#I hope you like this because this took me for fucking ever
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♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟮₊˚🔪・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 FIVE ORGASMS HELP 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you 𖥔 toji is a certified p*ssy eater 𖥔 MDNI ffs
: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: sorry ive been mia mamas, im currently depressed. here's part two yall have been waiting for. love u READ PART ONE HERE
Throughout dinner, your leg trembled incessantly, your gaze flitting to the clock every five minutes. The hunger to refute Toji's belief in the dominance of your bloodline churned in your stomach, causing it to growl. You needed to assert the fact that you were capable of making decisions.
Sure, the majority of your significant choices had been dictated by your parents. Whether it was forsaking art school to follow in your father's Ivy League footsteps or opting for low-calorie breakfasts to squeeze into yet another gala dress you didn't desire—
Alright, fine. Perhaps you weren't as adept at making your own decisions as you'd hoped. This realization dawned on you during your brief exchange with Toji, a stranger not listed on your parents' VIP list.
It was a rebellious decision and it felt . . . great.
“Hey, Dad?”
Your father shifted his gaze towards you, perched at the head of the table while you and your mom sat across from him. “Yes, dear?”
“I... I'm not feeling great.” You’re seriously going to do this, huh?
“What's going on?” Your mother’s fork paused mid-air.
You nervously rubbed your stomach, silently hoping they'd catch on to what you were trying to convey about your period. Your fingers stayed crossed under the table, hoping they'd buy your excuse.
“Very well.” Your father cleared his throat, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “You can go rest for the night.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, hastily grabbing your purse and bolting out of the restaurant, the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you made a beeline for the elevator.
Standing outside Toji's suite on the twelfth floor was dreadful.
Your fingers fumbled in your purse until they found the napkin, clutching it tightly as if it were a lifeline.
Mentally, you battled against the urge to knock on the door. It felt absurd, this impulse to approach a stranger's room solely because of his allure—the way he towered over you, his muscles seemingly carved from stone, and those piercing eyes that seemed to peel away your facade layer by layer until you felt exposed to your very core.
With each heartbeat, your stomach churned at the prospect of another mundane conversation where you'd merely be reduced to a run-of-the-mill woman. That's all you were to him, unlike the pretentious jerks who had been eyeing you judgmentally from across the dinner table.
Tapping on the door, you smoothed down your hair and subtly adjusted your bra, just in case things took a turn for the better. The door creaked open, revealing Toji, looking as intimidating and smug as ever.
You lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey—” Suddenly, your feet left the ground, and you found yourself tossed over Toji's shoulder like a rag doll. “What the fuck?”
“Cursing suits you, sweetheart.” He carried you back to his room and plopped you onto his bed, settling over you. As you sank into the mattress, you covered your chest and turned your face away while he scrutinized you. “Did you eat?”
“A bit.”
“That eager to see me, doll?”
“No,” you replied, unsure, but Toji easily detected your falsehood. “Did you eat?”
“No.”
“Just order room service.”
“I did.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “She’s here.” His lips ghosted over the curve of your ear. “And I’m fucking starving, sweetheart.”
You blinked rapidly, your hands gripping his shoulders, the urge to push him away and retreat to your family dinner strong.
“Why are you here?” Toji's breath brushed against your cheek, not quite a kiss but stirring something within you nonetheless, causing your legs to clench involuntarily.
“To talk,” you mumbled. “I also wanted to get to know you.”
“Is that so?” His chuckle was laced with mockery, causing you to shrink inward, hugging your elbows defensively. “Fine. You can ask me a total of five questions, and I'll answer with complete honesty.”
“Really?” Your eyes sparkled as they met his bemused gaze.
“On one condition.”
Your stomach twisted with apprehension. “What is it?”
“One orgasm for every question.”
Your lips pursed, your muscles tensed, and you were overwhelmed by his condition. Could a woman actually achieve five consecutive orgasms? Especially one who had never experienced sex and struggled with self-pleasure? Was Toji capable of such feats? Was he worth getting to know?
He nonchalantly played with your hair, waiting for your answer. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind that signature smirk that never slipped from his lips.
His lips.
You wanted to kiss that scar. You wanted to know how he’d gotten it. You really wanted to get to know him. You just didn’t know why. It wasn't as though you could bring him home to meet your family; he didn't fit the mold they expected. He didn't match the conventional standards of appearance, even though he perfectly matched yours. Yet, his personality had an undeniable charm that captivated you.. And his personality was charming to you. If you couldn’t have his soul, at least you could have his body. And you had a feeling he wanted the same.
“Okay,” you finally said.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” Before he could move, you pushed your palms against his chest. “But I’m a virgin. So, don’t . . . you know.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not fucking you yet.” Yet. That word made your stomach roll. “I told you I was starving, and my dinner is between these pretty legs.” His rough hand smoothed up your thigh. “Now, be a good fucking girl and pull your dress up for me.”
As he rose, your gaze lifted with his, perched back on his knees. Nerves fluttered within you, but you pushed them down. With a steady hand, you grasped the edge of my dress, feeling its fabric between your fingers, and began to lift it, slowly revealing what lay beneath. “Wait. Is it going to hurt? Orgasming five times?”
“You might pass out.”
“But I’ve got an early lecture tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest you better hurry if you want your answers, doll. I want to take my sweet time savoring you.” Toji winked, and your legs quivered.
With a nervous gulp, you lifted my dress, exposing your thighs and panties to him. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you focused on the ceiling, pretending it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Ignoring the itch on your cheek, you dared not move.
Toji’s cuffed your ankles, urging your legs upward, causing them to bend. His large hands rested on your knees, spreading them apart. Glancing down, you met his intense gaze as he lowered his head. “You’re already so wet, sweetheart.”
You clenched your jaw. “First question.”
“Shoot.” His lips grazed the soft skin of your inner thighs. You sucked in a sharp breath from the fluttering sensation, eyes closing as the blissful kisses continued ricocheting from one leg to the other.
“Where do you work?”
Toji chuckled against your skin, the heat of his mouth brushing over your clothed sex.
You looked up and locked eyes with Toji, his gaze intense under his hooded lids. He playfully stuck out his tongue, tracing it along your most sensitive area, causing you to sink back onto the pillows, overcome with sensation. “Oh, God.”
He teased you further, swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit, his laughter mingling with your pleasure as you writhed on the bed.
With a mischievous grin, he hooked his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your thighs. A soft whistle escaped him, his warm breath teasing your skin. “Here we go, baby,” he murmured, his fingers coated in your arousal, presenting it to you. “This is what I’m talking about.” He cleaned his fingers with a lick and urged your legs apart, ready to continue.
Toji's tongue expertly gathered your pre-cum as he licked and flicked your clit, trailing kisses from your entrance to the peak. His mouth widened, enveloping your pussy as he sucked eagerly. The pressure in your stomach intensified, akin to standing on the precipice of a cliff, as he held you firmly by the back of your shirt.
“Toji—”
“Hmm?” He moaned, intensifying his suction and digging his nails into your thighs. With a loud pop, he released, then swiftly resumed lapping at your clit. The stimulation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, wailing moans drowning out your breaths.
Sensing your impending climax, you felt the tension building in your stomach, his palm pressing down to restrain you. “Toji— Toji— I'm so close. God, I'm so close!”
“Are you?” Toji asked as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The moment a scream escaped you, your hands flew to your mouth. With his hands, he lifted your hips and thrust his warm, delicious tongue in and out of you, resembling a panting dog. He felt your tight, soft walls clench him in, the tip of his palette probing every sweet spot inside of you.
You climaxed with a cry, clutching the back of his hair as he eagerly consumed every drop of your orgasm. The cherry on top was a gentle peck to your clit.
“Fucking hell,” he said, sitting back up and wiping a thumb across his wet lips. “That’s my pussy now, sweetheart.”
You know what? You weren't even going to argue against that statement. Your body still trembled, your legs spasming and toes curling even without his touch. Just seeing his imposing figure, his tongue swiping across his lips where your essence lingered, ignited a primal urge within you—no, a desperate need for him once more.
“Your answer,” you whispered, straightening out your legs for a break.
“I’m an entrepreneur.”
Your heart skipped at his answer. “Really? Do you have your own company?”
“Sort of. It’s a private business. My clients consist of politicians and men and women in powerful positions like your mother. I aid them with the process of maintaining their positions without any external hindrances.”
“That’s . . . ” And here you assumed he was modest. “. . . great.” Clearing your throat, you poised your next question. “Where do you live?”
“Right now, I’m thinking of moving here.” He gave your sore cunt a playful slap.
“Toji!”
That playful laugh made you blush, stifling a giggle. He was just too charming, and you were quickly becoming smitten.
“Take off your dress,” he instructed.
You complied, this time with confidence, slipping it over your head and tossing it aside as if it were worth twenty dollars instead of two hundred.
Toji admired the sight of you laid out before him, silently congratulating himself for reaching this point since he first laid eyes on you this morning. Part of him was frustrated at how easily it all unfolded, at your naivety in accepting a stranger's invitation. But he resolved to work on fortifying your defenses in the future. He had so much he wanted to teach you, to unleash the beautiful creature hidden within you. Oh, he was going to enjoy every moment with you.
Leaning over your body, Toji yanked down your bra, freeing your breasts from the confines. “Fuck me. Look at these gorgeous tits.” He gathered them in his palms and buried his face in between. “Oh, fuck. You smell so good, sweetheart.” He kissed each nipple, his coarse tongue making you rub your feet together. He sucked them into his mouth, moaning against your flesh, while holding your eyes. “Feels good, baby?”
“Yes,” you breathed, clutching his hair as he continued to lavish attention on your hardened nipples, tugging them between his teeth and watching your breasts sway with each movement. “Toji?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you touch me there again?”
“Your pussy?”
You sighed quietly, his bluntness not surprising you. “Yes.”
“Thought you'd never ask.” His fingers trailed down to your hip, tracing patterns while he nibbled on your nipples. Your attention was split, but mostly fixed on the gentle caress over your intimate area. His fingertips quickly found your clit and began to rub it firmly.
You sank into the softness of the sheets, unable to contain your moans. His touch was everywhere, igniting every sensitive spot on your body with his lips and hands. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he slid two fingers inside you, causing your chest to arch, pressing your breast closer to him.
Breaking away from your nipple, he started leaving a necklace of marks on your neck, each pinch of his teeth jolting you as your body jerked with his fingers driving in and out of you. His thumb abused your clit with quick circles, squelching sounds echoing in the room.
It took another minute before you were coming down again, slathering his fingers with your mess.
Toji spoke, but your pounding heartbeat drowned out his words.
“What?” you asked, squinting as if you'd had a bit too much to drink.
“Sundale Apartments. Unit 20. That's where I live.”
You struggled to focus, trying to absorb the information through your haze. “Cool,” you managed.
“Had enough?” he asked.
“No,” you replied, gripping his biceps. You realized his fingers were still caressing you intimately. “God, okay. Next question. Uh, do you have a fam—?”
“No.”
Suddenly alert, you snapped out of your daze. He withdrew his hand and placed it on your waist, as if steadying himself from your question. There was no hint of amusement in his expression. “Moving on. Have you ever been in a relationship before?”
“Why? You planning on playing house with me, sweetheart?”
You blushed and shook your head, even though in your mind, you envisioned cozy evenings, shared mugs, and Taco Tuesdays. You were a hopeless romantic at heart.
Toji fell to his side, laying straight. “Sit on my face.”
“Huh?” you replied, taken aback.
“I want seconds of my pussy.”
When you were too terrified to move, Toji pulled onto his chest. You straddled it, your previous orgasm absorbing into his t-shirt.
He gripped your ass and tugged you forward until you were inches from his chin. “Grab the headboard.”
You did and quickly sent a prayer that you’d survive. He told you to sit comfortably again, making you drag your folds from his chin to his mouth.
Toji had a firm hold on your ass in case you suffocated him. He took a deep whiff of your cunt, already tonguing the juices leaking like dew-drops from leaves. “What I wouldn’t do to wake up to this every morning.”
You stifled a giggle. “Does that mean you want to play home with me, Toji?”
“Want me to build it for us? I'm pretty good with my hands.” He left a sweet, small kiss to your sore clit, making you sigh.
Us.
For the next ten minutes, he pleasured you consistently, thrusting his tongue inside you, driving you to grind against his mouth. He slurped, lapped, sucked at your pussy like he’d just discovered an oasis in a never ending dessert. He’d slap at your ass if you tried to sit up to give him room to breathe, warning you to stay fucking put.
Your third climax left you limp like a ragdoll, your forehead colliding with the headboard as he cleaned you up. “I can’t do this anymore, Toji.”
Toji chuckled and gently tapped your back, signaling for you to move so he could sit up. “I’ve only ever fucked around. Never been the committed type.” His fingers trailed lightly across your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. “Think you can change me?”
“Godspeed to me.”
His laughter was infectious, and soon you found yourself joining in, your body relaxing against his. He caught you and pulled you onto his lap. “One last question. Choose wisely.”
You lifted your head from his shoulder and tenderly cupped his cheek. “Could you kiss me?”
The wickedness in his eyes softened to match the gentleness in yours. He tentatively licked his lips, lowering his head as though unsure of how to proceed. Mimicking his movement, you leaned in, gently pressing your lips against his.
Toji drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he observed your closed eyes intently. He had never kissed anyone before, especially not on the lips. It was a rule he had adhered to despite numerous sexual encounters. If women tried to initiate kissing, he would rebuff them and leave without further engagement. He wasn’t the romantic type at all, and kissing was a universally romantic gesture. He preferred a good, no-strings-attached fucking.
So how was it that you had already entangled him by simply existing?
You broke away first and pecked his scar. He looked so vulnerable, and you wondered how many other sides of him existed aside from the cocky display.
Toji lowered his eyes to your neck with several lovebites, some more on your tits, down to the stickiness between your legs. He had also disheveled your lipstick, your hair, and you.
“Can I ask another question?” you whispered.
He doubted you had the stamina for another orgasm. If you did, he had thoroughly stretched you out to fuck you raw and long.
Toji nodded.
You smirked. “Do you have vodka and Diet Coke in your mini fridge?”
He kissed your jaw. “And a bathtub that’s conveniently filled with warm water.”
You didn't need much persuasion to join Toji in the tub. With him behind you, his legs on either side, you quietly sipped a drink that smelled of cleaning chemicals, feeling somewhat intoxicated by the circles he traced on your belly. His cigarette smoke mingled with the steam. As he took slow drags, you felt his breath against your skin.
“Speak,” he said gruffly.
“Hmm?”
“Something’s on your mind.”
You shook your head, unwilling to divulge the daily criticisms you faced as the hotel heiress. Trusting anyone with your personal struggles was a risk, and Toji wasn't someone you trusted, at least not with your thoughts.
His hand grabbed your jaw and started moving it up and down. “‘Oh, Toji. I’m just thinking about your big, fat cock pressing against my back—’”
“Stop,” you said while laughing, pushing his hand away. You were not not thinking about his big, fat friend poking your marrow. “Can’t a girl sit in silence with her thoughts?”
“It’s pissing me the fuck off.”
“Why?”
Toji let out a sigh as he seized your drink from your grasp. Downing it swiftly, he placed the empty glass on the floor, tossing his used dart inside, like he had at the bar. “Got any more questions or something?”
You looked up and met his piercing green eyes. He gently placed his hand on your neck and squeezed lightly. “I had a rough morning.” His hand lowered down to your chest and settled on your stomach again. “My father and I had another disagreement, and I can't stop replaying our conversation in my head. Today, I just feel more worthless than usual.”
So much for not trusting Toji.
“You’re not worthless, doll,” he assured you with a certainty that felt like it came from years of knowing you. “It’s the fuckers around you that make you feel that way. You won’t know your worth until you free yourself from those bastards.”
“Don’t disrespect my father, Toji. You don’t know—”
“Any father who makes his daughter feel worthless is a bastard to me. Understand?” He removed his hand and started shifting back, causing you to unglue yourself from his chest.
In all his naked glory, he stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel to wrap around his hips.
“Where are you going?” you asked, ignoring the flashes of his erection just moments ago.
Nonchalantly, he replied, “To kill your father.”
You almost threw up an organ exclaiming, “What?”
He started chuckling at his sadistic, repulsive joke. Examining the scars on his back, the tattoo-covered sleeves on both arms, and the hollow, mocking gleam in his eyes as he looked down at you, his shadow looming over you, made you question your safety. “Do I scare you, doll?”
“No,” you whispered, your eyelashes fluttering as if they couldn't bear to keep staring at him.
“I don’t like liars.” He placed one foot on the edge of the tub and leaned down, taking your chin and lifting it up. “Do I scare you?”
“Right now, yes.”
“Why are your nipples so hard?”
You glanced down and covered your chest. “It’s cold.” Even if the water and the atmosphere was heated enough for sweat to break out on your forehead.
“Didn't I make my perspective on liars clear enough?” His thumb traced over your lips where falsehoods hid. Instead of asking more questions, he pressed his thumb into your mouth, grunting at the warmth of your tongue.
“What are you do—”
“Suck it.”
Your skin prickled as his thumb stayed motionless on your tongue, your lips enveloping his roughened flesh. With deliberate slowness, he began moving his digit in and out of your mouth, and you complied with his silent demand.
You sucked on his thumb, careful not to scrape your teeth against his skin. A deep grunt escaped him as you choked slightly on how deeply he penetrated. What thoughts were swirling in his mind? Why did you want him to bring his dirty fantasies to life? What was it about him that sent a delicious dose of fright down your spine?
“On your knees,” he commanded.
You knelt before him as he withdrew his thumb, his hand encircling your neck. Leaning in, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, engulfing your skilled tongue with his own. Your arms instinctively wound around his neck as he effortlessly lifted you from the water, carrying you bridal style and placing your bare ass on the cold counter. Your legs entwined around his hips, lips locked together as he continued to explore the depths of your mouth.
Breaking the kiss, Toji spun on his heel, grabbing a fresh towel.
“Dry yourself then get dressed. You don’t want that bastard to interrogate you. I want you gone when I’m back.”
You scoffed. What the actual fuck? One minute he’s counting your orgasms, taking a warm bath with you, shoving his damn thumb in your mouth then following up with a kiss of a lifetime, and now he’s gone cold.
Toji gave you a once-over, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, before exiting the bathroom.
You slumped back against the mirror. “What the fuck did you do, Y/N?”
#zaraswriting#jjk x y/n#toji smut#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jjk toji x reader#jjk toji smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw smut#tw sex mention#fem reader#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jujutsu toji#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen
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SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [6]
description: the ONE where you help him grieve another woman + the ONE with the promise
length: 8.04k
warnings: maeves death. grief. Spencer is a sad bby. HOWEVER maybe perhaps some fluff? healing journey! gun, blood, usual cm warnings.
author's note. HERE YOU GO POOKIES. I hope you enjoy now I've put you all out of your misery.
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'Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry,
aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?'
The one where you help him grieve another woman.
It killed her walking up those stairs every day. She knew the gift baskets were piling up, had already had a terse conversation with his neighbour about leaving ‘clutter’ in the hallway, to which she thinks she might have swung at the eighty year old woman if she didn’t think it would cause Spencer problems.
He had enough on his plate already. Maeve had died, for fuck sake.
In fact, she almost entirely blew her top when she made it to the top of the steps to see every single one of Garcia’s gift baskets had been moved, the bunches of tulips she’d brought him every other day over the past two weeks gone with little trace other than browning petals scattering his door mat. Even the cookies JJ had baked him, the card Henry had drawn for his uncle Spencer had been moved.
Bugsy stopped for a second, her head snapping to the door to the right where his neighbour, Miss Cavanaugh, had shuffled out of her apartment in her pink dressing gown, her grey, wispy curls flat against her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed.
She blinked at the younger girl through thick, bubble-like glasses, her blue eyes annoyed the minute she saw her standing there.
“You can’t just take people's things, you know, I don’t care if it got in the way of your daily walk, Miriam, those were for Spencer-” Bugsy started, her voice as calm as she could get it even though her scowl spoke for itself.
“I didn’t touch any of his crap, little lady,” Miriam raised her mottled hand, crooked fingers shushing the outrage Bug had been ready to bark at her, and the women sighed when they realised they might just have another argument like their last one, “Kid was poking around at like six in the morning taking it all in, nearly woke up my dog,”
Bugsy rolled her eyes, “God forbid,” Miriam flipped her the finger which made Bugsy’s jaw drop wide open, shuffling back into her apartment muttering to herself, her mail in her mangled hands, “Old bag,” Bug murmured to herself, but her eyes quickly locked back onto Spencer’s door.
He had been out. Well, he had been into his hallway, but it was something.
Her legs felt like jelly when she took hesitant steps towards his doorway, her knuckles gently rapping on the wood, a frog crawling into her throat that she tried clearing with a cough.
“Spencer?” Her voice was soft, melodic, and it made him wince where he sat against the other side of his entrance, his own hair a state of disarray, “It’s me,”
Of course he knew it was her. He didn’t think a day could ever go by where he wouldn’t know her by the sound of her steps alone. Like he’d grown a sixth sense for these sorts of things, like they were linked by some weird Spidey powers like in the comics she’d brought over to his apartment and begged him to read, because even though he could devour a million words a minute (her words not his) it was the art in it she loved and that forced him to slow down and enjoy the pages.
He wanted to tell her to go away, but he couldn’t find it in him to ever be so cruel, to dig himself a bigger trench of regret than he already felt. He couldn’t save Maeve, physically could never get the image of her dying from his ginormous, genius brain that held onto every detail, and on top of it, he knew he deserved none of the kindness Bugsy showered him with. He’d heard her come stand outside his door every single morning, heard her knocking with the same worried call of his name at the same time before breakfast. He heard her sigh after ten or so minutes and leave, her retreating footsteps clunking down the stairs sadly.
She was too good for him. He’d only solidified it that she was so beyond what he deserved, that he could never treat her the way she deserved to be treated, the same way he hadn’t with Maeve.
Spencer’s self loathing was a poison, slowly devouring him every time he heard her voice, felt her approach through the floorboards, when he’d seen the little notes she’d left on the books she’d dropped off outside his door. Usually they were her reviews on them, a list of pros and cons, her general musings, all things they would have chatted over a bagel if things had been normal between them. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together the way they had like clockwork since she joined the BAU. That was a lie. He could remember, of course he could, it had been four months, three weeks and five days ago, a Monday. He thinks she knocked around 10am. Something like that.
It was the day before she’d flown to London, actually. She had dropped the boys (the boys being Niko and Sergio) off to his apartment, thanked him a bunch of times for looking after them, given him five months worth of cat litter and kibbles and immediately unwrapped a to-go bag of their favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. He remembered it was close to October because she’d bought over maple buns and they only sold at the beginning of Autumn, and he’d asked if she’d be doing anything for Halloween seeing as their usual plans of a horror movie marathon were being put on pause while she was in England. She wasn’t, and she’d asked to call him instead so they could discuss their favourite trick or treating outfits they’d seen.
He’d promised her a call, only another case popped up by the time the thirty-first rolled around, and it had never happened.
Spencer hated how he was able to remember every detail of her face the day she’d left, the warmth of her hug he’d clung onto for months. He hated that day she’d surprised him and he hadn’t even thought to wrap his arms around her because he’d been so stuck feeling the overwhelming shock of seeing her. He hated that he’d made her frown like that, that she had ever doubted that he wanted to see her. But it had felt like he’d been caught cheating, why had it felt like cheating?
He knew why. He knew why seeing her when he was going out to call Maeve had felt like he was double-crossing her.
Not that it mattered anymore, he thought bitterly. Because Maeve was dead. And Bugsy had every right to hate him. But she didn’t. Because she was too good.
He hated himself more than he’d ever thought was possible.
He heard her sigh, but she didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she leave. Instead, he felt the door rattle behind his own spine as she slumped against the wood, sliding to the floor until she unknowingly leaned against him, little more than a few centimetres from his warmth.
He heard her pull out something from her bag, and the tell tale slip of paper over paper told him she’d brought a book with her, pre-empting staying longer this time. Spencer wanted to tell her not to bother, because if he got brave enough to open the door to her and see her face, smell her clothes, feel the softness of her hugs, he thinks if he told her every thought bouncing around that aching skull of his, it would all come crashing down around him, and he wouldn’t ever be able to stop telling her how sorry he was. For all of it. For letting her pull away from him when she was grieving. For letting her kiss him that night Derek brought her over, because it was obvious she wanted to forget the whole thing. For pushing her away when she came back from London. For being rude and cold when she wanted answers. For trying desperately to completely detach himself from her, which had only ever made him want to scream in frustration because it hadn’t worked anyway.
Maeve had died because of him, an innocent woman he’d seen himself falling for if they’d been given the chance had died, and he was still head over heels in terrible, stupid love with Bugsy.
They stayed there, her reading and him aching from the inside out, for about seven minutes before her phone rang. He heard her huff, letting it go to answer phone and settling back down with her novel. That is, until her dial tone sprung back to life and she half growled under her breath, assuming she pressed the answer button, and he heard her voice again.
“Hello?” She said, the slight annoyance bleeding into her words, and Spencer already knew that duty was calling by the way her book thumped to the floor and he could just picture her rubbing over her temple in frustration. “I have an appointment, Hotch, I can be there in a couple hours,” Silence, where he guessed Hotch was chiding her on her tardiness, “No, I know I’m supposed to book these things off- it’s just- it’s a contraceptive implant removal, yeah I really busted my IUD when I broke my arm, it’s not settled since,” Spencer almost smiled on instinct, almost, though he thought even if he did it would look like a bitter grimace because he’d not moved his face in over ten days. But she was a really good liar, and he’d always found that part of her charm. She huffed again, “God, you sound like Emily, yes I’m being safe- we are not having this conversation, Aaron, I’ll get there when I get there,”
With that, perhaps the only person who would ever be allowed to slam the phone down on Aaron Hotchner in a huff did, and they were left alone in silence again.
“You shouldn’t ignore their calls for my sake,” He found his voice, even if it was groggy with misuse. He felt her straighten against the wooden door, her shock palpable through the brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for just a second too long, as if she was scrambling not to say something else than what came out.
“Pot, meet kettle,” She murmured back, loud enough he could hear it, and she felt him shuffle behind the door, wanting to smack herself in the face for not feeling him there sooner.
“New case?” He asked, his eyes heavy, his pyjamas days old. He knew he needed to shower, but the minute he’d walked into his apartment everything had felt pointless.
“Yup.” She breathed in, her shoes brushing against his welcome mat with a scratch as she pulled her knees up to her chest, “Although I think Hotch will stick to Penelope making the calls after today,”
Something between a scoff and a sigh came from his throat, something she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.
“What is it?” He replied, and she remained quiet for a second, picking the skin around her nails.
“I’ll tell you if you open the door,” She bartered, wondering for a second if she’d gone too far and had pushed him back into the hole she was coaxing him out of.
“Blackmail,” Spencer said, all emotion gone from his voice, and Bugsy winced, “A little on the nose for someone who’s grieving,”
But she could sense it. The way his syllable raised on the last word, that he was being cynical, not cruel like she’d worried.
“Think of it as a trade deal,” She humoured him, though she kept her voice soft so he knew she meant no harm, just to cheer him up if it was even possible, “You get your answer, and I get to give you this incredibly boring book that I know you can devour in a half hour and give me the summarised version,”
He smiled. Weakly, and only for a brief few seconds, because if there was anything that warmed him up from the cold, dark, nothingness place he’d found himself in it was her.
He wished he could dislike the fact she did it so easily, wish he could dislike how simple it was to like her, to feel himself wanting her even in that nothingness place he was crawling through as a lone ranger. He wanted to pull her into him tightly, wanted to let her fuss over him, to apologise until his voice ran even more hoarse, but he couldn’t. He feared if he touched her, she’d be marked for death right then and then; that he’d taint her somehow. And that he could never do.
Yet, he bent to her will. He stood up, prompting her to do the same, leaving his door on the latch as he pulled it open a crack, enough for her to jimmy the book through, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy.
He had read Tolstoy before, of course he had. War and Peace was one of the first books he ever owned in Russian, ironically enough one that he’d read only a few days before they’d driven to Baltimore and he’d met Bugsy for the first time. Yet it was this one she’d given him of all of Tolstoy’s works; the one where the protagonist goes on a journey of acceptance that he’s dying with no explanation as to why.
He thought she might just be the only person who knew how to crawl into the mess of his brain and find something familiar in there. Because this was the same book he’d read when Emily had died.
He would never tell her he already owned it, however. Nor would he call her out for the fact she most certainly didn’t find it boring considering she was so far into it with annotations already scribbled in the margins. He just took it with a lump in his throat, his eyes burning with the idea she was so incredibly her that it felt like he had no option but to drown in it.
“Body’s been found in San Francisco,” She said gently, and he knew she wished he would open the door fully so she could at least see him. Yet he kept the door on the latch. Because if there wasn’t a barrier between them, he wasn’t sure how else he would keep it all in, “You get to know more when you finish the book,”
He sighed, holding the book tight to his chest, and they stood there for a second, the air turning stifling as they both held back a million words behind brave faces, “Will you be gone long?”
“No, only a few days, I hope,” She replied, zipping her bag up and slinging it on her back judging by the sounds coming from her side of the door. She hovered, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but wanting to stay here on his welcome mat because this was the closest they'd been physically and otherwise in months.
“Be safe,” He murmured, and her hand shot through the gap in the doorway, her pinky finger raised to the heavens.
“Promise,” Bugsy said, her heart jack hammering against her ribcage when a long, warm finger wrapped around hers, and they squeezed them together. It was just a little touch, but it was a start. She wished he would open the door so she could beg him to talk to her, even if it meant crawling to her knees, she wasn’t above it whatsoever.
Reluctantly, she let him go, though she noted the way he had held onto her until she did so.
“I have to go,” She said sadly, drawing her hand to her chest like she’d received a Midas touch, and her hand was suddenly valuable after gracing his own.
Her skin felt electric, her breaths felt laboured. She wanted more, but she couldn’t have it.
And with that, it took every ounce of resolve to turn on her heels and head back down to her car.
–
Bugsy stared at the artwork with a grimace, picking hard at her cuticles because the metallic smell was making her stomach turn. Their UnSub had taken to painting with his victims’ blood, canvasses upon canvasses of leeched ichor brushed out to make out an image of the bodies.
Her nose scrunched when another wave of hot, iron wafted up her nose, and she thought about asking Hotch if she could step outside for a moment, knowing he likely wouldn’t question her perhaps ever again after their little phone call.
“What other reasons would he have for separating plasma from the blood?” Hotch asked, and her brow furrowed, her mouth opening to speak before another voice cut her off.
“It’s a habit,”
She swore she gave herself whiplash with how fast her head snapped to the side. She would know his voice anywhere. It sounded lost and desolate, yes, but her eyes swirled with relief when she saw him standing there, looking skittish and tired but alive.
“Reid,” Morgan breathed, the same level of surprise she felt as JJ darted towards him, her arms wrapping around his middle before he could protest.
“Spence,” She said, and they hugged one another tightly, his eyes following over Jennifer’s shoulder to where Bugsy seemed to watch him unsurely, like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, how to make it better, how to fix it. A girl who had always been so sure of herself now reduced to pining from afar for answers.
“I didn’t expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?” Hotch asked, an almost identical look of hesitance on his face as Bugsy had on hers, and it was no wonder half of the department said they were two sides of the same coin.
“No but I think I figured something out,” He breathed, moving out of JJ’s embrace towards the boards where the victim profiles were, and he began speaking in that slow, cold tone he’d taken on.
Spencer, to no one's surprise, was able to all but fit their disjointed puzzle pieces together in the space of an hour's flight, and with just a few pointers in Garcia’s direction, they’d got their UnSub.
“And bingo was his name-o, actually his name is Bryan Hughes, he is an AB positive haemophiliac who works as a janitor at the Bay Area Museum of Art. And before you ask, yes his address has been sent to your phones.” Penelope rushed, pinging the information to their phones just as fast as it had appeared on her screen.
“You’re the best baby girl,” Morgan said into the speaker, hanging up the phone as the team stood from their place at the desk, Hotch assigning them tasks as everyone strapped on their kevlars and guns.
She held back for a moment, her eyes assessing him like man approaching a wounded wolf.
“I’m okay-” He was about to say, because he knew what she was going to ask before she thought to do it, except she simply nodded at him, turning on her heel to follow the others, despite him expecting something more Bugsy-like.
It wasn’t like her to leave him without some final word, some final stand, and he was right. Because no sooner had she gotten all of three paces, she whirled back around, heading back towards him with a timid expression, and she all but launched herself into his arms.
He held her tight, the warmth of her body making his eyes well up, because if there was anything that could have made him crack his resolve, it was her touch alone.
She carded her fingrs through his hair, tucking her face into his neck and breathing in deeply.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” She murmured, stopping herself from saying anymore as she released him, well aware of the fact he had tried squeezing her tighter before she’d had to let him go, like he hadn’t wanted her to go. But neither did she.
“Stay safe,” He said on instinct, and she nodded, her eyes trailing over his empty eyes and sallow skin.
She wanted to kiss away every trace of sadness there, but she couldn’t. Wanted to wrap him into a hug so tight she might just stop breathing, but it would have been worth it. Wanted to tuck him into bed and stroke his hair and feed him tea and chocolate and make sure he was kept well, because she’d do anything to make him better.
But she couldn’t. They had a case.
It took every scrap of resolve to let go of Spencer Reid, sheepish and mourning, and leave him in that room alone.
–
She sighed, scrubbing at the back of her hand with the shitty aeroplane soap they had on the jet, the tiny basin doing nothing to help the fact she was all but peeling off the top layer of her epidermis.
Catching Bryan had been messy; he had come at her with a scalpel, she had shot, his blood had sprayed over her arms, soaking right through. Spencer had all but gone white when she’d gotten to the runway, hoping to make it back to Quantico by midnight.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He fretted, despite the fact it was the closest he'd come in weeks to an emotion that wasn't sadness, and he stood little more than a few centimetres away, his fingers twined together, wanting to check her over himself.
She waved him off, “It’s not mine. I’m going to wash up on the plane, don’t worry,” She replied, her expression exhausted, twitching on the spot to stop herself pushing his hair behind his ear. She knew he’d washed it because it looked particularly fluffy, the way it always did when he hadn’t bothered to style it before he left the house, “Are you okay?”
He nodded wordlessly, and took her mini suitcase from her side, wheeling it along the tarmac for her, his face a worried scowl as they boarded the jet.
She thanked him as she stepped past him putting it in the overhead luggage, heading straight for the toilets to wash up, Morgan and JJ ducking out of the way when they saw Carrie 2.0 passing by them.
It wasn’t until they were already in the air did she emerge, her change of clothes on her skin that had been rubbed raw, her uniform in a biohazard bag that she swiftly dumped at the back of the jet to keep it out of sight. She threw herself down on the nearest seat, her entire body aching from the long few days, but she didn’t miss the hazel eyes that bore into the side of her head to her right.
She turned to meet their gaze, even though she already knew who it was before she’d even looked. Spencer looked like he was caught between about five different sentences to start with, his eyes trailing down her arms and to her hands that were now squeaky clean.
“You sure you’re okay?” He murmured, and she flipped her palms over for him to see for himself. No cuts. No abrasions. Except her usually marred cuticles she’d been picking at all day.
“Pinkie promised, didn’t I?” She teased, but no humour met his face. He just looked back at her, like he didn’t quite believe her still, like she was a ghost where his best friend should be sat, or a trick of the light. She turned her knees towards him, her sleepy eyes buttery and genuine, as if she was trying to make herself as relaxed as possible, just so he would stop worrying, “Spencer, I’m fine. Didn’t even knick me,”
He stayed quiet for a moment, looking down to his satchel bag where he played with the buckle, the brown leather cold in between his fingers, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird and distant and ignoring you- I just…”
“Spencer,” She tried to interject with a honeyed voice, but he shook his head, a crease forming between his brows when he heard her say his name like that.
“I just worry I’m letting everyone down, but when I saw you covered in blood-” He gulped, willing his eyes not to burn up again with unshed tears.
“Spence, it’s okay,” She cooed, shuffling closer to him in her seat, her hand migrating to his knee, because she didn’t know if he’d want to touch her after she’d had someone else's blood all over her hand. She liked her chances, yet the last thing she wanted was to push him. “No one’s expecting you to go back to normal, I just want to know you’re safe. I owe you as much, I mean you looked after me when Emily was gone,”
“You don’t owe me anything, Bug,” He shook his head again, his brows furrowing and she was quick to correct herself, “Besides, I loved living with you,” He rested his palm over her hand and gave her what he hoped looked like a small smile.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Spence,” She said, flipping her hand over to squeeze his fingers gently, “Did you not think I loved living with you too? I just want to take care of you for me,”
He looked at her, her eyes hopeful as she roved over his clean clothes, his freshly washed hair, his satchel he’d kept tight in his lap, as if checking him over for bruises despite the fact he hadn’t been in the field. The crushing weight over his chest like a fallen log seemed to shift, and with it, her hand soothed the wound, her smile dried his eyes, her warmth engulfed his very core in a blanket.
Spencer knew he was going to be okay if it was him and her. He knew the world was livable again if she was fighting in his corner. But then, when hadn’t she been?
Sensing his ease in attitude, or perhaps she just knew his eyes so well to notice the way they seemed to carry less burden as soon as she’d spoken, she leaned back in her seat, “Besides, the boys miss you. They said you gave them more treats than I do and Niko appreciated you brushing his fur for him,”
He smiled over at her bashfully, his head dropping down to lean on her shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his head.
“Well, if the boys miss me, I guess I have no choice,” He murmured, his eyes heavy the second he rested against her, like she’d sprayed a sedative over him, and he couldn’t help think that her new perfume wasn’t nearly as them as her old one had been. Not that he disliked this one, just that the other one reminded him of morning breakfasts, and movie marathons, and nights when they would bake apple cake at twelve in the morning because she made it how he liked it to a tea.
She chuckled, and it sounded like a hum in his ear, as he curled up to her side, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land and I’ll drive us home,”
And it didn’t take much for him to do so, even if something had been right on the tip of his tongue; his apartment had only felt like home when she said it like that.
+1. The one with the promise.
He’d had that dream again.
It had been four months since Maeve died, but he’s had that dream again.
He’d start out in a restaurant, the walls lined top to toe with books, the chandelier the perfect amount of dust that it had character but not tackiness. A waiter would bring him over a menu and an iced tea, his favourite. He’d go to look up to ask why he’d been sat at a restaurant he had no recollection of getting to, and he’d see her staring back at him.
Maeve. Looking healthy and happy, like he hadn’t watched her brains sprayed across that warehouse floor.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” She would say, a glass of some kind of white wine swirling in her hand, her teeth straight and white and pretty when she smiled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you,” He’d say, though he couldn’t feel his mouth moving, he just knew it had come from him. “Where are we?”
“You promised me a date, so this is it,” Maeve said, a glint in her blue eyes, “First and the last. Let’s make it count,”
His heart would give a jump then, because he’d remember this was the only time he’d ever get to see her. He’d remember that she was dead, that he had never seen her in person like this until the day she’d died.
He’d open his mouth to apologise, to beg for an explanation or forgiveness, whichever one he thought was more pressing, and then the door would swing open.
And Bugsy would walk in.
Donned in the same bluebell dress she’d worn at JJ’s wedding, only her arm wasn’t broken. And she’d walk right up to him, that smile on her face that said she was excited to see him.
And Maeve would look at her, and instead of scowling or sneering like a woman soaking in jealousy would, they would look at one another and grin like they’d known each other decades.
“Car’s out front when you guys are done,” Bugsy would chirp, her eyes warm when she looked down at the dead woman, satiated in genuine happiness to see her, “Don’t keep him too long,”
“One dance, Agent Prentiss, and he’s all yours,” Maeve would reply with a giggle, her brunette locks falling like a waterfall over her shoulder when she’d stand, offering a hand to him to sweep him onto the dancefloor, “You coming, Spencer?”
And his eyes would snap open, returning him back to the horrible reality of his darkened bedroom, his apartment silent other than the sound of Bugsy tossing in the spare room, the way she did when she got too warm in her sleep, and he threw his legs out of bed to go get her some cold water.
But the dream never left him. The same one he’d had for months, since she’d moved in with him to take care of him, make sure he was eating and keeping as happy as he could be.
The sight of her in that blue dress, waiting for him to finish his dance haunted him almost as much as Maeve did.
–
“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been sleeping?” She asked, cornering him in the kitchen once they’d both dropped their go bags in their room and he’d jumped for the kettle to make them both coffee.
He blanked, the mug nearly slipping from his grasp as he plonked it down on the counter in front of her, “Why would you think-”
“Spencer,” She said as a warning, her lip quirking between her teeth as she gnawed at it worriedly.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” He confessed too quickly, scratching the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous, “I know you worry about me, especially right now, and when you worry, you don’t sleep, and I just thought what’s the point in both of us running on nothing,”
She huffed, and he shuffled around the island to meet her where she stood by the bar stools, looking like she wanted to be cross with him but she couldn’t find it in herself.
“You should have told me, I could have stroked your back the way you liked, or, I don’t know,” She shrugged, looking anywhere but his guilty looking hues, “Smuggled night nurse in your tea,”
“Drugs. Cause that’s way better than my thing,” He teased, and she snickered, and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t really mad at him. He hated lying to her, he’d just wanted to keep his odd dream to himself until he could make sense of it, “Did Dave tell you anything else?”
She shook her head, and he knew she was telling the truth because she seemed to immediately be the one assessing him for anything else she should have been told much sooner.
“Is your head okay?” She asked, putting a gentle hand to his forehead to check for migraine heat, “I know they get worse when you don’t sleep-”
“My head’s fine, Bug,” Spencer replied, grabbing her hand with his long fingertips, pulling them from his face to squeeze at her side with a warming smile, “Promise. I’ll tell you if it gets bad,”
She watched him sceptically for a moment before she leaned over to grab her coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing in delight when it tasted perfect, “I love your memory, did I ever tell you that?”
He chuckled, dodging a rogue Niko that bobbed between his feet because it was almost dinner time for the two miscreants, moving back over to the sink to tidy the granules of sugar he’d spilled, “Many times. But I’d remember your coffee even if I had a normal brain,”
“Humble as always,” She remarked, smiling devilishly when he shot her a glare over his shoulder. It was then that Sergio jumped up onto the counter, the way Spencer had tried scolding him for a million times because of the germs, only for the onyx black cat to flick his tail in his face as if to flip him a middle finger, yowling in the man’s face for his usual dinner of kibble and water.
“Alright, alright,” Spencer sighed, reaching into the cabinet to grab their food, two fluffy bodies immediately weaving in between his long legs with mews and head bumps, because those boys knew how to wrap him around their little finger, “You ought to start being nice to me, boys. One day it’ll probably just be me and you guys, and then you can’t just bat your tails at me like you do your mom-”
“I know I’m turning twenty eight but I still got a few years left kicking, Spence,” Bugsy protested, her brows furrowing when she heard his murmurs, which she hadn’t found entirely odd since he always spoke to the boys when he fed them, except this time it had made her draw back in confusion, “Where am I in this hypothetical bachelor pad you got going on?”
“You’ll be with whatever guy is lucky enough to talk his way into dating you, maybe engaged, maybe married,” He said like it was nothing, despite the fact he’d been thinking about that exact scenario for months. Since Penelope had mentioned just how good British men were in bed, in fact. Because he felt both sick and curious as to whatever it had been that had come out of her mouth in return, “And I’ll look after the boys while the two of you move on, because you’ll feel sorry for taking my only friends away from me when you leave, and I’ll be forced to become a lonely, old cat man,”
“That’s not true,” She said, her face warming when he chuckled cynically, running a hand through his hair, “Spence, you can’t actually believe that?”
“Yes it is, Bugsy, you don’t need to try and make me feel better,” He brushed her off, wiping his knuckles over heavy eyelids, “You and I both like facts, right? It’s a quantifiable fact that zero women except Maeve have ever fallen in love with me in thirty years. Even if we call it twelve years to remove the factor of less meaningful relationships developing before adulthood, that means I’ll be forty two by the time I next get a shot, at which point I’ll be too old and washed up for anyone to find me attractive. Let’s face it, no one is ever going to love me like that again,”
“That’s not true,” She repeated, her chest hammering, her face scrunched into a scowl, “You’re wrong. Quantifiably wrong.”
“You have no data to back that statement up, Bug,” He replied with a dark snicker, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the idea of her engaged to some other bonehead that had made him so crass, “Can’t make a conclusion without drawing on your evidence, to which you have none,”
“Yes, I do, asshole. I know for a fact that someone is in love with you,” She snapped, and it was like a bolt of lightning had cut through their conversation, blowing up in her face, her entire body freezing the second the words had left her mouth.
She looked at him, her eyes panicked, and all teasing had dropped out of his expression, leaving something confused, “Bug-”
“I don’t know why I said that,” She cut him off, jumping into action and avoiding his burning gaze. But he was fast, and he was pushing off the counter just as quickly as her.
“Bugsy, what do you mean? I don’t understand,” He persisted, darting only a pace behind her when she moved towards the living room to grab her cardigan off the back of the sofa.
She shook her head, “Ignore that, it doesn’t matter,”
“No, what did you mean by that?” Spencer asked, his voice tense because he had never seen her cower away from him like that, her body moving entirely into a state of flight. She shook her head, snatching the white fabric in her fingers and spinning on her heel to head for the doorway. But there he was, blocking her escape, his impossibly tall body stopping her right in her tracks, and she didn’t need to look up to know he had that special Spencer brand of Puppy Eyes.
“I’m going to the store-”
“Bugsy,”
“It doesn’t matter, Spence, just leave it,” She said shakily, trying to duck around him only for him to dodge to the left and stop her advance, “Spence, leave it, please,”
“What did you mean? Just tell me,” He begged, his cadence wary, the sound of it flushing her entire chest with a heat she’d never known. She swore she was going into cardiac arrest, her heartbeat was in her throat, and it made it difficult to swallow, let alone push him away, “Do you know something?”
Her breaths were deep, begging her chest to behave as it damn near spun her vision into dizziness. He was just a man. He was just a boy. How could he have so much control over her entire body when he had barely even touched her? When he had just asked her one tiny little question?
It was unethical, how her stomach rippled with butterflies the second she dared to look at his hazel eyes, round and intense where they never left her face. It should have been illegal for begging to look so good on him.
She took a sigh, shaking her head and looking back to his mismatched socks, chuckling bitterly, and putting her head in her hands. She couldn’t escape from this, her only defence mechanism was to curl into herself like an armadillo against a predator, her attacker being the god's honest truth that he was owed years ago.
“I really,” She cleared her throat, her eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, “I really messed things up with you,”
“What?” Spencer’s hot hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could hear her every word clearly, “I thought we were okay now, I thought we were friends again,”
She laughed emptily, her bottom lip quivering, her hands shaking under his touch. He was so warm, he always had been, but it felt as if he was everywhere when he was only really touching the skin of her pulsepoint. She hoped he couldn’t feel just how it beat for him, beat so loud and fast all for him.
“That’s the problem,” She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting his as she gave an unsure breath, gulping loudly. It was like he stared right at her soul, and pleaded it to speak to him. And she had never been able to say no to him, not when he looked like that, “When I came back from London, I came back to tell you that…”
She breathed again, because she felt like she was holding it while she confessed, she knew it was no wonder she felt so dizzy, but she couldn’t look away from him, where his face was morphing into realisation.
“I came to tell you that.. I-I’m in love with you, Spencer,” A single tear dribbled down her cheek, but he let go of her hands quickly to catch it, his lips pressing together in a silenced word, most like ‘oh’. His brows quirked above his nose, his eyes turning into devastation as soon as she’d said it. But it was out there now, so there was no use in trying to keep it in anymore. “I have been, for a while I think, and I wanted to tell you because I thought you might-might-” She gulped, the finger that had brushed the first tear stroking down until it rested under her jaw, the feeling of it damn near making her whine, “I don’t know, I just hoped you would feel anything back- but you don’t have to say anything, I know you’re hurting and so I just kept it in, but every time I see you I feel like I’m choking and I don’t know how to make it stop-”
“Tell me you’re lying,” Spencer said with a biting tone, his eyes honey comb gold and glistening when he looked at her. It couldn’t be true. He never got this lucky. It couldn’t be, he refused-
She shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading and wet, “Never, Spencer. I would never lie to you. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you- I know you’re hurting, I know you’re grieving and I shouldn’t have assumed-“
“I love you too,” He whispered, and it was like her words came to fruition as her voice was robbed, the air leaving her lungs. Her jaw dropped, her wet eyes boring into his chest, his hands skirting up to hold her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her tear ladened skin, “God, Bug, I’ve loved you for so long, I thought you didn’t want anything like that after that kiss-”
Her expression dropped, eyebrows scrunching together, “What kiss?”
He blanked, for once speechless. Only the kiss he’d torn himself to pieces over for weeks and weeks. “The night- that Derek brought you over when you’d had…” He trailed off, wanting to throttle himself for how dumb he’d been in retrospect, “When you’d had the Molly,”
Her hand slapped over her mouth, his own hands flying to palm at his eyes, because how could he be so incredibly stupid. Ecstasy was a memory suppressant. He knew, he knew better than most, that taking recreational drugs like that robbed you of even the most life shattering moments.
She didn’t remember. How could she? She was so out of it she could barely walk without stumbling over a flat surface. And instead of asking her, instead of simply growing a pair and seeing what she remembered, he’d gotten a girlfriend.
This was all wrong. This was so wrong. The guilt from Maeve dying was a wound that had cut him deep, and yet having Bugsy in his arms so placid and warm and adoring was a salve he had never dreamed would feel so numbing.
“We kissed?” She asked, her eyes blazing with embarrassment, her hand running through her hair in shock horror, “I don’t- how don’t I remember that- that’s all I dreamed of for months-”
“Technically you kissed me,” He explained, despite the fact his cheeks had set on fire hearing her confess even the smallest bit more to him. She loved him. She was in love with him. She had been for months, she said. She loved him. “It would have been wrong if I did anything even if it was all I’d thought of too. And I just thought, because you never mentioned it, that you didn’t want to remember it at all,”
He felt like he’d taken some sort of truth serum, like he should shut himself up any second now because he was spilling his longest kept secret to the one person who should have never been privy to it. But it was okay if she knew. Because she loved him.
She looked at him, and he swore he’d never seen eyes so beautiful, but then he’d always loved her eyes. But the way they looked at him, as if he’d had a bag pulled from over his head, or his glasses had been given the correct prescription, because it was like he suddenly saw just how adoring she looked when she watched him like that.
And despite herself, she laughed.
It was girlish, and carefree, and happy. So, so happy. And he started laughing too. She fell into his chest, her face hot with embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her giggling into his shirt, shaking her head.
“We’re so fucking stupid,” She said, and it was mumbled, and the sound of it made him smile wider.
“I’m a stupid, stupid man. I’m so sorry, Bug,” He replied, his large hand stroking down the back of her hair though a sour taste crawled up his throat.
He still owed Maeve that dance. Just as he’d told Rossi. Who had told Bugsy, because he knew she had some magic way of getting her way with everyone.
She pulled away, her eyes young and so incredibly pretty when she smiled at him like that. Sensing his hesitation, she tried to pull away from his embrace, worried like it was second nature to her by now that she’d overstepped. Only he didn’t let her. He kept his hand at the back of her head, one under her arm to pin her close to his body, because he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let her go twice.
“You said you tried to tell me when you got back from London?” He said softly, and she nodded, like her confession had taken everything out of her, “But then when you got here… I was with Maeve,”
She swallowed, worried where he was going, and nodded again wordlessly.
He chewed the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath for courage, “I’m still- I feel terrible if-”
“You can still grieve, Spencer,” She cut him off, knowing what he was struggling to say, and his eyes crawled back up to meet her gaze, “It’s not heinous to need time to think, I know it’s a lot to ask, I never expected you to-”
He cut her off with a kiss to the apple of her cheek, warm and angelic, the feeling of it forcing her mouth shut, because she worried she might just whimper in delight if she didn’t. Her hand flew up to his forearm that moved around to cup neatly under her ear, his fingers weaving into her hair as he kissed again down near her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut. And when she thought it was done, when she thought her luck was spent, he kissed her again, on the cusp of her lips, a ghost breath slipping from a parted mouth, because she thought she might have just died and gone to heaven.
“Bugsy, I love you,” Spencer said, and her heart felt full, so full her eyes welled up all over again because it was everything she had ever wanted, “I just need a little time,”
Her eyelids flicked open, and the bliss written over her face took a knock, her head reeling back like he’d burned her. But, as before, he didn’t let her go, He refused to let her run away again. Not when he had everything he wanted, “That’s not a ‘no’. It’s just a very stupid man who has loved you for longer than you’d know hoping on everything that you’ll be willing to give me a month or two. I want to do this right, you deserve to have this done right, and I want to give you only the best version of myself,”
Spencer’s heart pounded against his slender ribcage as he waited for her response, because he knew he was pushing his luck. But he’d meant every word of it, and he figured if he had any chance at being the guy he’d always told himself she needed, he’d need to be honest with her. They’d need to be honest with each other.
But she smiled at him, sweet and besotted beneath his palm, and he didn’t know why he’d ever doubted her.
“I waited six years, what’s a few months on top of that?” She smirked, her face glowing when he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, and he felt how hot her blood ran under his touch. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his did the same.
“I promise. Just a few more months, bug,”
And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer meant it. He wouldn’t let her go ever again.
--
TAGLIST:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches s @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#matthew grey gubler x reader
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English is not my first language, so I hope I can speak it correctly. I imagined a story where the shy!reader has hot dreams about Miguel, and for some "reason" (Lyla), Miguel finds out and decides to tease the reader until everything ends in an NSFW way. I hope I have given you the idea within the appropriate terms.
Hehehe, no worries my friend. I know just what to write.
Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, teasing, slow sex, masturbation, fingering, wet dreams, overstimulation
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This obsession you were having with one of your co-workers was getting out of hand. You knew it was a long shot that you could ever have a chance with the one and only, Miguel O'hara, but you couldn't stop dreaming about him.
Miguel O'hara was the smartest man in Alchemax. He was in charge of nearly everything that had to do with genetics. Every woman wanted to be his, hell, even men wanted a piece of that hot ass.
You? You were part of ordering team. It was a blessing and a curse, mainly because you got to talk with Miguel a lot more than others. You had to get with him to see what materials he needed. You loved it, but also hated it.
Why?
Because each time you talked to Miguel helped you dream of him fucking you raw. His hands pinning your head down against your pillow as he plows you from behind. The thought of his dick filling you again and again made your pussy throb.
His husky voice whispering in your ear, asking you who you belonged too. His balls emptying out inside your womb, coating your walls white.
Drool nearly rolled down your lips as your fingers rested gently against your throbbing bud. Oh, how Miguel O'Hara made your mind wander to the dirtiest parts. It was difficult because you knew something as glorious as that could never happen.
When you got home, you had nothing better to do than record your thoughts. Unlike the past where people wrote in a diary, the year 2099 made things easier. You summoned your AI and set it to recording mode, ready to talk about your wildest fantasies.
"Ah, and when Miguel's hand grazed mind when he handed me the list...mhm...I couldn't help but think how those fingers would feel inside me. Why does he have to be so hot? I can't mutter a word to him about anything other than work!"
You whined and cried as you let your frustrations out in your virtual diary. It wasn't fair. You wanted Miguel to notice you as a woman. You wanted him to ask you out. To make you his.
But who knows whenever that will happen.
---------
Miguel was stuck in his lab, working on some late projects before calling it a night. As he worked, he recalled you. Smiling at how shy you were, Miguel leaned back in his seat. Out of all the girls who fawned over him, Miguel enjoyed you the most.
The way your cheeks turned bright red whenever he spoke was adorable. How you doze off and let your mind wander only made Miguel curious. What could you be thinking of when he was standing before you?
"Lyla, could you find a way to contact (Y/N)? I want to add something to the list." Miguel demanded.
"Hmm," Lyla appeared and started to work, "Oh, looks like she is in recording mode with her AI. Let me patch us in-"
"Ly'a, don't! That's her-"
"Hah, ah~ M-Miguel..."
Miguel froze as Lyla hacked into your recording AI. His eyes widen and cock harden as you laid on your bed, fingered working furiously against your clit. Your body arching as you whimpered moans and cries of his name.
"Ah~ R-Right there....mhm~ h-harder M-Miguel...f-fill me up~!" You cried out before reaching your orgasm.
Miguel shuddered in awe as he watched your pussy spasm and clench to air. Your breathing heavy as you laid down to rest. You took a moment to sit up, whining softly before complaining that you needed to stop thinking about Miguel since he could never be yours.
Oh how wrong you were.
Miguel had Lyla turn everything off. He logged out and hurried out of Alchemax. How could he work when there was a beauty such as yourself desperate for his dick? Miguel had been wanting to make you his since the moment you spoke to him.
Hopefully you were ready for him.
----------
You laid on your bed, sniffing your thoughts away. Your recording ended much differently than you would like. Luckily it was your own personal diary, but you still should probably delete it in case something ever happens.
Upon hearing a knock at your door, you scurried to grab a robe. Who could it be at this late hour? Poking through your door peep hole, you gasped as Miguel stood in front of your door. Hurrying to open, you nearly forget about your exposed self,
"M-Miguel?! W-What....What are you doing here?" You asked with a squeak.
"Sorry-" Miguel glanced down at you, "I, um...came here without thinking."
"Oh...Well..." You could feel your heart racing a mile a minute, "W-Why don't you come in...let me get you some water."
---------
How could you be so carefree? There you were, in nothing but a robe, after just fucking yourself to him. If Miguel didn't have his spider powers this might have been a different scene playing out. Oh, the temptation to pin you against the counter and fuck you stupid.
"Actually...I need to confess something to you."
Miguel needed to control himself. Perhaps he could tease you a bit about what he saw. Perhaps he could make this a bit more natural and playful.
"Lyla-My AI, may have accidently showed me something that is confidential for you." Miguel said as he cleared his throat. The blood had drained from your face,
"L-Like?!"
"Like," Miguel smiled as he hovered over your trembling body, "You crying out so sweetly."
"Ah!" You covered your face as it turned bright red. Miguel leaned down, chuckling lowly,
"Who would have thought those hands of yours could move so fast?"
"M-Miguel-"
"I couldn't help but feel awful for putting you in such a....position," Miguel nibbled against your ear, hearing you whine, "Such a quiet girl making those noises...how naughty."
-------
You could feel your head spinning as Miguel pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body engulfing yours as his voice whispered against your ear. Everything about this scene was making you wet.
"How long have you been thinking about me?" Miguel chuckled as his hands circled around your waist,
"Mhm~ A long time," You admitted, feeling flustered by his teasing.
"Oh? Do you touch yourself like that every night?"
Your robe was starting to come undone as your body went on full display for Miguel. His head against your head, causing you to press your chest against his.
"Y-Yes," You stuttered.
"How naughty."
Miguel chuckled once more as he kissed your neck. Your robe had fallen on the floor and Miguel's hands were firmly on your waist. His leg pushed forward, causing your pussy to sit against it. You whimpered a whine as he kept pushing his leg against your wet cunt.
"What an honest body," Miguel hummed as his hands grouped your breasts, "And here I was about to ask if you want me to stop."
"No." You begged before tugging against his sleeve, "Please...Please fuck me."
-------
This was heaven on earth. Never had you thought this moment was ever going to happen.
However, you expected it a lot faster and rougher than this.
"A-Ah~ M-Miguel~~" You cried out.
Miguel was hovered over your naked body like a god. Your legs were thrown over his shoulder and his cock was deep inside you. Miguel's body was even more perfect than you ever dreamed of. His dick was far bigger than your wildest dreams.
"Hm? Don't like it slow?" Miguel chuckled lowly as he slowly pulled out with a grunt, "Your pussy is sucking me in so much. Thought I give it a nice treat."
"Hah~ s-so deep..." You whimpered as he pushed himself back in.
Miguel's slow movements was making your body heated. The tight knot in your stomach was far different from what you've ever done to yourself. His dick was kissing every part of your pussy you didn't even know existed.
"Awe, about to cum?" Miguel asked as you shivered from his slow thrust.
You wanted him to ravish you. You wanted him to make you see stars, not make you go crazy. Gasping as Miguel rubbed your clit, you cried as you gushed all over his cock. Your walls sucking him in more, begging for him to fill you.
Miguel could only chuckle as he kissed your body. His hands roaming everywhere as you calmed down from your high. Miguel pressed his hips closer, hitting you deeper than what he was prior. You flung your head back, moaning in pleasure.
"Is this everything you've ever dreamed of?" Miguel asked with a soft pant.
"Mhm~"
You were squirming slightly as Miguel continued his slow, yet deep thrusts inside you. Your vision was slightly blurry as your body started to shiver, but you could have sworn that Miguel was groaning. He wanted to go faster too.
"M-Miguel...y-you can...mhm~ go r-rough~" You cooed. Miguel licked your neck, biting against it softly,
"You better not regret it then."
Before you could say a word, you gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's pace became rough. His dick slamming into your gummy walls, making loud lewd sounds filled the room. Your juices soaking the bed sheets under you as he kept hitting that sweet spot you've gone nuts over.
Your moans became loud and pornographic as Miguel gave you no time to rest. You had cummed again, coating his cock white as he continued to ram into you. You body shaking and jolting with each thrust as your sensitivity grew.
"How lewd," Miguel groaned against your ear as his hips slapped into yours, "Don't know bout you, but I wouldn't mind getting used to this."
"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out.
Miguel chuckled as you started to arch your back. Your expression getting more expressive as you started to get fucked out. Biting his lower lip, Miguel grunted as he bottomed out inside of you. His eyes sparkled as your mouth made a cute 'o' form.
"Now, how could I stop with just one?"
You gasped, gripping onto the bedsheets as Miguel flipped you over. Your head pressed against the pillow as he went balls deep inside you. Your body shaking in rhythm to his rough thrusts as you enjoyed the feeling of his cum pouring inside you.
"Ah~ Mig~"
You were in heaven. All you could focus on was how good your pussy felt with each thrust. How good Miguel was at hitting each sweet spot you had. You shook in pleasure as you felt Miguel cum inside you again, groaning to your moans.
"(Y/N), next time you think of me....call me so I can show you how to feel good."
"Yesh~" You cooed.
-------
Miguel chuckled as you fell asleep after his last load. Honestly, he could keep going with his stamina, but you weren't ready for that yet. Carefully picking you up, Miguel made sure to wash you up and change your bedsheets before tucking you in.
He may have went a little overboard. But you didn't mind. Smiling as he covered you in the blanket, Miguel kissed your head before heading out.
"See you tomorrow, (Y/N)."
Of course, Miguel took your panties home as a souvinier.
You weren't the only one who had wet dreams.
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Hope you enjoyed!
#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel o'hara
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Hey :)
I just wanted to say truly how incredible your writing is. I find myself refreshing on tumblr desperately looking for a new story from you whilst I mindlessly rub myself away to all the dirty things on here because it just works like no other if I’m honest..
Also wanted to say thank you for seeming like a genuine person on top of all the sex-stuff, a lot of people abuse the space with this sorta stuff so it’s refreshing to see a double edged sword type thing I suppose.
Now I guess onto the reason I gathered the courage to ask (even though I’m still on anonymous…) I was wondering if you’d be up for letting me share my fantasy and if it sparked any inspo, if you’d be open to doing a request whenever you got the free time?
One of my biggest fantasies in the world is being kidnapped, raped and gaslighted, with heavy heavy tones of misogyny. Idk something about a sexually fuelled patriarchal society really does something to me :0 but unfortunately it’s kind of hard to communicate that desire to anyone at risk of it being taken completely the wrong way (oh the joys of having these kinks) and so I fear I’ll never really get to live out any variation of this fantasy with someone I trust
I just imagine being taken one day, because I’m just a girl and it’s a man’s right to take me if they choose. He takes me back to whatever secluded hole he’s got to keep me in, and it’s brutal and harsh at first - tied, bruised, etc etc. Then as the days, weeks, months go by I begin to develop Stockholm syndrome or I’m just plain old gaslighted into thinking this is all women are made for. Maybe he recorded me saying degrading things about myself in the first few days, which I said out of fear but you play them back for me and convince me that I meant them and you never asked me to say those things, it must just be truly who I am. Maybe he’d reward me when I gagged on his golf with the most simple thing like a stroke of my hair while he brutally fucked my face, but the small sign of affection (even when being used so aggressively) would be the gentle touch that I had been craving in the months he had kept me locked away. Besides the first time he raped me (so he could hold my pleasure during it as a tool against me), he would edge me from the very start, breaking me, making me crave the pleasure against everything screaming in my body saying not to. Taunting me by saying if I could cum just one more time, he’d let me go.. but of course he’d never let me. Teasing me by saying if I do as I’m told he’ll think about letting me get extra close to the edge that day, because at this point being allowed that would be the closest I would ever get. By the end of it my rewards would no longer benefit me, I’d be thankful when he said I could cockwarm him whilst he worked, or if he said I could be spend hours and hours worshipping his cock with my mouth, even when my jaw began to hurt. He’d only fuck me ass unless he wanted to edge me and get me close, or to breed me full of cum. If I ever took a misstep, like missing a single drop of cum after he came, I’d be punished. I’d be thankful to serve him, I’d learn to speak to him as my superior and all my pleasure would come from serving him. I could be completely rewritten and by the end of it he could let me go with no worry, and I’d be his forever..
ANYWAYS… ahem. I think I may have got carried away.
Even if you don’t write anything like this, honestly it was kind of fun just typing it out.
Other than that, I hope you are doing good!
From a very horny anon (who maybe recently has maybe weirdly started subconsciously picturing some imagined version you in this fantasy)
-🍒
Aww, this is such a cute message to receive (and as ever with these asks, I apologise for taking a century to respond).
I would love to steal some girl away from her home, snatching her up like she's property to be claimed. Snatching it up, like it's property to be claimed. She'd struggle at first, screaming and crying, violently thrashing against her ropes and threatening to call the police. What a silly little sex doll. The police wouldn't care about her. They'd probably stolen away their own little fleshlights.
I'd beat her of course. Stupid fucking rapetoys need it sometimes. They need to understand that they're nothing until I give them a purpose. I'd lock her in a dark room with no clock, no water, not a single sound to accompany her but the sounds of soft sobbing and heavy breathing. She'd mark the passing of days from my sharp footsteps as I'd come down to feed her. Beat her. Abuse her.
I'd speak to her sometimes, whispering degradation into her ears. Taking off her gag to encourage to degrade herself for me, if she wanted food. The only human contact she'd know would be intensely degrading. Every vile word of degradation she'd whisper about herself would earn her a pat on the head or kiss on the forehead. I'd reward her for breaking.
I would record every trembling word of hate she'd say about herself and rape her to the sounds of it. I'd spread apart her cunt on my cock and pound away at her, recording even that, raping her endlessly to our homemade porn. To our rape videos. She'd watch her own face become stained with tears. She'd hear the nasty things she'd hear about herself. She'd lose her mind. Did she truly want this? Did she really hate herself?
I'd reassure her that this was normal. That it's okay to hate yourself. That all she needed was me. I'd strap a vibrator against her clit and drill into her ass, jerking off inside her to the sounds of her intense degradation, to the her loud, screaming in those rape videos. I'd teach her to love the feeling. Then I'd leave her again. I wouldn't speak to her for days, silently feeding her. She'd have to choose between eternal silence or... something that made her feel alive. Something that made her feel like a woman. Something like a pathetic fucking rapemutt.
I'd choke her out, squeezing her tighter and telling her that I'd stop if she only just told me to. I'd stop if she degraded herself. I'd stop it if she just said anything. But my hand would stop her. I'd watch her become unconscious and limp every time, and wake her up to my cock raping her ass violently and my palm slapping her sharply. I'd only use her cunt to reward her. To train her into loving my cock stirring up her insides in a way that didn't leave her screaming.
I'd rewrite her so thoroughly she wouldn't even be able to consider disobeying me. The police might stop burying their cocks into their own fleshlights and knock on my door. They might question her. They'd get nothing. She'd defend me and tell them she ran away with me. She'd fervently tell them how I'd saved her from her old life. How I'd helped her. They'd take one last look at her and leave my house. Perhaps I'd breed her as a reward.
#rapekink#r@pe fantasy#degradation k1nk#degrading k1nk#rough kink#r@pe kink#humiliation kink#r@pe k!nk#rapedoll#rapetoy#cnc kidnapping#kidnap fantasy#gaslighting kink#manipulation kink#bd/sm breeding
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a friends to lovers x reader for any of the 141 (you get to choose) where the reader is plus size and she avoids them touching her? Because she knows she's plus size and doesn't think this super attractive soldier would ever even like her, much less her body, and every time she is touched she kinda pulls away, but our soldiers are so down bad for her? 👀 And ultimately maybe she gets pulled onto a lap and immediately tries to get off? Smut or no smut, it's up to you!
Thank you lovely!! 💞💞
i like this. i like this very very much hehehehe. i chose simon (i always chose him, i really have to change that😭) (i hope you're okay with that tho. it's my personal headcanon that that man is a chubby chaser by heart lol).
as someone who's also plus-size i adore requests like this so much! i hope i could write it the way you imagined it :)
also, sorry this took me so long😭. i had a bit of a slump lol (also, please give me feedback on the smut part, i never really write smut🥲 and im a virgin lmao)
smut, plus-size!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, fem!reader, not proof-read!
(masterlist | join my tag list!)
REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!
tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus
"don't touch me simon," you mumble as you push his hands away. "you know i don't like that..." you shuffle away from him and clutch the little notepad you scribble down your customers orders.
he frowns—as always—and gives you a small smile. “‘m sorry lovie. i forgot.”
you nod and straighten your back. “your usual?” you ask, already knowing that he’ll answer with yes. and he does. then you look at the rest of the team, one eyebrow raised. it was rare that they took something else than their usual.
“positive,” price replies, as well as gaz.
“i’ll take whatever ye gimme,” johnny winks and you feel yourself blush. simon just rolls his eyes. he’s getting fed up with his best friend already.
you give johnny a honest smile and scribble something down. “10 minutes and i will be back with your drinks,” you tell them, turning to leave.
once you were out of reach johnny elbowed simon into the side, a devilish smirk on his face. “have ye told ye lassie that ye like her?” he wants to know, wiggling with his eyebrows.
“zip it johnny,” simon only grumbles, starting to bounce his knee. “i ain’t tellin’er nothin’.”
“but why? ye clearly like her.” johnny frowns. if he were in simon’s position he would’ve shot his shot weeks, if not months ago. you were—you were perfection. those curves, those hips and—god forbid—your stomach.
you were hypnotising and you didn’t even know it. johnny didn’t understand how simon could just sit and watch you. he would’ve done anything to get a taste of you, or even just a glance.
“she ain’t interested n’me johnny,” simon sighs after a moment of silence. “i won’t destroy what we have over my stupid feelings.” and with that the debate was over for simon.
before johnny could answer you return with the drinks, placing them down onto the table. “here ya go,” you smile.
“thanks lassie,” johnny grins, patting your hand. you immediately pull away.
you try to overplay it. “no problem. let me know if you need anything else.” you leave with hurried steps, praying you wouldn’t encounter touch again this evening.
-
‘fuck’ you thought when you realize: all seats were taken. this was not good, nope. you just wanted to turn around and leave without anyone taking a notice of you.
but then soap notices you, “ey lassie. com’ere!” he smiles and waves at you. with hesitant steps you walk in his and simon’s direction. giving a apologetic look to the other people. this was a movie night, not some coffee gossip round. it was rare that you were on base and on most occasions you tried to avoid it but johnny and gaz practically begged you to come so you had no other chance than to say yes.
a few moments later you stood in front of the group of men—your friends—unsure what to do. were you just gonna sit on the ground or… before you can even finish that thought a arm wraps around your waist and someone pulls you into their lap. you can‘t suppress a small yelp, your eyes blow wide.
“‘s j‘st me,“ simon whispers into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you wanted to leave. now.
“simon,“ you hiss. “let me go. i‘m way too heavy for you—“
but instead of following your request his arm around your waist only tightens. “i‘m a big guy. i can handle it,“ he only says in a low voice. with that the topic was done for him and you knew arguing wouldn‘t make sense. once simon was determined about something there was no way to chance his mind.
so, you sat in his lap the whole movie, squirming from time to time; afraid you were too heavy for him, afraid that you would hurt him in any way. meanwhile, his hands were caressing our waist, pulling you closer to him so you‘d stop wiggling around. if you wouldn‘t stop he‘d some have a problem…
beside simon johnny was throwing side glances at him, smirking when he noticed the struggles his best friend was having. he wished he was in that position… if only he‘d been a tad faster than simon you‘d sit in his lap right now and he knew he wouldn‘t be the same after than.
“y‘alright lassie?“ johnny asks as soon as the movie is over and the lights got turned on. your face was red and your pupils blown wide. you only manage a nod, trying your best to get off simon‘s lap as normal—and fast—as possible.
“i think—i think i‘ll go home now. i have work tomorrow morning,“ you smile, still embarrassed. “i hope i‘ll see you tomorrow or are you shipping out?“
“not for at least two weeks,“ simon answers and you nod and turn to leave but then he gets up too and you stop in your tracks. you raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “‘m gonna get ya home,“ he simply says and you nod again.
“alright. see you soon guys,“ you wave your goodbyes to gaz and johnny.
once you and simon where out of reach johnny started to smirk. “ohhhh, he‘s tryna get laid,“ he laughs, glancing at gaz beside him.
“100%“ the other man agrees, hiding his laughter behind his hand. “the question is if she‘s understanding all the signs…“
-
you unlock your door, simon towering over you from behind, his presence like a burning sensation you couldn‘t seem to ignore. “and we‘re there,“ you chuckle, stepping aside. “you can, uh, leave now,“ you tell him but instead of turning around he takes a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him.
“what if i don‘t want to?“ he asks, slowly coming closer to you. “what…if i want to spend the night with you, mh?“ he‘s looking down at you, his hand itching towards to your face.
you swallow, trying to hold his gaze; it seemed impossible. “why would you want that?“ you want to know, unable to phantom any reason he—out of all men—would want to spend a night with you.
he smiles at your question and lowers his head. “because i like you,“ is his answer before he starts to trails kisses down your throat. your breath gets caught and your hands rush to grip his arms. what was happening right now? this must be a dream…
"if you want t'stop, tell me," he mumbles against your neck, slowly pushing you back until your back hits your drawer. you swallow but turn your head to give him more space. it just felt so good.
your breath hitches when he finds your weak spot. "i don't want to stop," you manage to say and you feel him smirk against your skin.
he scoops you up into his arms and you yelp. "that was what i wanted t'hear," he says and seconds later his lips collide with yours as he makes his way to your bedroom. you feel like a feather in his arms, so light and free.
"been wantin' t'do this f'r a long time," simon breathes against your lips when he gently drops you down onto your bed and he pulls back. "y'look so beautiful..." his eyes admire you and you start to blush. you weren't used to being appreciated like that. especially not by men like simon.
he sits up, kneeling in front of you. then he pulls off his shirt in a smooth motion, tossing it aside. your eyes widen and you swallow again. oh steaming jesus, he looked better than you thought–
and suddenly you get aware of your looks again. you try to hide behind your arms as fast as possible, not wanting simon to see but he beats you to it. with gentle hands he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. "why're you doing that, mh?" he wants to know and you avert your gaze.
"i...don't know..." you mumble. "i just–"
he cuts you off before you can finish, "y'think i don't find ya attractive, do ya?" your blush is answer enough and he bents down. "you're the most attractive woman i've ever laid m'eyes upon..." he tells you in a whisper, placing kisses upon your face.
"you don't–"
"oh, i mean it. with every fiber of my being," he, again, cuts you off, not wanting you to doubt his attraction to you. you were beautiful, etheral even, and he didn't know how other men didn't see it. "let me worship you," he pleads, kissing your lips.
he pulls slightly back again and looks in your eyes. he wanted your consent before continung. if you'd say no, he'd stop. if you'd say yes, he would ravish you.
you hesitate for a second before you drag him back down by his neck and press a kiss to his lips. "please," you choke out, looking at him with hooded eyes.
he smiles, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it upwards. "your wish is my command love." with gentle hands he starts to undress you, trailing kisses all over your body. he wanted to you to feel good about yourself, to feel attractive.
and with every passing moment he was itching down towards your core, smirking when he feels you twitching and shuddering.
“si—simon,” you moan when his lips ghost over your clothed cunt.
he does it again, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “shhhh,” he coos, his tumb caressing your thigh. “b’good f’r me, will ya?” he was straining himself to not rip your clothes off when he started undressing you piece by piece. he wanted to cherish you, burn the image of you sprawled across your bed—naked—into his mind. who knew when he’d be able to see you like that again?
it felt like a haze, the way he was undressing and worshipping your body, his eyes rarely leaving yours. he wanted to you feel seen, to feel lusted after because that was exactly what he was doing.
he came face to face with you again, his lips finding yours while his hand cupped your pussy. your breath hitched. “so ready for me,” he chuckles, his tumb carefully starting to stimulate your clit.
a whine escapes you when he pulls his hand back after a few moments and he can’t suppress a smirk. “oh, ya needy, aren’t ya?” you only manage a nod, your mouth falling open when you feel him slipping one finger inside. “gon’ work ya well open first, love,” he tells you before he starts to litter you with kisses again.
with a steady rhythm he pumps his finger in and out of you, trying to pay attention to your body’s reaction as best as possible. he wanted to make this about you and you only.
he was sucking bruises onto your skin while moans dripped past your lips. oh, he felt like he was in heaven. “keep makin’ them sounds f’r me love,” he mumbles as he starts to hump your bed. his dick was painfully hard by now and he needed to feel some relief.
you gasp and writhe and whine, grabbing his arm to feel something between your hands. “please simon,” you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. “i wanna—“ he shuts you up with a kiss.
“i know what ya want.” and exactly that is the moment your orgasm ripples through you. a dragged out moan leaves your mouth and your fingernails bore into the flesh of his arms. “j’st like that,” simon coos, carefully removing his hand from your cunt.
you gasp for air as you come down from your high, still not 100% sure if this was real; because it didn’t feel like it. you release simon’s arms from your grip, swallowing when you saw the marks you left.
in the meanwhile simon fully undressed himself, his painfully hard cock finally getting set free. he looked at you and a smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed you staring. he tugged at his cock before he crawled back onto the bed to hover about you.
you look up at him, unsure of what to do. it’s been probably years since you’ve last had sex. it wasn’t that much of a regular thing in your life.
“ya ready?” he asks you after he connects your lips in a gentle kiss. you nod and he carefully starts to open your legs further. “i’ll be gentle, yea?”
simon’s hands caress your thighs before he aligns his cock with your entrance and trains his eyes on you as he starts to push himself inside.
your mouth falls open and your hands find their way back to grip onto his arms. a tear slips past your eye and a loud moan drags past your lips. “simon—oh my god!”
he grunts, doing his best to hold himself back from restlessly pounding into you. he didn’t want to hurt you. “no god ‘ere love. only me.” he bends down to kiss you and one of his hands starts to stimulate your clit again.
when he fully bottomed out it took all of his self control to not come immediately. he’s dreamed of this for months, years even and not it was finally happening.
“takin’ me s’good,” simon whispers in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back, making you whine before he pushes them forward again, pulling another moan out of you. “this pussy was made for me, huh.” a cocky grin was on his face.
you nod and babble, too overwhelmed by that pleasure that was so unknown to you. “wanna be good for you,” you cry, clutching his arm with your hands. “please simon.”
he starts to trail kisses down your throat while he keeps his thrusts in a steady rhythm. he felt his orgasm building but he wouldn’t come before you didn’t. this wasn’t about him and his pleasure, this was about you.
you moan, “oh—oh—“ when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. “i’m gonna come simon,” your voice trembles.
“i know,” he grits out as he fastens his thrusts and keeps stimulation your clit. the way you were clenching around him had him seeing stars. you were so close.
and then he pushes you over the cliff, your orgasm rippling through you with a force you didn’t know as possible. your vision fades to black and your mouth falls open as simon fucks you through your orgasm.
he’s trying his best to keep his composure when you clench around him, almost milking him but he pushes through, managing a couple sloppy thrusts before he comes with a deep moan, fully burying himself inside you.
his eyes are closed as he tries to take a deep breath, a faint ‘i love you’ leaving his lips.
(i’m sorry the end is like that. i’m terrible at endings🧍🏼. i didn’t know how to properly cut this😭)
#writing#ao3#fanfiction#archive of our own#story writing#call of duty#simon riley#cod#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x plus size!reader#simon riley x chubby!reader#simon ghost riley x plus size!reader#simon ghost riley x chubby!reader#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x chubby!reader
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You Really Got Me | Professor!Michael Gavey x student!fem reader
summary: With a perfect CV, Michael Gavey was on top of the fucking world and mediocrity has never seemed so inherent to you before. The new Professor of Number Theory awakened inappropriate feelings that could become risky if they were reciprocal.
a/n: well, it was quite difficult to write this because I’m not familiar with the Oxford environment and I hope that my research has made this story as credible as possible.
tags: slight slow burn, smut, p in v sex, power imbalance, swearing.
word count: 5.7k
ewanverse masterlist | next part
Michael Gavey was... many things.
A lot of things, definitely.
Michael, or rather, Professor Gavey now, aroused conflicting feelings in you.
Admiration, fear, fascination and another whirlwind was felt when it was the new and brilliant Professor of Numbers Theory. He took over the discipline of a dear veteran and great name of mathematics in Oxford, his advisor in the master’s and PhD. Obviously great expectation formed around it, around him, wondering if he would be able to overcome the grandeur of his predecessor.
And apparently he was causing a certain commotion with his above-average intelligence and his eccentric personality.
Obviously you started a search for the CV of your next professor and the finding was surprisingly extraordinary. Speaker of the 2010 class, several projects carried out, postgraduate (also in Oxford), articles published in journals with high impact factor and experience at McKinsey & Company for 2 years.
Michael Gavey was on top of the fucking world and mediocrity had never seemed so inherent to you before.
Saying that you were intimidated by the first contact with him was an understatement- you were fucking terrified. The rumors of an alleged above-average intelligence proved to be untrue. Above average? No shit, he was far beyond everything you experienced. Your eyes didn’t dare to move away from him and the painting during the following hours, too fascinated by what was happening in your fucking front. You felt a current of pure mathematics run through your body and camp in your brain, illuminating all the neurons.
What the fuck had just happened?
You learned that every class he taught was a learning experience rarely experienced before. The passion he conveyed when teaching overflowed in all his expressions so intensely that it made you orbit around him slowly.
And that was the beginning of a problem.
A big problem.
But you hadn’t noticed yet.
“If I ever thought I was smart, forget it! Michael Gavey is the epitome of everything I want to be,” your good friend Miranda said before taking a sip of her latte.
“I know right? Every class I feel that my brain will explode,” you said while leaning your head against the table, “but I can understand what it teaches, at least a good part of things. I know I already have an advisor and our work is almost published, but I think I’m thinking of getting out of Algebra and trying something with Gavey,” you looked at her.
“Woah, are you fucking sure? I mean- if that’s what you really want, that’s fine, but I think it’s too mind blowing for me,” she said.
“For me too, but it’s fucking interesting, I really want to do at least one research in this area.”
“... hmm,” Miranda smirked, humming.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she superficially drank her coffee, “hmm.”
“Cut the bullshit,” you complained as you looked at her impatiently.
“It’s nothing, it’s just that from a certain angle he’s quite cute,” she said in a thin voice.
“Who? Gavey?”
“Yeah. He’s... different from the guys you usually date or are interested in but he’s not bad looking,” she explained.
“Come on, do you really think I’m interested in him? He's our professor and a big nerd to boot!” The last thing wasn’t totally the end of the world.
“And? It’s not like students and professors have never fucked before, although I don’t think he’d risk that much, he seems to be quite methodical,” she said calmly, “and most importantly, he’s clever as fuck and that automatically makes him sexy, if he’s not an idiot.”
That was absurd, you weren’t interested in Michael Gavey!
... right?
You thought about it for the rest of the day.
Was Michael Gavey, in addition to his bestial intellect, physically attractive?
Suddenly, you began to notice how his lips were perfectly drawn and pink as he explained the most beautiful things you had ever heard in those years at Oxford. Damn it. It was Miranda’s fault, obviously. You tried to convince yourself of that while elaborating a way to approach you about the possibility of a research project without embarrassing yourself. Obviously you tried to impress him before that, answering questions whenever possible and redoing all the examples and notes he passed around. When your own mind couldn’t assimilate some details, you looked for him to ask questions and oh Lord, he was more than attentive.
The proximity also made you realize how blue his eyes were under the glasses, and how his hands were- no, wait, what were those veins? Those long and thin fingers? You know what they say about guys with big hands... And his fluffy dirty blonde hair and those soft and ugly sweaters, his height, his waist-
DAMN IT MIRANDA!
That afternoon you gathered the courage to introduce the subject after your classmates left, using your best words to make a good impression.
“I have some interesting ideas that would yield good research, but before recruiting someone, I evaluate performance throughout the term; grades, posture, commitment, everything is observed.”
“Oh... sure, professor.”
“You’re doing well so far, you have good chances, keep it up.”
You wanted to scream. You’ve been recognized.
If your previous efforts were continuous to make a good impression, they would now be compulsive to stand out from the others. You needed to have him as an advisor. And all the eagerness to please him, all the competitive desire to excel, all that fervor triggered a fire that consumed every stretch of your body silently.
And that was a problem.
It shouldn’t be, but it became without you noticing.
“Do you know how many people would sacrifice everything to sit on these chairs? Walking through these corridors? Breathe this air? All of you have an obligation to achieve more than perfection, especially if you are here because of mommy and daddy’s money.”
You knew that very well. Gavey was very demanding about the quality of his students, always reinforcing the privilege of being in this environment, which in itself would make his discipline one of the most important of that term, but your current disposition made you demand almost all attention for him, for the test that was coming, for what you aspired to in the future.
And the result couldn’t be better.
You had a 100% performance in the first test. Excellent, handwritten next to the note. “Good work, keep it up,” he said with a subtle smile.
“Thank you, professor.”
So that’s what the butterflies in your stomach were from.
You smiled, satisfied as you reaped the fruit of weeks of hard work, too numb in your own pride to feel a close eye to follow your steps to the exit, although you had not gone unnoticed by Miranda.
“I think someone caught Gavey’s attention,” she hummed low, approaching on your side to lightly nudge your body with her hip.
“I know right? I need this opportunity,” you celebrated, oblivious to the implicit tone of her voice.
“I didn’t mean that way, babe. It's just he’s keeping an eye on you constantly, literally checking you every- I don’t know, three minutes?” She said it as if it were obvious.
“What? No, I don’t think it’s in this sense, he uses everything as a parameter of choice, he’s just observing my posture.” What? To believe that Gavey had ulterior motives? Too unreal.
“No, sweetheart, he was staring at you when no one paid attention, or almost no one, and he spent most of his time looking at you,” she insisted.
“You don't really thi-“
“I totally think so!”
Oh fuck.
“I’m not saying he’s in love with you, but he's interested, hell yeah,” she explained as you slowly processed her words.
“Fuck,” you said, “do you really, really think so? I mean- he doesn’t look like the type who stays with students.”
Definitely not, he seemed too methodical for that, methodical enough to separate the spectra of his life into compartments.
But what if there was the possibility? You couldn’t reproduce that question audibly, but in the comfort of your bed, you allowed yourself to daydream.
If there was some possibility?
Well, there were pros and cons that needed to be analyzed meticulously, of course.
In the event that Michael was a systematic monster, there wouldn’t be problems in a relationship since he wouldn’t mix romance with studies, theoretically. On the other hand, if he didn’t know how to differentiate the staff from the professional... well, you’d be fucked up if something went wrong. And that was the main point: the mistake.
The consequences would be drastic if something bad happened, especially to you, whose life was still under construction and a scholarship in Oxford could not be negotiated. The cost was too high.
However, over the weeks, you could only think about how attractive your professor was.
And now you know it’s a problem.
And with that, the end of year 2 was near when you received an email from Michael Gavey requesting to send your notes and certificates of everything you had done and participated in so far. Jesus, that man wasn’t kidding.
Neither were you.
That same morning you attached the documents to the e-mail and forwarded a response, as a result, your presence was requested at his office as soon as possible. I’m available in the afternoon, you send to him.
It was complicated to make your legs stop shaking along the way, practically jumping through the corridors while trying to stay calm. It was your chance, one where nothing could go wrong. You wore your best clothes, put on accessories that you used to wear daily and a subtle makeup to make a good impression, nothing that drew too much attention.
Stopping in front of his door, you took a deep breath and announced your presence with a light knock against the old wood, receiving immediate permission to enter the space. You would've liked the time and the absence of an observer to analyze all the details, but instead your eyes locked with his as he walked back to his chair.
“Good afternoon,” he said, a polite smile illuminating his beautiful face as he pointed to the chair in front of you, “have a seat. Please.”
“Good afternoon, professor, thank you,” you greeted him back, shaking your hands anxiously as you sat down.
With no time to allow your eyes to wander through the objects on the table, Michael cut straight to the point. "So, what aroused your interest in Number Theory?" You, to begin with.
"Well, I chose Maths at the age of 17, but things were difficult when I started the course. I was disenchanted considerably, but I always remained active. When your classes started I felt the same thing that motivated me to join here, it was as if everything had made sense again and I really fell in love with it."
“I see,” he said, crossing his hands over the table with a soft smile and a slight pink to his cheeks. Did you make him blush? No way. "I’m happy to have contributed positively to your training. I really appreciated your performance during classes and the analysis of your CV. The activities you have developed are also good but they can improve, I believe you also aspire to it. I seek a high level of quality in my students, after all we are in one of the best universities in the world and excellence is the least expected, I believe we agree on that. Have you already decided where you would like to specialise within Number Theory?"
"To be honest, no, but I would like to find out in-"
"I have some ideas that I’d like to be executed, I can show you now, if you don't have something in mind," he interrupted you with enthusiasm.
"... yes, I’d love to," you said, "but first, thank you for the opportunity you’re giving me, I admire you so much from the first classes and I feel really happy to receive this chance, I know there are many successful veteran professors, but I believe that a current view of a person as impressive as you can bring interesting results."
And if he had blushed with your previous statement, now he was red as a tomato and all disconcerted as he looked down with a shyness never witnessed before by you. It was deadly cute.
Gosh, you were really fucked.
═════════════════════
Working with Michael was exciting.
Terrifying too.
You felt constantly intimidated by his intellect, which caused a mix of sensations that varied according to the day. There was the pride of collaborating with him, the fear of failing, the paranoia of not being good enough and the satisfaction of achieving good results. It was a real roller coaster.
The passing of the months dissipated the initial strangeness and made living more comfortable. On the other hand, the proximity made you watch him for longer. It was pathetic.
Michael spent most of his time in front of his computer, correcting things, creating things and participating in events. You weren’t the only one under his guidance, there was Paul, a recent entry in Maths who was too inert in his own world to notice any non-standard deviation. Paul was a reminder and a barrier for nothing to come out of your daydreams, although he didn't seem very interested in what you were doing.
Still, you couldn't feed those thoughts, your relationship should be strictly professional.
It didn't matter how discreetly he approached you to help, or how close he leaned towards you- more than what was considered respectful. Or how good he smelled and looked so comfortable with his cheesy sweaters and old shoes. Or when you looked at him closely while he explained something.
How it was happening at that very moment.
“You're wasting time trying to demonstrate this equation, it's not so important for the project,” he said when analysing your latest advances.
"I know, but I'd like to understand better and I'm not getting it, it seems too abstract," you said with a frustrated pout, bothered by being stuck in something so simple.
"You've already solved more difficult things," he stressed, looking at you consciously, "can I?" he asked, referring to your notebook and the pen next to your laptop.
“Sure.”
Your attention focused on the numbers and symbols scribbled on the paper, trying to keep up with the speed of his thought. Watching it has always been fascinating.
“Some things are more difficult when we make them like this,” he said as he sketched on the paper.
"It's easy to say that being you," you replied, lamenting the failed attempt to absorb some of his knowledge.
"But it's true."
Unconsciously, you leaned your shoulder against his arm. "Some things are naturally difficult, not everyone can visualise like you."
"I know, it's a natural advantage," he smirked, looking at you over his shoulder, face closer than usual. "But you have a good brain, you shouldn't make it harder than it is."
So close.
"And how should I make it easier?" You held your breath, not daring to look beyond his beautiful blue irises.
"Find in the problem points that are favourable to you, try to demystify them, make them palpable," he replied slowly, taking a deep breath.
Really close.
"And if there's nothing to be explored?"
"You can always call me."
"… I know."
So close.
═════════════════════
After that, you don't know what or why, but something has changed in your relationship with Michael.
His looks became more persistent, his presence seemed closer, almost palpable. Maybe it was a daydream of your own mind, but it looked different, inexplicably different. The air seemed heavier when there was proximity. He seemed comfortable when he touched your shoulder while you read your results. It was nothing, you thought.
There was something not said and that was enough to bring out fears and expectations.
Why not? You thought repeatedly, knowing the reasons very well.
But, maybe...
Maybe you needed to get him out of your head for a few hours, meet some nice guys, drink a little, it was a good idea.
That's why that Friday night you decided to go to one of the nearby pubs with Miranda. It was a good plan, you would leave the lab at 5 PM and get ready to meet her at 7 PM. It was in fact a good plan... until the data analysis program decided to crash in the middle of your work and a malaise affected your friend, in addition to a grotesque rain that started to fall recently. Well, at least you tried.
After collecting the material from the bench, you stretched your arms above your head to ward off the hours of agonizing stress and got up from the chair. It was already late and your view was tired, more than your own body when Michael showed up with his keys in his hand after closing his own office. He spent the afternoon by your side trying to solve the damn problem in addition to his chores as a teacher.
"Everything worked out?" He asked.
"Yeah, at least that," you grumbled, picking up your backpack, "thank you for the help," you looked at him before going to the switches to turn off the equipment.
"You’re welcome," he said simply, in a softer tone than usual. Thunder echoed when you turned off the lights and made you retreat briefly in fright, making himhim laugh softly. "So, what does your generation do to have fun Friday night?" He asked casually after leaving the laboratory.
"Considering that these pubs are older than you and me, I think the same thing your generation did," you replied humorously, looking at him with a small smile, "Unfortunately not with this rain."
"Did you have plans?" He asked.
"Yes, my friend and I’d go to MacLaren's pub, but she's sick and the world decided to fall suddenly and I didn't bring my umbrella," you said faster than you intended, a brief irritation about how your night was totally destroyed. “And you?”
“No plans,” he said, adjusting his sweater. His car was close, but the rain prevented him from advancing a lot. "Are you walking?" He asked.
"Yes- I mean as soon as the rain passes," you crossed your arms and hugged yourself.
"I can take you," he said, his words beginning to make your heart beat faster.
It's no big deal, it's just a polite gesture.
"Oh no, you don't have to, honestly. I can wait," you said, although the twinge in your heart meant the opposite. Why the fuck did I deny it? Damn it.
"It's no big deal, besides we don't know when it will pass," he said, "we can wait in my car, I'm fucking freezing here."
"Sure." You tried not to freak out at the idea of being in such a restricted and warm environment with him, but Michael didn't seem to share the concern, since he basically ran in the middle of the fine rain to reach his car. Okay then. You went right behind, putting the backpack above your head to protect yourself from the water and closing the door harder than you intended. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting that,” you said with a light laugh.
"I just needed this heater," he said with a small smile on his lips, messing with things on the panel, "I also didn't bring an umbrella."
Avoiding making him uncomfortable when analyzing his every movement, you took your cell phone to try to distract yourself, relaxing when the hot air became present. It was almost 6:45 when You Really Got Me filled your ears and made you look at him.
"Do you like The Kinks?" You asked.
"I'm a fan, what about you?"
"My friend is a big fan."
“And you?”
"I like some songs."
"My grandfather was a great vinyl collector, he left everything to my father but he was never into rock in general," he said as he adjusted his glasses, looking at you with soft eyes.
You looked at him with interest. "I started listening to rock to get the attention of a guy I liked. It didn't work but I really liked the songs, although I don't listen to the same bands as I did when I was younger."
Michael laughed. The sound was carefree, almost relaxed even, a facet you didn't see often. He looked soft, cozy, in that burnt orange sweater he wore. "And what do you listen to?"
“I listen to a lot of Oasis, but that's not really 60's stuff. But I also like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Strokes...”
“Big fan of Oasis,” he said.
“Really?”
"I have all the vinyls and I went to a concert in Manchester before the separation." He paused, "Would you like to see them?"
There was an intensity in his look that made your breathing fail, making the air heavy. The casualness of the situation did not seem so natural all of a sudden. He meant-
“In my home.”
Shit shit shit shit
You couldn't, you shouldn't.
“Yes.”
═════════════════════
And so, contrary to all the possibilities of the night, you were in Michael fucking Gavey's house.
A veiled restlessness endured in the air and in the way your heart beat as you were taken by the unknown path. You couldn't believe you had agreed to that, but here you were, looking at every detail of his flat with curiosity. It was large, clean and almost minimalist in design, some thematic objects of mathematics scattered around on the shelves, walls and table. Nerd.
A short silence was maintained while your eyes eagerly explored his place. "Do you want to drink something?"
"Water would be great," you tried to keep the modesty, while watching him go to the kitchen and approach with your request with his gaze locked on yours.
You couldn't be imagining things, there was something there, a different glow, an unspoken truth that caused chills to run through your body.
"You can sit down, I'll get the vinyls."
Your heart was almost exploding since the invitation. You couldn't believe he brought you here, much less that you agreed to come. What the fuck should you do? Let him show you the records and then go? That was stupid.
You forced a conscious smile when he appeared with the records in his hand, watching with a certain curiosity.
“Here,” he said with what you assumed to be a nervous smile, “This is definitely my favourite, although What's the Story? Morning Glory introduced me to the band-“
Your brain wandered when he started digging non-stop about the albums, not giving a damn about Noel and Liam Gallagher's drama, all that mattered was that you were next to Michael Gavey, on his couch, at his house. Michael, the man who took away your sleep and made you constantly daydream. The man who fascinated and intimidated you to the same extent, who made your body warm up when it was close and imagined what it would be like if he got closer.
With his beautiful eyes, nose and lips, big hands and long fingers, soft and beautiful dirty blond hair.
You've wanted it for a long time.
You wanted him.
Wanted to fuck him.
You wanted to fuck your own professor.
And you're tired of denying it.
"I know I shouldn't do that, but it's all I've been thinking about for months."
You interrupted him, touching his cheek as you slowly leaned against him. He froze in place, not preventing your advances as your faces grew closer and closer. Your lips gently brushed against his before pressing harder, starting a fearful and shy, almost chaste kiss.
He didn't reciprocate.
Your heart sank, panic blooming in your stomach.
What did I do?
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"
His lips silenced any doubts that dared to emerge, holding the back of your head while kissing you experimentally. You didn't waste time in moving your lips at the pace he set, holding the back of his neck and smoothing his beautiful face, tasting the taste of his lips.
You couldn't believe it, you couldn't! He was kissing you!
Michael Gavey was kissing you!
"I'm sorry, we shouldn't-" he said as he walked away abruptly, but you didn't care.
You attacked his hungry lips and made him move the discs away when he leaned against his body, climbing on his lap and holding both sides of his neck. His hand went down your back and held your ass firmly while the other grasped on the back of your neck, pulling your body closer and asking for access to your mouth with his tongue. You kissed, sucked, and bit his pink lips, taking advantage of everything you could before moving away to look into his eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance.
“I've wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed.
“Me too,” you said.
And then you were kissing him again, and again, and again until your lips were red, wet and swollen. Your body warmed up when a bulge emerged below your thighs, instinctively grinding against it.
“Fuck- I can't, we can't do that, I'm your fucking professor,” he said out of breath, holding your arms and briefly pushing your body away. "This can ruin everything- fuck up our relationship-"
He was red, dilated pupils and heavy breathing, a fucking vision.
“I know, I know. But... just this time, we can forget just this time... what do you think?"
He held firmly one side of your face and looked into your eyes. “Are you fucking sure about this?”
“I'm fucking sure.”
Just this time.
"... just this time."
He leaned over to kiss you quickly, moving his hands under your blouse to take it over his head, groping the exposed skin of your arms, waist and belly with his big hands while drinking from your body with lascivious eyes. "Beautiful," he whispered.
His lips traveled to spice up moist kisses on your neck, sucking the conjuncture with his shoulder, licking your throat, making you melt and close your eyes when he found your sweet spot. Who knew he had that fire? He nibbled and sucked the sensitive skin, holding your waist firmly when he raised you and put you on the floor, leaving you stunned as he guided you by the hand to the room.
Michael didn't have time for your reasoning to come back when he gently pushed you against the door with both hands next to your head. “You're fucking gorgeous.”
“And you're handsome,” you removed his orange sweater, touching the skin of his torso.
"... you don't have to reciprocate the compliment."
Your chest hurt when you heard that, which made you touch his cheek instinctively. "I'm not saying out of courtesy, Michael, you're fucking attractive," you traced his lips with your thumb, looking at him firmly. “Fucking handsome.”
A slight blush took over his cheeks and he captured your lips with passion, holding your waist while kissing life outside of you. Your head was spinning and your stomach warmed up by intimacy, straightening his soft hair. You were in the damn clouds.
His hands moved to unbutton your pants and lower them, kneeling before you to remove your shoes and jeans, kissing the stomach trail to the top of your panties and shamelessly touching your drenched pussy.
"Mmm," you shuddered and closed your eyes when he started rubbing your clitoris, increasing the moisture between your thighs. Fuck. Your goddamn professor was kneeling in front of you. If you weren't wet before, now a river has accumulated in your center.
"Is that good?" He asked.
“Yeah,” you whispered, holding onto him for better support, watching him continue to massage your clit now directly into the skin while leaving kisses on your belly. You leaned dramatically against the door when he stuck a finger in your entrance, pumping slowly, feeling you, teasing. “Fuck.”
Michael removed his finger and stood up, unbuttoning his belt quickly and taking off his pants and shoes, leaving you warm and needy and following him like a puppy when he went to the headboard near the bed and opened the upper drawer to take off a condom. Damn it, he was so fine. Before his hands were on your body, you slowly pushed him on the bed and took control, removing the bra and discarding the panties. You couldn't believe what was about to happen.
Your body trembled when he pulled you by the waist and clapped your breasts as you sat on his covered cock and ground over it.
"Fuck," he grunted, sucking one nipple.
"Michael," you moaned, panting. 'Professor,' that's what you wanted to shout, pulling the hair from the back of his neck. He moaned when you kept grinding against his erection and hoisted your hips to lay you on the sheets.
Your mouth opened when he discarded his underwear - not even in the wettest dreams did you imagine that size. He was fucking fine. Tall, thin, defined and with a beautiful cock. Fuck-
Michael Gavey was really a box full of surprises. He barely had time to adjust his glasses and put on the condom before he was pulled by you to take over the top, caged by your legs.
He captured your lips in a sweet kiss, leaning on his elbow as he adjusted between your thighs. The next thing you felt was the welcome intrusion into your folds, stretching you open deliciously. The initial stretch was a little painful, it's been a while since you've been with someone, but he was slow and careful when sinking into your core, making your toes curl up and a relieved moan come out of your throat when he was totally inside.
"Are you alright?" He asked with his face above yours.
"Yes," you held his back, "just wait a minute, please."
“Okay,” he said with a red face, hoarse voice and almost breathless.
Your walls were pulsating when you finally received it, relaxing when the slight discomfort passed. “Move.”
His thrusts were soft, but firm, looking at you closely. You couldn't believe that, yes, Michael was fucking you. Finally.
You leaned up to kiss him while holding your back, groping his wrinkles around your eyes. He was fucking handsome. His hips went further and faster when your body was totally receptive, the moisture and heat surrounding him and making him slip without hindrance. He leaned his forehead against yours and held your hips when you dug your feet on the bed, hitting deeper than before, making you moan loudly and your pussy squeeze instinctively.
A hoarse moan was his response, almost a whining that was swallowed by your lips.
You were in the fucking clouds with the intimacy of the moment, tracing patterns on his back and pulling the blonde strands from the back of the neck when the thrusts became more intense, deliberately repeating his name. Michael attacked the conjuncture of your neck and lifted your thigh even more to go deeper, deliciously hitting your core.
"Michael- fuck-" You could only think of how good he felt, how big his cock was and how his bulbous head brushed your sweet spot whenever he moved. You needed it too much. Holding his shoulders and pushing him away a little, you looked at him panting, making his eyes widen.
"Did I hurt you?" He asked with a tense body.
"No, no, It's just-" and then you moved to take control, resting your hands on his chest, "this." You wanted to ride him since the time you called me in your office. You rubbed your hips against his groin in an addictive rhythm, loving the friction against your clitoris and the feeling of being totally filled.
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing your ass, groping your hip, holding your breasts, covering every piece of skin available.
You started moving on his cock, touching his chest gently. You felt it all over your core and that burned your whole body, especially when your spongy spot was being brushed rhythmically. Michael pulled you to a scorching kiss full of tongue and teeth, leaving your movements sloppy, but constant, almost frantic, your moans and whining became higher and higher, your velvety walls squeezing his thick axis more and more.
"So fucking good," he moaned against your mouth and leaned his feet on the bed, holding your buttocks and hitting his hips against yours.
“Fuck-“ you almost screamed, resting your head against his chest when he started pushing quickly into your hot pussy, creating lascivious sounds that echoed all over the room.
“You're squeezing me so fucking hard - you're close, aren't you?” He asked, almost breathless.
“Y-yes,” your eyes closed when the family tingling intensified and your juices lubricated it even more.
"Come for me baby," he grunted when your folds pulsed around him, "cum in my fucking cock."
Shit.
Your orgasm hit you hard; hot and sudden as lightning, making your body tremble and a flash blind your vision as the air disappeared from your lungs and your mind went blank.
"Fuck," you heard him moan far away, feeling his cock pulsate and the squeeze on your ass increase when his erratic movements stopped, leaving only a few slow pushes on your sensitive pussy.
You melted completely when the orgasmic euphoria spared, coming out of it unwillingly so as not to deprive you of the air and stabilize your own breathing. Your mind was tired although very aware of the fact that you had just fucked your professor.
You can't fucking believe it.
Fucking finally.
"Are you okay?" He asked, all red and sweaty as he looked at you with crooked glasses.
“Absofuckinglutely,” you looked at him tired, panting, attracted by how cozy he looked. “And you?”
He smiled softly, pushing away some strands of hair that had stuck to your forehead, fingering your face with his thumb. “I'm fucking great.”
Michael pulled you to rest on his chest when a comfortable mist hovered between you as you recovered. None of you said anything for the next few minutes, just enjoying the calm silence before reality starts to come back. You fucked your professor.
You fucked your professor.
What did you have in your head?
You tried to convince yourself that nothing would change after that, that your relationship would not be affected, but you were not sure of that
Just this time.
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taglist: @venmondiese @re-per @anukulee @slytherincursebreaker @tulips2715 @rhaenyslay @angelinap09 @cupidelocke @aegonswife @fan-goddess @thenightmistress @deliaseastar @scarletbedlam @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk
my lovely beta reader: @moris-auri 💙💙
#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x fem!reader#smut#smut fic#michael gabey smut#saltburn#ewan mitchell#ewanverse#masterlist
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love confession - @wolfstarmicrofic - 948 words
If anyone had asked, he would have sworn blind that he didn’t want Remus. Not like that, not at all. It was Remus. Moony. Come on.
It’s not that Remus wasn’t… It was just that Sirius didn’t ever think about it. And then he deliberately didn’t think about it, because he was on the run, because they had to re-form the Order, because his priority was Harry, because there was absolutely no space in Sirius’s mind to consider the possibility that he might still be a person who…
“I was so bloody terrified of losing him,” Sirius found himself admitting out of nowhere. Andromeda was sitting with him on the rooftop of Grimmauld Place late one evening, and maybe it was the freedom of that liminal nightime space, but Sirius found himself cracking open with truths he hadn’t known existed until he said them.
“It all changed overnight - we were heading back into a war, and I knew where I had to be, and I thought he’d just drift away. That it was too much - to keep fighting, hanging onto some semblance of… I don’t know.”
Sirius tipped his head back, staring up at the stars.
“But he didn’t,” Andromeda said.
“No, he didn’t,” Sirius replied, some note of bittersweet surprise running through his voice. “Did the opposite, actually. And I still… I’m just so glad he’s here. Every day. I’m so glad.”
“I would be too, living here,” Andromeda said, earning a dark huff of laughter in response.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, in hindsight - but when Sirius allowed himself just a fraction of a moment to consider whether he might actually… well, he couldn’t un-know what he knew now.
There was no way out but through. Remus was right there, for christ’s sake. Sirius couldn’t keep this under control; he barely had any grip on his sanity as it was.
He probably could have picked a better moment, but there they were, searching the library for something on wolfsbane - Sirius could make that potion for Remus himself, thanks, and fuck that other slimy git - when it all came tumbling out.
“Oi, you got a moment?”
Remus glanced up from the aging volume he had half-open against the bookshelf; he gently closed it, slotting it carefully back into place, then turned to Sirius with his full attention.
“I’m all ears.”
“Yeah…” Sirius nodded, then began pacing across the room. “Yeah. Look, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything okay?” Remus asked. “Is this about the Order?”
“No,” Sirius said quickly. “No, it’s not about that. It’s about…. us.”
“Us?”
“Moony - god, this is driving me insane,” Sirius said, running an exasperated hand through his hair as he glanced away to try and collect his thoughts.
“Look,” he continued, turning back to Remus. He took a breath. “I’m in love with you. There’s no easy way of saying this, so - yeah, fuck it. That’s how I feel. I’m really bloody in love with you.”
Remus was stock-still, staring at him. Sirius wasn’t sure what he’d expected - maybe surprise, or even shock. Maybe for Remus to instantly confess he felt the same, if Sirius had let himself hope a little. Maybe for Remus to let Sirius push him back against the sofa…
The Remus opposite him simply looked nonplussed.
“Oh,” he said. He blinked, his expression not changing an iota.
Burning, horrified realisation started to seep through Sirius. Remus didn’t… he wasn’t…
“Yeah, look—”
The click of the library door opening stopped Sirius in his tracks.
“Sorry to bother you!”
Remus’s eyes snapped just a second too late to where Arthur was poking his head cheerily round the door.
“Just wanted to let you know dinner’s on the table!”
“We’ll come down with you,” Remus told him. He cast a glance at Sirius, who nodded, trying to push away the hot stone that seemed to have dropped into his stomach and was beginning to radiate pain up through his chest.
He didn’t look at Remus the entire meal, just sat silent and surly in the corner. Nobody bothered him. Nobody ever did, when he was like this.
Molly, Arthur, Charlie and Tonks retreated to the living room after dinner for a game of cards. The last thing Sirius wanted was to be around anyone right now - he held back in the kitchen, mumbling something about cleaning up, then leant over the counter with a long sigh once he was finally alone.
“Padfoot?”
Sirius whipped round, in a flash of fear and miserable hope, to find Remus standing awkwardly opposite him.
“Moony, I’m - just don’t worry about it, alright?”
“Sirius, please.”
“Moony—”
“No, do not brush this off!” Remus interrupted. Sirius balked in surprise; Remus let out a tense breath, then spoke more calmly.
“You just caught me by surprise.”
Sirius frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that. Ever, really. But especially not in the middle of the library.”
There was a glimmer of a smile on his lips, and Sirius’s heart lurched.
“Yeah, well. The stuffy books weren’t gonna hold me back.”
Remus laughed then, and Sirius’s courage surged, pushing him up off the counter with just a hint of swagger.
“What did you want to say, then?” he asked. “If I’m not brushing this off.”
Remus looked much more nervous now, eyes darting down to his shoes then back up to Sirius.
“Did you mean it?” he asked hesitantly.
“‘Course.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay?” Sirius teased.
“Yes,” Remus smiled. A flash of tongue darted over his lips, and - well, that was it really.
If he was honest with himself, Sirius had been waiting far, far too long.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#sirius black#remus lupin#in which i try to figure out what im doing with a 50k word fic through a 900 word fic#i know this is like 6 days late but i saw the prompt on my dash and had an idea#this month's prompts are DELICIOUS#otp: i'm mental about you#hp
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Hunter vs Witch (2)
Summary: Sam just can’t stand you.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Witch!Reader
Sidepairing: Dean Winchester x Pie 🙃
Warnings: banter, implied past sexual encounters, fun, enemies to lovers, chasing, implied/very light smut, collars (magical), mentions of somnophilia?
Catch up here: Hunter vs Witch
Divider by @firefly-graphics
“I will kill you!” Sam yells while chasing you around the bunker. They invited you to join them on a hunt (well, Dean invited you) and you decided to stay a little longer. You took the opportunity to grab a few books and talismans to try a few new spells. Much to Sam’s chagrin.
The hunter still doesn’t trust you. Or so he likes to tell everyone. The truth is, he didn’t like how you eyed his brother when Dean emerged from the showers, only a towel hanging loose on his hips.
“Y/N, stop or I’ll shoot you!”
You giggle and run even faster; your prey is still tugged under your arm. “You can try, but you won’t succeed, Winchester. You’re too slow, Samuel!”
“Guys, can a man not enjoy the company of pie in silence nowadays!” Dean yells from the kitchen. He was about to feast on the pie you helped him bake and now, the moment of togetherness got ruined.
“Sorry, Deano!” You call while running past the kitchen, his brother hot on your heels. You snicker, and speed up again to hide at the last place Sam will expect you to hide in. The dungeon.
“I mean it!” Dean points a fork at his brother as Sam tries to run past the kitchen to catch you. “If I hear or see you copulate with her again, you’re banned from the bunker for a week.”
“I didn’t do a thing with that woman,” Sam lies poorly. He glares at his brother, eyes dropping to the pie. “It’s rather you who’s all over her all the time. Y/N made the pie to increase your sexual appetite.”
“Dude, she’s obsessed with your dick, not mine,” Dean grumbles and turns his attention back toward his beloved pie. “Don’t listen to him sweetheart, he’s a jealous bitch. You’re everything I want.”
Sam shudders. “Just don’t do anything odd with the pie,” he says before turning to run after you. “We don’t need therapy only because you couldn’t stop yourself from banging the pie.”
Dean eyes the pie. He licks his lips and hums. “I’m telling you, man. If I could, I’d fuck the pie and be happy for the rest of my life. Pie makes you happy. Women can be…complicated.”
“Gross,” Sam comments and finally chases after you. You poke your head around the corner, waiting for Sam to catch up with you before running toward the next hideout.
This is going to be fun…
The chase ended with you pressed up against the wall in the dungeon. Naked, except for a collar wrapped around your neck to remind you that he’s in charge of you, and your body.
“I knew the collar would look good around your neck,” Sam whispers in your ear. He’s pressing the full length of his body against yours, making sure you feel his strength. “You won’t use your powers inside the bunker. Not without my allowance.”
“Fuck you,” you dip your head to look at Sam. He smirks at your response. “I will use my powers whenever and wherever I want.”
“Try to use them now,” he nips at your earlobe, tugging at it. “Come on, try to use them with the collar around your neck. It will hurt like hell and knock you out. I will just fuck you while you’re out cold.”
You smirk now. “I knew you’re a sick bastard, Winchester.”
“Only because you make me sick,” he purrs and nuzzles your cheek. “I’m going to show you what happens when you steal my artifacts and books ever again.”
Sam holds you pinned to the wall with his upper body while his hands work his pants open.
“What do you want to do?” You chuckle darkly, hoping he will punish you with his cock. “Do your worst, Winchester. You won’t break me.”
“I’ll break you so good.”
It’s too late for regrets now. He’s so hard it hurts not to feel you wrapped around him. Even if he doesn’t trust you, there is something about you drawing him in, like the moth to the flame.
Sam teases your entrance with the tip of his cock slowly inching his way inside your body.
“Yeah? How good, little hunter.”
Sam groans feeling your walls welcome him. He slams his hands against the wall while cursing your name.
You press your head against the wall, breathing slowly to not give away how good it feels having him inside of you. “Not too bad, hunter.”
“You’re going to be a good little witch for me from now on,” Sam wraps one arm around your body, holding you close to him as he starts rolling his hips. "If you do what I say, you're going to cum. If not...well...you know that I'm a master in punishment."
Sam made sure you’ll feel his rules in your bones.
The collar didn’t come off until you whimpered his name, and fell asleep, overstimulated, ass bruised but with a dopey smile on your face…
Tags in reblog.
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x witch!reader#witch!reader#sam winchester x y/n#Hunter vs Witch (2)
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"Because I fucking love you !"
Author's Note : Here is the argument OS we talked about ! I hope you liked it. I think that's the more smut I have ever written (save for one that was deleted when my phone was stolen...). It's not really filthy or hardcore but I did my best. Let me know what you think ❤️
TW : Smut
You were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, while your boyfriend of four months was standing in on your doorstep, nervously scratching his beard. You were absolutely dying to hear the excuse he would come up with, to try and explain why you waited for two fucking hours at a restaurant, for a man who never showed up. He had let you down in the past, cancelled plans at the last minute but this humiliation was new. And this time, you had enough.
Two hours, Marshall. I waited for you for two hours, you reminded him.
I know, I’m sorry, he said sheepishly.
Well, two hours is only the time I spent waiting for you in the restaurant, you corrected. Because it took you two more hours to call me after I went home. So, really, that’s four.
I can do the math, Y/N, he sighed. I don’t suck that much with numbers.
Speaking of which… You sure seemed to have lost my number, you pointed out.
I wasn’t getting any service, he replied.
Whatever, you said. That’ll teach me.
Teach you what ?
Not to waste my time on men who clearly don’t care about me.
The both of you stayed silent for a couple of seconds. It was time to address the elephant in the room : he clearly wasn’t that into you. The past four months had been great, overall, and Marshall was a great guy, but you were tired of cancelled plans, of going days on end without so much as a text… and waiting, all dolled up, in a crowded restaurant with waiters feeling sorry for you was the last straw. Plus, it was always you making efforts to accommodate his busy schedule, never the other way around. You liked him, a lot - hell, you were in love with the man - but you knew you had to do yourself a favor and put an end to it. You had been there, done that, spending time on people who wouldn’t do the same for you and you weren’t about to make the same mistakes. It was a shame, though, because if you put aside Marshall’s shitty schedule and time management, he was one of the greatest men you had ever dated. Funny, kind, compassionate, thoughtful. He even gave you his undivided attention. If only said attention wasn’t so hard to get…
You think I don’t care about you ? Marshall asked with a confused look on his face.
You clearly don’t, you scoffed.
Really ? I clearly don’t ?! he asked as he crossed his arms in a defensive stance.
In the past two weeks, you have cancelled one date, bailed on me for a second one and barely texted me, Marshall, you sighed.
Because I’m busy ! He exclaimed. I am fucking drowning in work ! Do you have an idea what my fucking schedule looks like ?! I have meetings, trips, studio sessions… I’m busy trying to finish my album !
And you don’t think I’m busy ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. I work too ! I have a busy schedule and, yet, I have never bailed on you, have I ? And I respond to your texts ! So you don’t get to play the « I’m busy » card. I don’t have time for your shitty excuses !
Look, I’m sorry I bailed on you, but-
No but ! You almost shouted. I’m sick of excuses. I don’t deserve this. I’m sick of waiting for you to call me whenever you want to hook up or whatever it is you’re even capable of !
You think that’s all I want ?! To hook up with you ?! He yelled. If I wanted a hook up, I have a thousand groupies to choose from, I wouldn’t waste my time trying to apologize at 1AM on your doorstep !
Why don’t you go and pick a groupie for the night then ?!
Because you’re the one I want ! He almost screamed.
Because I’m probably the only one who’s dumb enough to put up with you, you scoffed.
Because I fucking love you, Y/N, he shouted.
You were ready to enter a shouting match with him but this impromptu declaration stopped you in your tracks. You looked at him, flabbergasted. He was red in the face, almost panting from the yelling.
Y-you… what ? You asked.
I… fuck. I wasn’t planning on telling you like this, he groaned.
But… you do ?
Of course I do, he nearly scoffed.
Say it again, you asked.
He chuckled and took a step closer towards you. You were still mad at him but hearing those three magic words did a great job softening you, and so did standing in his presence. Whenever he was close to you, it seemed like you couldn’t think straight. You weren’t too sure if it was his stature, his piercing blue gaze or his heavenly smell, but there was something about him that drove you crazy. It had been so since you first met, the chemistry being undeniable on both parts. He cupped your face and smiled at you.
I love you, Y/N, he said softly.
I love you too… Dumbass.
You were trying really hard not to smile. After all, you were still livid that you had to wait for him. In your opinion, it was humiliating. But Marshall’s grin was almost contagious and, from the look on his face, you could tell that he knew it.
Are you going to let me in ? He asked calmly, still smiling.
Do you think you deserve it ? You asked as you failed to contain a smile.
Probably not, he admitted. But you know you want to.
I’m still mad, you warned.
I’ll make it up to you, he assured you. I told you I love you. How about I show you how much ?
His voice was seductive and there was absolutely no doubt as to how he wanted to show you the depth of his affection. And, deep down, you were all for it. You caved in and grabbed his arm, pulling him in for a deep kiss. You could feel him smile against your mouth as he kissed you back, one of his hands on your waist, the other cupping your face. With his foot, he slammed the door shut behind him and, one second later, he was carrying you to your bedroom as your legs wrapped around his waist. One he entered your room, he gently let you down on the bed before taking a good look at you. You had abandoned the pretty dress you had worn to dinner for silk pajamas : tiny shorts that hugged you ass and a camisole that did not cover much of your chest. Your boyfriend arbored a smirk and a lustful look in his eyes that left no doubt as to what his intentions were. You smiled and pulled him closer to you, kissing him fervently. He kept on kissing you as he removed his jacket and kicked his shoes before laying on top of you. His kisses were passionate and hungry but his moves were painfully slow. He was running his hands up your bare legs, feeling how silky smooth they were, his caresses almost tickling you. His hands continued their exploration of your body, that he knew like the back of his hand already. They roamed underneath your camisole, tracing circles on your back and sending shivers down your spine. His ability to electrify you with just one touch always amazed you. Whenever the two of your touched, you could swear there were sparks all over the room and fireworks in your chest. He had always told you how much he loved your soft skin and how he could spend hours just stroking it. But you were yearning for more, you were absolutely hungry for him. You wanted his touch all over your body, on every inch of your skin, and especially in some places. Places that did not include your back. You tried to grab his hands to redirect them in the right spots but he simply chuckled at how eager you were.
We have all night, baby, he whispered. And you have me for the whole weekend. Just be patient, alright ?
You let out a small displeased whine. You wanted him and you wanted him right now. And after keeping you waiting all night, the least he could do was to oblige, right ? You were about to remind him when he pressed his index to your lips and buried his face in your neck, kissing your sweet spot before sucking on it. His teeth grazed your skin and you couldn’t help but let out a small moan. He pressed his finger to your lips again and you did not resist the temptation to tease him by sucking on it. You could feel a grin form on his lips, still against your neck, as you ran your hands underneath his tee-shirt, which you desperately wanted him to remove. Under your fingers, you could feel every muscle in his back. He hummed at your touch and, as you tugged on the fabric of his shirt, he seemed to get the message. He sat up, straddling you for a second to remove it, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his perfect, muscular chest. It was no secret that you were absolutely fond of his pecs, nearly obsessed with them. So, as he undressed, you were virtually unable to resist the temptation to ran a hand over them, playfully squeezing as a grin formed on your lips. He chortled and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing each one of your fingers and knuckles with infinite softness and tenderness, before moving on to your wrist and the rest of your arm. God, you didn’t know arm kisses could ever be so sensual but there you were, turning into a puddle under his soft lips. Your eyes were shining with adoration for this man, your brain solely focused on him, who was giving your body his undivided attention. He helped you sit up and made you remove your camisole. Now it was his turn to admire your chest and your tits, which were already perking up thanks to your state of arousal, causing him to smirk. He had you lay back down on the bed as he took one of your nipples in your mouth while he pinched the other. You let out a soft whimper, relishing in the stimulation. The sensation of him sucking on you was absolutely heavenly and sending you into overdrive. You could feel your own wetness and your clit swelling by the second. You were squirming under him, so much so that he had to press his body harder on yours in an attempt to prevent you from moving too much. You were mellow under him, at his mercy. Not that you’d have it any other way, mind you. You enjoyed the sensation way to much. Your breath was heavy and, as seconds went by, you were starting to think he would make you come this way, just by teasing your nipples. Right when you thought you were about to climax, he let go of your breasts and went back to kissing you.
Marshall, you pleaded.
Yes, love ? He asked innocently.
I want you.
You were almost begging. The self-assured woman who was yelling at him on the doorstep moments earlier was nowhere to be found. You were nothing but a puddle, a moaning mess, his to enjoy, tease and torture. He looked at you as he ran his fingers from your cheek to your shoulder to your hip. The trace of his touch was almost leaving a burning sensation. You were craving for more but, at the same time, you relished the softness of it. Your usual lovemaking sessions had always been passionate but this was something else. It was torrid but equally gentle. He was not claiming your body like he usually did. He was enjoying it like one relishes something they know for a fact is theirs. He slowly removed your silk shorts, leaving you bare while he was still wearing his half-dressed. He smiled at the view of your naked body, devouring you with his eyes. You could see the sheer adoration o his face, showing you how he really meant it when he said you were the only one he wanted. For a split second, you locked eyes, his piercing blue gaze staring into your soul. He kissed your lips, your neck, the valley between your breasts, your stomach and your soaking wet pussy. It was wet and glistening, and there was no doubt that he could see. He chuckled and his warm breath against this area sent more shivers down your spine. Unable to control yourself, you let out one more whine and he took it as his cue to start teasing you with his mouth. His expert tongue was flicking against your clit and you let out a guttural moan as you mindlessly ran your hand through his hair, maintaining him in place. He kept on sucking on your bud as he easily slid two fingers inside of you and immediately hit your g-spot, causing you to gasp at how incredible it felt. You tried sitting up but his free hand went straight to your chest to maintain you in a laying position. His movements accelerated and you were soon bucking your hips, curling your toes, your release being imminent. But, much to your dismay, he stopped just as you were about to reach your climax. You were almost on the verge of tears, the denial being too much for you to handle.
Please, you begged. I-I need…
I want to be inside of you, babe, he said softly.
He quickly removed his jeans, socks and boxers and you stared shamelessly at his naked body. He was fully erect and you were almost foaming at the mouth. His perfect chest, his abs, his dick… All of him seemed carved in marble. Seeing your expression put a smirk on his face. He knew full well the effect he had on you and he enjoyed it. He stood there for a couple of seconds while the two of you admired each other’s nakedness. The sheer admiration in his gaze made you forget about everything that ever made you feel self-conscious : the scar on your knee - inherited from a scooter fall, your stomach that wasn’t as flat as you wanted it to be, the stretch marks on the size of your breasts… In his eyes, they disappeared and you felt like a goddess. Fitting, seeing as he was your own personal deity, with a body you’d worship day and night if you had the opportunity. Still staring at you, he opened the drawer in your nightstand and grabbed a condom. You spread your legs a little more and he laid on top of you, kissing you as he positioned himself at your entrance, after putting the rubber on. The two of you had done it countless times but the sensation of him entering you never failed to make you gasp. It wasn’t pain or surprise, more so a form of relief. You let out a small moan as he moved further inside of you, the position allowing you to take a good look at him. His eyes were half-closed and you could tell he was focusing on the sensation of how you felt around him. He stood still for a second before starting to thrust in you, slowly yet precisely. You put a hand behind his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. Your mouths crashed on each other and you kissed him violently, hungrily. You couldn’t wait any longer : you needed him. All of him. You wanted him to claim you, possess you, mark you as his… As if he could read your mind, he immediately picked up the face, keeping on kissing you. He was pounding into you and you put up a fight with yourself not to scream his name. You took it out on his back instead, scratching violently - not thinking about the marks that would undoubtedly be there the next day. He loved the sensation, you knew it, and the whimper he let out was further proof. There was nothing you enjoyed more than his sounds of pleasure, he who was often so quiet compared to you. Your mouth traveled to his, to his neck, where you started sucking. His movements started to become a bit sloppy and you could tell he was close. You gently grazed his shoulder with your teeth, happy to be the one who got him lost in his own pleasure.
Y/N, he warned.
Come for me, you said softly.
You first, he said firmly.
He caught you by surprise and, in the matter of one second and two movements, you were on top, straddling him. You would almost be mad at the ease with which he managed to flip you around if it didn’t feel so good. He knew this position was, by far, your favorite, as it allowed you to feel all of him. You let your head fall back as you enjoyed the sensation of him pistoning into you. Just because you were on top didn’t mean he was intent on giving you any control. The only sounds you could hear were your moans (yours being much louder than his) and your ski slapping against his. Lost in your haze, you weren’t too sure, but it seemed like you babbled something along the lines of « If you stop, I’ll die ». And you could swear it was about to happen and your heart was going to explode when he played with your clit with his thumb, while still pounding into you.
I-Oh… My-G-god…, you whimpered.
He wrapped his remaining arm around you and brought you closer to his chest, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. It was almost too chaste for the moment, but it felt good, soft and intimate. Your eyes caught his and a smile formed on his lips.
I love you, he said.
Three words. That’s all it took for you to come undone and reach your apex. Next thing you knew, you were collapsing on top of him as he kept on thrusting, chasing his own high. You weren’t too sure if it lasted seconds, minutes or hours. You were in your own pleasure zone, focused on Marshall’s heartbeat against your chest, the sensation of his fingers digging in your skin, the scent of his sweat mixed with yours… When you came back to your senses, you were under the sheets, wrapped in his arms, him kissing your temples, lavishing you wish praises.
Hey, you said almost sleepily.
Hi princess, he chuckled. You alright ?
Mmmmh mmmh, you nodded as you closed your eyes.
Am I forgiven, yet ?
Forgiven ? For what ? You asked, confused and all fucked-out.
Nevermind, he chuckled. Let’s sleep. I love you.
In the moment, you had no idea what you were supposed to forgive him for. In truth, you had forgotten all about the argument. The only thing that echoed in your mind were those three sacred words.
I love you too, you mumbled as you drifted off to sleep, a smile on your lips.
#marshall mathers#eminem#slim shady#eminem fanfiction#eminem x reader#eminem fluff#marshall mathers x reader#marshall mathers imagine#eminem imagine
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omg I've been waiting to send skz request 🙇🏻♀️ I'm an engene but CHRISTOPHER BANG is so hot so how about chris being your long time bff who you didn't have a relationship with but he is secretly in love with you for a long time and your boyfriend who was an ass cheats on you and breaks your heart and you go to stay with Chris for sometime to have his comfort and the loving gentleman he is he makes you feel so much better with little gifts and cuddles which ends up in you starting to want him sexually and who is he to say no to fucking you .. that's all ^_^ thanks
i'm an engene, but i'm also a stay so yes, this man is one of the hottest but kind and gentleman i could have ever seen, and he makes me feel so delulu like i want him to be my boyfriend🫠
pairing: bestfriend! bang chan x female! reader.
genre: angst, smut.
warnings: infidelity, breakup, mention of crying, protected sex, and idk. english is not my first language so there may be grammal or spelling errors. I wrote this without editing or proofreading, I hope it's not that bad.
words: 1.8K
--
all your friends had warned you; your boyfriend was a womanizer. but of course, you would never have imagined it while he continued to manipulate and deceive you with the nice words and romantic outings that you had, until he broke your heart by cheating on you with your cousin. so typical. years of relationship thrown away and you couldn't even kick him out of the apartment you shared because the bastard had made you abandon everything about yourself and move in with him, who was the owner of the place. so with a broken heart and your suitcase, you moved to your best friend who welcomed you with open arms. it really wasn't that easy, at first you just wanted to stay for a while until things "sorted out" but chan had told you that he would let you live with him as long as you wanted as long as you left your useless boyfriend. you weren't angry with him for that condition, in fact, you were grateful for it because you knew that the moment you decided to accept "taking some time" with your boyfriend, he would find a way to manipulate you into getting back with him at some point. so now there you were, single, depressed and with a broken heart, but in good company living with your best friend of a lifetime.
"how do you feel?"
that question made you come out of your own thoughts as you watched the leaves from the trees slowly fall through the window. you had been there for a couple of days, in your pajamas and with your mind distracted from everything, and chan couldn't do anything but accompany you so that you don't feel alone, so every time he had the opportunity to get close to you and be with you, took advantage of it to bring you gifts like candy or flowers, which he knew weren't much but your eyes recovered a little of that shine that he liked so much in you.
"i'm not okay, but I don't feel like I'm dying either. that's good, right?" you grimaced, trying to force a smile. he nodded and approached you, stroking your hair slowly.
"you'll see that soon it will stop hurting" were simple words but you felt quite comforted because he always had the right way of saying things to make you feel a little better. "And soon you will find someone who knows how to value you as you deserve." and he was talking about himself, because yes, your best friend was completely in love with you even before you started dating the damn guy who had dared to break your heart.
a few weeks later, you and chan were together on the couch watching a stupid romantic movie that had brought back many memories of your relationship and you had ended up crying uncontrollably in chan's embrace while he stroked your hair waiting for you to calm down. you were feeling stupid for crying after so much time, but you couldn't help it, you thought you were fine but it still hurt knowing that you had lost so much time and so much of yourself for an idiot who hurt you.
"i'm sorry" you just said between sobs and you felt him squeeze you tighter in his arms.
"why are you apologizing silly? It's okay to cry, you have to let it all out. anyway, I love having you in my arms" as he held you in his arms, you could feel how fast his heartbeat was and for some reason that made your heart match as a shiver ran down your spine after feeling his warm hands caressing your arms.
you tried with everything in you not to faint when chan came out of the bathroom with only a pair of sweatpants and no shirt and entered his room, where you were lying on his bed killing some time. it wasn't the first time you saw your friend without shirt, but for some reason lately it made you feel shy and intimidated and also, it awakened something that you thought was forbidden within you. he was your best friend, it didn't feel right to feel that he turned you on like that, but you couldn't blame yourself either, the guy was fucking hot, attractive and gentlemanly, everything a woman needed. he put the wet towel aside and fell on the bed next to you and only looked for the TV control when he noticed that you were focused on something else.
"y/n, pass me the controller that's on the nightstand next to you" you were so focused on your own thoughts looking at the screen of your phone, trying not to look at him and completely ignore his arm lightly brushing your body that was trying to surreptitiously get away from him, so you didn't listen to what he told you. chan rolled his eyes at you when you ignored him and leaned over you to reach for what he wanted himself.
"w-what are you doing?" your question came out with a gasp. that action took you by surprise, his heavy body positioning itself over yours and his face just a few centimeters from yours as he leaned further to reach the control.
"just taking what I asked for and you didn't give me" he moved the device in front of your face, but still staying in that position leaning over you. he looked at your blushing face and raised an eyebrow slightly. "what are you thinking? If you want something from me, you just have to ask" he winked at you playfully and let out a laugh. your heart beat rapidly and your thighs clenched involuntarily. he was so hot and attractive that every little action he did left you speechless. you couldn't waste that moment.
“i want you to-” you stopped when he stopped laughing and looked at you seriously, not expecting you to say anything.
“what do you want, y/n?” he asked. deep inside of him, desire began to grow when he was almost one hundred percent sure of what you were about to say just by seeing your eyes, but he needed to hear it come from your lips. “say it, y/n.”
"i want to fuck" those words came out of you almost rushed and chan wanted to jump for joy at finally hearing you say it, but he restrained himself and looked at you intently.
"want me to fuck you?" you nodded quickly. "are you sure?" he insisted.
"damn chan, I'm more than sure" you lifted your body and your face moved closer to his, almost touching his lips. "i have never been so sure in my life."
"great, because I've been waiting this for years" then he just crushed his lips against yours and kissed you with all the desire that he had been building up inside for so long.
he pushed your body against the bed and quickly removed your shirt revealing your body that was naked and covered by just your skimpy underwear. he looked at your body with lustful eyes, engraving your image in his mind for life and you blushed a little as you felt exposed, but not ashamed because you knew you could trust him and that he would never judge you.
"holy shit, you're so hot" his lips attacked yours again and you hugged his broad shoulders almost hanging on to him. he rested his hand on your abdomen for a few moments and then slowly went down until he slipped inside your underwear. you moaned into his mouth when his fingers touched your pussy and he noticed how wet you were. "you want this?"
"more than you can imagine, so please fuck me now" you asked desperately, removing your own underwear before he gave you an answer. chan let out a low laugh, lightly biting his lower lip and removed the clothes he was wearing.
"how could i say no if you're asking me like that?" after opening the drawer of the nightstand next to you, he took a condom and when he opened it and slid it on his cock calmly, you felt your nerves and the wetness between your legs increase.
"chan, please stop taking your time" you whined, pulling his body against yours as he positioned himself between your legs. he looked at you for a moment and laughing, kissed your forehead, then holding your body he pressed it to the headboard.
“it's okay, baby, don't exasperate” his cock lined up at your entrance and slid into you causing you both to moan at the same time, him holding you by the waist and you holding on to his shoulders as your knees bent upwards.
"come on chan, move" you asked, you were desperate for him to do something more than just be inside you. he nodded, removing your body from the headboard and pressed it to the mattress, he moved his hips taking a tortuous rhythm. you felt a little dizzy and your head fell against the pillow as your eyes closed. "damn, it feels good" you couldn't believe that this was happening, that your best friend of so many years was fucking you and you were enjoying it so much. that would never have crossed your mind.
"you like it?" his lips wrapped around your neck, sucking on that spot that made you moan and he continued penetrating you, this time harder and deeper making your head spin while you moved your hips against him matching his pace. you felt in agony as his lips were on you and his cock moved in and out of your pussy at an increasingly faster pace that at some point shook your body violently, your nails digging into his shoulders causing chan to moan and your lips desperately searching for his.
"chan, I'm going to cum- ah-" you moaned against his lips and he nodded quickly. everything was happening so fast but you didn't care because you knew it wouldn't be the only time.
"i was dying to fuck you" he moaned as he continued pushing against you and bringing his hand between both of your bodies, applying pressure to your clit to accelerate your orgasm. "but i was also dying to tell you that i like you and that i want you to stop crying over that damn idiot and be mine, that i will make you the happiest woman in the world."
"chan!" you whimpered as his fingers on your sensitive clit sped up to the point where you were about to cum hard. "i'm cumming!"
"do it, cum with me" his thrusts were harder and you reached orgasm at the same time, feeling your bodies relax and fall exhausted on the bed with your breathing accelerated. a small pause formed between you while you could only hear your breathing and feel the soft caresses of your hands on each other's bodies. "i really like you a lot, y/n, i always liked you and i'm sorry for telling you this and now, but I'm really glad that you broke up with that bastard and are living here with me" his chest went up and down as he recovered from his orgasm. your head was still in the clouds, you knew that his words had a strong weight that you would later have to process, but for now you just let out a laugh that he found reassuring and he hugged you around the waist, getting up from the bed and taking you to the bathroom to take a shower again but this time with you.
send me request for stray kids, zb1 and enhypen
#stray kids scenarios#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#bang chan#bang chan scenarios#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines
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What's x in the equation of love?
pairing: huang renjun x reader
au/genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, slice of life...?, a bit suggestive, college!au, roommate!yangyang
word count: 7053 words
warnings: cursing ☝🏻, yangyang, bad jokes, i really have no idea what this is, but i find it funny, personally, maths, sex jokes, yangyang is... a bit of an ick, one (1) smooch, fast paced ending because i don't know how to finish stories
synopsis: yangyang decides that you need a tutor, he can't take your whining anymore. hence, you're set up to meet the most perfect man you've ever seen. things tend to become more complicated than they have to be.
a/n: why do i always make my supporting characters so disgusting?
a/n 2: holy shit this took so long, but finally!! the strangers to lovers collection is finished! also, this is my first time not writing smut... which was... weird? but refreshing? i hope you enjoy it anyway... even though no one is boneing...
"I can't do this anymore," you sigh, dropping your pencil onto the squared paper in front of you before letting your head thumb loudly against the tabletop. The sound inevitably startles – first and foremost, but not limited to – your best friend, roommate and study partner Yangyang.
It's not like you're bad at studying. It's just that you somehow managed to slack off on a few courses and now your timetable is filled to the brim with seminars and lectures from different semesters, and it's honestly getting a little too much at this point.
"Maths?" Yangyang finally pipes up after watching your motionless figure hunched over one of the many desks in your university's library, staring blankly ahead into nothingness. As an answer, you just sigh again, sitting up and leaning back in your chair. "Why don't you get a tutor?"
"You're my tutor."
"Listen, I love you – platonically – but if you want me to tutor you in maths, we're going to have a problem," Yangyang motions between you and him with his pen while raising his eyebrows, "because I know less than you do."
"I can't believe you're doing this to me," you whine, maybe a notch too loudly because a whole bunch of heads are harshly turned into your direction, several squinted eyes bore into your body from different angles with death glares, and someone even builds up the courage to 'shh' across the room.
"Not knowing maths?"
"Yes!" You throw your hands up, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In response, Yangyang just grins, displaying his cute smile before he nudges your shoulder gently. You sigh. "I think I'm going to start crying."
"Please don't, that's cringe. I'll help you find a tutor, alright?"
A few weeks passed since your disastrous study session in the library (definitely not the first nor the last one of those) and in the meantime, Yangyang helped you put up flyers around campus looking for a tutor. Putting your phone number onto the sheet had probably been your first mistake since about half of the calls you got were pervs who, accompanied by a dirty laugh, asked if you needed to be tutored in "sexology". The other half had been a great mixture, a bit of everything, going from 4 invitations to 4 different "best parties ever" to heavy breathing into your ear (which you endured for a solid minute before hanging up to cry into your pillow).
Admittedly, there had been a few serious offers, but somehow they were not good enough for you, either too young, too old, too loud, too fast paced with trying to teach you the content, too this, too that, blah blah blah. Maybe you are just too picky, but would you admit that to Yangyang? Not in this life.
"What's wrong with him?" Yangyang asks as soon as he closes the door behind him, coming home to yet another person leaving your shared apartment with fast and angry steps, and an unreadable, but definitely not happy expression on their face.
"He has a dog."
"So?"
"I'm a cat person."
"With all due respect, but what the fuck?" Yangyang lets his bag drop to the floor so he can motion around with his hands weirdly. "You know you're not supposed to go to the pet shop with them, but let them teach you algebra, right?"
"I know, but trust me. He wasn't good enough for the job." You pout, strolling into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat which in this case means opening a bag of chips and sit down in front of the television to procrastinate and try to forget about the workload and unopened books on your desk that are slowly but surely collecting dust and/or growing mold.
"Could it be that, i don't know, you hypothetically just don't want to get tutored?" Yangyang catches up with you after taking off his shoes at the front door, looking at you accusingly which you only realize after turning your head to send him a sulky look.
"Maybe," you admit and just a second after, Yangyang slaps the back of your head tauntingly which causes you to whine. "What was that for?"
"You can't keep doing this. The next person that's offering to help you, you're going to take. If I hear another 'I can't do this anymore'" – he mocks your signature phrase with a higher pitched voice and odd body movements that remind you of a ship during dangerously harsh motion of the sea – "at 3am, I will move out."
You frown at him, an unuttered blinking battle happening between the two of you before you purse your lips in defeat. "Fine."
"... and I have just the guy in mind."
The guy in mind is no other than Huang Renjun, apparently, as you learn just a day later. Too bad that this information does nothing for you since, honestly, you'd never heard of him before. But hearing nothing about someone means that they can't be that bad, right?
That's what you keep telling yourself on your way to one of your favorite cafés where you're about the meet Yangyang and this Renjun guy in just a few minutes. It's sweet of Yangyang that he wants to help you find a tutor, but honestly, you would have preferred to wallow in self-pity for a couple more days, maybe longer, maybe forever and become a stripper instead.
Studying had always been hard for you, it's not that you're particularly stupid, you just have to realize over and over again that there are many things in this world that are way more interesting, that you'd much rather do than to study.
But maybe this is what you need, a final push into taking care of your life by a dear friend.
Finally, you arrive at your destination, ordering your drink before texting Yangyang a quick message asking about his whereabouts, decorated with an annoyed emoji. The answer comes sadly not in text form as you'd hoped, like something along the lines of "Can't make it, sorry, Renjun is busy" but no. Instead, you hear your name being called and as you look up, there's a particular blonde haired guy waving frantically at you from across the café.
You huff out a breath before moving forward, keeping your eyes to the ground as you make your way towards their table. Maybe, just maybe, you had dreaded this particular meet up and had therefore taken the longer route, and maybe you're a little late.
"Glad you could make it!" Yangyang greets with a fake smile.
"Shut up," you mumble as you sit down next to him, eyes glued to your cup as to not spill any of the liquid on your hands. Or maybe you should let it, it would make a great excuse to leave immediately.
"I'm Renjun!"
God, fuck.
You clutch your chest with your hand, admittedly over-dramatically. You had almost forgotten about him. Quickly, you collect yourself and look up at him, opening your mouth ready to introduce yourself too, but all that comes out is a weird, stertorous breath because holy shit, this guy's- handsome? Pretty? Beautiful? Perfect???
With a worried expression, Yangyang pads your back, probably already imagining you saying that Renjun could not tutor you because his perfume smells too strong, when in reality you'd kill – twice – to only get one tiny whiff of this man's fragrance.
Finally, you have grounded yourself, given Renjun your name and avoided shaking his hand successfully because he does not have to know how sweaty your palms are. Lucky for you, Yangyang remembers an insanely interesting topic that he has to talk to Renjun about, giving you the time and opportunity to study Renjun's face and everything else about him that is exposed to your eyes above the tabletop.
The first eye catcher would be his two toned hair that gently curls around his cheeks, framing it as if his face is a beautiful painting, which in your opinion, it certainly is. Next, you focus on his eyes that still seem to sparkle, even in the shitty light of the cheap café. He also has extremely beautiful lips, so slender, but at the same time so plush and full, so incredibly kissable. And his big nose...
A sudden shadow comes into your line of view, quickly followed by a quick, stinging pain as Yangyang pinches your nose to get your attention.
"What?!" You exclaim, holding onto your nose to, honestly, feel if it's still there as you look at Yangyang with squinted eyes full of annoyance.
"I've asked you something, like, three times." Yangyang chuckles as he pinches your earlobe next. "Did you space out again thinking about the amount of liquid a bladder can hold?"
"That is an embarrassing piece of information that I would have preferred to stay between the two of us." You grit your teeth as you glare at Yangyang. "And stop pinching me!" You hit Yangyang's hand as he reaches out to pinch your cheek next.
Yangyang laughs, "I'm sorry, it was my fault for occupying your study date for so long. I'll be on my way now. Have fun, but not too much fun since this is only maths and it would be weird if you had fun."
And with that, Yangyang disappears, completely ignoring your pleading puppy-eyes as he grabs his bag and waves, almost bumping into the waitress on his way out, apologizing profoundly before smirking, and asking for her number.
Now, it's just the two of you alone and with every second that Yangyang's gone the awkward silence thickens and your death wish upon Yangyang grows.
"So, uhm." Renjun clears his throat, sorting through his papers quickly before placing them down again in the initial order. "Yangyang sent me the topics of your maths course for this semester so I've brought some material."
You nod, finding it particularly hard to focus on anything but Renjun's perfect eyebrows, which is also the reason you can't really appreciate or be surprised that Yangyang actually put this much effort into something for little old you.
"I would like to make a plan, like repeating study dates, and I'd love to discuss the topics of each lesson right now so we're prepared. We can time it with your lectures and go over the stuff beforehand so you're prepared for each lecture. I mean, if that's something you want?" Renjun looks up from his notes, his eyes directly meeting yours and you feel yourself melt.
"Yes, of course." You're surprised that you managed to bring out actual words and not just a needy whine because... anything with you is something I'd want. You can do anything with me. Anything.
Anything.
"Great!"
And just like that, you're diving head first into your first study session with Renjun and you have to admit, he is incredibly smart and great at explaining, and, as long as you don't look at him directly or for too long, you believe he could really help you with your maths problems.
An hour later, you part ways, half bowing, half waving at each other, both still too new to the situation to be able to define your relationship and therefore agree on a proper way of saying goodbye, but so be it. The inner shame you're feeling about your awkward goodbye will hopefully subside in the next few hours. Or days. As soon as you turn the corner you bump into someone.
After an exaggerated intake of air, you glare at him. "Don't tell me you were waiting here this whole time."
"Brought my Nintendo." Yangyang smiles, waving the device in front of your face.
"Still weird."
"Did you really expect me to miss the first opportunity in my life of you telling me that I was right?" Yangyang beams confidently and as much as you fight it, a smile creeps onto your features as well because, yes, he had been right, Renjun is perfect at tutoring as well as every other aspect you've seen so far.
"He has a what?!"
"A girlfriend," Yangyang repeats, but it's so muffled by the food stuffed into his mouth that you believe you misheard him again. Or maybe that's just you hoping.
"A what?"
"Girlfriend."
"What?"
"GIRLFRIEND!!"
"And that's why he can't tutor me?!"
Yangyang swallows before answering this time and you're thankful for that. "Apparently. He just told me to tell you."
On the outside, you may have looked normal in this moment, just staring at Yangyang with an indifferent look on your face, but on the inside? It's like a whole world crushing down behind your eyes. In your head, there are at least 20 different little 'you's running around screaming and waving their arms around frantically, everything is one fire, in the distance: sirens. Why had no one mentioned Renjun's girlfriend before? You could've spend the past nights planning scenarios in your head about marrying him as you fell asleep doing something... something else! Something with a perspective, at least.
Of course, Renjun has a girlfriend. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if he didn't have one, but it still kind of stung right there in your chest, all your little fantasies that you've made up during movie nights with Yangyang vaporizing into thin air at the thought that he already is someone's.
"Why do you seem so upset by this? Could it be that you, i don't know, mayhaps like him?" Yangyang smirks, dropping his chopsticks to fold his hands under his chin, leaning his elbows onto the table to smirk at you.
"No." You stare back at him without a hint of emotion on your features. "I just need him to tutor me."
Yangyang sighs, picking his chopsticks back up, seemingly disappointed by the lack of crush you pretend to have on Renjun. There are not too many things you're good at, but hiding your feelings is one of them.
"Is something wrong?" Renjun finally asks you.
You've been sitting at your dining table for quite some time now and all you did so far was sulkingly pout and not look him in the eyes. Remember when you said that you're good at hiding your feelings? Scratch that when it comes to Renjun.
Renjun looks at you worriedly, clicking his pen thrice before putting it down on his book, your eyes following his every movement until you finally look up into his eyes. "Are you mad because I raised my voice when I told you to take the square root for the n-th time? Because if-"
"No, it's not that. There's just a lot on my mind lately." You sigh, eyes going back to the sheet of paper in front of you as you fiddle around with your pen almost nervously.
"You can always talk to me, you know?" Renjun finally says after you've been pretending to work on your task for quite some time. You raise your eyebrows simultaneously with your head to look at him in disbelief. "If you want to, of course..."
"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that..." You mumble, hoping he would not hear it, but apparently, Renjun's ears are extraordinarily intact and a tiny smile tucks at the corners of his mouth. You watch him as he leans back in his chair, closing his book to symbolize the ending of this study session, though his pen is still stuck in between the pages, bulging through the thin pages and the wobbly cover.
Renjun sighs, seemingly in deep thought about what to tell you next and a tiny wave of anxiety washes over you at the thought that maybe you've just given away your slowly but surely forming crush on him, and scared him away.
"I don't-" Renjun takes a deep breath, "I don't care what she thinks."
Your eyebrows shoot upwards at the speed of light. Out of all the possible answers in this scenario, this would've been your last guess. What's that even supposed to mean? Your surprise at his words seem to be showing on your face since Renjun leans forward onto his forearms, minimizing the space in between the two of you.
"Look..." He begins, but seems to be in trouble about how to put his situation into words. "Let's just say, it's not going too well. Let's leave it at that."
You nod understandingly, briefly licking over your lower lip, averting your eyes away from his form. To say you're not curious would be a lie, though you respect his wish to leave it at that, silently sorting your things as Renjun stuffs his own into his backpack. "I'll walk you out."
The next study session has you biting your nails in nervousness. Renjun seems to be in an exceptionally bad mood today, and he has no problem raising his voice at you every time you make an unnecessary mistake. You try your best to ignore the way that's making you feel, given the mood he's in, but you try to remember that feeling for the next time you're alone.
"What's up with you today?"
Renjun huffs, leaning back in his chair to fiddle with his fingers in his lap. He looks kind of cute like that, you have to admit, but you keep that thought to yourself for obvious reasons, instead taking a sip of your water to hide the small smile forming on your face.
"We broke up."
You spit the water out all over the table, wetting a few of your work sheets in the process. Renjun, unfazed by your sudden fountain imitation, just sighs, eyes trained on his hands as you try to dry all of the wet stains on the wooden and papery surfaces with tissues.
"It's not like I'm not glad about the decision, it's just that... I was so used to her presence in my life," Renjun continues as if you didn't just spit a few droplets onto his pants, "the circumstances for our break-up were also... unfortunate."
"I'm so sorry," you say, a squelching flapping sound of the soaked glob of tissues hitting the ground next to the garbage can accompanying your words as you reach out to gently pad his forearm. You notice the way his eyes focus on the exact spot where you touch him.
Quickly, you retort your hand, suddenly feeling like that had just been the worst decision of your life, but Renjun grabs your wrist before you pull it out of his reach. "It's okay, you can touch me."
You don't want to admit to the rush of warmth spreading over your body at his words, not even to yourself. It's embarrassing, he didn't even mean it like that, but it still gets you all hot and bothered. There are just many, many places and occasions where you'd like to touch him.
"There's no one to stop you," Renjun adds, chuckling gently as he refers to his now ex girlfriend and obviously himself. It seems like your silence didn't go unnoticed by him.
"May I ask... what happened?"
Renjun blinks at you, and for a split second, you believe asking was a mistake. But then, he answers, "It's been... not going well for a while now. We're too different, and I honestly fell out of love with her a long time ago. Plus-"
Renjun halts for a moment, before he continues, "there's someone that... made me realize that there are still many other good options out there."
"Ah, really?" You chuckle awkwardly. You're aware that if your friends were here right now, they'd all nudge your sides with their elbows, grinning widely in belief he's talking about you. You, on the other hand, are not so sure about that.
"I only met this person a few weeks ago, but I feel like... there's a connection. I mean, I don't know what it is, but I'm insanely attracted to- that person." Renjun scratches the back of his head, eyes locking with yours as if he's waiting for you to say something.
"I- can relate," you try.
"What if-" Renjun starts, but then begins shaking his head, "never mind."
You don't see Renjun for a few weeks. Every time, it's either you or him who has to cancel the meeting due to personal reasons. Yangyang is the one accompanying you during your solo study sessions, tapping away on his phone as you massage your temples with such force that you're surprised the you haven't rubbed any holes into your skull yet.
"Why isn't he coming today?" Yangyang pipes up, putting his phone onto the table with the screen facing down. You sigh so heavily and dramatically that Yangyang raises an eyebrow. You throw your pencil onto the wooden surface so hard that it rolls over the expanse of the table until it falls to the ground at the opposite end.
"I don't know," you say through gritted teeth, throwing Yangyang a stern look like he's a bird that just took a fat dump right onto the wind shield of your new car.
"Woah," Yangyang throws his hands up intermediately, mouth agape in fake offense, "no need to lash out on me like that, I'm not occupying your sexy tutor right now."
"Why are you calling him that?" You gasp.
"Because that's what you think he is," Yangyang states, nodding with a smile on his face. You sigh.
"I mean, he's not ugly," you reason, but that statement is enough for Yangyang to pull out his folder almost spilling over with collages and collections of white dresses, suits, napkins and bouquets to plan your wedding. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
"I think he wants you too," Yangyang sighs dreamily, folding his hands underneath his chin to rest it on top.
"Calm down, cupid, he just broke up with his girlfriend."
"For you," Yangyang sing-songs, dragging out the words as he finger-guns at you, "now we just need a plan to get you two to- you know," Yangyang motions with his hands and you're not completely sure whether he's trying to symbolize intercourse or solving an invisible Rubix cube.
"No."
"Yes!" Yangyang gasps offendedly.
"No! I need him to tutor me! Even if, hypothetically, he was madly in love with me," – you scoff to hide a forming grin – "I need his help! The exam is in just under a week, and neither him nor I can get distracted during these times of terror!"
Yangyang just watches you doubtfully.
"Believe me, it's better if I just study on my own. I can always ask him via text," you announce your final stance, waving your phone in the air to prove that due to the break-throughs of modern technology over the past years, he's just the press of a button away.
Yangyang does not budge nor react.
"What I'm trying to say is: do not get involved!" You screech, opting to throw a balled up piece of paper into his face that he doges with ease.
Apparently, your words mean nothing to Yangyang because just a day later he's invited you to the same cheap café where you had met Renjun for the first time. Too bad that Yangyang didn't show up. Someone else did show up, though, and it was no other than the complete content of your last month's dreams: Renjun.
"Where-" you begin, but soon realize that this is a set-up, and you make a mental note to strangle Yangyang as soon as you get home. With a slight smile, Renjun sits down across from you, hands wrapped around his paper cup filled with what you assume is tea, judging by the little label on a string dangling from under the lid.
"I swear to God, I'm going to kill him," you mutter, but Renjun suddenly puts a hand onto your forearm, your gaze burning into the pretty birthmark on the back of his hand immediately.
"Please don't," Renjun says, voice so soft that you have to pull yourself together as to not slide off your chair to melt into a puddle on the floor. Instead, you look up to find his beautiful eyes already locking with yours. "You need me right now, in these times of terror."
"He told you about that," you whine, face scrunching up in embarrassment.
"Yes," Renjun nods, pressing his lips together to symbolize empathy for your situation, that you accept with a sigh. Renjun does not need to know, and will never find out, that you actually will bury Yangyang alive in your neighbor's yard once you get back, or at least bewitch him so he never dares to darken your doorstep again. "The important thing is, I'm here. And I will get you through that exam."
"Honestly, I might as well just drop out. It's useless, you're just wasting your time. I should just become a stripper or something," you complain, fingers picking at your chipped off nail polish.
"As much as I'd love to see that..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing. I don't want you to give up so easily! You can do this, I believe in you!" Renjun fakes a grin and shakes his fists in the air. "Jiāyóu~!"
You grimace at the expression, but then break out a smile as well. God, you missed him. Honestly, when you're looking at him, all the motivation his pretty eyes contain kind of latch onto you as well. Maybe you can do it, but not without his help.
"I'm free every day starting tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me."
A mathematics-marathon should be the last thing to be excited for, though you still found yourself sleepless rolling around your mattress the night prior, a giggling grin on your face as you imagined the next 3 days to be filled with nothing but quality time with Renjun. Even Yangyang is surprised seeing you up so early the next day, making coffee with a smile and a tune on your lips, and even a 'good morning' – something he hadn't received in years, maybe not ever.
"Alright, all set?" You ask, beaming.
"Yeah?"
"Great! I'll go masturbate!"
"Why?"
"Because I have to be able to focus on studying-"
"No, why are you telling me this?" Yangyang whines, shielding his ears with his palms to protect them from more tmi, though you huff out a laugh before leaning in to pinch his cheek.
"Yangie, you're so silly! Anyway, he'll be here soon, open the door for him when he's here, yeah?" You pad his head before turning to storm off to your room.
"Who?" Yangyang's brows furrow at the lack of knowledge he has regarding the situation. As if on cue, the doorbell rings. You squeak happily, then go to open the door for Renjun who stands there looking handsome as ever.
"Hi," he smiles, body decorated with a huge binder in his arm, a bag crossing over his torso and a small suitcase in his unoccupied hand. He looks breathtaking as always, and you almost forget to let him inside.
"Renjun!" It sounds from Yangyang who finally built up enough curiosity to sneak up on whoever just entered your shared home. Renjun smiles and waves at him as he rids himself of his coat and shoes. You can do nothing but watch in awe at how someone can look this enticing hanging a piece of clothing to a wall. Yangyang does not waste a second before wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders to drag him away.
"Where are you taking him?" Your brows furrow as you grab ahold of Renjun's wrist to stop him from going anywhere, ignoring the rush of excitement flowing through you at the feeling of his body's warmth.
"Thought you wanted to go masturbate," Yangyang bites back with a dirty grin. He always acts like a mess on mornings, but apparently it's all been an act, he seems to be able to throw you under the bus just fine.
"He doesn't know what he's talking about," you speak sweetly to Renjun, guiding him with you to sit at the table, but not before throwing Yangyang a dirty look. Renjun seems a bit taken aback, but generally grown accustomed to your continuous bickering.
If this was a movie, there would be a montage of studying clips with energetic rock music playing in the background right now. Of you chewing on your pencil, Renjun pointing at an equation in the book, explaining stuff with a serious expression and you nodding along. You scribbling away on a sheet of paper furiously, Renjun pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. You throwing your pencil through the room in defeat before placing your head on the table top with Renjun patting your shoulder. Yangyang on the couch deeply invested in his Nintendo DS, occasionally picking his nose. Renjun motioning his hands in the air as you squint at him and nod. You showing Renjun how you managed to solve the equation, but Renjun presses his lips together. You screaming, claw-like hands shaking in the air as hot tears wet your cheeks. Renjun standing up, his own hands in his hair, panicking. Yangyang munching on a piece of toast which goes down the wrong pipe causing him to cough violently. The sun moving over the sky before being replaced by the moon at a sped-up pace, implying that these moments were happening over the course of multiple days. You sniffling, wiping your eyes every few seconds as you write something down again with Renjun nervously biting his nails and pacing around the room. You handing Renjun the paper, your hands shaking, and Renjun's eyes going wide, a smile forming on his lips. You screaming and cheering, jumping up and down celebrating, the sudden noise causing Yangyang to jump and fall of the couch.
"I'm going to the toilet," Yangyang announces, "don't wait up."
"Okay, ha-"
"I'm going to poop! Jesus, have you ever heard of privacy? You guys are so nosy," Yangyang whines before exiting the room. Renjun throws you a questioning look that you do not see, only sense, as your eyes are focused on the numbers and letters on your sheet of paper.
"He gets stressed when a costumer of his Style Boutique isn't happy with the item he chose for them," you briefly explain.
"Oh, so that's what he's been playing for the past two days?"
"What did you think?" You mumble, tongue catching between your lips as you punch the keys of your calculator until it finally gives you the answer you longed for.
"I don't know actually. Good for him," Renjun smiles.
"He's trying to get to the platinum level at the fashion contests right now."
"Sounds dedicated."
"I'm done! Check it please," you draw out the last syllable to sound cute, and if your brain wasn't filled with purely maths, you'd probably cringe at yourself right now. Renjun grins and takes the paper from you. Going through the lines, he keeps nodding, and you bite your pointer finger over your folded hands anxiously.
"Well, except that the answer is plus and minus 3, you managed to get everything right," Renjun beams, scribbling a little smiley next to your answer. You clap your hands in front of your chest, feeling relieved. Your heart beats a little faster as you watch Renjun flip through the pages.
"Okay, this one is really hard. If you get this right, you're definitely acing this topic," Renjun explains, the tip of his pen quickly drawing tiny little dots next to the exercise on the papery surface of the math book.
"I can do it," you nod and high five him before diving in.
While your nose is buried in your notes, scribbling away furiously, Renjun anxiously leans back. Yangyang reenters the room, locking eyes with Renjun who smiles nervously.
Yangyang grins, eyes darting to your hunched over form at the table, tongue stuck between your lips in upmost concentration, then back to Renjun, and he wiggles his brows teasingly. Renjun, innocent as he is, tilts his head in confusion. Yangyang stares at your form again, eyes widening purposely before doing the same while looking at Renjun, then he purses his lips to mimic a kiss. Renjun stares blankly ahead, still not getting it.
Yangyang groans silently before dramatically pointing at you with both hands, then to Renjun, before balling his fists and thrusting his hips into the distance between his hands, then halting and staring at Renjun intently.
Renjun blushes profusely and looks away.
Yangyang chuckles dirtily.
That makes you look up, "what?"
You notice Yangyang grinning and Renjun looking ready for the ground to swallow him whole. "Don't worry about it," Yangyang says grinning evilly before flopping back down on the couch, miscalculating the distance and almost tumbling back off.
Renjun gulps, you notice, and smiles at you awkwardly. You shrug and get back to calculating. Renjun is sweating, nervously gazing at Yangyang who is back in his Style Boutique, then at you as you write down something on your sheet of paper. Renjun notices the way your lashes curve softly, and how you slightly puff out your cheeks in concentration, and he can't help but recall the moment a minute ago, and what Yangyang was implying.
"I am sweating buckets," you inform everyone in hearing radius, and it's true. There are pearls of sweat running down your back right now, party because the next one and a half hours are going to determine the course of your enter life, and partly because, as well established by now: Renjun.
"You can do it," Renjun says full of energy, having woken up extra early to send you on your way into the exam, both of his hands on your shoulders, shaking you lightly, "repeat after me."
"I can do it," you say, trying to sound determined, as a bypassing student accidentally bumps into your arm as they enter the classroom.
"Yes!" Renjun nods, gazing softly into your eyes, his soft smile faltering a little as you gaze back into his eyes, your gaze unmistakably flickering down to his lips as he is standing so close. You gulp and nod, forcing a smile.
The awkward tension lingers in the air for a bit before another student bumping into you rips you from your daze.
"Maybe I should-" you say, clearing your throat, and Renjun nods.
"I'll be rooting for you," Renjun smiles, waving as you turn around and enter the room, sending him a last nervous, tight-lipped smile before disappearing in the midst of other nervous students.
Not really knowing what to do with himself, Renjun sits down on the floor across the room, scrolling on his phone and checking the time bi-minutely. He falls asleep soon after, and if he could see the way he is sitting from a third person's POV, he would be concerned for the state of his neck.
A loud smack on the top of his head with a playboy magazine wakes him up.
Immediately in fight mode, he takes the pose he learned in self defense class, but he soon realizes it's just Yangyang.
"Hello Romeo," he teases, plopping down next to Renjun far too carelessly for the solidity of the hallway floor, and Renjun halts briefly to worry about YangYang's tailbone, but he seems just fine. Yangyang seems to have no problems showing off his porn magazine as he openly leaves it laying on his lap.
"Hello Yangyang," Renjun replies briefly, forcing himself to look at the ceiling as to not lock eyes with a pair of boobs.
"What's ya fine ass doing here?"
Renjun vaguely gestures towards the closed door of the room you're currently taking your maths exam in. Yangyang's eyes follow his hand, grinning deviously as he finally rolls the playboy magazine up and stuffs it into the side pocket of his cargo pants.
"Waiting for your girlfriend, huh?"
"She's not my girlfriend..." Renjun mumbles, blushing.
Yangyang pokes his side obnoxiously hard, making Renjun tilt his body to avoid a bruise. "C'mon... it's obvious."
Renjun shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Yangyang was never one to be bothered by that.
"You like her, don't you? It's hot to you that she's as dumb as a bread," Yangyang grins, and after receiving a questioning look by Renjun clarifies, "a German expression."
"I... maybe I like her... she's funny and... sweet and... pretty smart except for maths," Renjun shrugs timidly.
Yangyang blinks at him, "agree to disagree... anyway! You should totally shoot your shot."
This time, Renjun blinks wordlessly, then after a moment says, "I don't think she even likes me."
"Are you joking?!" Yangyang shrieks, causing a few heads turn towards them, but he pays them no mind. "She's literally been head over heels for you since like 1947."
"We weren't even born then... my parents weren't even born then," Renjun points out.
"Dude," Yangyang comes unnecessarily close, "trust me. She's dtf!"
Renjun blinks, unfamiliar with the acronym.
"Oh my God, am I the only person familiar with slang? Is math really all you do?" Yangyang shakes his head in disbelief, and as Renjun opens his mouth to protest, to inform Yangyang that he, in fact, has various hobbies that have very little to do with maths, and besides, that math provides a lot of fun activities, like sudoku, but Yangyang stops him, "doesn't matter. She," he halts, rolling his eyes at the forced lack of euphemisms and exaggeration, "likes you."
Renjun does not seem convinced.
"Look, I'll give you my pair of Air Jordan 4 Retro Kaws Sneakers if I'm wrong," Yangyang says seriously.
"Why would I want your worn out shoes?"
"For God's sake!" Yangyang rubs his hands over his face, "why are we friends again?"
"Well, we met on vacation in 2017 and you said "on fleek, Chinese bros for the win," and you wouldn't leave me alone after."
"Chinese bros for the win," Yangyang repeats proudly, making Renjun glance around in embarrassment.
In that same moment, the door opens, revealing your figure sneaking out. With a glance at the time, Renjun immediately has a bad feeling about this. Not even two thirds of the time have passed since you entered the exam room, and from experience (of others, he himself has never had an issue with any exams), Renjun knows this usually doesn't end well.
You spot both boys sitting on the floor and step over. Renjun has never been more unable to read someone's emotional state. Hence, he gets up, preparing for the worst.
"And?" He asks hesitantly. In response, you shrug, informing them that you'll get the results an hour after the exam is finished. Renjun sighs, not a big fan of this uncertainty, but what choice does he have? Bribing the professor to look over your exam first and let him know whether you passed or not? ... that's not legal, right?
Three pairs of eyes are anxiously trained on your iPad screen in the middle of the table. Well, one pair of eyes, rather, since your eyes are fixated on how pretty Renjun's nose looks from this angle, and Yangyang is unmistakably scrolling on TikTok.
"Can you refresh again?" Renjun basically begs, gaze catching yours. He looks so distressed that it seemed as if he was waiting for his own results to come in. Well, in a way, he is.
Just as the clock strikes, you refresh the page, and a new email shows up. You gulp, glancing at Renjun who seems to be sweating buckets as he picks at his cuticles anxiously. Even Yangyang has abandoned his phone on the table, watching with interest. Hesitantly, your finger hovers over the email.
"I can't even look," Renjun brings out, covering his eyes with his birth marked hand. You take a deep breath before opening the document. A bone chilling screech emits from your throat, and no one is sure as to what that means.
Renjun, hand still covering his eyes, shrieks, "what??"
You grab onto his wrist and pull his hand away from his face, grinning widely "56%!"
It takes a moment to register in Renjun's brain, but then his jaw drops, the corners of his mouth pulling into a huge grin, "56%!!"
Confused, Yangyang watches. 56% isn't really that much...
"You did is!" Renjun cheers, getting up at the same time as you, wrapping his arms around your waist without even thinking and spinning you around happily.
"We did it!" You correct him with a happy grin, cheering along with him as you celebrate. Yangyang raises a skeptical brow, but his face contorts in slight amusement. The according to Yangyang slightly cringe celebration goes on for a good while before you seem to be calming down.
Renjun's eyes gaze deeply into yours, "I told you you could do it..."
"This was mostly your work, honestly..." you whisper back, gulping a little as you shamelessly stare at his lips, watching has his tongue wets them, Another quick look into Renjun's eyes and your lips crash into each other, hands frantically pulling the other close.
"Oh wow," Yangyang comments, shocked, but not surprised, grinning dirtily as he pats himself on the shoulder, fully convinced that he is to take full credit for this.
Renjun's lips feel so soft and perfect against yours that you fear you will lose consciousness if this continues on for much longer – not that you mind. It's as if all these weeks of pining, dreaming and wishing were not in vain. Completely tuning out Yangyang's speech about how he knew all along, you and Renjun lose yourselves in your own little world, tongues too shy to dart out just yet.
You finally part after a bit, slowly opening your eyes to stare at each other with what could only be described as the beginning of a love that will bloom beautifully. Renjun clears his throat awkwardly, but he can't help but smile softly as you gulp and timidly bite your lip.
"So..." Yangyang announces, snapping you out of your trances and making you both look at him, "when can we expect babies?"
"Yangyang..." Renjun groans defeatedly, and you grab your slipper off your foot to hit Yangyang with it, who laughs menacingly as he tumbles off his chair and takes off into his room, but not without another comment, "name one after me!"
© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
#renjun#huang renjun#renjun fluff#renjun fic#kpop#smut#nct#kpop smut#nct fanfic#fem reader#nct dream#nct x reader#neohub
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Miami GP 2
Part 2 - THE WIN!
Part 1 link
Summary - finally the win!
Warnings - unprotected sex, p in v, swearing
Finally, it was race day. Your alarm woke you up at 6.30am. As much as you were excited for the day, you were exhausted. Physically and mentally. All thanks to a certain Lando Norris. Physically, last night was filled with rough but passionate sex - the best kind before race day. It really got the adrenaline going for Lando so he always went all-out with pre race sex. He really worked a number on your last night. Mentally, because if the two of you weren't having sex, things were not as great as they were before. No more lingering looks or touches, or even just fooling around. You barely knew what to say to each other or how to act around each other. It was getting frustrating to be honest. You wished you could tell Lando how you felt but were too scared to hear him brush off the mere thought of being something more than fwb with him. You heart ached as you watched him leave you room, yet again, after round 3 last night. But you needed to tell them - lay all your cards on the table and see where is head was at. It was becoming too much.
You spent the first half of the day with the F1 Academy girlies. It was so much fun and refreshing. And by 2pm you made your way to the Mclaren garage - where you would be watching the race from.
Lando had texted you saying he wanted to see you before the race, so you quickly made your way to his drivers' room and knocked on the door.
''Come in'' he yelled.
''Hey Lan'' you said as you walked in and shut the door behind you.
''Hey you, how was your morning?'' he asked, still looking down at his phone. But when he looked up and saw what you were wearing, his mouth fell agape.
''It was really good. Its incredible what's happening with the F1 Academy'' you said as you sat down next to him.
But he wasn't listening to you. He was still staring at your body.
''Lan'' you laughed, clicking your fingers in front of his face. ''Eyes up here'' you cooed.
''Huh? Shit sorry'' he apologized. ''You just look so good in that skirt and top, fuck'' he said, biting his lower lip.
Hearing that, or rather seeing him bite his lip made you clench your thighs together. Within seconds he was pulling you onto his lap and kissing you senseless, hands roaming you body, eventually settling at your ass.
You started moaning into the kiss, not getting enough of him, while his tongue found its way through your open lips. ''Hmmm, you taste so good'' he murmured. It quickly was getting hotter by the second. Lando's hands shimmied up your skirt to found that yet again you were wearing no panties.
''No panties, again, Y/N?'' he asked. ''And already dripping wet for me as if I didn't get you off enough last night'' he smirked into the kiss.
''Shut up'' you smiled at him, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. It was Jon.
''Lando, time to get ready, hurry.
''Fuck'' Lando whispered. '''Wish I could fuck you here and now but you'll have to wait until later babe.''
''Be out in a minute Jon'' he called back to him.
You pulled back from the kiss and looked at Lando in his eyes, which were shining as beautiful as ever today.
''Good luck for the race Lan, I know you'll do well'' you said, pecking his lips again.
''Thanks Y/N, I'm sure I'll do well with you here as my lucky charm'' he smiled back.
God, it was infuriating climbing off of him with no release. He wasn't joking when he said you were soaking wet. It was like your cunt was on overdrive for him.
You both quickly made yourselves look presentable and gave each other one last kiss before walking out back into the garage.
You took your seat at one of the tv's as you watched Lando suit up and get ready to jump into the car to take it to the grid.
And what a race it was turning out to be. It was currently lap 52 of 57 and with each moment your hopes were getting higher and higher. This was it. Lando was seriously about to take his first GP win. It was almost unbelievable. But you had to calm yourself down until the end at least.
By the time it was the last lap and Lando was still leading, obviously going to win by now because of the 7 second gap between him and Max, your heart was beating out of your chest.
All the mechanics in the Mclaren garage were tense but filled with excitement in their faces. You just held onto the hand of your friend Lissie, squeezing her painfully hard no doubt, but you needed to.
''Fuck, Lissie he's actually going to do it'' you laughed at your friend. Tears already stinging the corners of your eyes.
And in no time, Lando crossed the chequered flag. You couldn't do anything but scream with pride and joy. Tears and smiles. It was the most incredible feeling ever. Being this happy for someone whom you adored so much. It was finally his time to shine. He bloody waited long enough for it. But you were so proud you could burst.
Cheers in the garage, screams and laughter, it was an electric feeling. Everyone so happy that the boy had done it. But so emotional at the same time.
You heard Lando on the team radio, thanking everyone. Mostly surprised that he even said your name. He was ecstatic and you couldn't wait to just jump in his arms and see the smile on his face.
Quickly everyone started making their way to wait for Lando to get out of the car. You waited back, not wanting to draw attention. But Zak quickly noticed you and pulled you by the arms behind him.
You watched as Lando took his helmet off and wow, to see that smile on his face - you would never every forget that look. He ran towards his mechanics and threw himself into their arms, crowd surfing them.
And when you saw how he hugged Zak and Andrea, your heart clenched. You were so proud at how proud they were of him. Everyone absolutely adored him.
It was when his eyes locked onto yours that you felt all the air leave your lungs. He gave you the brightest smile you had seen all day and you couldn't help but lunge yourself forward in his arms.
Pulling him impossibly closer and playing with his curls that were filled with sweat - but you didn't care.
''You did it, Lando! I'm so fucking happy for you. Fuck'' you whispered in his ear.
''Y/N, I did it!'' he giggled, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself.
He gave you a kiss on the cheek before he was being pulled away for an interview.
''See you in a bit in my drivers' room'' he told you quickly.
''Have fun on the podium babe'' you squealed.
Watching Lando talk through his interview then finally take his step on the 1st place podium was a feeling like no other. His beaming eyes found yours, standing in the crowd and he gave you a wink.
When he finally was given his trophy and medal you felt like you ears were ringing. Everyone was chanting his name. ''Lando! Lando!'' It was no secret he was one of the most loved drivers out there but this just put into perspective just how much people loved him as a person.
And boy did that champagne pop go off like a bomb. His signature move, blasting the bottle on the ground to inevitably let that spray reach the sky. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face even if you tried.
As the podium ceremony finished off you made your way back to the garage, Jon had told you Lando had about 10 minutes until interviews were to start, and no doubt he asked Jon to tell you to wait in his drivers' room.
Sitting there waiting for him to decided that you would enjoy the night, and talk to him tomorrow. By now you were convinced he felt the same way about you.
Finally, finally. Lando rushed through the door and locked it behind him. He turned back to you, biggest boyish grin ever.
''Fucking number 1 baby'' he yelled as he scooped you up and spun the two of you around.
'Number 1 and only the beginning. Well done!'' you said, taking his face into your hands and bending down to lock lips. Teeth and tongues clashes, fighting for dominance. It was like you were both starved of each other.
''Ahhh I can't stop smiling'' he laughed into the kiss.
''Don't stop'' you told him. ''Never looked better Lan, keep smiling and shining'' you said as you felt your tears of happiness start to creep up again.
''Fuck baby don't cry'' he told you, a worried look on his face.
''Can't Lan, I'm so fucking happy. You deserve this and so much more. I'm just glad I could be here to witness it'' you gushed at him.
''I wouldn't have it any other way. Told you you were my lucky charm'' he said, bringing his lips to yours once again.
Until Jon knocked at the door again and called Lando for his interviews.
''See you in a bit'' he said kissing you one last time.
You were all due to fly back to England tonight, but there was no way that was happening, and you eventually learned that all flights had been rescheduled to tomorrow so Lando could celebrate with you all.
By the time interviews and everything was done, it was time to go back to the hotel and get ready for a dinner and then clubbing, obviously.
You really wanted to make an impression so you chose your best mini dress. Black, tight, barely holding your boobs in, lacey and skimpy. You know you looked hot in it.
When you opened the door to Lando his eyes were stuck on you. Mouth open in awe. He looked like he wanted to ravish you right there and then. All you could do was laugh and pull him in your room. You still had a few minutes until you had to go down to leave for dinner so you quickly pushed hum to sit down on the couch and straddle him.
Lando grabbed your waist and pushed your ass against his already hard crotch.
''Grand prix winner'' you whispered as you started nibbling on his neck.
He smiled. ''Remind me to win next time so I get to see you wear something as sexy as this again'' he winked at your.
Again, you heart clenched. This time with hope because he indirectly told you that you'd be there with him the next time you won. But also with fear of your situation-ship ending before then.
But tonight was about celebrating, so you weren't going to let the negative thoughts take over. You kissed Lando deep and hard and started grinding down on him when his phone rang.
''Fuck we need to go'' he whispered as he pulled you in for one last suck of your tongue.
Dinner was filled with delicious food, expensive wine and lots of tears and laughs from speeches. You were sat next to Lando and his hand stayed on your thigh all throughout dinner.
Finally though, it was actually time to celebrate.
You'd made your way along with the other drivers and friends to a fancy upbeat club in Miami. The music was loud in your ears and the drinks were freely flowing. Lando, of course being the center of attention, but also being glued to you like a magnet.
At one point you were dancing with Carmen, Alex and Kika when Lando found you in the crowd, his hands immediately finding their place on your hips as your bodies swayed together. It didn't take long for you to start grinding you ass against his crotch, while he was whispering dirty nothings in your ear, though you could hardly hear him with the music so loud.
More shots later and his lips were tracing your neck. You wanted, no needed, to feel him in you. You couldn't wait any longer. But it was also too early to leave the club and not continue celebrating.
SO, you dragged him to his car and straddled him yet again. Pulling his lips to yours for a feverish kiss. He sucked on your bottom lips way harder than he'd ever done but you didn't care.
Quickly, Lando started pulling your boobs out of your dress. ''Please don't rip this dress'' you begged, as he chuckled. ''Trust me, I'll only do that once we get back to the hotel'' he smirked at you.
Your boobs now free, being massaged, tugged on, sucked on and licked by his every amazing tongue, while your hands pulled on his curls, urging him on. But it wasn't enough. You were already like freaking Niagra Falls down there, and you had to be filled, and soon!
You lifted yourself off him so he could undo his zipper of his jeans and pull them down just enough to let his throbbing dick out, pre-cum already leaking out of it. You gathered what you could on your finger and bought it up to your lips, moaning at the taste. His taste.
''Oh fuck. Yeah, you're gonna end me tonight'' Lando said as his hands found their way up your dress, breath hitching when he felt you weren't wearing underwear, as always.
''Please Lando, fuck me. I need to feel you fill me up. No foreplay today'' you begged him. And who was he to refuse that.
He tugged on his cock and stroked it a few times along your folds, gathering up your juices before sliding into you in one go.
''Ý.N, Fuck, shit, how are you this wet for me?'' he asked, as you started to pick up pace, bouncing up and down on his dick.
''God, Lando, feels so good, harder, please'' you said between breathes.
He immediately started meeting you half way, pounding into you, all while sucking on your nipples and pinching them between his fingers.
''Taking my dick so well, so tight and so wet for me''
''All for you Lando, all for you'' you whispered.
''Tell me who is fucking you this good'' he roughly whispered, grabbing your hair tightly and burying his face in your boobs, nuzzling his way between them.
All you did was let out a moan, but that wasn't the answer he was looking for. He quickly stopped his movements, bring you to sit still on his cock.
''Fuck Lando, I was so close,why did you stop?'' you moaned, trying to move under his strong hands but to no avail.
''Fucking me who's fucking you so good, making you feel so good?'' he all but shouted. You were sure if people were walking past the car they would have heard that.
''Fuck, Lando. You. Fucking Grand Prix Race Winner, fuck'' you said, trying to boost his ego so he's give you what you want.
He smirked at you. ''That's better.'' and he quickly found the pace again. Or rather, he let you find the pace. Riding him like your life depended on it. You felt the familiar warmth in your stomach start to build up. Lando knew you were close because your walls started clenching around him, almost painfully so. He bought his finger down to your clit and rubbed at it harshly. And that was all it took. You released, moaning and praising his name, legs feeling like jelly. But he didn't slow his movements.
''I know you have one more in you for now at least. Come on, Y/N, cum with me with time.''
Lando's slams into you were getting sloppier and sloppier by the second. You could take he was close as were you.
''Fuck, Lan, almost there'' you moaned.
''Yes baby, come on'' he grunted, and just as you felt yourself let you, you felt Lando's warm splutter inside of you. Now, your body really like jelly and he had to hold on to you, both breathless and smiling.
''Fuck, that was incredible'' he said, lips touching yours as he spoke.
''Uh-huh'' was all your mind could come up with.
''Can't wait to fuck you again at the hotel, have you screaming my name and not being able to even walk after I'm done with you.
The though alone had you already clenching your thighs together.
Lando's hand slipped up your dress again, collecting all the mixture of yours and his juices and bough this hand to hips lips, licking his fingers clean. ''Hmmm'' he smirked at you, while you watched with your mouth slightly agape. He looked so fucking hot.
You both giggled as you slipped your boobs back into your dress and fixed your hair, trying to make yourselves looks presentable again.
You walked back into the club, hand in hand. Something that didn't go unnoticed by the others.
Charles walked straight up to the two of you and smirked. ''The two of your are fucking, aren't you?''
You couldn't help but feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, secretly getting more adrenaline from being caught.
''Umm-'' you started, but Lando cut you off.
''Fucking, yes, but if you say anything to anyone I'll cut your balls off'' he smirked at Charles.
Charles held up his hands and smiled. ''Secret's safe with me, but I'm glad the two of you finally sorted your shit out together.'' he said as he walked away.
''Well shit, everyone's gonna know now'' he whispered to you as more drinks found their way to you.
The night was well and truly amazing. Dancing, singing laughing, KISSING, grinding, celebrating a moment that will go down in history forever.
It was now stumbling upon 3am when you found yourself in a taxi back to the hotel with Lando. To say you were both horny as fuck was an understatement. But the amount of alcohol you both consumed was starting to take its toll.
It started with a lazy make out session in the taxi, all the way to the hotel. You could hardly even walk by now, so somehow, Lando managed to carry you up to your room.
As soon as the door shut, it was like a burst of energy filled your bodies. Not saying anything to each other, your stripped your clothes off and threw yourselves on the bed, Lando on top of you.
He started licking and sucking on your neck, nose, lips, everywhere he could get his mouth to, while his fingers quickly found your cunt, dripping wet, eager for more.
He slid his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and bought them up to your lips. Knowing what he wanted, you took his fingers in your mouth and licked them clean. All he did was groan at the sight.
He returned them to your cunt and with no warning slid 3 fingers in a once.
''Oh God, Lan'' you panted as he was hitting all the right spots immediately, while his mouth was violently slaughtering your nipples.
You managed you find your way into his boxers, pushing them down with your legs as you took his thick girth into your hands, pumping him a few times.
He was already painfully hard, and within a minute he stopped all movements.
''Lan'' you begged.
''Wanna try something new. Wanna fuck your boobs. We've never done that before.''
''Fuck, yes, hurry'' you replied.
Lando pumped himself a few times before sliding his dick between your boobs, and you took them in your own hands and squeezed them together, tightening the place for his cock as much as possible.
He was fucking them so hard that you were sure you could cum just from the sounds you both were making. Every time his tip peaked through the top, you gave him a lick, earning delicious moans from his mouth.
''Fuck Y/N, tell me why we haven't done this before. It feels so fucking amazing.''
''So good Lando, yes, please'' you begged, not sure what for.
You could tell he was getting close by his sloppy movements and the look on his face, necklace dangling almost in your face.
''Need to taste you, please, cum in my mouth.'' you begged.
''Shit, ok, sit up'' he pulled you up and took a hold of your head in his hands, while you took his dick in your mouth straight way, as deep as you could, already gagging and feeling the tears coming.
Now he was fucking into you mouth so hard that you had to hold onto his thighs for support.
''Yes baby, taking me so well, blowing me so well'' he said as he watched you, definitely a sight for sore eyes.
He was getting close again, and you could feel your saliva sliding out of you mouth.
''Fuck I'm gonna-'' and before he could finish his sentence he was emptying his load to the back of your throat. You swallowed every last drop and licked him clean before pulling back to try to get you breathing to normal.
But he didn't even give you the chance. Lando lifted your body up and turned you around so you were on all fours.
''Better hold on to the head-board baby, gonna fuck you senseless now.'' he said. You could practically hear the smirk he was wearing.
With no warning he slammed into you at once, starting to pound right away. No time to adjust to his size this time. Just pure fucking. It almost felt like a porno. Definitely sounded like it was.
''Yeah, fuck, fuck me harder'' you panted between breathes, moans quickly taking over your words.
You don't think the pair of you have every gone this hard. You could feel his balls slapping your thighs, showing just how deep into you he was. And you could definitely feel him fill you up, hitting every spot in your cunt, so violently, but so pleasurably too.
None of you could form words now. Just actions.
You came without warning a few times, losing count of how many, and Lando was showing no interest in slowing down. You could feel the sensitivity and pain creeping in but you wanted to let him use you however he wanted.
As he was getting closer, Lando turned your body around again, this time you were staring into his gorgeous eyes, closing shut when he finally painted your walls white with his cum, crashing down all his weight on you.
''Fuck'' was all he repeated for multiple seconds.
Once again, your breaths were mixed, both trying to calm down and catch your breaths. You bought your fingers up to his curls and gently played with them as his mouth found yours for a slow intimate kiss.
''Thank you for giving me the best celebratory night. Can't wait to win some more'' he smiled at you.
''Can't wait either, Lan. You're amazing and I seriously couldn't be happier for you.''
Normally Lando would be up by now, getting a cloth to clean you up, but he stayed still. Dick softening inside of you.
You were so fucked out, from the long day the drinking, the fucking, that your eyes closed and that was you down for the nigh-or early morning.
You didn't feel when Lando slid out of you and cuddled you into his arms, not leaving your room for the first time ever.
When your eyes opened in the morning the first thing you felt was the pounding headache, which you expected. Then the memories from yesterday came crashing down, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
Then, you felt an arm around you waist, pulling you closer.
''Fuck'' you thought. ''He's still here and now it will be back to awkwardness when he leaves.''
But before you could panic or worry any further, sleep overtook you again.
Some time later, as you awoke again, your body was facing Lando's, with his arm still holding onto your waist. You were still so sleepy and confused, and then you saw him open his eyes, looking into yours with a big smile.
You smiled back at him. ''You're still here'' you whispered.
He immediately pulled you impossibly closer.
''Didn't want to leave you'' he replied.
You weren't sure what to say next. Shy, scared, excited, all of the emotions.
''Don't want to pretend anymore Lan'' you said softly.
''Then let''s stop pretending'' he said, lifting your chin up to look at him.
''I want to wake up like this next to you forever. Walking out every time was killing me, and I can't handle that anymore. I want to be with you every second every day. I want all of you, Y/N.''
By now the tears were slipping out your eyes. You'd wanted to hear those words from him for a long time now, and finally he said that.
''I want all of you too, Lan'' you said, smiling up at him.
''Be my girlfriend, and one day more than that'' he said as he pulled you up to lock your lips with his.
''I'd love that'' you laughed ''my very own race-winner'' you said, taking the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth as he smiled again.
''Fucking falling for you more and more each day'' he whispered in between kisses.''
''Me too Lando'' was all you said before he had you pinned underneath him, kisses going from slow to rough in a second, feeling his hard length between your bodies.
''I love your dick Lando, but I am SO sore from last night. Need a breather from inserting things down there'' you shyly told him. Because boy, you were sure you couldn't walk.
''Oh'' you said surprised, moving his body down yours. ''Just inserting?'' he asked, before licking a long stripe up your cunt.
''Fuck me'' you moaned.
''Oh baby, trust me, I'm gonna'' he smirked, before continuing his activities. He continues lapping at your clit, before adding his finger into play. Thrusting them in and out you.
Yes, the pain was bad, but the pleasure overtook it, and suddenly you didn't care about the pain anymore. It felt as if you had been starved of Lando for days, but it was quite the opposite.
''That's is my baby, doing so well for me'' he whispered.
When you came in his mouth, he replaced it was his dick. Sliding in and out of you, slowly, actually making love to you, instead of slamming into you as normal.
''Lan, I'm not gonna last long'' you managed to say, body already going jelly.
''All good angel, let go for me'' he said, nit needling to tell you twice before feeling your release around him.
He slowed down for a few minutes, then had an idea.
''Babe?'' he asked.
''Yeah Lan?''
''Please ride me? Wanna play with your tits.'' he said, unable to hide a shy smile.
You didn't say anything as you both shifted positions so he was sitting against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap.
You immediately sank down on him and his hands massaged your boobs before sucking on your pebbled nipples.
You set a good pace, not too slow, but not so hard so as for the pain to return.
Bouncing on him, moaning into his ear as his face rummaged through your boobs, not getting enough.
''Close again'' you mumbled.
''Together, yeah? he asked, breathless as you were.
''Let's do it'' you nodded.
Skin slapping together, sounds deliciously obscene again.
You quickly picked up your pace with Lando meeting you half way, both your thrusts becoming sloppy and messy.
In seconds your cum mixed together as you both released at the same time.
''Oh wow'' he managed to say, again pulling in to kiss you.
Words had long left your mind, all you did was lean forward and hold on to him, pulling at his hair. He was finally yours, nothing mattered more.
Safe to say the day was spent fooling around in bed, fooling around in the shower, and ordering in, not seeing the light of day until Tuesday morning, where you stepped out, hand in hand, ready to conquer the world together.
But who are we kidding, duty calls!
Thank you for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I feel like the ending was a bit rushed so I may or may not do an alternate ending.And more importantly - LANDO NATION - how are we doing? I'm still NOT over the win. Haven't stop smiling. And - enjoy these pics!
#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1#lando norris#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris smut
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Jason groaned as consciousness slammed into him, insistent, unwelcome and all at once. A too shrill beep. The familiar sting of stitches and scratchy bandages. And a warmth clinging tightly to his hand. “Fuck.”
“Easy, Little Wing.”
Dick, his voice at once distant and far too near, filtered in over the rest of the noise, and Jason pried his eyes open. Flashes of memories - of a confession - snapped into perfect clarity, and Jason’s stomach dropped. Shit. Shit, shit. Shit.
The cool rim of a glass pressed against Jason’s lips, and he allowed Dick to tip the lukewarm water into his mouth while his mind scrambled against the panic. When the glass pulled away Jason risked a glance to the side and found Dick’s steady gaze already on him. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got body slammed by Killer Croc,” Jason said, which honestly sounded better than having to ask his next question. “Did I…”
“Tell me you loved me?” Dick finished without inflection. “Yeah.”
“Right, great.” Jason closed his eyes again. “Any chance we can pretend that didn’t happen?”
The warmth around his hand tightened as Jason’s brain sluggishly realized it was Dick holding his hand, their fingers laced together. “If that’s really what you want, then yeah,” Dick said. “But I’m really hoping it’s not.”
“What?” Jason’s eyes snapped open.
Dick smiled at him, and it was an awful, weighted expression. “I don’t want you to take it back, Jason.”
“But you - you’ve never acted like I was anything to you, except maybe an annoying little brother. And only then because it was an obligation.”
Dick’s expression cracked with pain edging into heartbreak, and he dropped his head forward so the shaggy spill of his bangs hid his eyes. “You’ve never been just an obligation, Jay, and I’m so sorry that’s how I made you feel. You’re so much more to me than -” Dick cut himself off and took a shaky breath, and then he lifted his head and stared at Jason with tear bright eyes. “You’re everything to me, Jason, and almost losing you a second time - please don’t take it back.”
“Dickie, why? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Dick’s smile was both wry and rueful. “Jason, you barely come around as it is, and some days saying hello to you is like holding a hand grenade with the pin pulled. You barely wanted me as a brother. I couldn’t risk driving you away by asking for more.”
#jaydick#jason todd#dick grayson#crow writes words#no context snippet#just had a scene I needed out of my brain
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My poor, traumatized little meow meow.
#this took me so long to fucking draw omg#rip the owl house#the owl house#toh#hunter toh#hunter clawthorne#hunter deamonne#toh hollow mind#hollow mind#hunter toh fanart#fanart#I’ll miss that show#I hopped on it right as it was ending#thinking ‘oh this show won’t give me brain worms!’#what a fool i was#hunter the golden guard supremacy#I love him so much#my poor traumatized little meow meow#I hope you like this because this took me for fucking ever#art#my art
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ok dean's do as i say not as i do ass in the cassie episode when sam realizes that not ONLY is his supposed playboy brother actually a guy who will drop everything and reveal The Secret to the first girl who spends more than a month with him but . he will reveal The Secret at all, a thing he's spent the past six months loudly saying there is never any use in doing because we can't keep friends in this life anyway
#part of it is that he's very bad at HAVING these conversations so they never go well and he then thinks. well i know what to do now:#isolate myself forever#like you did that to yourself. we dont see the actual conversation where he tells cassie but you KNOW it was his worst timing ever#you just know there were probably half a dozen easily available alternatives that would've made it go better but he has no social skills#and he didnt use any of them#and she was like. ok this awkward odd guy who i took a chance on and who i really really like in spit of myself is just#making fun of me now. he's just playing with me i really had something invested in this relationship and he thinks we're a joke#acctually wait she does recount what it sounded like from her perspective and it was like this:#'the guy im hoping will be in my future starts telling me he professionally pops ghosts for a living' 'uhNOT the words i used'#i am so sorry they 100% definitely were. thats exactly how you talk#you said cassie i know you have to leave because you're graduating but i have to leave to go gank casper#and she's like be fucking serious . and hes like i AM pleaseeeeee believe me and shes like fucking incredible. goodbye forever idiot#spn#q
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I think I figured out the issue with tumblr eating my posts, but let's find out.
Take it away Mr. Gold
That's generous.
And the way hes sitting on that chair?
And the amount of force hed have to use to keep moe pinned down just like that?
Man is strong.
He's chaotic feral smile is so telling.
His interrupting is a rumple style feral giggle and it was horrifying.
He's had it, he's at the edge.
Okay so this scene? What he's yelling at moe? Dude you're yelling at YOURSELF!
"What are you talkin about my fault?" Rumple deep down knows. He knows he fucked up.
"You shut her out"
Moe has no fucking context to this non therapeutic beatdown.
Mr. Gold is yelling at rumple now, and since I'm sure masochism wasn't a big thing to air in 2011 that's what we're going with.
"YOU HAD HER LOVE AND YOU SHUT HER OUT"
This physically hurts me to hear, and I'm sure it physically hurts him to say.
"SHE'S GONE, SHE'S GONE FOREVER SHE'S NOT COMING BACK AND IT'S YOUR FAULT"
Maybe he ended up seeing a therapist after a millenia?
"NOT MINE, YOURS!"
Maybe not.
"YOU ARE HER FATHER!"
Moe still has no idea what the fuck Mr. Gold is beating him for some unknown child.
I love the fucking parallel of Gold beating Moe vs. Rumple beating the curio cabinet.
He's still hurting so much he starts to hurl the tea set.
But then he gets to that fucking chipped cup.
He can't do it.
#i can see why cane play is a tag for rumbelle#i hope this doesn't awaken anything in me 😳#too late#you can see the maniacal look in his eyes#whatever moe has taken (i know what it is as i type this but in the moment i didnt know)#was something significant#I've always gone for the bad boys who don't sit properly in any chair#whatever he took it has something to do with belle right? yes i know im right because i watched this 2 days ago but AT THE TIME I DIDNT#the interrupting giggle made me laugh#but also made me fear a great deal for moe#the last shred of sanity he had is gone#pot meet kettle kettle meet pot#gold meet rumple rumple meet gold#okay but the first time i typed “you had her love and shut her out” my phone corrected shut to shit#and i was like OMG#wonder if belle ever called rumple daddy now#rumple daddy stiltskin#moe's like#can i get a fucking paternity test for this?#they need therapists and rage rooms in the enchanted forest#he can't get rid of that little cup#it's just a cup#why would i throw a temper tantrum over a cup?#(well now we know)#and the relief the smile on her face#he wants to keep those#ouat rumple#rumbelle#ouat#once upon a time
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