; however, the man managed to get seven hours of sleep per day, surprisingly. It was at an unhealthy consistency, but this was the first time in two weeks you had seen him on your bed, collapsed on top of plushies and pillows.
Miguel let out a contented sigh as your fingernails scratched his muscles, leaving an invigorating sensation in their wake. "Yes, thank you, cariño," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. He could feel his body responding to your touch, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. "Add a bit more force," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fox plushie he held tightly in his embrace.
You complied with his request, scratching a bit more aggressively, your fingernails kneading his flesh expertly. He let out a deep moan of pleasure, lost in the sensation. "There...move to the left, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. You hummed in response, your fingers working their magic, as you inched to the left.
"A little bit more," he urged, his voice growing more urgent. You complied, your fingers dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, completely lost in the moment.
"Alright, that's enough," he breathed out heavily. You instinctively hummed in acknowledgment before gently massaging the reddened and irritated area, which offered him a sense of relief. "How are we doing?" You turned to face Miguel, draping the soft and cozy blanket over him to provide some much-needed warmth.
As his hand moved towards your thigh, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. You felt a firm grip on the soft muscle of your thigh, his nails digging into your supple and warm flesh. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that he should be careful. The tips of his talons lightly punctured your thighs, with the talon in his thumb lightly drawing a puncture wound, drawing a trickle of blood. “Easy there…” You cooed to him, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles. The talons on the pads of his thumb retracted like a cat, and immediately felt his calloused touch.
“Everything is great now that I'm here…”
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on-leatheredwings · 2 months
Text
Dirty Laundry (18+)
Yandere! Dick Grayson x (Fem) Reader
> romantic, 18+ > Request: I think Dick would be a major creep and your rules didn't say anything about no nsft, so can I ask for a fic with this scenario: Dick stealing reader's underwear and using the dirty ones to get off while cumming into the clean ones. And putting the "clean" ones back into her dresser hoping she doesn't notice the stains and wears them? Thanks! > a/n: …………………………………… Ohhhh, so you’re crazy. Meaning, you’re just like me . thanks for the dick request i want to write him better/more ;u; had fun writing this! > tw: someone cumming in your panties without your consent or knowledge, so sexual assault. As well as yandere-typical thoughts and behaviors. > Word count: 1847 (Ugh this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max but i’m me.)
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Dick’s your best friend. 
… You guess.
He was new to Blüdhaven, and you two just seemed to keep bumping into each other in the rare times you left your apartment. Might as well get to know the guy. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, once he attached to you. And that was okay, because you liked him back and, frankly, were in quite desperate need for friends. The man currently lounges on your bed, sifting through a magazine while you’re mixing audio for this indie rock cover band that’s commissioned you. That’s your side hustle and passion, when you’re not being a work-from-home researcher for S.T.A.R. Labs. 
You’re an hour into your work and Dick Grayson is lounging on his spot on your bed, because he has claimed a spot at this point. All is well with the world. Then, your stomach lets out a groan, and so do you.
A pair of eyes, all ocean blue and twinkling, slide over to you without a second’s hesitation. You meet them, unblinking and unperturbed. Does he know he’s kind of a freak? Being all light-eyed and adoring?
You stand up without fanfare, removing your headphones from your ears and letting them sit around the column of your neck.
“I’m going to get food from the place next door.”
You yawn and walk away from your desk. That usually was much harder for you, but Grayson’s presence in your life had made it more of a priority for you to care for yourself. “Don’t touch anything,” you say, plainly and without venom. Without another word, you’re gone, and Dick launches up from his seat once he hears the front door to your flat close.
He told himself he was going to do this today. He told himself, and he is a man of his word.
He opens the bottom drawer of your dresser, where he knows you keep your clean pairs of underwear. Then he trespasses into your closet, where he knows you keep your laundry basket.
Dick knows where a lot of things are in your apartment, and he has made it his job to know every inch of your bedroom specifically. When you leave the room, like times like this, he enjoys going around and familiarizing himself with everything. And he’s planted cameras, of course. He does leave your en-suite restroom alone, an act he pats himself on the back for. You deserved your privacy, after all. To his disappointment, you do tend to masturbate exclusively in the shower, and he must tide himself over with the audio his cameras pick up, rather than visuals.
After a moment’s hesitation, Dick buries his hands into your laundry basket. These were the things… you wore. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. Still, he had no time to waste. While often busy, the Chinese place you were at was also known for its fast service. Dick grabs the first pair of panties he sees: blue lace-trim, white in color, with blue gingham. You’re so cute. 
He sits in your closet, back to your hamper, slides off the jeans that look really good on him which he hopes you’ve noticed. All of these actions are done a little clumsier than normal because his pulse roars in his ears.
He lets his head fall backward, and he begins pumping his cock with your panties in that same hand. He thinks of your face, your body, your hands. He really likes your hands, so adept and amble, always flying across a keyboard or strumming a guitar. He thinks about the honest things you say, truthful but usually with tact. He thinks about your eyes crinkling when he’s being a show-off, and your pretty lips that you’re usually wetting with your tongue rather than finally just getting lip balm. 
At this point, Dick is a wreck, eyes glazed over and only half-open. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. He goes slack-jawed, pink lips only a little swollen from his biting down on them. He’s about to finish, he knows he is. It’s building in him like the birth of a tidal wave. Pre-cum and his sweat have soiled your gingham pair, and he looks at the very plain pair of navy blue boyshorts in his free hand, clenched into a fist. He finds himself blushing. Your underwear is so… you, and it’s hilarious that holding them in his hand is what is flustering him so much. Considering what he’s doing.
Dick whimpers, a sound that’s both embarrassing and utterly liberating. Pleasure pulses in between his legs, his back shoots into an arch, his balls hike up to the base of his cock. He cums with a raspy cry, right onto the crotch of your boyshorts. He had initially planned to just finish anywhere on the fabric, but at the last second decided to cum where your cunt would touch. He’s kind of romantic like that. (He’s also kind of a pervert, and he knows that.)
He pants in the afterglow of his orgasm, cheeks painted over with rosy pink. He tosses your white pair back into its home, the laundry basket.
His calloused fingers reach up for the corner of his mouth, which had been agape this whole while. 
… Was he drooling? 
Dick robotically proceeds to rub his semen into your underwear until it's just a dark stain. He pulls his dark jeans from the pool of black denim they formed at his ankles, he runs his fingers through his hair at a job well done. He returns your boyshorts to your dresser, neatly folding them like all the rest. And finally, he wipes his mouth. He returns to your bed, and it’s like nothing has happened since you left.
Dick Grayson – Gotham pretty boy, badass superhero – should probably cringe; in any other context, isn’t that so lame…? But considering it was you, honestly, what could he have expected…
You come back into your bedroom, a bag of takeout swinging from your hands. His eyes don’t leave you for an instant.
… You simply have that effect on him. 
You stomp through his room until you’re right in front of him, where he pretends to be scrolling on his phone. Your arms are akimbo as you stare down at him, blocking your room’s overhead light with your skull and casting your shadow over him. He looks up and smiles cheekily.
“Alright, Dickard.” Dick’s lips quirk. “Get out. I’m going to shower and change.” Sniffing yourself on the way back, you decided it was high time you did. 
Dick’s brain goes a mile a minute. Shower. Change. Underwear? His heart skitters but he doesn’t show it. 
“Aw, don’t let me stop you. Feel free,” he teasingly sings.
Your eye twitches and you take it upon yourself to physically move him. Not that you could if he chose to actually resist. You know that he must be strong, stronger than ‘doing acrobatics as a hobby’ must make someone. You’ve caught a peek at his abdomen and biceps now and then. Guy is ripped. 
“Go eat,” you order, throwing the takeout into his hand. “I got enough for the both of us.” Why, Dick could twirl his hair and kick his feet right now – despite a prickly exterior, you really were a sweetheart, weren’t you? He refuses to have you pay for him though. He will definitely be returning the favor thricefold.
You successfully shoo the six feet tall model out of your room. 
Once he’s out, you take your shower, standing for five minutes in the spray until it grows warm. You think with amusement at the idea of movies and TV making women showering such a sexy, erotic scene. Bitch, you are in here scrubbing pots and pans. 
After the job’s done, your feet land on your worn shower mat from college, and pad towards your bedroom once more. You catch a towel on your way there, belatedly remembering that Dick Grayson may still be loitering in your bedroom, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of him seeing your private bits. Warily shifting eyes from behind the door, you see no one’s around.
Knock knock. 
“Are you done?”
Dick’s voice from the hallway makes you panic, fearful that he may burst in before you’re ready and presentable. 
“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a woman while she’s getting ready in her boudoir!“ you yell, hoping some rich person’s instinct suddenly clicks in him. You thought rich men were supposed to be gentlemanly. Really, ever since meeting Dick, who is son to the richest man in the state, you’ve learned rich people all must be whiny, clingy, braggers, show-offs, and sometimes, just plain brats. In your hurry, you swipe a panty from your drawer and slip it on past your thighs. Body still damp from the shower, you don’t notice anything. 
The rest of your clothes follow, and you choose to sit back down in your desk chair. You turn back to your double monitor set up, ready to become a screen zombie once more when you remember someone’s waiting for you.
Without turning around, you holler, “Come in.” 
Without a moment’s pause, Dick reenters, takeout plated for the both of you in each hand. He places one smoothly in front of you with butler-like precision. 
“Your meal, madam,” Dick says in a Parisian accent, and you do smile in amusement. His eyes dilate, but you don’t notice.
“Thank you, my fine sir,” you return, a little embarrassed, accent weak, but willing to keep up the bit.
Dick knows not to disturb you too much while you work, so he wanders away as you slip your headphones over your ears once more. But before returning to His Spot on the bed, he quietly treads to your dresser. He sneaks a glance to make sure you’re still occupied. And you are, that blue wash of light painting your skin. 
He pulls out the drawer, and– hhhhh.
He heaves with breath involuntarily, although it’s nearly imperceptible. You do make him slip more than he likes, but he’s experienced. He glances once more to make sure you didn’t hear that, and of course you didn’t. You’re still fiddling in Ableton Live.
He shuts the drawer and stalks to His Spot on the bed, and anyone who knows Dick Grayson would see that he is tense. He is stiff.
And how could he not be? You’re wearing the underwear he had cum on. Did you notice? Is this your way of coming onto him? No, you’re too forward to play games… Something he finds both refreshing and a shame, because he loves games. You simply mustn't have noticed. Regardless, the knowledge fills him with such ecstasy and arousal… and longing. 
He eyes you discreetly as his skin reddens. He tries to act natural by eating steaming orange chicken, plucking it from his plate with a chopstick. One day, he’ll have you, in body and soul. 
Until then, he can entertain himself with this game, however one-sided.
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cameronspecial · 2 months
Text
Let Me See It, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.9K
Summary: Rafe never wants Y/N to not be able to do something she wants because of her financial situation.
A/N: This video is the inspiration.
Masterlist
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Everyone knows Rafe Cameron is packing in his pants and his bank account. So Y/N isn’t blind to the money her now-boyfriend has. What is surprising to her once she starts dating the Cameron man is his complete willingness to give large amounts of his money to her. Not that she asks, he randomly sends her the money and will refuse to take it back whenever she tries to return it to him. He literally threatened once to stop eating if she didn’t take the money. However, it doesn’t stop her from trying to impede him from giving her the money. Rafe always finds a way though. Y/N is lying in his bed, reading a book for class while he is in the shower. Her phone on his bedside table buzzes every few minutes with a new notification and although she is annoyed by the sound, she is too lazy to turn it on Do Not Disturb. The sound of the continual stream of water coming from the shower head stops and out comes Rafe with only a towel around his waist. The drops of water slowly running down his smooth abs pull her attention from the page. Rafe catches her gaze and smirks to himself. The vibration from her phone causes wrinkles to form between his eyebrows. He raises a finger to point at the technology, “Let me see it, Angel. Please.” 
She doesn’t question his request. She has nothing to hide and she trusts he doesn’t have any malicious intent with wanting to see it. He probably wants to put it on DND or check the time. Y/N hands it over with her eyes returning to her book. With her phone in his hands, Rafe can now see who is blowing up his girlfriend’s phone. It’s her study group, which is comprised mostly of other male students. For some, this fact would bring jealousy to their partner, but Rafe feels secure in his relationship with Y/N and it also helps to know the reason why there aren’t a lot of women in the group is because Y/N’s other female friends are busy with work. What does get his emotions going is the actual messages of the group chat. 
Dinner at Greenleaf later tonight? One of the members of the group chat texts and it is followed by agreement from the other members. Rafe’s eyes find the blue bubble belonging to his girlfriend’s response. Sorry guys, I can’t. I have to start budgeting with tuition for next semester coming up. This breaks Rafe’s heart that his angel can’t go out with her friends because she needs to save money. Not being able to do something he wants to do because of money is something foreign to Rafe and he is determined to make sure Y/N doesn’t have to choose between what she wants to do and what she can afford. He grabs his phone from his desk, opening his bank app immediately. He sends an e-transfer to her and once he knows the text notification has gone through, he places her phone on her stomach. His hand yanks her book out of her hand. He tilts his head toward his dresser, where she keeps some spare clothes. “Get ready, you are going out to eat.” He struggles to not invite himself to the dinner, but he knows that it is healthy for them to have lives outside of their relationship. One of her eyebrows raised, “What are you talking about? I thought Topper wanted to try this recipe he found on TikTok.”
“He does. You aren’t going to be here for it because you are going to Greenleaf with the others.”
“Oh, Rafe, I already told them I couldn’t go. I have to start saving for tuition.”
“Check your phone,” he orders, flicking his chin to the phone on her stomach. She opens her phone to find the notification and shakes her head, “You have to stop sending me money, Rafe. I know how to budget and I can take care of myself.” “I know you can take care of yourself, Angel. But it’s not like you aren’t taking care of yourself if you take it. So put the money in your account and start getting ready before you are late,” he says, finally deciding it is time to get his own clothes on. She sighs and does as he orders. Her eyes widen at the number she sees. This is the largest sum of money he has ever sent her. “Rafe, ten thousand dollars! I’m not going to spend that much on dinner,” she argues, already making it her mission to send back ninety-nine percent of it. He shrugs, “It’s fine. Get whatever you want and you can pay for everyone else’s bill too. I also might have to get you to get me something in case Topper decides to go off-book with the recipe.” “Even if I got all that, it still wouldn’t break a thousand,” she persists. He takes her phone out of her hand and points at her clothes, “Don’t worry about it, Angel. Start getting ready. You don’t have to use all the money for dinner tonight. I’m only making sure you have enough money in case you need stuff for school or home or something.” 
Upon seeing the time, Y/N ceases the small argument and begins to change. She kisses Rafe once she has her clothes on, heading out the door with the exchange of I love yous. Y/N may have agreed to take the money and knows he wants her to spend it on her, yet it won’t stop her from getting the new ring she knows he has been eyeing for a while now. Just because Rafe’s love language is gift-giving, it doesn’t mean she can’t give something right back to him.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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f1daydreamers · 2 months
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 [𝐋𝐍𝟒] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
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gif credits: @eightyones
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
Summary: To say you weren't the biggest fan of Lando Norris was an understatement, but you also happened to underestimate just how willing the man was to prove to you that he'd changed.
Warnings: just very strong feelings (not good ones lol), Reader’s a little angry in this one so yeah, remember that this is all fiction and not telling of the actual person!
A/N: I hope I can stay consistent with posting but writer’s block is the truest thing ever so pray for me everybody (for your own sakes tbf lmao, ik whoever read the Lance series was defo not happy with my oh so consistent updates)
Here’s Part 1 if you missed it :)
Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading time avg)
"What're you wearing?" Allegra popped her head into your bedroom, to see if you'd gotten changed but you hadn't, still blankly staring at your dresser.
"Uh, don't know." You breathed out, you'd spent a good half an hour trying to rid these damning thoughts about having to go to Woking tonight. Though that wasn't necessarily the problem; he was.
It didn't go unnoticed how your heart would beat a little faster when you remembered he still existed, your hands would instinctively clench into fists, your body simmering with unresolved rage.
A simple and menial task had a shadow cast over it. You hated that.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Allegra commented, strolling past you and spreading a variety of outfits on your bed.
"Nope, just buzzing with excitement." You murmured out a feeble response, grabbing whatever seemed the cleanest from your drawer and tossing it onto the desk chair in the corner.
Turning, you found Allegra holding up two mini-dresses and arched an eyebrow at her.
"Ally, it's January." She paused for a moment before casually throwing them behind her onto the bed and picking up a pair of light blue washed-out jeans with a white crop top.
"That's better." You smiled.
"Can't believe we have to wear the ugly-ass Google jacket." She grumbled as she shoved the rest of her clothes back into her bag, and you chuckled.
"Yes, believe it or not, we are going there to work." You reminded yourself more than her; it wasn't a social event, just networking and taking photos for the social media team. Not exactly difficult.
You made a mental note to ask James when he was leaving so you knew when to be ready by.
"I know! Still, I want to look good while I'm working." Allegra countered and you hummed in response, it wasn't the most appealing article of clothing but there was no way around it either.
"I hope we get to meet the drivers. Ugh, I'm totally living out a dream right now!" Allegra chirped.
The prospect crossed your mind, and you froze, envisioning how the encounter might unfold if he recognised you. Would he be surprised? Or would he avert his eyes in shame?
Maybe you'd throw a drink in his face before he could react. You exhaled; no, you couldn't do that. Nick would probably chop my head off, you thought. Throughout the past week, he had incessantly emphasised the importance of making a lasting impression. Smile, be helpful, talk to everybody. The mantra seemed to have etched itself permanently into your brain.
"Doesn't matter," you muttered. You'll have Allegra, James, there'll probably be hundreds of people tonight; you won't see him.
There's no way.
...
"Who are these lovely ladies?" You grinned as you and Allegra neared James, casually leaning against his BMW – our ride there.
"Ladies who kicked your ass at stats last week." His smile faltered into a thin line as he turned to you for help, but you raised your hands in mock surrender.
"30K each, baby!" You chuckled, Allegra facing you, raising her hand for a high-five that you gladly met.
"Alright, alright, don't forget this ride is free." James opened the passenger door as you climbed in first, your friend following suit.
He jogged over to the driver's side, slipping into his seat.
"And we love you for it." You teased, and he only rolled his eyes, tugging on his seatbelt and clicking it into place.
The hour and a half ride to Woking was filled with mindless chatter and jokes, while it served as a sufficient distraction for some time, your mind began shifting elsewhere.
The night ahead brought a mix of anxiety and an underlying sense of dread.
You were replaying your conversations from long ago, you remembered every evening you'd come home and complain to your mother how him and his friends were the most intolerable assholes on the face of this planet.
Growing up, you'd met a lot more of those but learned to handle them better.
Being a teenager meant your parents only waved it off, giving advice that you knew would never work - telling the teacher, standing up to them, ignoring them completely.
No matter how much you defended your friends, their teasing was endless.
Perhaps you inherited your 'forgive but never forget' attitude from a grandparent considering your parents aren't the type to hold a grudge until the end of time.
You shifted in your seat, attempting to shake off the apprehension that settled in your chest. Each passing mile brought you closer to Woking and the event that would unfold there. A lump formed in your throat, and your palms felt a bit clammy.
As you rubbed them on your jeans, James calling your name pulled you out of your trance-like state. "What's with the sour face?"
"Wishing I was in bed right now." That wasn't technically a lie, you'd always in any situation rather be in your bed.
He laughed, taking his eyes off of the rearview mirror to turn right before speaking again, "hopefully this shit doesn't last too long." You were sure it was for different reasons but you agreed wordlessly, Allegra scoffed.
"You guys are boring, this is a Formula 1 team! Come on, where is the energy in here?"
If you looked past the reasons why you thought tonight was a complete recipe for disaster, you understood her excitement, hell, maybe you were even a little excited yourself.
"It's going to be amazing," you smiled, squeezing Allegra's hand.
James nodded, "just as fun as losing to you two loonies at stats."
...
Together, you all passed through the entrance of the MTC after the security personnel checked your passes.
The sleek backdrop was instantly punctuated by the papaya-coloured uniforms that caught your eye. Inside, a crowd of employees, journalists, and photographers were engrossed in their respective responsibilities. The main area buzzed with chatter and laughter. The illuminated Google and McLaren logos adorned the wall side by side. The sheer vastness of the centre initially overwhelmed not only you but also James and Allegra on either side, their silence telling. "Woah," Allegra eventually breathed out, and you subtly nodded in agreement, acknowledging her reaction. Rope barriers enclosed the Formula 1 cars in the central area, creating a grand yet slightly intimidating exhibit. "I'm so ready to work," you chuckled, recognising Allegra's sarcasm as her eyes sparkled with a playful glint. Both of you knew that 'work' was code for mingling. She slipped away swiftly, leaving you briefly alone.
You turned to face James who, ever the social butterfly, beamed with enthusiasm.
You consciously wrapped your hand around his upper arm, a silent cue he readily understood. It's not that you didn't do well in social situations, you just didn't do well alone in social situations.
He knew that.
You allowed him to navigate you both through the crowds of people, engaging in light conversation and making necessary introductions along the way.
However, your nerves bubbled beneath the surface. Constantly glancing around, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, your eyes scanning the room constantly.
As the hour passed, both you and James, occasionally bumping into Allegra who was way too excited to stay in one spot for too long, continued navigating the sea of people while keeping a watchful eye for a familiar face you hoped not to encounter.
But eventually, you did. Right there, in the midst of the crowd. You couldn't be entirely sure it was him though the resemblance was nothing short of uncanny.
He looked different, changed somehow. He adorned facial hair now, quite a bit of it too, he was clad in white trainers, black sweatpants, and a McLaren hoodie.
A clear departure from the person you remembered.
As your gaze lingered on him, you became sure when a wide smile grew on his face. It was a smile that you knew all too well, one that sent a jolt of recognition through you.
His figure had grown, perhaps he was an inch or two taller but you couldn't be sure.
You didn't spend any minute with him judging his height, you spent those minutes despising him, hating him, cursing his name and his rich, arrogant ass.
A moment of panic washed over you, and instinctively, you moved away as swiftly as you could, hoping to avoid catching his attention.
A tumultuous wave of emotions crashed through you, each feeling more intense than the last as you swerved through bodies to get to the farthest point away from him.
Torment churned within, a relentless reminder of past wounds that seemed to have resurfaced. Anger flared up, fuelled by memories of his past actions that had left scars on your heart.
A weight of sadness settled in your chest, the realisation that the wounds he caused still had enough power to reopen.
A conflicting turmoil seized your thoughts. On one hand, an impulsive urge to confront and release pent-up frustration surged. Simultaneously, another part of you longed to escape, wishing to erase this night from memory as quickly as possible.
In an attempt to distract yourself, you hastily poured a cup of water, downing it in a single gulp before effortlessly tossing it into the bin.
The thought of texting James or finding Allegra crossed your mind, but the lack of energy left you rooted in place, unable to summon the will to move.
You attempted to swallow, hoping to dispel the lump in your throat, and were startled when you felt a vibration from your phone. Glancing at the screen, you noticed it was a message from Nick.
Check in with me soon. Want to see how you’re getting on
Your thumbs hesitated over the keyboard, your mind devoid of any thoughts except those consumed by the current predicament. The panic in your chest felt like it could explode at any moment.
You locked your phone, shoving it into your pocket, taking several deep breaths but not before you were interrupted.
"You alright, darlin’?” Your breath hitched in its throat. Now there was zero denying if it was or wasn't him. Nobody else has ever called you that.
Anger quickly consumed you.
"Still a prick, I take it?" Your jaw ticked as you responded through gritted teeth. You hated that nickname.
Ignoring your remark, he nonchalantly picks up a cup, pouring its contents without a care. "What brings an old friend here?"
"Is that what we are? Is that what we ever were?" You ask, reminiscent of the unpleasant past. You finally look up to meet him, his eyes narrow as if he’s scrutinising you, but he’s not.
He’s merely staring.
"You didn't come all this way to start on me now, did ya?" The flatness in his voice evident.
"You certainly make it easy." You retort.
He smirked, "you’re certainly just as charming."
You roll your eyes, deciding he wasn't worth the time you were losing when you could instead be working or being around people you actually tolerated.
But before you can, he unexpectedly grabs your hand, his grip a lot stronger than what you remember. You tightened your lips, holding back any remark that might draw unwanted attention.
"Why are you acting like that, darlin’?" His question came in a near-whisper, laced with a hint of.. disappointment?
"Like what?" You murmured, meeting his gaze.
His eyes wander, trying to pinpoint the look in yours, "like you hate me."
Observing his face for a moment, you chuckle bitterly. Your phone was buzzing continuously, it must be Nick, you thought.
"Because I do, asshole." With that, you yanked your hand away, turning to leave as you grabbed your phone out of your jacket pocket to pick up Nick’s call.
...
Part 3
Masterlist
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