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37-drc89 · 6 months

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the way things go; lee minho

❁ nothing warms your heart more than his presence.

trope: roommates to lovers.

genre: comfort, slight angst, work exhaustion, happy ending.

summary: finally understanding that your failure doesn't scare him away.

warnings: blood, mention of overprotective parent, family problems, let me know if i should put anything more in here.

word count: 3,7k.

masterlist

note: this is very much my first fic here, like, ever. i'm still green in tumblr, any links and mostly making posts look good, but i'll eventually master it. i look forward to seeing your opinions and things i can change or make better, i'll appreciate every comment. and, please remember that english is not my first language! if you see any typo or something doesn't make sense, please inform me! thank you:)

Coming back home on Friday after whole week of working your ass off really feels like a walk of shame. You feel like everyone passing by can tell how awfully you did at your workplace today. And they wouldn't be wrong, the amount of scolds your boss threw in your direction through past few days is worryingly numerous.

Whether it was missing out on paper work your boss asked you to do for him, because you were so sure the deadline was set on the day after, or accidentially knocking off of your desk whole cup of hot, sweetened tea that later on you had to scrap off of the covering, under the strict eye of the middle aged man that scared you so much. Especially with the amount of misfortune that chased after you lately, like it was glued to you.

Cringe makes its way to your face. You're shuffling your way to your apartment, not really in a hurry, feet lazily dragged after you as you didn't even have any strenght to properly lift them off the ground. You most likely look like you've been partying for at least three nights in a row, but you can't find it in yourself to care about it. Not now.

Seeing the building in which your apartment is placed have never felt so relieving and you can feel your legs giving up under your weight just at the thought of splashing on the bed and dozing off. Vision of passing out on the sidewalk doesn't seem appealing to you, so you rush yourself to the door, typing entrance code and walking into the elevator, stairs not even crossing your mind. Your tired body slumps itself against the wall as you patiently wait to get to the 6th floor, finding relief in having something to support yourself on. Finally getting to the door you can't help but feel excited, tapping your feet happily just at the thought of making up every hour of sleep you've missed this week because of your busy schedule. You slide the door open and the very first thing reaching your ears is eager meowing, three fur balls appearing at the entrance immediately. You can't help but smile, kneeling to give each of them gentle head pat before taking off the coat and shoes. This truly felt like a bliss, like you've just slid off a bag of stones off your back. Sigh leaves your mouth, heading to the kitchen you turn on the kettle as your tea craving grows with every second. Soonie appears next to you, sitting at the table just across from you. You've grown so friendly with your roommate's Minho's cats that neither you nor him have any problem with kitties occupying places people normally wouldn't let them sit on.

Then you freeze for a second.

You look at Soonie.

Soonie looks at you.

Your brows furrow and the cat goes back to whatever he was doing previously.

Fuck.

Minho is coming home today. He's been away for past five days due to his business trip, that was probably exhaustion fogging your mind enough to forget about this. He's coming back today. And your apartment looks like a bomb has been detonated right in the middle of it all. You can't risk him seeing how messy you got, Minho is always the one to put stuff at the right place, making his bed no matter in how much of a hurry he's in, always the one to do the dishes and basically make everything look perfect. You can't see him disappointed in you for such an easy thing, he'll think you don't even gather your life together. Not like you do, but it's nothing in his business, you shouldn't become another one of his problems. He's just your roommate and the only thing you share and should take care of is apartment that is now in complete mess. You can blame it on your lack of time, barely spending any time at your place recently, but that won't help in current situation.

Quick glance at the time, 4:23 pm, you reach out for your phone to scroll up the conversation with your friend to make sure how fast you have to act.

He's back in town at 5 pm. Could this possibly get any worse?

You scold yourself internally for letting this whole situation happen. But you don't have time to think about this now, and as you turn off the kettle you speedrun to the livingroom, gathering scattered clothes from all around the place. You blame it on Monday when you got up so late you didn't even have time for brushing your hair and of course, the shirt you were looking for was nowhere to be found. Out of all things, it was the one you needed that day.

Then you pick up empty cans of soda, bottles of water and cups of coffee from the table and quickly throw them into the dishwasher. You blame it on Tuesday, the night you realised you have to write that fucking paperwork you got scolded for missing on Monday. So you sat there for hours, head empty, taking breaks only when your tired tears started wetting your pages, scared that all your miserable efforts will be ruined.

Rushing to Minho's room you pick up blanket and pillows from his floor. You blame it on Wednesday, the day you were already on the edge of breaking down and giving up on your job. Even though the boy is only a roommate for you, you've grown so used to his presence you started finding peace in it. Even after the worst day you knew that someone will always be there waiting at your apartment to serve you cup of hot chocolate and bowl of ramen, to take your turn of folding laundry or just listen to how appaling your day was. But he wasn't home and it left you all to yourself which was never the best idea. So, seeking for at least tiny bit of comfort, you slept on his floor. That sounds so fucking stupid and weird when you think about it now, but just the aura Minho left in his room made you feel a bit closer to him. Reminds you of every time he invited you over to play some online games for 12 year olds or spill any tea that happened at his work. Though, you never wanted to interfere his private space, so sleeping in his bed didn't even cross your mind. Floor was just sufficient for you, and you let your tears flow that night, just as much as you needed it. You know he would understand. He might seem cold to others, but you know he would. He already unwrapped his side of him to you letting you see that truly, inside, he's softer than anyone you know; It's all for Soonie, Doongie and Dori. They really do get the best of Minho.

Going back to the kitchen, you gather empty boxes of instant ramen, snacks and every ready shop food that you could possibly find at the convenience store. You blame it on the whole week of rushing, not even having time to eat a proper meal. You can feel it down your stomach, body demanding anything that could properly feed it and give it any strenght to function as it should be functioning. Honestly, you can't recall the last time you didn't feel sick. Lump in your throat was your loyal companion since a week ago, constant urge to throw up not leaving your body even when you were falling asleep and you know you'll have to appreciate normal, nutritions food more.

You run around the apartment holding a wet towel, wiping quickly every mirror hung on the walls as you know nothing pisses Minho more than fogged glass. So you try your best to do it carefully, just like he does it. Reaching the last mirror placed in the front hall you eagerly wipe it, aware of your lack of time. Then it all happens at once.

Shitty food, lack of sleep, liters of coffee and ungodly amount of stress feel like kicking in all at once, like it's been gathering in your exhausted body for the whole week just for this one moment that you needed to be fucking careful.

Vision blurry, feet suddently tripping over itself, mind going blank just for a second, but second is enough for you to try holding yourself onto the small table placed right under the mirror and shaking it so hard when sudden thump reach your ears, followed by loud sound of shattered glass. You don't want to look. Because you're fully aware of what just happened. You don't want to look but you do. Eyes landing on the remains of now broken vase, water all over the floor, flowers that were resting inside it now cut in half and completely soaked.

And it was Minho's favourite vase. The first and the last thing he always glanced at when leaving or coming back home, admiring its beauty, pretty patterns, unique shape and the prettiest flowers inside. Flowers that he got for his 25th birthday that passed not so long ago from his dearest best friend Jisung. Flowers that he was so happy to receive, first thing he did after coming home that day was showing them to you, proudly, ranting about how they perfectly suit the room. And you ruined it all.

Your body slides slowly on the wet floor, water soaking your pants on your knees and you support yourself on the palms of your hands not to completely fall into the mess. You feel small pieces of glass ripping open your delicate skin of your hands, small streams of blood making their way to the floor, mixing with spilled water but you couldn't care less. Elbows start to shake under the weight of your body, shoulders tensing and your head falls, your own quiet sobs reaching your ears. It quickly turns into uncotrollable groans and whines, tears now flowing down your face with no end, nose already full, loose hair stick to your now completely soaked cheeks.

And you blame it on yourself. You could seek for anything to put his all on, like your boss, for making you feel useless for not even managing to do your fucking job properly and assigning you more work than anyone else in your department. Or your mother for not teaching you how to manage your time and how to function on your own, her overprotectiveness during your childhood and teenage years showing so often that you never even got any time to learn adult life before stepping into it. But you know it isn't their fault, no matter how hard you try to think that it is. You let yourself into this situation. You let yourself be in the state you're currently in. You didn't try hard enough to make yourself a decent person. There's no one you can blame but you.

Your endless cries must've muffled the sound of door cracking open, eyes reaching only feet of your roommate that was now standing at the entrance. You couldn't look up, even if you wanted to, you couldn't look Minho in the eyes. Not when he's witnessing your failure and the mess you made out of something so dear to him.

Meanwhile Minho stood there, body frozen, gazing at your tiny figure splashed on the floor, shoulders shaking. He doesn't even notice the crashed vase at first, your current state drawing all his attention immediately to you.

He doesn't give himself any time to think much longer about what's happening in his front hall right now, dropping bags he's been holding in his right hand and suitcase on his left and appearing at your side the second after, kneeling by your vulnerable body on the floor.

"Hey, hey.." Minho lightly lays his hand on your shaky back, carefully caressing it to soothe you. "Easy now, I'm here."

The only respond he gets is your dramatic, loud sob ripping out of your heavy chest. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Minho... Is the only thing you could get out of yourself, followed by another set of pretty disgusting, wet cries.

"Are you hurt? Let me see your hand, please," your roommate asked quietly not to scare you after noticing red coloured drops beside your knees. Gently, he took your harmed hands into his and studied small pieces of glass stuck in your skin. "Let's get it cleaned, okay?"

His hand makes its way to your waist and he stands up slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves that could put you in pain. He shuffles you to the bathroom and helps you sit on the toilet seat and starts preparing alcohol and wet towels.

You feel pathetic.

Not only you ruined his special item, something so important and beautiful, but now he has to take care of someone that caused all the damage. You feel helpless once again, like you couldn't do anything fucking right for once. Once.

Your caring roommate starts removing glass shatters from your wound, his tongue sticking out a bit from the corner of his mouth, fully concentrated in his task. He knows that if his hands twitch even a little bit, he might hurt you even more, and let me tell you, his hands are trembling. He can't recall a situation when he saw you in such state.

You always seem tough, tough against any misfortune that meets you. You surely talk to him when you need some shoulder to lay on, about your worse days and he's cautious enough to notice when you're exhausted. But he's never seen you at your breaking point, starting to believe you don't have any. Yet you're here, in front of him, not even being able to speak properly. He can't help but feel kind of relieved at the whole situation knowing that your hard, protective shell cracked a little bit, letting him see something he's never seen in you before. Weakness.

"This might sting a bit," Minho informs you as he presses alcohol soaked paper to your wound. Whimper leaves your mouth at the unpleasant feeling and you hang your head down. He quickly wraps bandage around your hand and clasps it between his warm palms.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that the hall. I'll take care of it, okay?" He tries to lower himself, kneeling in front of you, so he can get a better glimpse of your puffed face. You shake your head and straighten your back, looking at him with serious expression.

"No." You sniff, "No, I broke it, I broke something so important to you and it's my fault. I'll clean it. I'll buy you a new one, the same one, I promise Minho."

His hands make their way to your back, slowly, eyes remaining on you for any sign of discomfort. When you sneakily lean into the touch, Minho pulls your body entirely towards his, clasping your weak figure into his arms and sways you left and right, wanting to feel your muscles relax in his embrace.

"What's wrong, hm? My roommate senses are tingling," his voice muffles itself by pressing his mouth against your shoulder, "Talk to me, y/n, please?"

"I had the worst week ever here, without you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You just shake your head no, holding onto his waist tighter than ever. You feel him nod. His calm aura pulls you in completely, feeling like walking into hot building during snowy, cold winter. Your cheeks warm up, pressing right below his neck, his body warmth transferring itself to you.

"It's lowkey weird." You choke out, coughing right after because of how stuffed your poor throat felt.

"What is?"

"You comforting me while I'm sitting on a toilet seat."

You manage to let out throaty chuckle to light the atmosphere up, however, you can't help the warm stream of tears flowing right after.

"Want to move it to the livingroom?" Minho pulls out of the hug slightly, setting his gaze at your red face again and your eyes make their way to the floor. You still haven't looked him in the eyes, not even once, as you're scared of the wave of guilt that will follow. As if the one you're feeling right now isn't enough. You feel like a child scared to get shouted at by their parents.

Minho crouches down in front of you and you hum in question, brows furrowed. He only gestures with his hand for you to hop onto his back, already positioning your legs on his hips. You groan but don't protest, you know how Minho is and you know fighting him is hopeless. Wrapping your arms around his next securely and glueing your chest onto his back, you melt into the warmth of his body. He stands up, feeling your breath tickling the skin behind his ear and smiling to himself, noticing how it got much steadier than it was before. He leads both of you out the bathroom and again, the sad view of Minho's favourite vase on the floor, not really looking any similar to vase anymore, hits you, shoving another wave of guilt through your nerves. You close your eyes and rest your forehead on your roommate's shoulder.

"I'm truly, so, so sorry Minho. I never meant to do this, I was just trying to make the place look presentable for you and it ended like it always does." the words left your mouth as quiet squeak, taking another deep breath before speaking again; "Yet you still have to clean the mess I did, like you always do. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve you. I failed being your perfect roommate."

"Who said I wanted a perfect roommate?" he asks as you reach your shared couch, carefully laying you on it then sitting by your side, facing you. "You think I'm mad at you, but I'm not. I've broken like five vases in my life and none of this was anything I planned, just like you."

You finally find some strenght in yourself to raise your gaze and lock it at his round, dark eyes. And he's right, no matter how intensively you look into them, you can't find even a tiny bit of anger in them, they sparked with understanding and you find yourself feeling bad at even thinking someone this precious could get so mad at you. They were so pure you could see your ugly, messed up reflection in them. Before you could start thinking about this again, his eyes squinted a little bit as corners of Minho's lips curled upwards in the most beautiful, sincere, affectionate smile you've ever seen. You only realised that his hand was placed on your trembling knee when you felt his fingers caressing it softly, sending warm shiver through your whole body.

"What about the flowers? You loved them..." You turned around to take a glimpse of the mess once again but Minho quickly grabbed your chin with only pads of his fingers and made you look back at him. "I'll take over from here, you get rest now."

Just as he was about to stand up from the couch you grabbed him by his sleeve and almost agressively pulled him right into your arms, crashing in the tightest, breath taking hug as you truly couldn't believe you had him by your side. Just when you thought you crossed his boundaries by that sudden action and started to loose your grip on him, he dragged you right back to him like he was waiting for this moment to happen. His heart pressed to yours, he definitely could tell how fast and heavy its beating right now. Both of yours eyes closed, you just enjoyed this such intimate moment, very first one since you've moved in together. Neither you or him dare to make a move in fear of ruining this beautiful scene.

"Thank you," you murmur into his neck, so quietly you're not even sure he heard it. "only you can endure me as your roommate. How are you not tired of this?" Chuckle leaves your mouth but you quickly tone it out in case he responds, Well, I am actually tired.

"Because you're the only one that can endure me, too." He pulls out of the hug, though he doesn't move too far away, being so close to your face you could feel his minty breath on your nose. "I guess it's just the way things go."

Next thing your brain processes is his perfect lips landing on yours in swift motion. Suprisingly they're not rough, not even a little bit, they're so soft you barely feel them at first. Your heart goes up your throat for a mere second, dropping back down the moment he caress your cheek gently with his warm hand, now covered in the tiniest layer of sweat caused by the adrenaline. When your body finally understands what's going on, you lean into him completely, hand going up on the back of his head, tangling into his soft, dark hair and Minho takes is as a sign to continue, now pressing his lips onto yours with more force, making sure you feel them properly. A sigh of relief leaves both of your mouths and you smile into the kiss. When you eventually just slightly pull away from each other, faces still close, you notice new emotion making its way into his eyes, overtaking the rest as he studies every part of your face carefully. It's love. His eyes are full of love. Its so intense like it just have been freed from his chest after months of hiding in the deepest corners of his heart.

There's still so much you don't know about him and there's so much he doesn't know about you, but the gate has opened now and there's no turning back. You don't know what any of this means yet, but you can think of it tomorrow. Or in a month. Or in a year.

For now it's just you and him. And that's what matters the most in the world.

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hysteria-things · 3 months

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can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??

UNEXPECTED TURNS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!

was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO

i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)

*flashback*

‘pregnant’

you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.

a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.

you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.

“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.

you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.

he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.

chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”

you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.

he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.

he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”

he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.

his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.

you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.

*9 months later*

tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.

“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.

“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”

holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.

despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.

*now*

chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.

he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.

she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.

“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”

that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”

you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.

ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.

chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.

he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”

her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.

when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.

he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”

chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.

he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.

this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.

and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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eideticmemory · 7 months

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ALONE TOGETHER | SPENCER REID

A chance meeting on a dating app spirals into an odd type of…friendship? Relationship? Who knows, but it means a lot to you.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warning/Includes: Excessive smut, fluff, 7 year age gap.

You are so sick of crying. You are nauseated from lying in bed, staring at a ceiling fan that does nothing but spin. You’re angry. You’re restless. You’re impulsive. And it is this impulse that takes you on Bumble, but more specifically, makes you set you preferred range between the ages of exactly twenty-eight and forty. You think, I just need someone to pay attention to me. You think, I need someone to make this go away because I just can’t.

Old men are gross, but they like you. They just can’t get enough of you. You’re flooded with hundreds of admirers, but you rarely match with any of them. You swipe. You swipe again. Again and again and it is with the teeniest, tiniest little bit of hope that you wish for someone to take your breath away. You wish for a man with a pretty face and kind eyes and a name that sounds nice when you say it with a moan.

And there he is.

Spencer. Age 30. 5 miles away.

You actually gasp.

You swipe right and it is a match!

You gasp!

It’s up to you to make the first move. There’s prompts you could send, questions you could ask, and just down the street, Spencer, who has just landed back home recieves a message only saying -

Hey :)

He immediately covers the notification on his phone as he exits the jet. When he swiped on your profile, truthfully, he didn’t expect a match. Let alone a message. So in less than three seconds, he becomes anxious and flustered and cannot stop shaking his hands because he can’t feel his fingertips.

He waits until he’s alone to message you back. He has no idea what to say, no idea if you’re even still interested, but down the street, you are lying on your belly and kicking your feet and you get a reply -

Hi, [y/n] :) How are you?

It’s not a lot but Spencer feels like he’s going to pass out.

You squeal, cover your mouth and type: Good! How are you?

And Spencer doesn’t even know how to answer the question. It’s not a hard question, it’s not a trick question, but he can’t figure out what to say so he stays objective.

I’m okay. I’m leaving work now.

You furrow your eyebrows, A little late, isn’t it?

He chuckles under his breath, Kind of early for me, actually.

Here, is where you decided to get bold. You make the decision before you even figure out what to say. How to say it.

I’m sure you’re worn out from a long day. Was hoping I could see you tonight. If not, maybe another time?

And aside from the millions of things that rush through his head, that are always rushing through his head, the first thing he thinks is: Oh, god, I wish Morgan were here. Although Spencer’s a little mad at him at the moment, he knows Morgan would tell him what to say. But no one’s here. It’s just him, pacing the empty halls of the bureau, a satchel with tums in it, and a pretty girl trapped inside his phone that wants to see him in person.

He types and he goes back, he types and he goes back, and then he asks, Do you like coffee?

You smile as you type, I love coffee.

So he has you meet him at this coffee shop in town. You stand outside, cradled in a cozy jacket, your hands stuffed in your pockets. Spencer sees you before you see him. And anyone with common sense would’ve walked up to you right away. Except, Spencer doesn’t really have common sense. He’s worried that you’ll figure that out. Still, he walks over to you and you’re only alerted by the sound of his timid footsteps. You turn to him with a grand smile and he immediately forgets how to breathe.

“Hi,” you greet him, holding your hand out. “Spencer?”

He looks down at your hand and then back at you and then back at the floor and your brain goes: ???

“Are you…not Spencer?”

“No, no, I am. Me…Spencer, yes. I just…I don’t like to shake hands.”

“Oh,” you retract, hold your hands behind your back.

“I mean not that there’s anything wrong about your particular hands. They’re just dirty- Not! Not-you’re not dirty, I know, you smell really good. I…” he stops, takes a breath, “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually, uh, safer to kiss.”

You tilt your head at him for two reasons. One, because you cannot believe he just used the word pathogens in casual conversation. And two, because you take his fun fact as a challenge that is readily accepted. You step towards him, slowly, because with the way his eyes go wide, it looks like he might run away. He grips onto the strap on his satchel so hard that his knuckles turn paper white. He goes cross eyed trying to look at your face as you lean in. And with a tiny smirk on your face, you press your lips to his.

It’s kinda, awkward. Spencer stays frozen in place and you mush your face into his and he doesn’t start to lean into you until the last second.

His face has gone bright red and you smile and say, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice t-to meet you,” he stutters.

You look around, “What is this place?”

“Oh, um, it’s, uh, it’s a coffee shop. It’s also a library. It’s, uh, it’s open late and I come here a lot when I can’t sleep.”

“It’s cute,” you smile.

He holds the door open for you and buys you a latte and you two sit at a table by the window. You sit in silence for a minute, neither of you really sure what to say and then when you do go to speak, you do it at the same time. It cuts the tension and you both laugh.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“I, uh, I was just going to ask if you’re from here?”

“Oh, oh no, I just moved here for med school. I’m in my first year at Georgetown.”

“Oh! Nice. That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s alright so far. We’ll see how I’m doing in the spring.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

You smile, “What do you do? What has you getting off work so late?”

“I’m, um, I’m a profiler…for the FBI. I, uh…”

“Analyze criminal behavior,” you nod. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of that. I love forensic sciences.”

He can’t help but smile at you, “Yeah. It’s tiring but I like it,” he shrugs.

The conversation goes dead again and you sip on your latte, “Should we…should we just keep asking each other questions?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, I asked the last question so it’s your turn.”

“Um…” he ponders. “What’s your favorite color?”

You snicker and he instantly puts his face in his hands out of embarrassment. You giggle, “My favorite color? Seriously?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” he shakes his head, smiling, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Blue. You?”

“Purple.”

“Ooh, that’s a fun one.”

“I like it. Okay, your turn.”

“Okay, um, what’s your biggest fear?”

He raises his eyebrows at you.

“What? We got the favorite colors out of the way.”

He nods, agreeing, “Having nothing to show for my life.”

You nod, “Same. Your turn.”

“Why do you want to be a doctor?”

“Oh. You got me with that one. Um…because I’m not squeamish and I’m good under pressure and I want…to make a difference. Y’know, actually do something with all this ambition. Aaaand, I’m good with anatomy. I’m good with people. I like medicine.”

“Did you say all of that in your interview?”

“That’s two questions…” you grin.

He chuckles, “You can ask me two.”

“No…I told them what they wanted to hear. And admissions doesn’t wanna hear that you’re doing this for yourself. They wanna hear that you’re selfless, Mother Theresa, Princess Diana selfless.”

“And you’re not selfless?”

“That’s three!”

“Okay, okay, your turn,” he laughs.

“How’d you get into the FBI?”

“Um, about 8 years, 11 months and 3 days ago, I attended a lecture on criminology hosted by some members of the BAU. I…became fixated. I wanted to join. I wanted to make a difference-“

“Oh now you’re just copying me.”

He chuckles, “I applied and, uh, yeah.”

“That’s so cool,” you tell him. “So you’ve been working there since you were…22?”

“Yes.”

“How did you become a profiler at 22? It takes forever, I thought?”

“That’s three!” he laughs.

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger here.”

“I, um, I graduated college when I was 16. Had my Phd at 20. I’m…not the fittest guy so I skipped a lot of physical assessments.”

“16?” you gasp.

“That’s four!”

“20?” you shout. Emphasis on the ???

“That’s five!”

“Oh, no, nuh-uh, forget that, you’re filling me in on this.”

And so, he does. He tells you everything. About the eidetic memory and the IQ of 187 and you just sit there in awe. You fire questions at him and the last one is, “What’s…” you type in your calculator. “34 times 106?”

“That is a different genre of question.”

“But what’s the answer?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “3,604.”

You look at the calculator and he’s right and you gasp, “You’re a fucking genius.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Are your parents geniuses?” you ask.

“My dad is a…” he pauses. “I guess the colloquial term is deadbeat?”

You burst into laughter but quickly cover your mouth. That’s not funny. But Spencer is smiling.

“And…my mom is…smart. Yeah, she’s a genius.”

“Is she…dead?”

“What?”

“You just got, like, super sad there.”

“She’s not dead. She, uh, she has schizophrenia.”

“Oh. I’m an asshole.”

“A little bit,” he chuckles. “But, I’m-I’m not sad…she’s been that way my whole life.”

You can see on his face that it’s a sore subject, so you say, “Okay. Your turn. Ask me a question.”

And he wants to ask something that will get you talking. Something he can poke around like you have at his brain.

“Who is…” he starts. “Your very best friend?”

He asks this as you’re taking a sip of your latte and you very suddenly slam your cup down on the table.

“Whoa,” he says.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I haven’t spoken to her since I moved. Any of them. I…we…we had a disagreement.”

Spencer studies your face, “How many friends are we talking about here?”

“Three,” you spit out. “Three. I’ve had the same three friends since I was twelve and I’m not talking to any of them.” Your hands shake around your mug and you clear your throat, avoid eye contact.

Spencer feels so bad for dulling your light that he doesn’t even know what to say. He knows it’s an illogical guilt, but a strong and pulsating guilt nonetheless.

He watches you take an anxious sip of your drink and he sighs, “Today’s my birthday.”

You almost spit out your latte, your hand flying to your mouth, all of your own thoughts and worries dissipating as you look him in the eye, “You’re…you’re kidding?”

“No.”

“You’re joking. You’re just saying that to distract me. A psychology trick.”

“As of…” he checks his watch. “Twenty-three hours and ten minutes ago, I’m thirty,” he can hardly say it. “Thirty years old.”

You sit for a moment. You realize your mouth is wide open so you close it. You realize your eyes are wide so you shrink them. You stutter, “You’re…not kidding?”

“No. I’m thirty, and I…worked a case for days straight and…and it was awful and we were too late and…I’m scared I’ll sound self-centered…”

“And…” you encourage him.

“And…it wasn’t enough. The case. The chaos. It wasn’t enough. I hoped…I hoped it would help. That I would…that I would get so lost in the rush that…that I’d forget I’m having an emotional crisis. I don’t know how to be thirty. I don’t know how to be an adult. I’m a child progidy…I’m a child prodigy and now I’m thirty so, what does that make me? What am I now?”

The question hangs in the air because you cannot answer it. You just reach across the table, put your hand over his, and trace his knuckles.

He releases a long sigh, “I’m having an emotional crisis and I’m thirty and my-my team…my friends…my family, the closest thing I have to a family…they, um, they forgot. And it was…it was a really bad case, it was a really tough case and it was enough for them to forget. But not me. It wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets you take his hand in yours, your pathogen ridden hand, and he can hardly look you in the eye.

“Hey…” you whisper.

His eyes flicker up to you and he looks so sad.

You give him a small grin, “Let’s get out of here.”

He lets you drag him outside into the cold air and the two of you stand under the soft light.

“Do you drink?” you ask him.

“Um. No. No, I used to do drugs so I’m scared if I drink, I’ll forget to…not do drugs.”

“Oh!” you raise your eyebrows. “Okay, fair enough. So, no weed then?”

“I…” he laughs. “You do know I’m a federal agent?”

“Ah! So scary!”

He cackles, “No marijuana.”

“Marijuana,” you roll your eyes, “Okay…okay…” you look around and the city is asleep. It’s cold. Another block over, there are clubs and people fighting the weather for a chance to party. Spencer does not want to party. “Okay, my place?”

He looks at you, “What are we going to do there?”

“Have a birthday party!”

“I don’t want a party…”

You pout, look around, “Do you want a donut?”

He nods.

You grab a couple donuts from a late night bakery down the road and you drive him back to your place. He grips onto the door as you whip your car into another lane, his breath trembling.

“Dude, chill out,” you tell him. “I’m a good driver.”

“Good…in the way that tsunamis are good waves.”

You look over at him and your eyes lock and he smirks at you. It has you so flustered that you’re quiet for the rest of the drive.

You let him inside your apartment and close the door as you two step into the entryway.

“Okay, wait here,” you tell him, quickly taking the donuts and taking off into the kitchen.

“What? Why?”

“Just wait!”

He can hear you banging around, drawers opening and slamming shut. Things falling to the floor. You muttering, “Shit!” under your breath. You rush by him and into the living, so quickly that his brain can hardly process it.

“Okay!” you call. “Come in!”

He slowly steps inside, a bit anxious at first, but then he sees you and his shoulders relax.

You finish lighting the last candle and look up at him, throw your hands in the air, “Happy birthday!”

His face breaks out in this great, big smile and he can’t help but laugh. It’s not much. One single glazed donut with chocolate, sprinkles and candles on top.

“Three candles?” he questions, stepping over to the coffee table.

You stand beside him as he sits on the couch, “Well, yeah, three because three and then none because zero. Three zero. Thirty!”

He furrows his brows, “Actually-“

“Hush,” you cut him off, putting your hands on his shoulders, “You gotta blow out your candles.”

So he goes to blow them out and you shout, “Wait!” and his heart stops for a second. “I have to sing the song?”

“Oh, no, really, I don’t need the-“

“Haaaaappy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

He covers his face to blush and laughs into his hands.

“Happy birthday, dear Spencer, happy birthday to you! Mwah,” you kiss his cheek. “Now make a wish!”

“Okay, I wish-“

“Whoa, stop! What are you doing? You can’t say it out loud, it won’t come true.”

“Well, actually-“

“The candles are melting.”

“Yep, right,” he nods. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, makes a wish and blows out all three candles.

You cheer and clap your hands. You go to remove the candles from his donut and stop, “Oh. Should I? Can I?”

“You’ve already touched it. I think, uh, that ship has sailed.”

You take out the candles and sit down beside him, “Should I have picked it up with my mouth?”

He giggles and picks up his donut, holds it out to you, “Cheers,” he smiles.

You pick yours up from the table and touch it to his, grinning, “Cheers.”

As you eat your donuts together, you can’t help but watch him. “I hope this made your birthday a little better.”

He shoves the last of his donut in his mouth and the corner of his lips is covered in chocolate, “It did,” he says with a full mouth.

You chuckle and lean in, wiping the chocolate from his lip with your finger and sticking it in your mouth.

He watches you, chewing slowly until he swallows and clears his throat, “Is this…is this weird to do with someone you just met on bumble? Genuine question because I have no frame of reference.”

Your mouth turns up in a small smile. And you nod. Slowly, quietly, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a little weird. But I’m having fun.”

“Me, too.”

You look around, awkwardly rolling your next words around your head until you can say them out loud, “Do you…wanna do something that’s…not weird with someone you met on bumble?

His raises his eyebrows at you, “What’s that?”

You take a sip of water, eyeing him in your peripheral and set down your bottle. You lean your body into his and this time, Spencer is ready. You catch his mouth on yours and he kisses you back, even though his heart is racing under your palm. Your hand travels down his chest, over his tummy, and to the hem of his pants.

His breath catches in his throat as you kiss his neck, “What…what are you doing?”

You pull away and undo his pants, taking his cock in your hand. He whimpers and his body goes limp and you furrow your eyebrows at him, “It’s your birthday?” you explain. And then you kiss him again.

His neck. Down to his chest. Down to his tummy. And Spencer watches you drop down to your knees in front of him and he goes, “Oh, my god,” and he only says it once but his brain keeps going: oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god.

“Is…is this okay?” you ask.

But he can’t talk! He can hardly breathe! You’ve got his dick in your hand and he’s looking at you with these wide eyes and you look perfect and he’s just worried that he’ll bust all over you before you get a chance to do anything. So, he nods. He nods and nods and nods and leans his head back.

You smile and with a few pumps of your hand, his whole body tenses up. He grips onto the couch and struggles to breathe. Then your mouth is on him and he goes limp. Dead weight, not a feeling in his arms or legs or chest, just the warmth of your mouth around his cock, taking it all the way to the back of your throat. His nails scratch at the fabric of the couch and as undignified as it feels, Spencer gets noisey.

You bob your head, up and down, in slow and sticky motions, swirling your tongue over his tip and a loud moan burst from the back of his throat.

“Oh…oh, my god,” he pants.

You move your mouth on him and run your hand up his tummy, feel it heaving up and down in your palm. He nearly breaks a nail on the couch so he grabs onto your hand, squeezes it really tight and groans. The sounds he’s making are so whiny and breathless and sexy that you have to squeeze your thighs together before you go leaking down your legs.

His other hand takes hold of your face, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his palm a bit but you keep your pace, letting him hit the back of your throat, feeling him twitch between your lips. You look up at him and all you can see is the veins on his neck, his jaw clenched tight. His fingers slip through your hair, over your scalp and you hum, but just quietly.

The soft touch encourages you to speed up just a bit. His whole body trembles as you take the base of his cock in your hand and jerk him in unison with your mouth. It overstimulates him immediately and he yells out, gives your hand another tight, tight squeeze.

“Oh-oh, my god, [y/n],” he moans, and you squeeze your thighs tighter.

He doesn’t ever want this to end. And so he fights the fire burning in his belly with everything he’s got, but he knows it’s useless. You’re too good. You’re so good.

He lifts his head and looks down at you, his face red all over and his eyes locked on yours. He holds your hand against his chest, caresses your face softly and lets out these soft, desperate whimpers. His body tenses up, leans towards you a bit and his jaw hangs wide open with very little sound coming out. He gives you this look, maybe a little warning, and then he’s gripping onto your hair and hunched over your body, filling up your mouth and whining into the air.

You put your hands on his waist and keep him in your mouth until he rides it out, falls back onto the couch.

You tower over him, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and put your hands on his shoulders, “Good?”

“Yes. Wow,” he pants. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you smile.

He huffs and he puffs, yet he can’t seem to catch his breath. “You know…” he breathes out. “That entire time…I actually forgot I was thirty.”

You burst into laughter and put your forehead to his, your giggles mirroring one another’s.

Spencer fixes his pants and huffs, “Will you…will you lay with me for a second?”

Your heart melts a little. You climb onto the couch, taking a seat beside him and swinging your legs over his lap.

And you sit like that. For hours. Talking until it’s no longer Spencer’s birthday and he’s just…thirty. You try your best to convince him to stay the night. He declines. And he declines and he declines.

Then he falls asleep in your arms.

In the morning, he wakes up alone and for a one whole minute, he forgets where he is. Then he remembers you and he goes looking for you and finds you in the kitchen.

“Oh,” you smile, “Hi, you. Breakfast?” you hold out the box of cereal that you’re eating out of.

He glances at the box and then back at you and he stares.

“What?” you ask.

“I…” he trails off. “I thought…I thought I dreamt you. For a moment, I thought it all was a dream.”

You tilt your head at him, “I’m very real.”

He chuckles, scratches the back of his head, “And…and the…the…”

“Blowjob?” you laugh. “Yeah, that was real, too.”

“The donuts?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “All of it.”

He continues to stare at you, this soft smile on his face and you hold out the cereal again. Shake it around.

“I’m okay,” he chuckles, stepping over to you. “I should…I should probably get going.”

“Oh, but why?” you whine.

“Because I…need a shower,” he laughs. “And to brush my teeth and lay in bed until I get called in again.”

“Yeah, I should probably start preparing for my lectures this week, too.”

You stare into his pretty, pretty eyes and you set the cereal down, hold his face, “You’re not gonna ghost me are you?”

He furrows his eyebrows, “Ghost you? What does that mean?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re old,” you laugh.

“Stooop,” he whines. “Stooop.”

“Ghost me. You’re not gonna go radio silent? You’re not…not gonna act like this never happened? Like I don’t exist?”

And Spencer instantly thinks: I don’t think I’m ever going to leave you alone. But instead of vocalizing it, he strokes your waist and he says, “No. Of course not.”

And he really meant that.

The next time he got called out on a case, he let you know that he’d be gone for a while but he’d be back. And he’d really, really like to see you when he’s home. He tries his best not to text while working, but when he’s laying in a hotel bed, unable to stop thinking about you and what you’re doing, he opts for a phone call.

“Hey, Sherlock,” you greet him. “Crack the case yet?”

He chuckles, “No. Almost. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were home in a few days.”

“And then you’ll come see me?”

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll come see you.”

“Good.”

“What about you? How’s your journey to being a selfless doctor going?”

“Terrible. I missed like half of my lecture this morning because I blew a tire on the way.”

“Oh, no, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just hit a pot hole and swerve a little bit but it’s not my first time.”

“Oh?” he nods. “That’s…not good,” he laughs.

“I survived. I’m tough.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” you can hear the little grin in his voice.

You bite down on your lip, “Okay, tell me what’s going on there. Serial killer? Kidnapping?”

“Confidential.”

“Booooo!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Um, a couple days ago a body washed up on the beach and…”

You talked until you both were nearly asleep. In the morning, Spencer rolls out of bed and the lack of sleep hits him like a truck, but he thinks about you and your sleepy, soft voice and he smiles. He smiles out the door and down the hall and Morgan strides up beside him.

“Morning, kid,” he says.

“Morning!” Spencer replies and Derek eyes him because it was just sooo cheerful.

Derek bites his tongue for a moment, but is incapable of doing it for any longer so he asks, “Who were you on the phone with last night?”

Spencer trips over his feet at the question and stutters, “O-oh, me? Me? I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

“Mmhmmm,” Derek hums.

“No. N-nope, just the voices in my head.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Spencer comes back home on a Thursday and immediately hops on foot, on a train, to get to your apartment. You open the door for him and pull him inside, taking him in a big hug.

“Hi, you,” you whisper in his ear.

“Hi,” he snuggles into you.

“I made dinner. Pasta. It’s the only thing I know how to make, but there’s plenty. You hungry?”

“Yes,” he nods, pulls out of the hug. “Thank you.”

He goes to walk into the kitchen, but you grab his hand, “Hey, wait,” and you throw yourself into his arms and take him in a long kiss. He grips onto your shirt and goes weak in the knees, smushing his face into yours.

You step back, “Okay, now we can eat.”

He mumbles something incoherent and walks into the wall and you laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders to guide him into the kitchen.

The entire time that you two are hanging out on the couch, his arm around your shoulders, you can feel him looking at you. The one time that you catch his eyes, you lean in for a kiss and he is much more forward when it comes to kissing you back. He pushes his body into yours and a soft moan empties from your lips. It gives him enough courage to drop to his knees in front of you.

“Whoa,” you exclaim. “What are you doing?”

“I…well, I…I wanted to do this for you and I’m ready, I researched it.”

“You…researched how to eat me out?”

“I just want to return the favor.”

“But it’s not my birthday?”

“Is that a…requirement, or?”

“No,” you laugh, cover your face, “Okay. Okay, show me what you learned.”

And so Spencer disappears under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your thighs and grabbing onto the thin straps of your underwear. He pulls them off your legs and you chuckle as they fly off. His face flushes bright red and he gives you a soft smile, taking a deep breath before he leans in and kisses your thighs. You hum under your breath, spread your legs for him out of instinct.

He’s very timid at first. Peppering gentle kisses on your hips, teasing his tongue on your clit. Then your back arches, his face falls into you and all the notes and research just fall right out of his mind. He wraps his arms around your hips and moves his tongue in this rhythmic up and down motion that he can tell you love so he keeps at it. And at it and at it, stepping off with a sharp suck that makes you yelp.

You rest your head on the couch, licking your lips because they’re so dry from your gasping, your constant moaning. You grip onto his hair and moan his name, only twice because you’re losing your breath. His fingertips press into your skin, spread your pussy open so he can bury his face in you.

Your body starts to twitch and tremble, your toes curling into themselves so tightly that it cuts off circulation. Your voice is high and whiny, growing louder by the second. Spencer feels your thighs tighten around his face and he knows now is not the time to let up. He swirls his tongue over your clit and you tighten your grip on his hair, straining your throat from moaning so loudly. You try to say his name, one last time, but then your back is arching off the couch and your orgasm washes over your entire body. From the tip of your head to the tip of your toes.

Spencer wipes his mouth off with your inner thigh and stands up looking so, very proud.

“Fuck,” you laugh. “What did you read?”

He cackles and gives you a wet kiss on the cheek and then the lips. Immediately after, you push him down and suck him off and as he holds you afterwards, he breathes off, “Remind me to return the favor again.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Believe me, I will.”

The next few days, you two are inseperable. He spends two consecutive nights at your place, bitching and complaining and listening to each rant for hours at a time. He helps your study for your next exam. It’s not until he gets called out again that real life creeps in. It’s the first time goodbye is really hard.

You joke over the next month that he should just move in. This constant pattern of fly out, fly in, visit and repeat is a lot of run around.

“You’d get sick of me,” he replies.

And you hold him real tight and shake your head, “Never.”

When he’s on his next trip and calls in the middle of your lecture, you only step out and answer because a feeling in your gut tells you something is very wrong. Spencer never calls in the middle of the day. He’d never want to inconvenience you. But, today, it has to be you.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]? Hey…” he huffs.

He sounds distraught, like his chest is tight as he speaks and you take a seat on the floor, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I think I’m having a panic attack. I think…I think I’m dying.”

“What? What happened? Honey…”

“Just tell me something to calm me down, anything. Anything. Please.”

“Um, um, um, uh,” you sutter. “I think we should have sex.” As you say it, someone walks by giving you a dirty look and you shake it off, wait for Spencer’s response.

His breath has slowed, but just a little, “Oh…that works.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “You know, I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot, aaand yeah, when you get back, I-I think we should do that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“When I see you,” he says. “I know you’re busy and I should get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help,” you laugh. “Call me back tonight, okay?”

“I will. I miss you.”

You smile to yourself, “I miss you, too.”

When you hang up, you’re happy and giddy, grinning to yourself like a fool. Then you look up to find the same person from before, whispering with their friend as they watch you.

You roll your eyes and shout, “What the fuck are you looking at?” and you walk back into the lecture hall.

The day Spencer tells you they’re flying back, you start preparing. Shaving, showering, spraying on some nice perfume. You walk around your apartment in a silky, short nightgown, lighting candles in the hall and all over your bedroom. When you’re content with the atmosphere, the only thing left to do is wait.

And wait.

You check your phone several times and when there is still nothing hours later, you think it’s time to blow out the candles, lay in bed and cry. For a moment, you feel so stupid and confused and angry that you almost throw a lamp at the wall. Then there’s a knock on the door.

Spencer stands there, immediately saying, “Don’t be mad.”

“Too late, I’m mad,” you snip, turning away from him.

He lets himself in and grabs your hand, stutters when he finally notices your nightgown, the candles, “Oh. Wow. You did all this?”

“Spencer!” you whine, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I bought you a donut,” he holds the bag up to you. “Your favorite. I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad. Not tonight. Any other night but tonight, please?”

Maybe if he wasn’t so good at the kicked puppy eyes, you could’ve held out a little longer. But you’re happy he’s here and your horny and this is happening no matter what time it is. You snatch the bag from his hand and just as quickly as you drop it, you pull his body into your, gripping his waist, your mouth open on his.

He trips over your feet as you pull him down the hall and into your bedroom, the two of you tangled up so tight that you collapse on the bed in one big sweep. He falls on top of you, between your legs, kissing you hungrily.

“Wait,” he huffs, breaking the kiss. “Wait.”

You stare up at him, his face only visible due to the candles, “What is it? Did you…already?”

“What? What? No,” he laughs. “I just…uh…um…I’m not an expert at this. I…I don’t…I’m not experienced in this area and I will do everything I can to make it good for you. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Aw,” you whisper, caressing his face. “Take your clothes off.”

“Huh?”

“Spencer. I’ve been thinking about having sex with you since I first saw your picture on bumble. Now it’s happening and you were late so we gotta catch up.”

You pull him back in for a kiss and reach between your bodies, undoing his pants so you can grab his cock. He gasps and moans into your mouth.

“Don’t overthink it,” you mumble, staring in his eyes, “Just do whatever you want to me.”

He moves his hips forward, stroking himself with your palm and whimpering against your cheek. He starts to kiss your neck, gripping onto your waist, bunching up your nightgown in his hands. You push his shirt up his waist and he quickly pulls it over his head, catching you in a kiss as soon as he can.

“Can I take this off?” he pants, pinching the hem of your clothes. And you sit up, allowing him to pull it right over your head.

His eyes rake down your body, lingering on your breasts, “Can I…?”

“Oh, god, yes, please,” you nod and lay back on the bed, holding your hands above your head.

Spencer chuckles and leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth ever so gently, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. You purr, grab a fistful of his hair, and lick your lips. He presses his body weight onto you, holding your other breast in his hand and sucking on your skin.

“F-fuck,” you moan. “Spencer…”

And he moves to the other side of your chest, now more confident, now unstoppable, flicking his tongue on you so fast that it makes your body twitch. He kisses down your tummy, looks up at you as he slides your panties off, kisses on your thighs. He knows how to do this. He’s good at this, per your review and when he puts his mouth on you, the most broken, whiny little noise falls from your lips.

He hums between your thighs, holding your hips tight and flush against his face. With your moans rattling around his skull, he loses all inhibition. He works his tongue on you slow, methodical, in all the right places. You give his hair a soft tug and he grunts, his hand trailing up your waist. You brace your hands on his biceps, squeezing them between your fingers, sighing out his name.

You hook your legs over his shoulders, tightening your thighs around his face, moving your hips up and down to feel his tongue gliding. Wet and sticky like he’s drowning inside of you.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “Yes, Spencer, yes, yes.”

He moans under his breath, quickening his tongue, clamping his hands down on your thighs. You pull at his hair as your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head. He gives your clit a sharp suck and you cry out, gripping onto his hair at the scalp. And when your voice gets so high and whiny that it could break glass, he knows you’re close and he spreads your pussy open, works his tongue on your clit and doesn’t stop.

Your body tenses up and you hold him tight, tight, tight, crying out his name, your breath catching in your throat. And when you come, you collapse with a long and drawn out groan, shoving your fingers in your mouth to catch your breath.

You instantly reach over to the nightstand and grab the condom that’s been waiting all night to be used. Spencer brings his face back to yours and you kiss him instantly, grinning when you feel him pushing his pants down his legs. He lets you roll the condom onto his hard, leaky cock and asks, “Do-do you wanna be on top?”

“No,” you shake your head, wrap your arms tight around his waist. “Stay on top of me,” you say against his lips, “I like it.”

“Okay,” he nods into a kiss with you and settles between your legs. You help him align, you kiss his neck and hold him close as he pushes his cock into you. The both of you gasp, your noses smushed together. “God…” Spencer moans. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Mm…” he hums. “Trying not to explode.”

You two chuckle, catching each other in yet another hungry kiss as Spencer starts to move in and out of you slowly. His breathing in low and jagged, hot against your face. He’s so gentle with you, pushing into you with little pressure and caressing your face.

“H-harder…” you pant. “You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

So he plunges into you a bit harder, a bit deeper and you gasp, “Harder.”

He obeys and angles himself above you, watching your face as he pushes into you with the right amount of force. You moan, your eyes rolling back and your head along with it, “Oh, fuck, yes. Like that.”

“Yeah?” he repeats the movement, his moan blending in with yours.

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes. Yes. Just,” you reach down and start rubbing your clit. “Fuck, keep going.”

And he does. He focuses on keeping his rhythm, slow, but intense, the bed squeaking everytime he moves his hips into yours. You gasp against his lips, wrap your arm around his waist, your hooded eyes focused on his. He runs his hand over your hair, whimpering to you, melting into you, and taking short breaks to keep himself from finishing too soon.

Your fingers get cramped and soaked from the incessant rubbing on your clit but it’s like you can’t stop. Spencer leans in to kiss your neck, his hand absentmindedly running up your ribs and gripping your breast. You hold onto his hair and groan into his ear, his low and breathy moans vibrating against your skin.

“F-fuck!” you cry out as he slams into you. “I’m gonna come, don’t stop. Fuck, please don’t stop.”

But he does, only for a moment because the dirty combination of your voice and your hand tugging his hair and your pussy tightening around him, he’s dangerously close to bringing this entire thing to a premature end. So, he pauses. He takes a breath and he pounds into you. Even slower, over and over and over, watching your face closely, watching you fall apart.

“Oh,” you whine, your fingers quickening on your clit. “God, Spencer,” you moan and then body trembles, tensing up underneath him as you come so hard that you lose your voice. He grunts, falling into a sloppy kiss with you and following right behind you, his body suddenly going weak as he comes, his entire weight placed upon you.

Spencer collapses beside you and instantly pulls you into his chest, squeezing you in his arms and peppering your forehead with kisses. “How was that?” he asks, looking down at you. “Was that good for you?”

You touch your fingertip to his chin and smile, nodding, “Oh, yes.”

“Good,” he hugs you. “Good, good, good. For me, too.”

You smile into a long kiss with him and giggle against his lips. Lying there, your breathing falls in sync and you trace the center of his tummy, sink into the bliss.

“They, uh…” Spencer starts. “They remembered my birthday today. That’s why I was late, they threw me a party.”

You glance up at him, but only for a moment and then you put your head back on his chest. “Oh.”

“It was nice,” he shrugs. “It was fun, but the whole time, I just…thought about you. I thought about how angry I was that they’d forgotten at all and how…how you just made everything so much better,” and he tilts your head up to say this next part directly to you, “You always make everything so much better.”

And as you stare into his eyes, the corners of your mouth turned up ever so sightly, your eyes start to water and your lip starts to quiver.

“Oh,” he softens. “Oh, no. Nooo. Are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head. Then you put your face in your hands and nod, suddenly sobbing.

“Oh, no, no, [y/n], no, I’m sorry. Did I say something?”

You shake your head.

“What is it? What-what just happened?”

“I-I-I-“ you stutter. Lifting your head from your hands, you cry, “I-I just wish I could tell my friends about you.”

He frowns and takes you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you. “Oh, [y/n], I’m so sorry.”

And because he’s never really seen you cry before, his only thought is to ask, “Do you-do you want me to go down on you again?”

You look up at him, your lip poked out in a dramatic pout and you nod.

“Okay,” he says, climbing on top of you and wiping the tears from your face. “I can do that for you.”

It works. It leads to more sex. The two of you don’t go to bed until the sun has nearly risen and don’t get up until well in the afternoon. Spencer thinks you’re using his dick as a distraction and you fear there’s no respectful way to say: I just can’t get enough. He gives you a few days and nights worth of it and still, it’s not enough.

He’s actively trying to get inside of you when he gets called into work. He’s on top of you, between your legs, pushing his tongue into your mouth when his phone goes off. He pulls away to check it and you whine, “Nooo, noooo, don’t goooo.”

“I have to. People are dying,” and as he speaks, you kiss his neck, touch your tongue to his jaw and he moans, “Oh, god,” before he can stop himself. “[y/n]….”

“Just-stay. Stay. They can save one day without you, can’t they?”

“Actually, I don’t think they can.”

“Ugh. You and your big, useful brain. I’m sick of it.”

“I’ll be back,” he gives you a kiss.

“Nooo, stay,” you hold him tight so he can’t move and he busts out laughing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

So he showers and gets dressed and you sit on the bed pouting the entire time. He comes out of the bathroom and frowns, matching your pissy and childish expression.

“I will be back,” he tells you as he takes a seat on the bed. “I always come back.”

“I know, I know, I’m just being dramatic. Let me be dramatic.”

“Okay,” he chuckles and gives you a kiss. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he whispers, “You should call your friends.”

You instantly recoil and he puts his hands on your shoulders, “Okay, okay, I know. I know. But I think it’s time. You need them. They need you. You��re an easy girl to miss.”

You roll your eyes and he sighs, kisses your forehead and squeezes you in a hug. “Call them,” he says and then he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, ponder on his words. Ponder on the entirety of the past few days, past few months. You pick up your phone. You stare at it in your palm. You dial your friend’s number and though you don’t expect an answer, she picks up with a, “Hello?”

You take a deep breath, “Hey…”

When Spencer arrives at work, he finds himself heading up the elevator with Morgan who is so completely and totally normal that Spencer thinks he can smell the sex on him. He watches Derek from the corner of his eyes, fidgeting with the strap of his satchel and shuffling on his feet.

Suddenly, Derek smashes the emergency button on the elevator and brings it to a halt. Spencer falls back and grabs onto the wall.

“Why-why-why did you do that?” Spencer stutters, his pulse starting to rise. “Why did you do that? You remember what happened the last time you messed around with the elevator? Turn it back on.”

“Not until,” Derek says, turning to him. “You tell me whatever it is that you’re dying to tell me.”

“I’m…I’m not dying to tell you anything. I’m just scared of dying.”

“Pretty boy. I step in the elevator, you start sweating. I act like I don’t notice, you’re giving me the side eye up four floors. What’s up?”

Spencer closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up straight. Then he falls back again.

“Kid?”

“I’m…” Spencer starts. But he can’t finish. “I’m…” He thinks he doesn’t know what to say. Key word: thinks. But there’s only one sentence swirling around his brain and he has to say it, but he doesn’t want to say it and so he bites his tongue. He shakes his head and then looks up at Derek, “I’m having sex!”

And he says it with such a whiny voice that Derek can’t help but laugh. Visibily.

“I knew it,” Derek says. “You’re shaking in your converse to tell me that?”

“What? What do you mean you knew it?” The response sobers Spencer up a bit, his anxiety weakens just enough so he can figure out why Derek is laughing.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you walkin’ on in here everyday with a lil’ extra pep in ya step,” Derek chuckles. “You’re not that sneaky, kid. I knew there had to be someone.”

Spencer sighs, lets his shoulders relax. “It’s-it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just…sex…lots of sex. Lots of really, really good sex. I think. I think it’s good. It…feels good, seems good. I don’t have much to compare it to but, um…yeah…”

“My man,” Derek laughs and Spencer breaks a smile. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer smiles wider, “[y/n]. She’s gorgeous and smells good and makes me laugh and I…don’t feel weird around her she makes me feel so unbelievably not weird and y-yeah, she’s a little bit younger but I hardly ever notice.”

Derek puts the elevator back in motion, “How young are we talkin’ here?”

“Um, she’s twenty-two.”

Derek replies with nothing more than a whistle and Spencer rolls his eyes, “Stop.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said plenty.”

The elevator dings and they step off, Derek swinging his arm over Spencer’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get you back to your lady soon.”

And Spencer laughs it off but in his head, he’s thinking: yes, please.

It’s the first week out of town that Derek is suspicious every time Spencer checks his phone. When the case starts to get heavier and harder, Spencer missing a few of his nightly phone calls, you worry. You can’t help it. He texts you when he lands and it’s stupid how wide you smile.

Library? he texts.

Y: Literally on my way.

You approach each other at the front doors, and from far away, you can see the bags under his eyes and the hunch in his shoulders.

“Hey, you,” you cradle his face in your palm. “Tough week?”

He leans into your touch, nodding and closing his eyes to take a moment and reset. When he opens them to find your face, illuminated by the light, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You giggle against his lips and your leg lifts behind you, almost uncontrollably.

You smile at each other and Spencer asks, “Do you like coffee?”

You cackle, “I love coffee.”

He holds the door open for you, asking, “Hey, what do you think about meeting some friends of mine?”

You smile, turn to him, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

#mine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reidxreader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #Spotify

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kentoberry · 2 years

Text

the chain — toji fushiguro.

about · toji doesn't tame brats, he breaks them.

content · [ 18 + content ; minors dni] · female reader · brat taming · toys · heavy d3gradation & name calling · age gap (toji in his 40s, reader in their 20s) · daddy kink · f1ngering · mention of f1sting · p-ssy slapping · dumbification · dacryphilia.

"fuckin' brat," toji spat, huffing as he pushed you back onto his unmade sheets. "yer always fucking testin' my patience, doll..."

he stalked around to his bedside table, pulling something out of the drawer before returning to you. he ran a large hand up your thigh, watching you shiver under his piercing gaze. it made you forget what you'd done to misbehave, fear and excitement alike swallowing you whole.

"none of that squirmin', ya hear me?" toji threatened. when you didn't reply, he roughly gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "i'm not fuckin' around, sweetheart. gonna be a good girl f'me and take it, ain't ya? fucking answer me."

the seriousness lacing his tone made you feel faint, and you struggled to utter a little whimper of "yes, daddy!" before toji had his way with you. he lifted one of your legs to meet his waist, giving him better access to your dripping cunt. he slapped it a couple of times for good measure, feeling you up before stuffing two of his fingers into you. the man didn't bother giving you a chance to adjust, instead fucking you ruthlessly and swearing about how filthy you were.

you couldn't help but squeal as toji worked on stretching your hole open, preparing you for what you assumed would be his cock. each movement from him was rough, enough to make you tear up a little, but you had no plans on uttering your safe word any time soon.

before you could even comprehend it, toji was three... no, four... fingers deep inside of you. you felt dizzy, babbling that you were close to cumming.

"don't you fuckin' dare, brat. i'm far from done with ya." with an irked sigh, toji removed his fingers from you. within a flash, he picked up the item that he'd retrieved from his drawer: his fleshlight. sure, he hadn't needed to use it in a while as having a slutty girlfriend such as yourself means he gets an easy lay, but he kept it nonetheless.

after a drizzle of lube along the handle of the toy, toji bit the bullet and began working it into your warm pussy. despite the fact that he was slow and gentle with his movements, doing his best not to hurt you, his words were a stark contrast.

"fuckin' whore, so eager to take anything in yer loose cunt, eh?"

"maybe later i'll see if i can fit my fist in ya, surely that'd ruin this pussy f'r anyone else you ever wanna fuck,"

"look at ya squirm, brat. ya like havin' an old man break yer nasty cunt, yeah?"

each syllable sent sparks flying to your core; toji knew exactly what you liked best and was using it against you. before you could even comprehend it, toji's fleshlight was stuffed in your pussy, occassionally shifting as your walls subconsciously clamped down around it. he wore a shit eating grin as he slapped the fat tip of his cock against you clit, causing you to jolt a little. it must've been your on switch, toji thought, because you started whining and begging for him to fuck you properly immediately afterwards.

"shh, sweetheart," he drawled, cupping your cheek as he feigned benevolence. "ya know i don't tolerate that bratty ass of yours. i better break it before ya go pickin' up bad habits. surely yer smart enough ta understand." he tapped your cheek then moved his hands back to your thighs. after swiftly aligning his cock with his toy, he started to fuck it.

at first, each thrust was tender. he watched your every expression to ensure that he had neither gone too far or was causing you extreme discomfort, and once he was satisfied, he sped up.

a string of curses fell from toji's lips as he found his pace, smirking at the tears staining your cheeks as you became reduced to a point beyond cohesion — it was as though the only phrases contained in your pretty little mind were "daddy" and "more". he couldn't help himself from running a thumb over your wet cheek and proceeding to lick the salty tears off of his digit. he was being downright nasty with you, fucking his toy hard enough that he was already nearing his release. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass complimented your cries so perfectly.

"where d'ya want my cum, sweets?" he asked, hoping you were still of sound enough mind to answer.

it took you a moment and your voice was meek, but you managed to croak out a small "in me, daddy."

the glint in his eyes would have told you he had other plans, but your vision was instead clouded by tears.

toji slowly pried his fleshlight out of your dripping pussy, though instead of replacing it with his cock, he left you high and dry. the man picked up the toy and pumped his cock a few more times before pulling out, tapping your clit once again, and spilling his load all over your used cunt. it only resulted in more sobs and mewls from you, with toji instead leaning closer to you and hissing in your ear:

"only good toys get daddy's cum."

#kentoberryposts #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you

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sat0sugu-angst · 1 year

Text

Fight Me, Fuck Me

a/n: happy valentiiiiiine's day!! Sorry this is a lil late i ended up picking up a shift at work so I wasn't able to finish it until this evening (which is kinda ironic ig but whatever). I seen a vid kinda similar (but less horny) on tt n couldn't resist imagining you and bkg getting in a fight on date night and lowkey being all hot n bothered with how yall are mean to each other 🙈 then w V-day around the corner I thought why the hell not lmao

wc: 3.5k

cw: afab!reader, reader is described as feminine but no pronouns are used, prohero!bkg, reader has a healing quirk and works at the hospital, yall can be toxic but that's why it's fun, established relationship, pet names (babe, my love), bakugo pays a lot of attention to your ass and thighs, reader and bkg are switchy asf, multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, light spanking

all characters aged up +24

MDNI

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You were silent as you continued doing your makeup, looking past yourself in the mirror to find red eyes focused on you.

Considering it was Katsuki, there wasn't a lot of aggression in his expression, but still, his eyes on you pissed you off. "Can I help you?" You asked, your attitude seeping into your tone.

He sneered, pushing off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "Not unless you can hurry that lil' ass up." He shot back. "We're gonna be late."

You and your boyfriend had impossible schedules. With you regularly pulling doubles at the hospital and Katsuki working his way up the hero rankings, you didn't often get a night off together for date night. Even the important couples holiday, Valentine's Day, was a day neither of you could take off. So this year, you decided to celebrate your own V-day, nearly two and a half weeks after the actual holiday.

The problem was you had mixed up your days, rushing home from the hospital in a flurry after getting a confirmation call that afternoon about the reservation from Katsuki’s assistant. You felt guilty, especially since he'd taken on planning the date night. But in typical Katsuki fashion, he'd blown up at you, yelling his head off as soon as you walked through the door. Then, despite your guilt, you were pissed at him.

"I told you on Tuesday that I was gonna be working today." You raised your brow, looking toward the bathroom with lips pursed. "If we're late, it's because you don't pay attention to anything I tell you."

"Babe, I already said I was sorry." You huff, unsatisfied. You turn back to your face in the mirror, reaching for your eyeliner. "And you told me that while I was in bed. You think I can remember the shit you tell me when I'm half asleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your hand steady as you did your eyeliner fuming mad. "Nice apology, Katsuki." You said dryly.

He emerged from the bathroom, and as he passed behind you toward the door, you caught a whiff of the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday. God, it smelled so fucking good. Normally when he wore it, it was only a matter of time before you were on top of him, unbuttoning his belt. Not now, though. Not unless you were gonna use the belt to strangle him. "Don't fuckin' talk to me about apologies. You're the one who forgot about tonight in the first place."

"I didn't forget!" You whip around to face him. You had crazy eyes, you knew, but fuck, your boyfriend made you feel crazy sometimes. "We had different dates down, and I couldn't exactly leave work immediately. There was a bus accident today. The hospital was overrun. I can't just leave when people need me."

"People are always gonna need you. They're always gonna need me. Doesn't mean we don't need each other." You stilled, recognizing your own words. You'd said them early in the relationship, the first time your jobs were making it hard to be together.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I can't even count how many dates we've had to cancel because you had a mission! But oh, because it's my job, it's a bad thing to be dedicated? Do you not take my job seriously?"

He groaned. "Babe. Do you know what I had to do to make tonight special for us? The strings I had to pull to get us a spot at this restaurant for tonight? If we were just gonna sit at home in our fucking underwear, it wouldn't be a big deal."

You were glaring, but turned your attention back to the real task at hand. "You know what, I can't even fucking talk to you right now. I need to finish getting ready." You could argue, or you could do your makeup. You could not do both.

He let out a bitter laugh. "Well, thank god for that!" He yells back, walking out of the room. You flushed with anger, the sudden urge to throw something at him. But you couldn't chase after him to scream anymore; if you really were late, you'd never hear the end of it.

Ten minutes later, you were off, heading toward the restaurant in silence. Well, silent except for the occasional passive aggressive sighs and grumblings about the music you passed back and forth during the twenty minutes it took to get there.

When you got there, the host offered to take your coats, and Katsuki’s hands were on your shoulders, helping you out of yours. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed over your shoulder, and you were acutely aware of his breath ghosting along your neck.

Fuck, you think, annoyed at the way goosebumps rise along your skin, always like a live wire when it came to his touch. You had to fight your body's urge to lean into his touch, your anger still simmering but somehow making everything hotter, more volatile. You needed to keep it together. You couldn't let him win the argument because you were a little horny.

The restaurant was elegant, elevated. The low light was warm against the white tablecloths, and you were glad you had purchased a new dress for the occasion.

Katsuki was dressed to impress, too; charcoal colored trousers and a black cashmere sweater. When he took off his own coat, you had to remind yourself not to check him out. At least not obviously.

You followed the host toward your table, Katsuki behind you. “Are you gonna be pissy the whole night?” He asked as you were sitting down, realizing the attitude had yet to leave your expression. He couldn’t admit the reason it’d taken him a second to realize you were still pissed was because he’d been too focused on the way your dress hugged your curves, or how he had wanted to run his hands over your hips as he’d taken your coat. No, he wouldn’t admit the reason his ears were red was because he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging your ass to a restroom, or back to the car, to fuck you so hard you forget about why you were mad in the first place.

You sneered at him, about to pop off with an insult, and maybe a curse or three, but you were greeted quickly by your waiter.

Katsuki ordered wine for you, and a dirty martini for him.

When the waiter left, you shot a narrowed look to your boyfriend. “I’m not pissy.” It was a blatant lie, but you couldn't be bothered to care about being fair.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. You have been since you got home.”

“Well, I kinda had a shitty day,” you said, honestly. “Can’t imagine why you thought yelling at me would make me feel better.”

“Babe, really? You were supposed to be off today, then you text me that you were staying late. And you still stayed later than you said. I almost lost the fuckin’ table tryna change the reservation. We don't get to do this often, I'd like my fucking girlfriend to at least pretend to be excited about it.”

You groan a little, trying to not be loud and draw attention. This is not the place you wanted to have this argument, especially with someone as explosive as Katsuki, but you weren’t ready to concede, because if you did, he’d think he was right. “I told you since last week that I’d picked up the extra shift, on this day, and you didn’t say anything. I didn't do it to spite you, and I don’t really appreciate being blamed for an honest mistake as if I did it to piss you off. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, and this is just how I wanted to spend the evening with you.” He said dryly, sneering and turning his attention to the menu, effectively ending the conversation.

The rest of dinner, and even the drive home, was much of the same. Neither of you were able to drop the bickering long enough to really talk about anything. Over the course of the meal, one martini had turned into two, and you’d finished off the bottle of wine. You both were still mad, senses dulled, and emotions amplified. When you glared at him, you couldn’t help but focus on the shape of his eyes, how pretty he looked even when he was mad.

And all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck the attitude right out of you. Every sneer, every glare sent his way, pissed him off, but he couldn’t deny how fucking sexy you were when you were mad. Without even trying, you had him half hard in his pants, like he was some fucking teenager on his first date. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even by the time you’d gotten home.

He rounded the car to I open the door for you, offering you a hand. You raised your brow at him, but let him help you out the car. Katsuki set his hand on the small of your back, just barely above your ass, only because he needed to touch you. He wanted to get you hot and bothered, until you were begging for him.

The heat from his hand did stir something low in your stomach, and you tried not to show how he affected you, not even looking in his direction. As his hand dropped from your back, his fingertips grazed your ass, and you rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door. “Don’t think that’s gonna make me forget I’m mad at you.”

"Tsk," he clicks his tongue at you, pushing open the door and flashing that smug smile he knew you couldn't resist. “You can be mad at me and still want me to fuck you.” He said shamelessly.

You felt your face heat at his boldness, and you had to look away, focusing on the door as he pushed it open. He moved, if only slightly, for you to walk in passed him, and you fought to maintain your composure. You loved it when he was like this, and he knew it was a sure way to get you in the mood and give whatever he asked of you.

He wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t even really sure why you were still fighting, other than that you were being stubborn and, in a sick way, loved fighting with your boyfriend.

You walked past him, keeping your expression level. Katsuki watched you move through the house, following you into your shared bedroom. Despite your efforts, he saw right through you; he was certain he could have you apologizing and begging him to give you attention.

But you were determined, and when you wanted, could be even more stubborn than your boyfriend. Through the wine, or maybe because of it, you knew you’d succumb to him eventually. You always did, and happily. Tonight though, you wanted him to fold first.

So, you took your time getting undressed, going so far as to ask for Katsuki’s help unzipping your dress when you could've done it easily, letting it pool around your ankles before you stepping out of it. As you stood in front of your dresser, examining its contents and deciding what pajamas to slip into, Katsuki slipped his hands around your waist, settling on your hipbones. He pulled you back into him, and you felt him, hard, pressing again the small of your back.

You bit your lip, stifling the urge to lean into him, to rub against his erection, or worse, let out the sweet moan that threatened to expose you. After so many years together, he knew exactly what would make you crumble, and fuck, you almost did.

“I’m trying to get ready for bed.” You say instead, voice clipped. You reached for a pair of black shorts from the drawer, but his hand was covering yours, intertwining your fingers. Fighting to keep your expression even, you leveled a glare on him as he leaned over your shoulder. “You really wanna piss me off tonight, don’t you?”

“Definitely wanna do somethin’ to ya.” He shoots back quickly, the thumb at your hip rubbing slow circles into your skin, promising more. You narrowed your eyes. There was no way you could resist him, you needed to act quickly.

You turned around, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand was on your ass now, fingers squeezing and pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand flat on his stomach, trying to put some space between the two of you. You were flushed now, and he knew it. “C’mon,” his finger came up from under your chin, forcing you to look right at him as he smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t be a sore loser. Admit it. You’re turned on.”

You lean up onto your toes, pressing your lips against his, reaching down and untucking his shirt the best you could. He helped you, getting his belt undone and stepping backward out of his slacks as you pushed him back toward the bed.

He was pulling his shirt off as he sat on the edge of the bed, before pawing at your hips so you were sitting in his lap. The heat of him pressed right against you was delicious, and you rolled your hips against him. He swallowed your sighs as your tongues danced together, flushing with pride at the noises you pulled from him.

He was impatient, meeting the wave of your hips with thrusts of hie own. But this pesky fabric between the two of you. "Fuckin’ take these off already.” He grumbled, pulling at the fabric of your underwear where it covered your ass, and you wasted no time getting rid of your last layers of clothing.

He nearly cried out as you lowered yourself on top of him, leaning into you so that you could feel his heavy breath tickling your neck. You allowed yourself to enjoy it momentarily, before pushing his shoulder with a finger so he was laying back on the bed, his legs over the edge of the bed. You squeezed around the tip of his cock as you got used to the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You hid your satisfied smile by leaning down, sucking kisses from his chest up his neck. With each hitch of his breath, every moan, you rewarded him, clenching around him, or shifting the angle of your hips, lowering down until he was pressed flush against you.

You were used to the stretch, but with the way he filled you, and the lovely friction against your clit, you could already feel how the tension in your stomach was ready to snap. You needed to calm down before you came undone, biting into his shoulder as you found the rhythm that would make him crumble.

The drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching, and then you started to feel the telltale signs that he was close. His fingers tightened on your hips, almost painfully so, unable to control the way he thrusted up into you.

"You gonna come?" You cooed, sitting up a little, pulling out slowly and dropping down on his cock. He looked so close, his eyes fluttering each time he filled you. His resolve was crumbling, too lost in the feeling of you around him to remember that you were the one who was supposed to be one begging.

"Fuck," He whimpered when you clenched around him. You settled your hands on either side of his chest, leaning forward so you could keep bouncing on his cock. "You wanna come, my love?" You ask, crumbling at how Katsuki blushes under you. He nods, melting for you. You lean forward, pressing a messy kiss against him. You were close, too. If you looked at that expression one more second, you'd come undone.

You shift the angle of your hips, and he let out a clumsy grunt, fingers squeezing the fat of your hips for some stability. "Fuck, baby, just like that. I'm gonna—"

That's when you lift your hips, until only his tip is inside you, and still. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. He cries out, a moan turned sour as deny him. You smile down at him, and he knew by that look in your eyes that he was in for it.

You leaned down, lips brushing over his slightly as you said, "I'd like to see you beg me to let you come." He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad, not with the way you looked above him, your hair messy from him running his fingers through it, the light sheen of sweat on your skin from riding him so well. He doesn't care who was supposed to punish who, not when he was so close to coming, not if all it would take was a little begging.

You continued edging him, bouncing up and down on him until he got close, then cockwarming him until he calmed down. His sweet pleas grew more desperate. You almost let him when you came yourself, squeezing around him uncontrollably as you stilled on top of him to ride out your orgasm, and he nearly lost it at the feel of you so tight around him.

But even though you came, you weren't done with him, continuing to roll your hips over him, looking right into his eyes as you fuck him.

He has tears pricking his eyes, and he's whimpering. “Baby, please. Please let me come. I’m fucking sorry for yelling at you today. I got lost in wanting things to be perfect, but I was an ass for getting mad.” Your expression softens for your boyfriend, and before you can even speak, he’s leaning in. His kiss is rough, hurried, and he’s thrusting up into you harder now than before, shifting so he hits that spot that has you moaning into his mouth. Unexpectedly, you fall into your next orgasm, and he feels you clenching. “Baby, please can I come?”

Words elude you, so you simply nod, leaning against his chest and resting your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he uses you to finish. He’s twitching inside you, and after only a couple more thrusts, you feel his warmth flood your cunt, as he fucks you through both your orgasms.

You’re breathing heavily, body feeling heavy as you lay on top of him, hands still resting on your ass, holding you against him. You feel his cum, and yours, seep out of you onto him, but he makes no move to get up to clean.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say softly, tracing your finger over his chest. You look up at him, and his gaze is already on you. “I was being kind of a bitch. I just…felt guilty, for almost ruining tonight, but it was easier to be mad at you than admit I messed up.” You feel your cheeks heat, looking away from him and resting your ear against his chest. “So, I’m sorry for being so sour all night. And for getting the day wrong.”

He rolls you both over, easily moving you both so your head was back against the pillows, still snuggly pressed inside you. Still hard, you realize. “Cute apology, but I can’t let you off that easy. You were a bitch tonight.” His eyes shine wickedly, his smirk smug as he pulls slowly out of you. You whine at the lovely drag of his cock along your walls.

He leans down and, kissing you hard, knocks the breath out of you with the way he thrusts back into you. “I'm not done with you, yet." He thrusted into you again again, hitting that spot that had you already craving a third orgasm.

You’re gasping curses, then his name, as he fucks you, slowly but with strength and precision. You couldn't help digging your nails into his back as you feel the first wave of your orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again." You say breathlessly, and bite into his neck as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck right as you come. You feel a rush of liquid, making a mess between your thighs and dripping down your ass, ruining the sheets beneath you.

The way you're clenching around him has him seeing stars, and feeling you squirt around him spurs him into his next orgasm, keeping himself buried in you as he cums. You pull him in for a kiss as he fills you, his lips grounding you as you come down, chests heaving against each other.

~~~

After showering and changing the sheets, you’re back in bed, curled up into his side and playing with his hair. You’re both smiling, fucked out and tired, though unwilling to end the night. “We should just sync our calendars.” You say finally. “That way we won’t get anything confused, and we can avoid pissing each other off.”

His hand, which had settled on your hip, landed a couple light smacks on your ass. “I don’t think I mind us pissing each other off. Not with the way you fight.”

You roll your eyes, grinning even as your face heats. “Please, you were the one who couldn’t stop pawing at me when we got home.”

He snorts. “You liked it,”

“Yeah,” you say absently, eyes growing heavy. “I guess if we settle our arguments like that, I don’t mind getting into a fight every now and then.”

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a/n: thanks so much for reading! I hope you like this spicy little valentine's treat <3 if you did, pls lmk with rbs and comments! happy v-day <3

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #mha bakugou #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x chubby reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha smut

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pandorxxx · 11 months

Text

Spoiled

Read part 1 here:

Neteyam x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT, cursing, soft-dom Neteyam, brat-Tamer, oral (both receiving and giving. Neteyam eats 🍑 in this one, sorry if you’re not into that). P in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink (kinda).

Synopsis: Ever since you and Neteyam decided to make it official, you had been nothing but a nightmare for him. And when he walked into the hut from a long day without your favorite fruit, there was no way you were going to let him slide.

🔞mdni🔞

It had been exactly 5 months since your 21st birthday extravaganza. 5 months since you and Neteyam decided to make it official. When you both told your parents, they were very happy for you both. Your father especially because he knew what a promising young man Neteyam was, and the fact that he would undeniably make a great mate. The relationship was going great…for you. Neteyam did everything in his power to keep you satisfied.

But if he was being honest, you were a complete nightmare. More bratty and selfish than you were when you were single. And let’s not forget to mention how needy you were. But he took it, because he loved you so much. But boy, was he getting sick and tired of you.

He would walk home from his long day of training, and stand outside of the door. Basking in the last few minutes he had alone before he had to deal with you.

He sighed deeply, walking into the hut. His eyes landed on your small figure, admiring yourself in the mirror. Hell, that was all you ever did.

“Did you get my fruit?” You asked, pulling your braids into a ponytail as you watched him walk to the cot languidly.

“Hello to you too.” He spoke sarcastically, plopping down on the cot. You frowned, turning to him with an angry glare. His eyes shot to you and he sighed, closing his eyes briefly to maintain his patience.

“Baby, the fruit you want isn’t in season right now. Remember? I told you that.” He gestured calmly. You stomped your foot like an angry child, walking over to him.

“But that’s what I want, Teyammm!” You whined, getting on your knees in-front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Baby, I understand that. And you know I’d get them for you if I could. I’ve looked everywhere, and they’re just nowhere to be found.” He explained, caressing your cheek as you pouted up at him. You smacked his hand away harshly, making him clench his jaw in restraint with a low groan.

“Ugh! You’re so annoying. Why don’t you just look HARDER!” You shouted, smacking his chest, only for him to have no reaction.

“Ok, y/n.” He muttered, standing to his feet in-front of you, walking over to the dresser to take his war belt off. You cocked an eyebrow, turning around to face him.

“OK? What does that mean?” You asked with aggression, standing to your full height.

“It means that I’m done talking. And I’d advise you do the same, because i am not in the mood for this shit tonight.” He shook his head, removing his woven necklace, placing it on the dresser.

You eyed him up and down in shock. He was becoming angry with you, and you knew that. You also knew that the only way to get what you wanted, was to play nice. So like always, you played your roll. Your demeanor softening into a sad pout. You walked over to him, turning him around to face you.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked sarcastically with a low sigh to follow. You shot him puppy dog eyes, and his demeanor immediately softened. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“I hate when you get upset with me, Teyam. You’re gonna make me cry.” You whimpered, eyes becoming watery. You were such a great actress, you could cry on instant. After all, You had a lot of time to practice on your father. That’s how you got everything you wanted.

“No, baby. Don’t cry, please? I-im sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to, ok? I’ll get your fruit, Princess.” He reassured you, caressing your flushed cheeks. You sniffled, trailing your dainty hands down his chest.

“When?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as your hands trailed over his abs. “First thing Tomorrow morning. They’ll be here before you wake up, I promise.” He nodded, pecking your forehead.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You asked, your hand finding the band of his loincloth. He smiled, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, baby. I’ll be my absolute best for you, and only you.” He confessed. Your hand made its way to his covered cock, palming it gently. His entire body froze, sucking in a sharp breath as he stared into your eyes.

“And how can I ever repay you, daddy?” You smiled, leaving small kisses on his chest. He let out a satisfied groan, throwing his head back.

“I-I would answer, but I’m assuming you already have something in mind Princess.” He strained, feeling his loincloth become looser and looser around his hips before it fell to the ground. You spit in your hand before connecting it to his throbbing cock, jerking it slowly. A series of curses and moans left his mouth as he watched you play with his cock.

“I can’t wait to get my fruit tomorrow. But until then….I think I’ll just snack on you instead. How’s that sound?” You asked sensually, speeding up the pace on his huge cock.

“Sounds good, Princess. Sooo s-so good.” He moaned, watching you slide down to your knees in-front of him. Without another moment to spare, you attached your mouth to his length, bobbing your head slowly as you stared up at him with lustful eyes.

“Oh my- f-fucking God. Juuust like that.” He muttered through a clenched jaw, holding the sides of your head as leverage to buck his hips into your mouth.

You hummed on him, swirling your tongue around his tip. You made it slow and sloppy for him, letting your spit cascade down your neck and breasts.

“Fuuck yes.” He groaned, watching you through hooded eyes, mouth slightly agape with low pants seeping through. You opened your mouth wider, letting him fuck your face just how he wanted to. He picked up the pace, the squelching and gagging noises egging him on.

“I-Im gonna cum, baby. G-Gonna cum!” He moaned, tucking both of his lips away, eyebrows scrunched as his eyes locked with yours.

“Mhmmm!” You hummed, eyes rolling in pleasure as you watched him fall apart. That was all he needed. His large hand found the top of the dresser, clawing at the wood as his eyes rolled back. Loud whimpers left his mouth before he released in yours. Your cheeks swelling with his seed. You let it trickle down your throat with a satisfied hum. He pulled out of your mouth slowly, a loud gasp leaving your swollen lips as he watched the lines of spit that connected you two.

“Fuuuck, girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He chuckled breathily, leaning back on the wall in exhaustion.

“Well don’t die yet. I’m horny now.” You pouted, untying your top and throwing it to the side. He looked down at you with low eyes, shaking his head with a light chuckle.

“When are you not horny?” He asked, rubbing his hands down his face in complete exhaustion. You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at him. He sighed loudly.

“Whenever you want me, I give it to you. But right now…I’m so fucking tired. You have worn me out babe. And if you want me to be energized enough to go get your fruit, I need some sleep.” He explained, walking over to the cot slowly. You huffed, getting off of the ground to turn him around. “I want it.” You commanded, pouting up at him with your arms crossed.

“What, do you think I’m your Fuck toy or something? Huh? You know I am a whole person outside of just being your boyfriend? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired. And that little performance you just gave…only put the icing on the cake for me. So please….please just let me sleep.” He begged, hands intertwined with each other as he awaited an answer.

“Teyammm! Let me get on top then. You won’t even have to do anything but lay there.” You whined, caressing his biceps. He trailed your body for a moment, thinking about how good you would look riding him. With a low sigh, he finally gave in.

“You sure do know how to get what you want. Spoiled ass.” He smirked, backing up into the cot before taking a seat. You untied your loincloth swiftly, tossing it the the side of the room before straddling his lap.

“Whatever. Lay back.” You commanded, pushing him back with force. You two had been having sex long enough to not have a repeat of last time. So in one swift motion, you grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance to slowly slide down on him.

“Finally…I’m getting what I want.” You moaned, placing your hands on his broad chest, using it as leverage to bounce on him with full force.

“I-I always give you what you want. You’d kill me if I didn’t.” He spoke breathily, watching your breasts bounce with every subtle movement.

“Mmm hush!” You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his swollen tip slammed into your sweetspot with every bounce of your hips.

His hands trailed down to your ass, gripping the plush flesh with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth to keep him quiet like you asked. Soft grunts and groans rumbling in his chest with every harsh meeting of his pelvis to yours.

“Teyammm, w-why are you so quiet? Am I not doing it right?” You whined, eyes meeting his. He looked at you completely dumbfounded.

“You t-told me t- mmm!- to hush. You’re doing so good, baby. Sooo so good!” He moaned, head titled back in complete bliss as his face scrunched in pleasure. He was so close, he could feel his muscles tensing and his heart racing until…you stopped with one hard bounce to his pelvis, almost knocking the wind out of him. He opened his eyes instantly, being met with your all too familiar angry demeanor.

“What? What could I have possibly done NOW?!” He shouted, rolling his eyes at you. “You’re annoying me! Being all quiet and shit. What is that supposed to mean? That I’m not doing my job, huh?” You asked, tilting your head as you awaited an answer.

“You told me to be quiet, DAMN! Do you not remember that?” He asked, gesturing wildly as his muscles tensed in anger. You rolled your eyes with a loud groan.

“NO I DONT REMEMBER THAT!” You shouted, smacking his chest hard enough to leave a handprint, but he still had no reaction to it. He ran his hands down his face with a loud growl.

“Holy shit Y/n, You’re driving me nuts! Just get up, I’m done with your shit tonight.” He sighed, placing his hands on your torso to lift you off of him. You smacked his hands away harshly. “NO!” You shouted, staying in place stubbornly.

“Hit me one more time…” His tone was serious, and dark. You loved to push neteyam’s buttons, but you knew when it was time to stop. And this was definitely the time. But, you felt like pushing him alittle further tonight, maybe you could wake the beast in him…the one you met the night of your party.

“Or what?” You challenged, eyebrow cocked as you awaited an answer. “Fuck around and find out. How about that?” He snarled, eyeing you up and down. You shot him a sarcastic smile, raising your hand to hit him again. But before it could connect to his chest, he had flipped both of you over, his arms engulfing your head.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” He spoke lowly, shifting your legs over his shoulders with one hand, completely folding you in half. He began to thrust into you, hard and deep, still maintaining a somewhat slow pace. Just so you could feel all of him, deep inside of your slippery cunt. After all, this was now considered a punishment.

“Too deep, Too deep, Teyammm!” You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tapped his thigh, essentially tapping out.

“Hush! Not another fucking word. I’m sick of you talking.” He growled, pecking your agape lips as he fed you the deepest strokes you’d ever gotten. Loud squelching noises and heavy grunts flooded the room.

“I-Im sorry Tey! I’m sorry!” You nodded lazily, giving him those puppy dog eyes that seemed to work so well on him. “Not trying to hear that shit right now.” He shook his head with a dark chuckle, rolling his hips into you.

“Ohhh fuuuck.” You squealed, wrapping your trembling arms around his neck gently, bringing him dangerously close to you. So close that you could feel his breath tickling your nose. The eye contact was lethal as he drilled into you at an agonizingly slow pace. So deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“I-I hate you…sooo much.” You moaned, throwing your head back in absolute bliss. He knew that whenever you would tell him that, an intense release would follow.

“Gonna cum, huh? I know you like the back of my fucking hand, Princess.” He chuckled breathily, using the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck.

“Yesss, I’m so close Tey!” You whimpered, shifting your trembling legs to the side of his hips. He began to speed up the pace, kissing every inch of your neck and jaw.

“Mhm, cum for me Princess. Be as loud as you want. Let everyone know that your spoiled ass belongs to me. I’m the only one that can handle you, right?” He asked breathily, in between kisses.

“Yes Teyammm!” You whined loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body began to tremble at once.

“Fuuuck, this is the only time I like to hear you scream my name.” He moaned, watching you come undone beneath him. Your juices flowed out of you with every slow thrust, making their way to the sheets.

“I-I want more. give me MORE!” You whined, in the middle of your peek. He shook his head with a slight chuckle.

“Any more and we’re gonna have to sleep on the ground. You’re making a mess, baby.” He explained, pulling out of you slowly, watching the rest of your essence cascade out of you like a river.

“One more time, Teyam! I-I’m so fucking hot for you.” You moaned, turning around in-front of him. You laid your head on the bed as your hips stayed mounted in the air. You spread your knees farther apart, opening yourself up to him.

“Oh my-“ he muttered under his breath, smacking your plush ass with a low groan. His mouth began to water, licking his lips as he admitted your dripping cunt. He bent down, immediately attaching his lips to your clit, flicking his tongue against the ball of nerves. You let out a low moan, spreading your legs a little wider for him.

He held your cheeks open to get better access, completely devouring your sensitive heat. He sucked on your clit like a pacifier before licking a long stripe up to your ass, swirling his tongue around to hole.

“Yesss, juuust like that daddy!” You moaned, a delirious smile plastered across your face in pleasure.

He began to French kiss your ass, letting his spit cascade down his chin. With a low hum, he stuck his tongue out, wiggling his head in between your cheeks, making your tail sway high in excitement with small whimpers falling from your precious lips. He sent it one last peck before he stood back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You taste so good princess. Just like the fruit you’ve been nagging me about for the past week.” He chuckled, sending a hard smack to your ass once more.

“I know that. FUCK ME.” You frowned, backing your ass up into him. He smiled, lining his cock up with your entrance before plunging into you.

“So fucking cocky. You just think you’re so hot, huh?” He asked, thrusting into hard and deep.

“I-I am hot, daddy. You don’t think so?” You moaned breathily, gripping the sheets so hard that your knuckles were white.

“You know how I feel, you just wanna hear me say it.” He moaned, mouth slightly agape as he watched your ass smack against his pelvis. The sweet music ringing through the entire hut, along with your pornographic moans that he loved so much. He shifted his hips up, jamming into that sensitive sweet spot of yours repeatedly. You bit your lip with a satisfied smile, shifting your head on the cot to look back at him.

“You like that? Hmm?” He asked with a sensual tone, smacking your bruised ass a few times, earning a few low hums in satisfaction from you. You let out a small giggle in response, followed by a series a curses as your stomach muscles started to tense.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Teyammm!” You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you began to push your hips back into him to meet his rhythm.

“Shiiiittt! me too, baby.” He groaned, speeding up the pace. He threw his head back, loud growls rumbling in his chest. His thrusts became sloppy, cock twitching inside of you from his incoming orgasm.

“Oh my God, Yesssss! I’m- I-“ you cried, an intense release following. Your entire body twitching with each deep stroke. Your walls fluttering around him caught his attention. He looked down, admiring his cream coated cock with every thrust.

“Mmm, did you get what you wanted, Princess? Have I satisfied you enough?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm. But in reality, all he ever wanted to do was make you feel good. If you were happy, he was happy.

“Yes, daddy! I-I love you! I love you sooo much!” You moaned breathily, coming down from your high.

“Ohhh baby. I love you more!” He moaned, sending you one last thrust before painting your fluttering walls with his seed. You could feel the liquid trickling down into your womb, filling it up just right. A series of moans leaving his and your mouth as you both came down from your peeks. He pulled out, watching his seed flow down your trembling thighs.

“Can I go to sleep now princess?” He asked, grabbing a cloth to clean you up first. Silence followed, not even a hum in agreement.

“Y/n?” He asked, shifting around to see you cooing with your eyes shut tightly. Your legs slowly buckled to the cot, laying you completely flat. He chuckled to himself, wiping your thighs one last time.

“What am I going to do with you, Princess?…”

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#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam headcanons #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #avatar neteyam #neteyam x y/n #avatar loak #loak headcanons #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak smut

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goldenroutledge · 2 months

Text

par for the course

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

word count ⤜ 3.2k

summary ⤜ in which you forgive your childhood nemesis, rafe cameron.

a/n ⤜ season one reminiscent? i’ve had a draft of this piece forever so i decided to finish it!

rafe cameron masterlist

The slam of your bedroom door echoes through your house and the fall onto your bed is cushioned by the decorative throw pillows on top of it, drowning out your exasperation for the moment. A deep exhale fell past your lips as reality sunk in. The nags of your parents reached an all time high so far this summer, as they went on and on about how you were going to be stuck in the house with nothing to do.

Unfortunately, your explanation didn’t cut it. In the back of your mind, you were well aware that your friends would be busy doing their own things. You just chose not to believe it until it came true. John B and JJ became camp counselors for some group of kids over the summer, those poor kids. Pope decided to fill his free time with summer classes, and Kiara was tied up at The Wreck. And with John B going away, Sarah didn’t have a reason to stick around either, much to your displeasure. She’d decided to visit her cousins overseas. Not that you really blamed her, or any of your friends for that matter.

But it was slightly embarrassing to have nothing to say when it was your turn to reveal your plans for the next few months. Any other time, you’d always assumed your plans would be with any one of them.

And now, your problems were a whole lot bigger. Judging by your lack of plans, your parents went ahead and made some for you. And with the last person you would’ve wanted to spend your summer days— or any days at all— with, Rafe Cameron.

Both of your fathers had worked together in the past, and they still kept a friendship because of it. If that’s what you call two middle-aged businessmen drowning in drinks and making small talk at the occasional kook event.

To put it simply, Rafe had it out for you. Just the mention of his name made you shudder; your horrific childhood experiences with the boy forever carved in your memory.

His bratty behavior towards you began at about age 9 or 10. For instance, when you wouldn’t budge off of his favorite swing at the park. It would be impossible to forget how he popped one last bubble from his piece of bubblegum, faded pink and chewed thin, before wading it up and planting it right in your hair.

You lunged off the swing towards him immediately, screams of terror piercing the serene island air. He ran in circles, cackling mischievously as you chased him. All for Rafe to ‘take back’ his spot on the swing while he had you distracted.

As years went on, the memory became less and less vivid— except for that moment when he popped in another piece of gum, one bigger than all his teeth combined, before shouting: “Thanks for keeping’ it warm for me.”

And without an inkling of remorse, he began swinging gleefully while you ran to find your mother, hot tears cascading down your cheeks. The tear stains remained for another day or so. The sadness and frustration was simply too much for your nine year old self to handle. Not to mention the wad of gum that had to be cut out of your hair later that day. And it was all Rafe’s fault.

So it couldn’t be chalked up to anything less than betrayal, really. For your parents to coordinate summer golf lessons with your childhood nemesis. It was pure treachery. Especially after your strong argument of course, not failing to mention the dreaded gum incident. Only to be told off by your mother, as she assumed any child of Ward’s would mature into nothing short of an upstanding citizen. If she only knew.

Days later, you were throwing on a Ralph Lauren polo and a tennis skirt to match, hating every minute of it as you knew what was to come. You couldn’t deny how the material hugged your body just right; and a shred of your subconscious hoped that Rafe would notice too.

For no reason other than revenge, of course. How dare he terrorize you as a child and not be consumed with regret years later? His unforgivable acts couldn’t go unpunished.

Grabbing your keys and phone, you sped off in your car without so much as a goodbye to your mom before leaving. No amount of time could help you process what you were in for, and no amount of forethought would make this reunion any more bearable.

Scanning the cream colored walls of the Island Club, it didn’t take long to spot the tall Cameron leaning up against one of its pillars, scrolling on his phone with an expression of pure boredom. His foot tapped the floor occasionally, his eyes lifting every minute or so in search of you.

Just two taps on his shoulder was all it took to grab his attention. Rafe’s lips spread into a smirk just as quickly as he turned around to meet your irritated gaze. That stupid smirk, one you knew all too well.

“Long time no see, Y/n. Missed me?”

“Not a chance in hell. I’m here against my will.”

“Yeah, right. I bet you were just begging for a chance to see me again.” Rafe whines dramatically.

“Delusional as ever, huh, Rafe? I guess some things never change.”

“Childish as ever, huh, Y/n? Good to know we agree about something. And to think I had hope that you’d leave the hostility at home.”

“Didn’t you get suspended from the Academy for fighting? Twice?”

His expression shifts from smug to scowl.

“That was a long time ago. You ready to get started or what?”

You smile at him with faux innocence, glad to have landed a punch in this endless match between you two.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—

The silence remained as thick as molasses, tension lingering that not even the sharpest of machetes could slash through.

Rafe steered the golf cart in silence, movements hasty and abrupt as an expression of his frustration. Your memory wasn’t as short as he’d expected; and now he was subjected to a summer of what he anticipated to be vengeful torture.

Lost in thought, he came to a stop at your destination. And by the looks of it, you were more than ready, willing and able to carry on without him as you began teeing up.

“Aren’t I supposed to be teaching you how? Isn’t that the whole reason why we’re here?”

With a sigh, your eyes darted to the clear blue sky, silently praying to a higher power to keep you sane. “I’ll ask for your help when I need it.”

You resume lining up your footing and the club with the ball, envisioning your swing before Rafe interrupts once again.

“Why bother showing up here if you’re gonna act like a bitch?”

“I was sent here against my will, remember?”

“So you say.”

“And I’m not a bitch. Not to those who don’t deserve it.”

“I couldn’t tell the difference.” Rafe scoffs. “And I never said you are a bitch, I said you’re acting like one.”

A cold chuckle makes its way out of your throat at his blatant contradiction. “You do not wanna go there with me, Cameron.”

After the mumble fell from your lips, you were set on taking a swing at the golf ball. Until Rafe opened his mouth once again, as if he was just waiting for you to swing, to piss you off even further. Provoking you at this point.

“Actually, let’s go there. I’d love to go there. Please enlighten me as to why you feel entitled to be so rude to me. Especially since I am the one doing you this little favor, aren’t I? Giving you a break from those losers on the Cut you love so much.”

“Isn’t it disrespectful to talk when I’m trying to hit a ball?” You query, quoting his very own words during an encounter with the notorious blond pogue. “Learn some etiquette, my friend.”

“Pathetic. So it’s Maybank? He’s been whispering in your ear? What, is he your boyfriend?”

“As if I haven’t experienced enough of your obnoxiousness firsthand. Trust me, I hate you plenty on my own. And he’s not my boyfriend, idiot.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning at your defensiveness. “Though from what I hear you have some ‘losers’ of your own these days. Barry, isn’t it? Would be a shame if Uncle Ward found out.”

Rafe rolls his eyes at your disingenuous mention of his father. Sure, your fathers were somewhat close friends, but for some reason, it made his blood boil. “What’s it to you? Don’t tell me this is your attempt at blackmail.”

You shrug, grip still firm on the golf club. “Not necessarily. Have to admit it does feel good to get under your skin, though.”

“Touché.”

—

You moved through the golf course rather quickly, nearing its end. Both of your intentions were evident that you were eager to get home, and best of all, away from each other. Rafe slides into the driver's side of the cart, but doesn’t pull off immediately.

“You never actually answered my question, by the way. About why you’re being such a pain in the ass to me.”

You stop scrolling on your phone to look at him, trying to understand his purpose for bringing this up again. “You don’t happen to have some sort of short-term memory loss, right?”

“You said you hate me plenty on your own. But what fucking reason have I ever given you to?”

“Oh?”

“I told you to go there, didn’t I? I’m giving you a chance to let out your grievances. And that’s one more than I should, you know patience isn’t my strongsuit.”

“Can’t a girl just hate Rafe Cameron with no strings attached? I’m sure it’s not the first time.”

He looks over to you, blue eyes staring into yours. “You and I both know there’s always strings attached.”

“What can I say, Cameron? Guess it’s just par for the course. Or are you so desperate to know because you crave my validation?”

“What can I say, Y/l/n? I guess you wouldn’t be able to understand what it means to learn from your mistakes.”

“You’re full of it.”

“No more than you are, peach cake.”

“Just drive us back to the club already.”

“Not until you confess.” He protests, dangling the keys in your face before sliding them into his pocket. Rafe leans back, unintentionally manspreading as he does so, and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “We could be here all day.”

The exasperation was pretty much dripping off of you. His antics felt so familiar in the most intense way possible, and it made you want to scream. He was the same Rafe bullying you out of the playground a decade ago. The same Rafe you were now wondering had you misjudged. Or judged a little too harshly over some measly childhood rivalry.

“Primrose Park.”

“Excuse me?”

“Primrose Park.” You reiterate. “Don’t feign amnesia. I know you know.”

“How could I forget? I was the king of that place for years.”

“King? More like dictator.”

He shrugs. “I had a delicate ego back then.”

“As well as no patience or manners. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were raised by wolves.”

Rafe chuckles, amused by your memory of him as a child. “Blame it on Uncle Ward.”

“Sarah and Wheezie were always sweet as pie, so I don’t know if that’s fair.”

“Probably just caught me on a bad day, Y/n. I, too, am sweet as pie.” He defends, eyes twinkling as he smiles.

“Like hell you were! Do you recall wading up your gum and sticking it in my hair? Does that ring a bell?”

His eyebrows furrow as he recollects the memory.

“When we were kids at the park, you got all pissed that I wouldn’t give you a turn on the swings, so you spit your gum in my hair.”

He chuckles at first, but his laughs grow much louder as he ponders the memory.

“It’s really not that funny, Rafe. My mother had to cut that chunk of gum out of my hair.” You remind him. “You’re lucky I don’t shave your damn head right now!” You take a swat at his cap, knocking it to the ground as he’s struggling to get his laughter under control.

“And after all these years you never forgave me? It’s been decades, Y/n.”

“You never apologized.”

“Well I’m sorry, now. If that means anything.” He mumbles the last part, apologies being a foreign art to him. “But you should be thanking me, actually. You have no idea what you were in for had you stuck around.”

“What?”

“Henry Haberstroh. He was gonna give you another one of those stupid bouquets of weeds.”

“The dandelion bouquets?” Your mouth hangs open at the revelation, remembering the boy with an incessant crush on you. A crush so intense in fact that he wouldn’t stop giving you bouquets of dandelions he’d picked from the grass— not until you’d agreed to a playdate with him despite being painfully uninterested.

“The gum idea was more of a last resort but I thought you might wanna get out of there. I mean, dandelions? You’re allergic to bees.”

“And how do you know this exactly?”

“As King of Primrose Park I was privy to information. And was subtlety ever Henry’s thing? The kid was a blabbermouth. He never shut up about you.”

“Well I must say I’m impressed, Cameron. That’s quite a scheme you pulled off. Not that you’re forgiven or anything. But Henry was a creep.”

“Couldn’t take a hint to save his life, either. I don’t think I’ve seen you run away from someone so fast, not even from me.” Rafe teases, nudging your arm with his as you giggled.

“The bees!”

Rafe gives you a look of disbelief, knowing damn well it wasn’t the pollinated dandelions you were running from.

“Seriously, I’m really allergic! But you already knew that?”

“What kind of secret admirer doesn’t know his admiree’s allergens?”

His blue eyes lock with yours, smiles replacing the scowls on both of your faces from earlier. You raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“Shame on Henry.” Rafe critiques, realizing the implication of his words.

“Yeah. Shame on Henry. But I wouldn’t call us even quite yet, so sleep with one eye open just in case.”

The two of you share a genuine laugh for the first time all day, before Rafe begins driving towards the next hole.

“Remind me to lock my windows when I get home.”

—

You move towards your ball once again, but gaze at your target uneasily. Maybe you still had a thing or two to learn about the sport. Rafe leans up against the cart, arms crossed and biceps stretching the fabric of his shirt much thinner. The tension was almost gone in comparison to how you started the afternoon. Almost.

Now looking at Rafe, it felt different. How could you be angry anymore? Holding a vendetta against him took too much energy at this point when it was no longer warranted.

To your luck, you could excuse the fiery feeling rising to your cheeks as a result of the sweltering sun. No matter how hard you tried, your former memory of him melted away. You could no longer see Rafe as the pesky little boy he once was. Perhaps a symptom of heat stroke, you thought. Hopefully it would be temporary, you still had the whole summer with Rafe ahead of you.

“I almost forgot you’re supposed to be teaching me how to play this joke of a sport.” You gripe. “Will you show me?”

Rafe bites his bottom lip to avoid cracking a smile. That you had finally cracked, giving in to ask him for help. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Leaning off the cart, Rafe saunters over to you. “I need you to start on your form first. May I?” He offered, gesturing to set his arms over yours for some adjustment.

With a slow nod, you decide to taunt him further. He’s not gonna get away that easy. “You’re not chewing any gum are you?”

“No, Y/n.” He responds, and you can just hear the smirk in his tone. Hearing your name roll off his tongue makes your stomach flutter— now feeling his body against yours, the heat increasing tenfold.

“Hold the club firmly, and swing through the ball, not at the ball.” He guides your arms with his, mimicking how to prepare for a swing. As his head peers over your shoulder, you swear you hear his breath hitch at the faint aroma of your perfume. Rafe almost seems relaxed, doing the movements with you a few times over again before stepping back to let you try it.

You do just as he taught you, and Rafe repeats the instructions under his breath as he watches you take your swing.

From the woosh of the ball leaving the grass, your eyes follow as it lands in a close proximity to the cup. With a scream of victory, your hands collide with Rafe’s in a high five, before wrapping your arms around his neck, his hand instinctively falling to rest at your waist as he pulls you into a hug. “Atta girl!” He marvels.

“I did it!” You cheer, smile beaming off your face. Once the initial shock wears off, you realize whose arms you’re engulfed in, stepping back from the embrace abruptly. “Uhm- I’m sorry. I didn’t…” You begin, trying to explain yourself and your sudden outburst of physical affection.

“Don’t apologize.” Rafe assures, reaching his hand out for yours. You accept it with a shy smile. “You did great for your first big swing. Can’t say I’m surprised, though, you do have one hell of a teacher.”

“He’s not bad.” You confess. “Actually, better than I thought.”

Rafe quirks an eyebrow, his cerulean orbs gazing into your eyes, finding for once they held not one drop of bad blood while looking back at him. He steps forward, the space keeping you both apart dwindling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t tell him I said that, it’ll go straight to his head.”

His eyes flicker from yours then to your glossed lips, which is the final straw before giving into your growing urge to kiss him. Rafe’s free hand clings to your cheek immediately as he deepens the kiss; as if a magnetic pull between you two had clicked.

Pulling away, the surprise on Rafe’s face is evident, but the confidence in his voice made it impossible to tell a difference. “I’m glad to see you came to your senses and forgave me.”

“Jumping to conclusions already? What makes you think you’re forgiven?”

Rafe shrugs, and that familiar look of pride returns to his expression. His thumb grazes across the apple of your cheek, and his hand gives a gentle squeeze to your waist. “Call it a wild hunch.”

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explosionkatsu · 1 year

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“Age doesn’t matter.” 1

Dad!Bakugou x FBabysitter!Sensei!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

The day that Katsuki married her, most of his friends kept advising him it was not a good idea, she was a walking red flag, and she only loves him for his wealth since being the second-ranked hero he is and holding his own agency, money isn't a problem to him.

Until he got her pregnant. After giving birth to his son, recuperating, and finally moving on her own again, she left him without any notice, not any letter. He just got home and frantically made his way to his wailing child in his crib. Katsuki immediately picked him up and made his way to the kitchen preparing his child a bottle for his formulated milk. As soon as he felt the milk was lukewarm, he tap the nipple of the bottle on his child’s lips and saw how his son starts sucking it.

That made Katsuki leave work for a month until he was able to ask for help. With the help of Mitsuki and Masaru, they took care of their grandchild in daylight, and when Katsuki got off from work, he would pick up his child and take care of him by the night. Even though his mom insisted to take care of her grandchild full-time, Katsuki declined and said that he wanted to take care of his own blood as much as he can.

Years passed and his now 7 years old son adores him very much. He saw how his father beat up the villain and save people. It makes him want to be a hero like him. Every time Katsuki would come and pick him up from his grandparents, he would reenact the moves Katsuki did making Katsuki smirk.

“Alright brat. Stop with that and pick up your stuff. Let's head in.” Katsuki said parking his car in his garage as he opens the door for his son to get off.

“You look so cool! And you went kick! And then bam!” the kid said as he went and pick up his things from the back seat.

“I know I am. Now let's go inside.” Katsuki said locking the car door and going inside their home.

Once they both settled, Katsuki changed from his work clothing to his normal clothing and starts preparing their dinner. “Oi. Don't forget to work on your assignment!” he yelled, receiving awe in response that made him chuckle.

Katsuki watched his son drag down his school bag making his way to the living room where the center table is.

“I heard from your teacher you’re doing well,” Katsuki said as he chopped the ingredients.

“I need to be good so that I can be strong like you!” his son said making Katsuki smirk.

“You think I’m strong?” Katsuki looked at his son who was working on his homework by himself.

“Mhm!!”

Katsuki took his time watching his son count his fingers before saying aha as if finding out the answer. When Katsuki continued his chopping, little did he know his son suddenly went quiet and stopped writing. He stared blankly at his unfinished homework before speaking up.

“Dad,” he called out softly.

“What?” Katsuki replied thinking that he might need his assistance with his homework.

“Why don't I have a mom?”

His question made him halt his chopping. He knows the answer to his question and yet he was hesitating to say it. He's too young to know that his mom suddenly left them when he was still a baby.

“I saw my classmates being picked up my their mom.” His son added.

“I could pick you up after school.” Katsuki glancing at him.

“I hate being left alone at school when Grandma can't pick me up.. Sometimes, Ms. Y/n would take me out with her and eat in a cafe.”

This he didn't know. “What?”

“Sometimes grandma and grandpa can't pick me up because they have a lot of clothes to make so I'm always left alone at school with Ms. Y/n”

Why doesn’t his mom tell him this?

“How long do you usually wait for them to pick you up?” Katsuki was pissed.

“It gets dark outside. Ms. Y/n would take me to her home and would cook for me! She's a great cook, dad!”

Katsuki will make sure he’ll discuss this with his parents.

“Sometimes, Ms. Y/n is like a momma to me! She take care of me. She wipes the dirt off my knees whenever I tripped. She has a small apartment though. But it's very clean!” Katsuki stared at his son as he rambles about his teacher. “And, and, Ms. Y/n has a healing quirk! It's very cool whenever I watch her heal someone, her hands are glowing! Although if it heals, she’ll get a wound out of nowhere..”

Katsuki is now interested. He has this eagerness to meet this teacher his son is talking about. He's been too busy being a hero to the point he relies on his parents to drop his son at school. But after what he heard, this is the first time he’ll drop his son to school.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n

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writermai05 · 2 months

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Arsonist's Lullabye

Prologue: All you have is your fire

Summary: Zuko’s bad day gets a bit better after an encounter with an unfamiliar face.

Pairing: zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated)

A/N: I am delusional, and when I had the idea for a zuko x reader modern AU where he works in Iroh’s boba tea shop, I had to follow through with said idea. Let’s see if this goes anywhere, and feel free to leave comments or suggestions on how the fic could play out maybe :)

Word Count: 773

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. This is a modern AU that takes place in the avatar world. Bending still exists. Zuko and the gaang are in college in this series !!

TW!: Physical abuse, burns, Ozai in general, Zuko’s backstory is so sad.

Zuko knew it was going to be a long day as soon as he opened the shop at 12pm.

Within the first two hours, he had run out of tapioca pearls, dropped a container filled with matcha on the floor (which by the way, was a pain in the ass to clean up,) and slipped on the floors he had just mopped. Perhaps he was just born unlucky. Perhaps, most people in life didn’t have to struggle the way that he was, the way that he always had. It wasn’t all bad. He was lucky enough to be here, working in his uncle’s tea shop in the Earth Kingdom, rather than in his father’s company back in the Fire Nation.

The Jasmine Dragon was beloved by many. People from all over the city came to have some of the shops' amazing teas and pastries. It wasn’t too busy, having only three people come in today. perhaps because school at the University of Ba Sing Se hadn’t quite started up yet, outside of the students who had moved in early. The shop was particularly chilly today, but the atmosphere managed to maintain the same warm and cozy feeling, with the dim atmospheric lighting and the sage and emerald hued furniture. Zuko had a second to just relax in the stillness.

He appreciated these quiet moments the most. The moments where he could stop worrying about the shop, and overthinking the worst things he had ever done in his life. Such as when he lashed out at his uncle, multiple times, or about the people he had bullied in high school. He was almost able to forget it all. Forget the fact that his younger sister, Azula, was still stuck in a house with his abusive father, or even forget the feeling of his father’s hand, burning the flesh of his face, leaving a scar in its wake, as well as a near complete blindness in his left eye. His demons may be restless, but boy did Zuko keep them on a tight leash.

Zuko’s reverie was broken by the sound of the door’s bell chime. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts, waiting patiently for his assistance to be needed.

“Um, excuse me,”

A girl, who seemed to be around his age, was standing right in front of him. She wore a navy blue dress with a pale blue lining and detailing around the edges. A belt of the same color was around her waist, with a brown leather cord connecting a bag onto her hip. Her black jacket was cropped to about rib length, with brown leather cords fastening it closed, as well as matching black pants and brown boots.

“This is my first time here…Is there anything that you’d recommend?” She asked politely.

There was something about the way her kind eyes twinkled in the orange lighting that made Zuko fluster. He cleared his throat before opening his mouth to talk.

“Well, Lychee juice is a customer favorite. But personally, my Uncle Iroh’s jasmine green tea is the best in Ba Sing Se.”

“The best in Ba sing Se?” She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“The best.” he nodded.

“I’ll take it.” She said, reaching to the tote bag slung over her shoulder. Zuko interrupted her actions with the wave of his hand.

Zuko shook his head. “Don’t worry, It’s on me.” he said, as he began punching numbers, into the register.

“Oh no! I can’t let you do that-” She protested.

He shrugged, a blush beginning to warm his cheeks. “For a first time customer.”

“Thank you so much…” She trailed off, waiting for him to tell her his name.

“Zuko.”

“Zuko. I’ll be sure to come by again. And I fully intend on paying that time.” She said with a playful glare.

The boy smiled slightly.

“Your tea will be ready shortly.”

Zuko had Iroh bring the tea over to the girl. He wasn’t confident in his ability to steadily bring the tray of hot tea without causing more burns to cover his body. The older man made sure to give the girl a complimentary fruit tart to enjoy, but not before looking at his nephew with a teasing glint in his eyes. Zuko groaned.

“Not a word, uncle.” He said as he walked through the staff doors into the shops’ kitchen.

After about 20 minutes had passed, Iroh came into the kitchen, clutching what looked like a napkin and some paper Yuan bills.

“Zuko! The girl left this on her table after she left!”

Zuko carefully took the napkin from his uncle’s hand, reading the message.

“Thanks for the tea! - y/n.”

#arsonist's lullabye #atla #atla live action #atla netflix #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #atla x reader #prince zuko imagine #modern au #college au #aang #katara #sokka #toph #zuko

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 2]

Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 2: Crewel and Crowley)

ie. Mr. Rogerson has awesome dalmatians and his wife makes even better cookies. Meanwhile, Crewel continues to be an emotionally constipated mess, and Crowley is... himself.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

You were met at the door by a pair of over enthusiastic dalmatians—the chaotically cute duo sending you ass-first to the office floor in a merry greeting that was more of a graceless tackle than anything else.

“You brought Poe and Perdy!” you exclaimed, laughing past the face kisses.

“Well, they’d never forgive me if I didn’t,” Mister Rogerson huffed good naturedly. “Do you know how much this little nutter cried when I came home the other day and he realized you’d been by? Ages, I’m telling you. Thought he was going to pout me into an early grave.”

You squished both of them affectionately and showered the lovely, spotted, beasts with every compliment under the sun.

“Oh! Before I forget…” the professor rustled around in his leather messenger bag and retrieved a neatly packaged pastry box all bundled up in a colorful, twine, bow. You accepted the treats happily and removed yourself from the dog-pile to take your usual place on the well-worn piano bench. “Annie made you some more cookies, seeing as you liked the last ones so much.”

“Did you help?” you asked.

“Hmm? What makes you say that?”

You held up the first treat from the pile—half-singed on one side and squishy with raw dough on the other.

“You caught me!” he laughed, and retrieved a second box. “These are from Annie. Those are my failures.”

“Such horrible lies,” you tutted, dramatic. “Trying to trick an innocent victim into ingesting poison just so that you can keep all the good ones for yourself.”

“Hey, they’re not that bad!” he defended, taking a large chomp out of one of the less charred looking of his creations. Immediately his cheeks went nearly green. “Or… maybe they are.”

You pushed a water bottle in his direction which he accepted gratefully. There was always a stash of them just to the left of his composer’s stand, and another hoard in a conspicuous looking storage cube closer to the piano at which you’d perched yourself. There were more sweets hidden in his desk drawers too, for when something stronger than water was needed to wash away whatever awful thing he’d tried to ingest. You knew where a lot of ‘secret’ things were in this room. It felt nice, to be so privy to all its little treasures.

“You know,” he smiled, finishing the last of his water with a final gulp. “Annie keeps pestering me to have you come by for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you hesitated, looking around the room where so many of your little odds and ends had already started to accumulate. Empty mugs, the patch that had fallen off your jacket, the thread which you’d intended to use to fix said patch. Just… little footprints showing you’d been by. “Well, any more at least.”

“Nonsense,” Mister Rogerson laughed. “You’re more than welcome! But we don’t mean to pressure you, of course! Especially if you’re busy! Just something to think about if you’d like. Anyways, how has your day been?”

And thus began your afternoon ritual. You would sit and split Annie’s delicious cookies as you rambled about your various grievances. Mister Rogerson would inevitably come and take a seat beside you on the piano bench and start playing some gentle strains of this or that—‘just little things he was working on,’ he’d said. Occasionally you’d accidentally lean on the keys, throwing the whole thing into a cacophonous mess. But he would just chuckle and replay whatever the piano had just screeched, calling it a ‘fascinating addition’ and merrily jotting bits of it into his notes. It was nice. Better than nice. And you didn’t realize just how comfortable you’d become in your daily chitchats until you’d become perhaps a bit too comfortable.

“It’s just been so exhausting. And on top of all the other ridiculous things, I’m so sick of that fact that it’s like my job to be their personal punching bags or whatever when they’re Overblotting all over the place, and—”

The piano cut off abruptly.

Mister Rogerson’s hazel eyes had gone wide, as if he was spooked. Immediately you realized that you’d said something that you should not have.

“There are students at Night Raven College who have Overblotted?” he asked, slow, like he couldn’t even believe the words were coming out of his mouth.

“What? No. Of course not!” you lied, like a liar.

“Kiddo,” he frowned, stern. “You just said—"

“—I mean, no one’s actually Overblotted, Overblotted,” you spluttered hastily, rifling frantically through your brain for every plausible excuse you could cough up. “It’s more that I’ve heard a lot about Blot, and how it becomes a—you know—Overblot. Which sounds really scary, and like something that I never, ever, want to actually see! And it’s just that everyone there is a mess, so I guess I should I have said that I’m more just worried about Overblotting.”

A pause.

“Which, again, I’ve never, ever, actually seen.”

More silence.

“…Ever.”

Mister Rogerson sighed, apparently relieved by your bullshitting, and slumped forward over the piano keys.

“That’s… That’s good. You really scared me there for a moment, kiddo. Overblots are no small matter. They have to be reported to the proper authorities and dealt with accordingly. It’s a whole fiasco, and paperwork and legal proceedings aside, it’s dangerous.” He laid a gentle hand across your shoulder. “I’m just glad you haven’t been anywhere near something like that.”

You swallowed a chunk of wayward cookie, hoping you didn’t look horrifically guilty. But then some other part of what he’d just rattled off stuck in your head and that shame was wiped away by panic.

“They’d be taken away?” you whispered, something unpleasant and nervous curling in your gut.

Mister Rogerson looked down at you with a sympathetic wrinkle to his brow. He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can. Does that make sense?”

You thought of Riddle, crying into his hands after years of emotional neglect—and then of the pair of you sitting in the Heartslabyul gardens after all was said and done, eating strawberry tarts with your fingers like little children. You thought of Leona, miserable and bitter as he was, finally breaking after an entire lifetime of feeling like nothing but a failure who slunk about in his brother’s shadow—and then how just last week the beastman had been lounging in the sun with his head in your lap, grouchily demanding your leftovers. You thought of Azul, and his bullies, and his stupid desire to take on the world just to prove he could. You thought of all the friends you’d made, and of just how many of them really needed a goddamn therapist. You thought about them being taken away to who-even-knew-where. Where you’d probably never see any of them again. And where you wouldn’t even know what was happening to them.

General grumpiness with the lot of them aside, your friends were the one, genuine, beacon of warmth in this miserable, cold, new world. Sure, they were all assholes. Mega assholes. But you knew that they’d stand by you through anything—do anything, if you needed the help.

And the idea of giving up on them? Just like that? Because it was protocol?

Your stomach roiled and you set the cookies off to the side.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Mister Rogerson frowned, taking in whatever unpleasant expression was no doubt twisting your face into knots. “We shouldn’t talk about it anymore. It’s not a fun topic.” He slid a new page of sheet music across the piano’s sleek, black, shelf. “Here. I started writing this the other day. What do you think?”

Strains of upbeat jazz threaded through the room and Perdy and Poe came over to mouth playfully at your ankles—no doubt begging for crumbs. Soon enough you were laughing along, clapping off beat and making jokes at the expense of his nonsense lyrics. You still liked Mister Rogerson. You liked him a lot. And you didn’t doubt that he was a genuinely kind person.

You’d just… maybe have to be a bit more careful about what you let slip.

“It’s kinda like being in therapy,” you explained to a very frustrated looking Deuce. “Like, how you want to say just enough to get help but not enough for them to throw you into an asylum. You feel?”

“What in the fuck are you on,” Ace gaped.

“See, if any of you actually even knew what therapy was, you’d get it.”

“I still can’t believe that’s where you’ve been every afternoon,” Deuce frowned, poking at his lunch with a consternated sort of look on his face. “Don’t you—I don’t know…”

“What?” you asked.

“Feel horrifically guilty and maybe like you should be burnt at the stake?” Ace complained, reaching over to swipe a fry from your plate. Grim hissed and swatted at his fingers—his little mouth stuffed too full of your half-eaten burger to yell much of anything else. “You’re a traitor, that’s what you are. Prancing around with those goody-two-shoes in their stupid, shiny, building every damn day like a—like a—”

“A frog?” Deuce suggested.

“What, no. Dude—”

“Frogs prance!”

“Frogs fucking jump, you ingrate—”

A heavy box landed on the table with a THUD, sending the quarrelling duo into silence. A mountain of homemade chocolate chip cookies stared back at them, nearly sparkling in their brilliance.

“Yes,” you intoned, stern. “It’s worth it.”

“It’s worth it,” Grim and Ace agreed heartily, already busy swapping their lunches for sweets.

Deuce sighed and reached for his own cookie. “If you’re sure...”

Being called into the Headmaster’s Office was not something with which you were unfamiliar. In fact, Crowley not having summoned you into his gloomy chamber over the past few weeks was more of an anomaly than not. Normally he was hurling new jobs at you left and right—organize this event, Prefect. Pick up my groceries, Prefect. The main hall is looking a little dirty, Prefect. Go stop my students from committing mass murder, Prefect. Maybe your wave of insults had rattled him enough to leave you alone for that little while. Or maybe he’d just been biding his time until he could think of something equally as nasty to say back.

Of all the things you were expecting upon trudging back into that office, a scowling Professor Crewel was not one of them.

You blinked owlishly, taken aback.

“Good afternoon, Professor.”

His lip curled, sour, and you fought the intense and suicidal urge to ask him just who’d pissed in his cornflakes that morning because damn. You hadn’t even done anything. That you could remember. Maybe. And besides, if either of you had any right to be acting all bitter and pissy it was you. Not Mister ‘I Have No Intention of Playing Parent to Anyone.’ The memory had your eyes stinging and your blood boiling all over again. When neither of the men deigned to greet you, you cleared you throat irritably and crossed your arms.

“Can I help you with something, Professor? Headmaster?”

“It has come to our attention that you’ve been sneaking off campus in the evenings,” Professor Crewel declared, with all the civility of an off-grid hermit. “Which I’m certain that you are fully aware is against school policy.”

Crowley just nodded, stiff lipped and robotic, and his silence immediately had you suspicious.

“Well?” Crewel snipped. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Then another.

You smiled, icy. “Then I’m sure this is just another infraction to add to my file. Which I’m very sure totally exists. Right, Headmaster?”

Crewel’s dark glower swiveled in Crowley’s direction, and you watched the Old Crow audibly gulp.

“Because of course, you keep proper records on all your students here,” you continued, happy to push your luck. “Especially the ones in special circumstances, and whose documentation is therefore not automatically forwarded to you by their previous schools. Right, Headmaster?”

You’d never seen a more apt demonstration of the expression ‘sweating bullets.’ It was intensely satisfying. Professor Crewel looked like he was heavily debating turning Crowley into a feather boa. After a too-long moment where you were pretty sure you were about to witness a murder, the two-toned professor sighed and turned back to you with a stiff sneer.

“It’s not safe,” he said, and you gaped at him.

“What?”

“It’s not safe,” he repeated, practically grinding his teeth. “What were you even thinking? Leaving Night Raven when you know full that you have no other connections in this entire world! Running off with a complete stranger on top of that.”

“Mister Rogerson isn’t a stranger!” you defended, resentment bubbling beneath your skin. How dare he? Now he cared? Now you weren’t just a leech, or a brat, or—or—No. It wasn’t fair. “And it’s not like I ran off into the woods or something! I’m at another school!”

Crowley slammed his clawed hands down onto his desk with a metallic BANG!

“AH-HAH! YOU ADMIT IT!” he howled. “YOU’VE BEEN GOING TO THE ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY BEHIND OUR BACKS!”

“I left you a note telling you that was exactly where I was!”

“YOU’VE BEEN CONSORTING WITH OUR ENEMY! AND AFTER I’VE WORKED SO HARD TO RAISE YOU AS MY OWN!” He wailed, inconsolable. “ARE YOU TRADING OFF MY GRIMOIRE TO AMBROSE, TOO? WOULD YOU STOP AT NOTHING TO SHATTER MY POOR HEART?!”

“I don’t even know what that means, but I wish I was!”

“Enough!” Crewel snarled, cracking his pointer across the desktop. “Both of you!”

“But he—!” you defended.

“Detention!” he barked.

“What?! That’s no fair!—”

“Detention!” he snapped again. “Three weeks!”

“Are you joking?! I didn’t even do anything!—”

“Four weeks,” he growled.

You pressed your lips shut, feeling your mouth wobble and your eyes warm with frustrated tears.

“Yes, sir,” you finally managed to grit out, and then turned without another word and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind you.

‘That may have been too much,’ Crowley had the gall to say to him, after Crewel had just watched the man have an entire meltdown in his desk chair and accuse you of outright subterfuge.

‘That may have been too much.’

The alchemist had watched, carefully stone faced, as your eyes had welled and you’d glared him down with a look that was a step or two past betrayed. Something tightened uncomfortably in his chest, and he refused to put a name to it. Naming things gave them power, allowed them to grow and spread. Like a tumor. This was all your own doing, and the subsequent punishment was clearly for your own good. So, what? He steps a bit too far and says something that’s perhaps just a bit too cold, and you go running off to—to Cliff Rogerson of all people? Pettiness is not an excuse for making poor, stupid, unsafe, decisions. And he would have certainly responded to any other student in exactly the same fashion.

‘That may have been too much.’

Crewel grit his teeth and fought the urge to run his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally he could use Badun as a stress ball, but he’d stopped bringing the dogs to campus when you’d continued to refuse to show up to his office. It had stressed them terribly, and it was unfair to force them to sit through the same, dull, solitude that he had to endure just on the off chance that you may change your mind and come wandering in. Jasper hardly acknowledged him at all anymore—only grumbled at him miserably when he returned in the evenings before curling up by the fireplace for the rest of the night.

‘That may have been too much.’

It… It really, probably, was. And he really should… apologize, shouldn’t he?

Divus Crewel could deny it all he liked, but he knew well and good that he wouldn’t have treated your classmates in such a manner. That unnamed twinge behind his ribs may have influenced his reaction a bit more than it should have, especially when he himself had so clearly relegated your place in his life to ‘by professional association only.’

So he forced himself to straighten his fur coat and start the trek to Ramshackle. It was a grueling walk, with broken pathways and rivers of mud. No wonder you were always running late to things. Perhaps he should bring this up to Crowley, and—

A familiar face stopped him in his tracks, and a wave of red-hot irritation worked its way through his veins as efficiently and viciously as one of the poisons he was so keen to brew.

“Oh,” Cliff Rogerson blinked back at him, “Divus! Good to see you.” It was not. It didn’t sound like Cliff thought it was either.“No need to call campus security or anything. I’m just here to pick up the Prefect for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Crewel repeated. It sounded bitter in his mouth.

“Annie’s making lasagna,” Cliff stage-whispered, like a secret.

“Can we get going?” you called and Crewel startled, noticing you off to the side for the first time. You looked so… small, for some reason. Hunched, maybe. Just, not your usual larger-than-life self—the Otherworldly Hero who showed up swinging to every fight, always armed to the teeth and ready to duel any monster, every horror. It made something in his gut twist unpleasantly. “I’m starving.”

“Of course, kiddo,” Cliff laughed and tossed an arm across your shoulders.

“How lovely,” Crewel interrupted, trying and failing to force the steel from his voice, “But I think that maybe you should reexamine your professional priorities. That hardly seems appropriate.”

“Oh, come now,” Cliff smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “It’s only dinner. And besides,” he chuckled, and gave your arm a fond squeeze, “Annie and I have always wanted kids.”

‘I have no intention of playing parent to anyone.’

A deep, cold, sort of dread rattled through Divus Crewel’s bones and settled all the way in the pit of his stomach. It was similar to the sensation that had been slowly clawing its way through him these past few weeks—the very same unpleasantness that he had refused to name.

‘You know,’ Crowley’s grating voice swam through his head once more. ‘That really may have been too much.’

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #My Writing #NRC Staff #NRC Staff x Reader #Divus Crewel x Reader #Dire Crowley x Reader #The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting #Heroes vs. Villains #Crewel x Reader #twisted wonderland OCs #twst ocs #Divus Crewel #Dire Crowley #Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 2

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eyrina-avatar · 10 months

Text

Explaining Periods to The Sullys

synopsis: reader explains what a period is to the Sully kids (with the help of kiri)

pairings: neteyam x reader implied couple(aged up), reader x sully kids + spider

genre: idk, informative??/ comedy???

author's note: you guys didn't forget about dr. max patel, right? I barely see him in anyone's writing. proofread once

warnings: mention of female bodies(?), periods, blood, slight gun mention(nothing violent), maybe a few swear words, slight suggestive comment, slight stabbing threat(threat was made as a joke- calm down guys)

word count: 1.6k words

"OOF" you rubbed your forehead as your butt had just landed on the floor.

"I'm always forgetting that my avatar form is taller than my human body" you sighed as you got up.

"This is the third time this week that you've bumped into that doorpost" Norm snickered before hitting himself on the light bulb above him that was illuminating the lab.

"Crap" he murmured, rubbing the top of his head in pain.

"Ha!" you let out in retaliation.

Spider and Lo'ak laughed at the scene unfolding while Kiri and Neteyam rolled their eyes.

"Anyways, what was it that you kids wanted from the lab?" Norm squinted at the Sully kids, weary of their intentions.

"We just wanted to see where it is that y/n does all of her experiments" Lo'ak responded as he played around with the light fixtures, flipping through some different light colors illuminating a plant.

"Whatever, just don't break anything or the top scientist with have my head for any more expenses." Norm warned

"It's alright, Norm. I'm watching them. They won't break anything. And if they do, I won't take Lo'ak hunting again." You reassured him.

"Hey, what do I have to do with that! You know if you don't teach me how to use one of those rifle thingies then I'll have to wait for my dad. And you know how that is. The last time he taught me was months ago, he's been too busy teaching Neteyam." Lo'ak side eyed his older brother.

"Pff, it's not my fault that you're not responsible enough and that dad gets nervous every time you have a gun in your hands." Neteyam shot back.

"But-"

"Then you'll just have to stop touching everything you see in the lab, Lo'ak. You see? Easy peasy. Problem solved. Then you won't break anything and I can give you your next lesson tomorrow." You patted Lo'ak's back and gave Norm a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry,' you mouthed and turned around, focusing your attention on the Sully kids.

"So, what's the plan?" you tilted your head in question.

"Well, I've gotta get a new oxygen tank for my mask and-" Spider headed for the cabinets

"SPIDER, are you for real?"

"What?" he shook his shoulder in question.

"You're still using those crappy RDA masks that need a wire and oxygen tank and all of that. I thought Norm gave you the new ones, from my research company."

"You own a company?" Max teased as raised his eyebrows at you.

"No... you know what I mean. I mean the science department that I'm part of. The new scientists that came to Pandora after your disastrous RDA was kicked out." You shot a look at the doctor.

"Really, you didn't have to go that far..."

"Oh, lighten up Max." you patted his shoulders. "Anyways, where are those new masks? Spider needs one, he's still using those outdated ones."

"Really, those old masks shouldn't even work anymore." Max shook his head and handed Spider a mask, "Here you go, kid."

"I thought Norm gave him one." Max crossed his arms while conversing.

"Nah, I guess Norm's been too distracted with the Na'vi school he took over after Grace" You shrugged.

"Yea... well, see you later guys, I have some more research to work on." he waved before walking away.

"So, Spider, let's get this thing on. All you have to do is take off all of those wires and that old mask. Next, just put this one on like you did the old one and adjust it and it should start working immediately." You helped Spider with the process while Kiri visited her mother's avatar body.

"No tank or anything?" Spider questioned.

"Nope, this has a little filter thing that automatically filters out the carbon and nitrogen inside the mask. No more heavy tank for you to use." You threw the old air tank to the disposal pile and was headed towards one of your plants before being interrupted by Lo'ak.

"Hey y/n, what's this?" Lo'ak held up a packet of pills.

"Lo'ak, put that back." Neteyam scolded before snatching the pills from his hand and placing it back on your table.

"It says, birth-control," Lo'ak scrunched his eyebrows while reading the words on the wrapper.

"Take once a day to prevent pregnancy..."Spider read aloud before putting the pills back.

"Woah..." Lo'ak and Spider let out in unison before giving you and Neteyam looks.

"Are you guys...doing ummm...having errr" Lo'ak stumbled as tried to get the words out of his mouth.

"First of all, that's none of your business! Second, those pills aren't even for my avatar body. They're for my human body, and not for what you think it is."

"Then for what?" Spider raised his eyebrows at you.

"They're for my period. But only for my human body because my avatar doesn't get periods." You sighed in having to explain periods to fifteen-year-old boys.

"What's a period?" Lo'ak asked.

"Women things." Kiri responded as she rolled her eyes at her brother's nosiness.

"And how would you know? You're a na'vi." Spider interrogated.

"Because girls talk to girls about things they don't talk to boys about. Duh." Kiri shot back.

"So, what is it?" Lo'ak waved his hands in question.

"Yea, what's a, um- a period? Isn't that the little dot that goes at the end of a sentence? At least that's what Norm taught me..." Spider trailed off.

"Yea, you're partially correct, Spider," you gave a small nod as you thought about how you were going to explain things.

"But umm.. I'm talking about a different type of period called menstruation. It's when a female human bleeds for 5-7 days straight each month." you let out as you saw Spider's and Lo'ak's faces change from curiosity to shock.

"L M F A O- Is that how you spell it? FIVE TO SEVEN DAYS STRAIGHT?? You've got to be kidding me. You don't expect us to believe that, right? I mean, sometimes Spider and I do dumb things but you don't expect us to be stupid enough to fall for that, right?" Lo'ak simply stared at you, waiting for a response.

"No, she's right. You guys could definitely learn a thing or two about humans." Neteyam rolled his eyes at his younger brother's ignorance.

"Wait, wait, wait," Spider held his arms out in shock, "You actually bleed for up to a week and don't die? How the hell do you not die?"

"And why do you bleed for that long? And from where are you bleeding?" Lo'ak pitched in.

"She's bleeds from her pu-"

"Kiri." Neteyam warned.

"What? It's true. Might as well be blunt with these two skxawngs." Kiri rolled her eyes again.

"So basically, when a human female starts getting more physically mature, sorta like coming of age.. Her body starts preparing for pregnancy every month. It basically lines the uterus and gets ready for a baby. When the body sees that there is no baby, the uterus starts shedding it's lining for about 5-7 days until it's cleaned up. The shedding comes out in blood and that's what causes the bleeding."

"..."

"What?" You cocked your head in question.

"So basically, because you didn't get knocked up, your body bleeds?" Lo'ak squints his eyes, trying to understand the information he was just given.

"What's so hard about that?" Spider shrugged.

"WH- WHAT'S SO HARD ABOUT THAT?! Are you guys kidding me or what?" You mouth drops at the nonsense you hear coming from the younger boy's mouth.

"You bimbos, it's not just bleeding. It involves many symptoms such as heavy cramping, back pain, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, mood swings, headaches, appetite changes , and more." Kiri stated as she crossed her arms.

"So the symptoms of a cold, big deal." Spider spat out, trying to minimize the severity of everything.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you just say big deal? Maybe I should put a fucking knife in your stomach to see if that's a big deal or not because that's what the cramps feel like. Or maybe, better... I should kick you in the fucking balls, right?" You lashed out at the boy in front of you.

"Damn, chill, he didn't mean it, right, Spider?"Lo'ak tried to calm the situation, "Maybe she's on her period right now..." he whispered.

"Avatars don't have periods you dingbat" Neteyam let out.

"Well maybe her human form is experiencing cramps in the link pod and so the emotions are traveling through the conscious connection and that's why she's so cranky." Spider stepped back, not trying to get on your bad side.

"..."

You only blinked in response as Kiri and Neteyam bursted out laughing.

"What in the name of eywa..."

"I've never heard so much bullshit come out of someone's mouth before." Neteyam shook his head at the human boy's imagination. "You know, y/n told me that humans usually read a big guide book before joining the avatar program... well maybe you should read one on human biology. It's only fitting since you're ehh, you know..." Neteyam trailed off.

"Ha, I'm glad I wasn't the one to say something stupid this time" Lo'ak applauded himself.

"Nah, you too Lo'ak. How about you read it with Spider so you can both giggle at the pictures and whatever shit you two happen to read" you turned away from the boys as you went back to examining the plants you were experimenting on.

"Does she really bleed from her va-" Lo'ak was cut off.

"And for a week straight..." Spider chimed in.

"Shut up!" Kiri's voice rang through your ears as you quietly giggled to yourself.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

should I make more fics like this; reader teaching the sullys some human things? Tell me what you think!

as always, comments/reblogs are much appreciated❤

do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad

colors used: #01DBFA and #01B3CC

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slayfics · 9 months

Text

Katsuki says he’s sorry.

Warnings: Katsuki aged up | alcholo use

You threw your phone angrily on your bed. Ignited by furry from the last text you received from Katsuki. He always knew how to get under your skin, but tonight went just a little too far.

You looked out your window and a sudden realization occurred to you. You hadn’t really been out with your friends in a while. The last few months your days had been filled with sneaking out to see Katsuki or sneaking him in through your window.

Your finger grazed a part of the window frame that he had damaged once coming in. You let out a sigh and picked up your phone to beg a friend to go out with you. You desperately needed a break from the ups and downs of your relationship.

Your friend excitedly agreed to meet you, having been a while since they’d seen you. You quickly got ready and waited outside for them to pull up.

“Hey! I was beginning to think my best friend was a ghost,” your friend laughed rolling down their car window and beckoning you to come in.

“I know I’m sorry things have been kinda different lately,” you replied getting into the car.

“It’s ok, no need to tell me I know you are busy with your scary UA boyfriend,” your friend teased you. Your best friend was the only person you’d entrusted to tell about your relationship with Katsuki.

“Yeah…” you mumbled and looked out the window.

“Uh-oh, trouble with Mr. Hothead?” Your friend asked.

“He just really pissed me off today and I want to forget about it for a bit.” You said still staring out the window as your friend began to drive.

“What? That guy pissing you off? No way he seems like such a sweetheart,” your friend continued to tease, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m just kidding, say less I know exactly what you need!”

“What's that?” You said finally turning to face your friend.

“To go out drinking and dancing of course!” They responded enthusiastically now having a destination in mind.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your destination. Immediately getting inside your friend pulled you to the bar to grab a drink. Already you started to feel a bit better.

Meanwhile, Katsuki angrily glared at his phone. He knew he went a bit too far with his insult, but were you really not going to text him back? Being ignored cut through him sharper than any comeback could have.

Katsuki yelled and threw his phone. He hated this. He hated being so angry all the time, but he couldn’t help it. He did it to himself. The pressure he put on himself, the way he’d ignore his actual emotions and mask them with anger.

He never cared when it pushes others away, but you… He didn’t want to push you away, but he couldn’t say sorry to you either. That just wasn’t in him. Katsuki threw on a sweater and stomped out of the house.

He’d just have to show up at your window again, that was the only option he decided.

He had walked the route from his house to yours so many times, that he got there in no time. Jumping up and climbing up to your window pane had become a muscle memory to him.

You had left your window slightly ajar when you left making it easy for him to enter. He looked around noticing you weren’t there. He sat on your bed hoping maybe you were just downstairs grabbing some water or something. Until he realized a pair of your shoes were missing and your purse wasn’t in its usual spot.

That was when he understood, you weren’t home at all. Where could you have been? Why weren’t you texting him back? Letting out a grunt, Katsuki stood up, and left out your window determined to find you.

Your friend had stuffed more than enough drinks in you to easily convince you onto the dance floor. However, it didn’t take long for you both to decide it wasn’t enough and swiftly make your back through the crowd of people to the bar.

“Ok, what do you think we should try this time?” You asked your friend.

“Hmm good question,” they replied looking around to get some ideas

“I’d gladly pick out both your next drinks for you,” a stranger had called out standing next to you both at the bar.

“Oh, that’s nice of you!” Your friend responded blinking sweetly fawning over the random man’s attention.

“And what drinks would you suggest?” You asked.

Just when the man opened his mouth to respond someone shot out from behind you and slammed the man’s face onto the bar.

The man fell to the floor and you looked up to see Katsuki as his assaulter.

“Katsuki! What are you doing?!” You yelled, taken by surprise at his arrival. Your friend bent down to check on the man.

“He was staring at you.” He responded, with his explanation for attacking the man.

“Of course he was, we were having a conversation!” You argued back.

“No you don’t understand the way he was looking at you-“ Katsuki tried to explain but you cut him off.

“Don’t you see I’m here to get away from you!” You yelled back. Others around the bar had now started to take glances at the both of you.

“We’ll you can’t just ignore me!” He yelled back.

“Yes! Yes, I can!” You responded, grabbing your friend's hand and pulling her onto the dance floor with you. The man she had been trying to help get back up fell back down crashing onto the floor.

Your friend reluctantly danced with you, while taking glances at Katsuki who did not move. He stayed in the same spot watching you both arms crossed against his chest.

“Maybe he’s trying to apologize in his own way?” Your friend suggested.

“I don’t care!" You spat back refusing to look in his direction.

“Oh come on, he looks so sad over there.” Your friend nudged you. You still refused to look and kept dancing with your friend.

“He just assaulted a random guy at the club!” You argued.

“Yeah but- we probably shouldn’t have been talking to a stranger in the first place. He was kind of looking out for us.” Your friend rationalized. “Besides you can fate a soon-to-be pro hero and not expect them to do some extreme stuff every once in a while.”

“Ugh-“ you signed and rolled your eyes. “Fine- I’ll bring him over to dance with us. But only because if I don’t he’s just going to keep staring like a creep!” You said and made your way over to him.

You started to make your way back to Katsuki doing come-hither dance moves at him. Katsuki just rolled his eyes and looked away before quickly glancing back at you. He pretended as if he was indifferent about you approaching him but the truth was it melted away the anxious feeling in his stomach that had been eating at him.

Finally approaching him, you grabbed his hand and tried to pull him onto the dance floor. However, he did not budge.

"I don't dance," He said dryly.

"Ugh fine-," You let out an exasperated sigh. "Then you're buying me a drink since you won't let anyone else do it," You teased, dragging him to the bar.

Katsuki was fine with your new plan and ordered you both a drink. You swiftly downed yours causing Katsuki's eyes to widen.

"Alright well, I'll leave you to your creepy staring then," You said and began to walk back to your friend on the dance floor. Katsuki reached up and grabbed your wrist holding you back. You turned to face him with furry in your eyes.

He mumbled something under his breath that was impossible to hear with the loud music playing.

"What did you say?" You asked.

Katsuki just mumbled again, barely any louder than the first time.

"Katsuki, you have to speak up. I can't hear you over the music," You said annoyed.

"I'm sorry..." You barely heard the words leave his mouth. You froze in place having heard those words leave his mouth. You knew how hard it was for him to ever admit he was wrong. Still, in disbelief, you moved closer to him kissing the tip of his nose.

"I forgive you Katsuki," you responded.

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slytherinsallows · 6 months

Text

4 heads are better than 3…

Mc X Sebastian X Ominis X Garreth smut

Summary: Mc just can’t decide between her 3 situationships so decides to test them all out again… at once 🌶️🌶️🌶️ 18+!! Characters are aged up, minors dni!

A/N: So over on my tt acc I made an ai audio series on how Sebastian, Garreth, Ominis and Mc come to be in a poly relationship together, and I thought I’d write some smut leading up to that. This is my first ever smut fic so bear with me 😭 but I hope you enjoy and lmk your thoughts or any other ideas you have I could write ;)

The last few nights had been… well, frustrating for Mc. Each night, as if on queue, she’d wake up, panties soaked through with her wetness, and head in a frenzy of dirty thoughts and confusion. It didn’t help that she had already felt what all of them felt like, pulsing inside of her walls… but the more she dreamt, the more holes she craved to be filled, and she couldn’t ignore it any longer…

She knew she had to talk to the boys to explain her frustrations… but she feared they’d never be up for it, at least not all three of them on her at once? She sighed, tossing and turning in her bed, trying to get back off to sleep, wondering which boy would take which hole of hers in the next dream, a nightly dilemma. Would they fight over who gets to use which hole? She imagined all of them deep inside her, upset this was a dream, not reality. It was agonising.

The next morning at breakfast, she sat down on the Slytherin table, next to Ominis and Sebastian, the same as any usual day. Sebastian immediately noticed her change in demeanour, his smile creeping into a smirk. “Did you forget to put your skirt on today, dear?” He chuckled, eliciting a surprised gasp from her and Ominis. “W-what the hell do you mean, Sallow? I’m-“ she looked down at her thighs, her skirt was there, but definitely A LOT higher than usual… had she done this subconsciously due to her deliriously horny state? She immediately blushed and scrambled to pull it down, so it would at least cover her, already slightly wet, panties.

Ominis cleared his throat. “If it makes you feel any better dear, you know I saw nothing” his lips curved into a warm smile, one that could melt even the most frozen of hearts. “Thank you ominis…” she smiled back at the boy, before turning and glaring at Sebastian.

“What! It wouldn’t be the first time you forgot your clothes in front of me” He teased her.

“It’s 9 in the morning, Sebastian. We’re trying to eat.” Ominis rolled his blind eyes.

“I overslept… so I got ready in a rush, nothing more” she assured Seb, playfully swatting him with the mornings daily prophet. “Oh of course…”

“Anyway..” Mc went on, squirming slightly as she felt the heat inside of her rising looking at the two boys. They always looked so effortlessly handsome, and it really wasn’t helping her… situation. She cradled her cup of orange juice as she decided to bite the bullet. “So I heard the three broomsticks are having like an event on tonight, I might invite Garreth too, if you want to come?” She explained.

Before either boy could reply, Garreth came up behind her, “I heard my name?” He chuckled, perching on the seat next to mc, earning a disapproved look from the rest of the slytherins on the table.

“Oh garreth! I was just saying we should all go to the three broomsticks tonight! They’ve got a thing on, It looks like a lot of…fun” she struggled to get the last word out as she felt a swarm of butterflies gather inside of her stomach, knowing all the boys were looking at her. This was the only thing she could think of on the spot to get them all in one place with no questions asked… and then she could propose the question.

“Sounds good, I’m in” Sebastian said, muffled slightly with a mouthful of toast. Ominis looked in Sebastian’s direction, a look of distaste at his mannerism. “Mhm… me too.”

“Then I’m going too!” Garreth beamed, in his usual excitable nature. Mc’s heart raced as they all agreed, preparing herself for the night ahead…

The evening rolled around fast, and the event itself was a lot of fun, Sebastian and Garreth arguing over the quiz answers while Mc laughed at them and Ominis tutted at their boyishness. They were all slightly tipsy, having maybe one butter beer too many to be completely sober. As the event finished and they were walking back to the castle, she braced herself for the question she gathered them all up for in the first place.

“Hey Mc… you keep going on about this ‘room of requirement’ business but we’ve never actually seen it, I think it’s about time you showed us your little secret room” Garreth winked.

“Bet it’s a sex room. That’s why she hasn’t showed us, you naughty little minx” Sebastian teased her, brushing his hand against her waist. She took this as the perfect opportunity.

“Oh yeah definitely” she rolled her eyes. “But by all means you should all come…in” she gulped.

The boys followed her in to the ror, amazed at how nice it was in there. “Fuck mc…the size of that bed all of us could shag you” Sebastian teased, jokingly.

Her cheeks lit up a fiery red. “Well.. this might’ve been the reason I wanted you all with me tonight.

The three boys jaws dropped at her words, expecting anything but that to come out. “I’m sorry dear, I think I misheard you… you want all three of us… at once?” Ominis questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Y-yes… I can’t stop thinking about you three, and it’s agonising! You all tease me in different ways and at this point I’m having to change panties like after every class because of how wet you all get me. I just need-“

Before she can even finish her sentence, Sebastian grabs her face and pulls her in. He kisses her hungrily, as if the boy hadn’t been fed in years, groans escaping his lips as he pushes her back onto her bed. “Oh my god” she pants as he pulls away, smirking at her, motioning for garreth to join in on the fun. She rips off Garreths tie and jacket, craving to feel every inch of his chest and back as he kissed her deeply, their tongues sliding against each other frantically. Ominis was lost in all of this, despite his lack of sight, the sounds were just too much for him and he already had a visible bulge forming as he crept onto the bed. “Let me have a go with her” he demanded softly, the other two boys moving aside while pawing at their aroused members through the fabric.

Ominis caressed her face as his lips met hers, his member only growing bigger and harder as he kissed her passionately. “Fuck my angel…I wanna touch every inch of you” he groaned, earning a rapid nod from Mc.

“We need to do something about all these clothes though first, don’t we?” He smirked, skilfully undoing the buttons on her blouse while kissing up and down her neck, her legs trembling already from the action.

“Let me help” Sebastian offered, positioning his face between her thighs and kissing up them slowly, stopping every now and then to suck on them, making sure to leave hickeys as his possessive side started to unveil itself. He tugged off her pitiful excuse for a skirt, tutting as he did so.

“You’re so pathetic my love, it was obvious you wanted this from the start, teasing us wearing these invisible skirts” he said before returning to work on her thighs.

“Maybe… you should’ve just taken me as punishment then and there” she offered, trying her best to hold back her moans.

“Trust me I’m working on it love” Sebastian growled as he found himself at her panties, which were soaked to the core. “So eager for us aren’t you?” He teased as he circled her core through the fabric, causing her to grab Garreths thigh in her squirming.

“Fuck” Garreth moaned as her hand trailed up to his cock, which was threatening to burst out of his clothes at this point. Mc notices this before turning to stroke it softly, feeling it pulse through the farbic. “Garreth…” she looked up at him innocently.

“Yes… fuck mc”

“I want to suck it” she groaned in frustration at how it was still hidden from her, pouting at the redhead. Garreth smiled before removing his trousers, leaving Mc to take it from there. There was a little wet patch of pre cum already staining his boxers. Mc watches in awe, for a moment ignoring the other two boys’ actions, greedily pulling them down as his member springs out from them. It was big, probably around 7 inches and super thick. She circles the head with her tongue, as if she was savouring the taste of a lollipop. Garreth tilts his head back in pleasure as she attempts to take in more and more of him. She was so desperate, she needed them…

“Looks like you’re having fun Mc…” Sebastian chuckled as he looked up. Before she could acknowledge his words, he grabbed her waist, forcing her onto her hands and knees, whilst ominis was still under her kissing her erect nipples. He pushed one finger into her folds, earning him a cry of pleasure. “Fuckkk you’re desperate for these to be filled aren’t you” he moaned to himself, examining his soaking wet finger. Mc nodded eagerly, her mouth still latched onto Garreths cock, which had taken to thrusting into her mouth.

“How would you like this hole stretched out for a change?” He enquired as he slapped her ass, tracing along her pink hole. “Yes. I need you Sebastian” she gagged, her head still bobbing on Garreths cock. As Sebastian started massaging her ready for his length , she turned to Ominis who had been quietly working kisses all over her body.

She felt his cock throbbing underneath her and she wanted to hop on it so badly. She grinded on Ominis, causing his face to flush pink. “Are you gonna ride me like a good girl, my darling?” Ominis smiled, positioning her hips so that her pussy was hovering above his cock, but Sebastian still has access to her other hole. “I need it Omi!” she almost screamed out, using her free hand to rub circles on her clit.

Ominis pushed her hips down onto his member, listening to her moans of pleasure as if it were music as she sat down properly on it. “You’re so big” she cried out as Ominis started to buck his hips up, thrusting his large member deeper inside of her walls. “And you’re so fucking tight” he growled, unleashing a side to himself she’d rarely get to see, but all the while she loved it.

“Are you ready for another cock my love” Sebastian smirked as he watched his best friend fuck her, and it only made him hornier. Mc nodded frantically, not even noticing that her other hole was heavily loosened from Seb’s work. Seb slowly pushed himself in, throwing his head back in ecstasy from how delicious she felt. Something clicked within Mc then, the realisation that all three of the men’s cocks were inside of her, filling her up to the brim. She felt like she could burst but in the best possible way…

Once she got used to the new sensation and Sebastian was happily humping away at her pink hole, she turned her attention back to garreth who was eagerly face fucking her. “Mc… I think I’m close….” he breathed as his cock reached the back of her throat. As he shot his load into her delicate mouth she moaned loudly, some dribbling out down her lips and dripping onto her breasts. The sensation of Garreths warm cum shooting down her throat alone was enough to tip her over the edge, she gripped the bed sheets as Ominis tried to steady himself as her walls gripped tightly around his member. Tears spilled out of her eyes as she rode out her high, dying for the feeling of her walls gripping around Ominis and Sebastians cocks, which were still pumping deep inside of her holes.

“That was… fuck” she breathed, the cum still dribbling down her chin as she looked back at them. That image of her, her perfect ass bouncing with every thrust, Garreths cum all over her face, her pussy wrapped around Ominis’ cock sent Sebastian over the edge next. He collapsed over her as he came, shooting his hot seed into the dead end of her hole. He rest his head on her shoulder, panting and satisfied. Ominis groaned at the sight, gripping her hips and using her as his little toy. “I’m gonna cum in you Mc…” but before he could even think about pulling out of her walls he tipped over the edge and released inside of her, Mc biting down on his neck as she felt the warmth from all the boys cum circulating inside of her.

“Oh my god” she cried as Ominis came down from his high, finally feeling that certain type of pleasure she had been chasing for weeks now. “I’m so sorry Mc…” Ominis whispered as he came back around, lifting her off his cock gently. “No ominis, it’s okay” she giggled, ”I needed that… fuck… and we’ll be fine, I’m on the pill” she smiled at his concern for her. “Oh good…god” Ominis fell back, his cock still pulsating from all the arousal.

Sebastian slowly pulled out of her, smirking slightly. “In that case…” he trailed off before pumping two of his fingers into her pussy, shoving Ominis’ seed deeper into her womb. “S-seb” she moaned from the overstimulation. Garreth already felt himself getting hard against watching the sight, touching himself as he did. “You like that don’t you…you little slut” Sebastian growled into her ear. “You love being used by all of us like the little whore that you are hm?”

Mc was in heaven right now, unable to fully listen to Sebastian’s degrading speech. She nodded, moaning as Ominis seed spilled deeper and deeper. She came again around Sebastian’s slick fingers, gripping his messy brown hair as she did. Sebastian pulled them out, “like I said… you’re our little whore” he kissed her temple before sucking her wetness of his fingers.

She collapsed on Ominis chest, her body still trembling from the extreme pleasure they had given her.

“Round two anyone?”

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow smut #ominis gaunt smut #garreth weasley smut #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfiction #garreth x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x mc x sebastian

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

Text

The Urge

AN: Beomgyu is a menace, and I have a lot of feelings about him. Told y'all he was going to be next lol. Him and Taehyun are just *stressed noises.*

Synopsis: Beomgyu knew it wasn't right, and he was being a dirty, disgusting pervert but, he just couldn't help himself when it came to you.

Heads up: Choi Beomgyu x Fem! Reader, roommates AU, mostly pwp, Perv! Beomgyu, panty stealing, panty sniffing, scent kink (if that's even what it's called lol. Beomgyu gets off on how Reader smells), masturbation (both Beomgyu and Reader), Dom(ish)! Beomgyu, dirty talk, pet names, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pretty irresponsible unprotected piv sex, Pussy whipped! Beomgyu, vibrator used during sex and creampie.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

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When Beomgyu first met you, he had the faintest feeling that living with you wasn't going to bode well for him.

And he had been proven right as the months had passed.

He thought you were beautiful the moment he saw you, but his attraction to you was only made worse as you two became friends relatively quickly.

Which made him feel all the more guilty every time he fantasised about you. How could he not though? You were ridiculously hot, and Beomgyu was convinced you walked around in as little clothing as possible around the apartment. Your nipples visible through your flimsy shirts and your sleeping shorts, always hugging your ass and thighs in ways that make his blood immediately rush south.

He wondered if your thighs were as soft as they looked. How you'd whine and cry out if he were to spank your ass until you couldn't sit properly for days. Would you let him cover your tits in his his cum?

All these thoughts pushed him to madness. He could barely function around you anymore.

That's how he finds himself in his current predicament, with one of your worn panties in his hands. He knows he's crossing several lines here, but something in him just snapped when he saw them at the top of the laundry pile. Practically begging him to grab them. So, he did.

His hands shake slightly as he inspects them. They're a pretty, pastel pink, and he groans lowly as he imagines them against your skin. His cock already hardening in his boxers. He reaches down to grab himself as he takes his first whiff of you, and the effect on him is immediate. He doesn't need to stroke himself much until he's fully hard, your scent making his mind hazy.

He closes his eyes and remembers that one time he accidentally walked in on you fresh out of the shower. You look mortified and your arms immediately rushed to cover your tits and your pussy but, fuck, Beomgyu saw more than enough. He apologised profusely and immediately rushed out, but he'd never forget the sight of your damp skin and naked body as long as he lived.

He'd never wanted to fuck you full of his cum more than in that moment.

He tries to bite back his sounds of pleasure as he takes another deep inhale of you, his hand stroking his cock faster now as he chases his release.

God, he wishes you were here instead of him having to resort to your panties. He'd die a happy man if you sat on his face and let him lick at you until you fell apart on top of him. He just knew you'd make the prettiest, little noises for him as you came.

Beomgyu bites down on your panties as he cums harder than he has in a while. His cum covering his hand and stomach as he rides out his release. Laboured breathing echoing throughout his bedroom.

When he finally remembers himself, he begins to methodically clean up. Unsure of what to do with your panties, he shoves them in one of his drawers to deal with later.

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Getting off on your panties was definitely one of his more stupid ideas because now he was hooked. Having taken four other pairs every time your scent vanishes from them.

"Hey Gyu, sorry if this is a little TMI, but have you seen some of my panties anywhere? I can't seem to find them, and I've checked the washing machine a million times to make sure I didn't just lose them in there," you ask him one day, looking genuinely perplexed.

Beomgyu's heart is in his throat.

"No, sorry. Can't say I've seen them around," he says with what he hopes is nonchalance. Sweat building on his palms as he avoids looking at the drawer that is stuffed with your missing underwear.

"That's so weird. Thanks anyways," you say, shooting him a soft smile that only worsens his guilt as you leave his room.

When he's sure you're gone, he exhales a long sigh of relief and runs his hands through his hair. He can't keep doing this.

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"Hey y/n, sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you've seen the-"

Beomgyu's words die on his lips when he realises what you were doing. You were touching yourself.

"Beomgyu! Why didn't you knock?" You practically yell, shoving your blanket over your lower half to preserve some semblance of your modesty. He can still hear the faint sounds of your vibrator under the weight of your blanket. You failed to turn it off in your rush to cover up.

"I uh did. You just didn't hear me," he responds absentmindedly, trying and failing to stop staring at you.

"Well, you can leave now. This is already so embarrassing-"

"I can help you. If you want," he interrupts. At this point, he's convinced that walking in on you twice is some sort of sign. That or he's officially at his wit's end, and he can't bring himself to care. Fuck it.

You looked surprised for a moment, your lips parting. He wants to kiss you until said lips are swollen and bruised.

"Help me?" You ask, sounding as though you're not quite sure you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I want to help you cum," he responds and finds perverse pleasure in how scandalised you look by his offer.

"I- why?"

"I like making pretty girls cum,"

He doesn't fail to notice how you squirm at that. Biting your bottom lip as you seem to seriously consider his offer. Beomgyu's honestly just happy you haven't slapped him across the face for his audacity.

"Okay," you say so quietly that he's not ever sure he hears you at first, but, as you remove the blanket from your body, he quickly understands what's happening.

Holy shit. This was actually happening.

And fuck, do you look good enough to eat. All you have on is one of those skimpy sleeping gowns that make him want to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you. He can see your wetness coating your upper thighs and can already feel himself getting hard.

Hopefully this isn't just an incredibly vivid dream, he thinks as he makes his way over to you.

"Is it okay if I eat you out?" He asks, eyes alternating between your face and the space between your thighs. He can't quite see your pussy but, he's seen enough to want to bury himself between your thighs as long as you'll let him.

His cock twitches at the shy expression that dawns on your face, you avoid his eyes as you give him a quick nod.

He crawls onto your bed, leaning over you as his hand grips your jaw to make you face him, "I'll only say this once, so listen carefully. Whenever I ask you a question, I expect a verbal answer. Is that understood, Princess?"

"Yes," you breathe out, eyes lidded as you try your best to maintain eye contact with him.

"Good," is all he says before he presses his lips to yours, his hand reaching down to grab and knead one of your plush thighs like he's fantasised doing for ages.

He groans as you melt into him, your hands coming up to grab at the front of his shirt. All your little moans and sighs going straight to his cock.

Beomgy is the first to pull back, and he can't help the self-satisfied grin on his face as you chase after his lips. He presses one more soft kiss against your jaw before he shifts downwards to make himself at home between your legs.

He's sorely unprepared for the sight of you soaked and swollen with arousal. His imagination did you no justice. Even worse, your smell. He thought your panties made his mind go hazy, but this? Smelling you directly? Beomgyu can already feel pre-cum smearing the inside of his boxers. He was beyond hard already, and you hadn't even done anything.

"Tell me if you like or don't like something, okay?" He says, looking at you to meet your eyes.

"Okay," you respond, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip once more. If you weren't careful, you might just tempt him to do the biting for you.

Beomgyu presses an experiment kiss to your swollen clit, making sure he has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you in place. He's rewarded with a sharp inhale from above and your hips bucking into his mouth. Well, it seems like you enjoyed that. Fuck, you tasted even better than you smelled.

"You taste amazing," he groans against you, rutting his hips against your bed in search of some kind of relief.

"Th-thank you," you stammer out, your thighs already quivering around him.

He continues to press teasing kisses against your clit, sometimes giving it kitten licks in-between pecks. He knows this isn't enough for you, but he wants to rile you up. He wants to see how desperate he can make you.

His plan seems to work when one of your hands weaves its way into his hair and softly tugs, "Beomie please, don't tease."

The sound of one of your nicknames for him rolling off your tongue so wantonly makes him release another moan against your pussy, his hold on your thighs tightening as he properly laps at your clit. You weren't the only one getting worked up by his teasing.

All your moans and mewls act as fuel for him to continue to lick and suck despite the aching in his jaw, he was determined to make you fall apart and cum on his face. If the increase in pitch of your cries and tightening of your hold in his hair are anything to go by, he's sure he's doing a pretty solid job.

"Gyu I- Ah," you cry out, arching into his touch. Beomgyu is certain he's never had a more erotic experience in his life. He moves one of his hands from its hold on your thigh to tease your entrance with his fingers.

"Your f-fingers, please," you whine out, pressing yourself further into him. Your hold on his hair stinging now as you become more desperate to cum.

He's never cum untouched but, he thinks he could just from this.

He slowly pushes two of his fingers into you, a particularly long moan is drawn from his lips when he feels just how harshly your walls grip his fingers. They practically melt his fingers with how warm and wet you are. At this point, he's full-on grinding against your bed, diligently focusing on you clit while he gives you time to adjust to the stretch of his fingers.

"Move, please," you gasp out, your body shuddering as he gradually moves them. He knows he's struck gold when you thrash against him as he curls his fingers against a sensitive spot inside of you, and he's more than happy to exploit it.

"Beo-Beomgyu, I'm gonna c-cum. Cumming," is all the warning he gets before he feels you completely tense up. Your walls not giving his fingers much room to move as more of your juices gush onto his hand and onto the lower portion of his face. The sounds of pleasure that flow freely from your lips are downright pornographic.

He was right. You did make the prettiest sounds.

He gives your pussy one last kiss before very slowly easing his fingers from you. He doesn't think you've ever looked more attractive. Your hair is a complete mess, and your lips are still parted as you attempt to catch your breath. You look beyond fucked out and, Beomgyu can't help the stroke to his ego that gives him.

"You okay?" He asks gently, shifting to sit up between your thighs.

"Yeah, just trying to catch my breath. I didn't know you were so good at that," you respond, glassy eyes meeting his.

He can't help the smug smirk that spreads across his face, "You could say I have a talent, yeah."

His smirk only widens when you roll your eyes, but don't deny anything he's said. Both of you being acutely aware that that would be a flat-out lie.

Beomgyu shifts to get up and leave, assuming he's finished here, but pauses when he feels one of your hands hurriedly grab his before he can get up from your bed, "Where are you going?"

He can't help but stare at you with wide eyes, "Oh, I thought I was finished here, so I was going to leave."

"But, you're hard. Don't you want to cum?"

What even is his life right now?

"Uh sure but, I didn't know if you'd be up for anything more than me eating you out, and I didn't want to push my luck so -"

He's silenced by you pulling him towards you and pressing an eager kiss to his lips. Beomgyu kisses you back just as heatedly instinctively, leaning into you as your kiss turns sloppy from how worked up both of you seem to be.

Between how desperately you kiss him and how painfully hard he still is, Beomgyu feels himself quickly becoming lightheaded. He accidentally bites your lip when he feels your hand move from holding his to tentatively stroking his cock through his sweats, groaning loudly against your mouth.

"I want to feel you inside me,"

Beomgyu is pretty sure he just blacks out after hearing you whine that.

Pushing you flat on your back once more as he impatiently tugs off his shirt, not paying any attention to how you take in his exposed torso. His sweats and boxers quickly follow suit, letting all of his clothes fall unceremoniously onto your bedroom floor.

"Oh," he hears you quietly breathe out and finally looks at you. You're staring directly at his glistening cock as it twitches in the space between the two of you. He watches your eyes get considerably more glazed over, and you bite your lip once more while your thighs rub against one another.

Beomgyu really fucking hopes this isn't a dream.

"I just want to make sure you're totally okay with this," he says, breaking you out of your trance as he shifts towards you and grabs himself in his hand and lines his cock up with your entrance.

"Yes, Beomie, it's okay," you respond breathlessly, meeting his gaze.

Slowly, he starts to ease into you, and immediately Beomgyu knows he's not going to last long. He's been so hard for so long and not only did he get the opportunity to eat you out and experience you cumming on his face but, he's also getting the chance to fuck you raw. This was all too much. You were too much.

This was probably very dumb and incredibly irresponsible, but he can't bring himself to care.

It's difficult to tell who moans louder when he's eventually fully sheathed inside of you. He can't help but grit his teeth at how harshly your velvety walls grip him. Pressing his face into your neck as he gives you time to adjust to the stretch and himself time to gain some semblance of composure.

He isn't going to cum in a few minutes like some fumbling teenager.

A pained groan leaves his mouth when he feels you begin to squirm underneath him, the minor movement sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb incessantly inside you.

"You c-can move now," you whisper against his ear, and your breath against the sensitive skin there causes him to shudder briefly before he gradually pulls out of you and thrusts back in. His hold on your thighs becomes bruising now, and the moan you let out isn't exactly helping him.

Beomgyu distracts himself by kissing your neck, paying special attention to the areas that make you arch against him, and keen. Keeping his thrusts relatively slow.

"Beomgyu, faster," you whine, and he closes his eyes briefly to steel his resolve.

How could he ever say no to you?

He begins to pick up speed and, can't help himself from fucking into you harsher than he intended to.

Based on the way you moan and start to claw at his back though, he assumes you don't mind.

He kisses downwards, one of his hands impatiently tugging your nightgown down to allow him access to your tits. Tits that he's fantasised about for ages, and he actually gets to see and touch and taste now.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin ring out obscenely throughout your bedroom as he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and eagerly gropes your unoccupied breast. God, everything about you just tastes so addictive.

Beomgyu was getting closer than he cared to admit but, he had to feel you cum around his cock first. He needed it.

He's pulled from sucking and licking at your sensitive nub when you cup his face and press another disorienting kiss to his lips. It's all spit and tongue and teeth, and the coil in his gut only worsens when he realises you're just as into all of this as he is.

Fuck.

Then he remembers.

Your vibrator. He could use that.

His hand blindly reaches out towards your blanket to try and find it, trying to listen for the sounds of the vibrations.

"What're you doing?" You ask breathlessly against his lips.

There it is. He answers your question by bringing the toy up to your face, amusement briefly distracting him from his impending release when you become shy and flustered.

"Why do you-"

"I want you to use it on yourself," he interrupts you.

"Beomgyu! That's - " you flounder, unable to come up with a genuinely reason to refuse his request.

"Why?" You ask shyly, taking the toy in one of your hands.

"Because I think it would be hot," well, he's technically not lying.

"You're such a perv," you mutter, and he's thankful you don't realise just how right you are.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, "A perv who you're letting fuck you."

He groans when he feels you clench around him at his words. Oh, it seems like his sweet, cute roommate really likes it when he talks dirty. Well, he shouldn't disappoint you.

"Well, what're you waiting for?" He asks, picking back up where he left off, hands gripping your hips to make you take every single one of his thrusts.

He immediately tells when you touch the toy to your clit based on the way you arch into him and your pussy grips his cock so harshly he's almost convinced he can't pull out of you.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself, baby?" He half-asks, half-groans against you, your slick walls making him pretty sure he's seeing stars.

"Ah no, that's embarrassing," you whine, your unoccupied hand grabbing his bicep and your nails biting into his skin. Beomgyu wouldn't be surprised if he found scratches from you all over his body.

"If you don't tell me, I'll stop," he hollowly threatens, kissing the skin below your ear as he slows down his thrusts to prove his point.

"No! Fine, I think about you, okay? I think about you," you whine out, drawing quick circles on your clit with the tip of toy, your thighs starting to quiver around him once more.

He moans both from your confession and the way your pussy seems determined to squeeze all of his cum out of him, "What do you think about specifically?"

"You f-fucking me like this, sucking your co-cock," you babble out, your sounds of pleasure increasing in a familiar pitch. Thank fuck you seem close because Beomgyu isn't sure he can last much longer.

"Fuck baby," he groans, your words washing over him as he fucks you faster and harder, his orgasm so close he can practically taste it. He moves towards your lips to pull you into another sloppy kiss.

He bites down on your lip when he cums, his hold on your hips likely leaving bruises in his wake as he holds you to him to take all of his cum. Moaning and whining against your mouth as his body is overridden with shudders. Your walls still clenching around him as his cums, the oversensitivity only making his toes curl harder.

It doesn't take much more for you to follow suit, dropping the vibrator on your sheets when the stimulation becomes all too much. Holding him close to you while your orgasm renders you mostly immobile and fresh wetness gushes onto his cock and balls and onto your sheets.

Beomgyu leans rests his forehead against your shoulder while he catches his breath, feeling a little sleepy as he cuddles against you and your hands alternate between rubbing his back and playing with his hair.

He knows he should probably pull out of you and get off of you, and that you two should probably talk about all of this but, you're just so soft and comfortable that he can't help himself from drifting off a little bit.

#choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu smut #txt smut

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