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#flash will NEVER believe us

idk-bruh-20 · 1 year

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Irondad fic ideas #129

In an AU where everything is the same except Tony survived the snap in Endgame, MJ and Ned are both very aware that something is up with their memories. Huge, overlapping chunks of their lives are gone. And Spider-Man has something to do with it.

The only public figure Spider-Man has ever been closely associated with is Tony Stark. In need of answers, and not the types to just let something like this go, the kids hack and heist their way somehow onto Tony Stark's secret lake house property. It's weird that no alarms go off when they get close, but they manage it. They're about to knock, when Tony Stark, savior of the universe, opens the door.

He does not look great. Aside from the general post-battle healing and the fact that they have literally caught him at home, there's just something...off. It doesn't take long for them to realize that it's the same thing that's off with them, too.

Something important has been taken from all of their lives. Someone.

After Tony calms down from his initial freak-out, MJ and Ned (though mostly MJ) manage to convince him pretty quickly. The fact that FRIDAY never alarmed because they're in her system already is a huge point to their side.

And, the fact that he agrees with them. He survived the battle, everything should be fine. But something is so, very wrong. He's grieving someone he doesn't even know.

So, a new team is born. A trio united to find their shared missing person, the eraser mark in their memories none of them can bear to lose, all for different reasons.

They don't have much to go on, but Tony agrees with them on one thing: Spider-Man is involved somehow. And that's a good place to start.

#irondad fic ideas #banging pots and pans: hurt/COMFORT fic hurt/COMFORT fic dON'T FORGET THE COMFORT #peter needs hugs in so many different categories #best friend hugs gf hugs and dad hugs are literally the bare minimum required for my soul #irondad and spiderson #nwh fix-it #peter parker #tony stark #michelle jones #ned leeds #spideychelle #ironfam #just imagine that ned and mj rock up to the stark cabin during their winter break #like they tell their families they're going camping or smth and end up spending an entire two weeks of frantic holidays w The Stark Family #even better when they all get their memories back and that family is finally COMPLETE #and then when it's time to go back to the city #ned is just like:#flash will NEVER believe us #irondad fic idea #spider-man no way home #additional clues that mj happens to notice in Tony Stark's house:#a teenage boy's BEDROOM. a desk in stark's private lab labeled The Kid's.#btw tony & mj are two sides of the same fake stone cold bitch #if either of them were going to crack open the emotions in front of strangers those strangers would be each other #just something to think about #tony: you loved him. the person we're looking for is your boyfriend #mj: the person we're looking for is your son #queueueueue

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s0fter-sin · 20 days

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it’s the sound that tips him off.

it’s late, half-past hell by his last count, and mactavish knows there shouldn’t be a single soul in the showers this time of night. though he’s sure if he asked, he’d be told a soul isn’t in there.

just a ghost.

he almost chokes on the thick steam filling the locker room; humid and hazy and the perfect cover. or it would be, if the man collapsed in the far stall cared about hiding.

mactavish hates himself a little for the low sigh that falls from his lips. he wishes he wasn't so disappointed; that the promises he's heard over and over and watched be broken as many times hadn't wedged their way into his heart and convinced him that maybe, maybe this could be the time it sticks.

he doesn't know what's worse; the disappointment or the lack of surprise.

he holds his breath through the steam and leans over the limp body; stinging hot water hitting his back, instantly soaking through his clothes and already starting to burn. he flicks the tap enough to take the bulk of the heat out and straightens; a groan startling out of the man beneath him at the sudden lash of tepid water.

mactavish crouches, knees clicking and hooks a hand under his bicep to pull him up straight against the wall. if there was any vomit on his skin, it's been washed away by the pelting stream and he supposes he can count himself lucky for that. he tilts his limp head back and slips his fingers into his mouth; holding down his tongue and ignores the way it lazily jolts under his fingers to check his airway.

clear.

another small victory.

mactavish pulls his fingers out and cups his chin, keeping him tilted up and moves in the way of the water again so he can pull at his eyelid.

the eye he's met with is cloudy, so dilated there's hardly a ring of blue left.

he sighs again; hand falling away and letting his eye fall shut. "god damnit, riley."

riley moans, all his weight resting on the hand holding his jaw.

"aye, 'm talking ‘bout you," he grunts tiredly.

he lets riley's head fall forward to grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall to sit behind him; propping his body up against his chest. he leans his head back over his shoulder, keeping his face out of the water and his airway open just in case he hasn't actually finished throwing up.

he takes the rag riley'd half-managed to soap up and mechanically runs it over him; cataloguing new bruises and cuts and checking if the old ones are healing. sickly yellow fingerprints ring his hips, red splotches paint his ribs; too new to have settled into the deep purple he knows they’ll become.

riley slowly makes more noise as he rubs life into his body; still lying limp against his front but his head's starting to roll restlessly on his shoulder. he swipes between his legs and carefully doesn't think a single thing about what he finds.

"sean?" he rasps and mactavish's hand stills; eyes falling shut. he bites his check, hand clenching around the rag tight enough to shake and breathes hard out his nose.

he doesn't say a word, just forces himself to go back to cleaning.

he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he did.

riley isn't conscious enough to hear him anyway.

he runs his fingers over his inner elbows for tracks and manages to muster some relief when he doesn't find any. seems to be a pill and booze night; far from the worst condition he's found him in.

he rinses him off, running a curtesy hand over his shaved head only for it to fall back to his jaw; his thumb stroking over the thick scar carved into his cheek.

"you gotta stop doin' this," he whispers.

he isn’t sure if he’s talking to riley or himself.

mactavish gathers up riley's too-light body into his arms and turns off the shower. his head lolls into his throat and he throws a towel over his dripping body and another over his shoulder. it doesn't stop him from tracking water all the way to his quarters but he'd like to see someone try to put in a complaint about it.

he lays out the other towel on the bed and sets riley down; moving his body into the recovery position in an all-too familiar routine. he dries him enough that he won't soak the covers as he pulls them up to his chest and kicks the waste bin within grabbing distance of the bed.

he goes to pull off his sodden clothes when a different noise makes him freeze.

a low sniffle.

mactavish slowly turns back to the bed to find riley's eyes squinting open; glazed with tears as he kneads at the covers.

he stares at him for a moment as he looks around the room and those hazy eyes lock on him for the first time. "cap'n?"

he swallows. "aye; s'just me, riley."

his hand pokes out from under the covers and for all the promises he's made himself - all the “never again”s and “this is the last time”s - at the end of the day, he's weak.

he sits on the side of the bed and takes riley's hand in his; already so cold after nearly boiling himself alive.

"y' mad a' me?" he sniffs.

mactavish runs his tongue over his lip and slowly shakes his head. "no, i'm not mad at you."

"prom'se?" he pushes.

he reaches out and caresses his temple with his thumb. his hand almost covers his head and it cuts like a knife to remember just how small riley is. "aye," he says, hushed. "i promise."

riley's eyes fall shut, voicelessly murmuring 'promise’ to himself over and over.

"I’ll ge’ bett'r," he slurs and between one breath and the next, he's out.

mactavish sighs, running his hand in a final pass over his head and stares at a face that looks so much younger in sleep; bruised and sallow skin hidden in the shadows. "i know you will."

he presses a slow kiss to his forehead, shutting his eyes against the grief that wells in his heart and gets up to pull a chair over to the bed; settling in for another long night's vigil of watching his broken lieutenant sleep, ready to tilt him over if he throws up, eyes locked on the slow rise and fall of his chest fearing tonight may finally be the time it stops.

#drug use #tw drugs #guess whos back on her 09 shit #its me bb!!!#anyway 09 ghost who’s just completely messy #if he’s not on an op then he’s at clubs drinking & taking anything he can get his hands on #mactavish knows what he gets up to and hates it #hates watching him destroy himself stumbling back to base with no memory of what - or who - he’s done #hates seeing him prod at bruises knowing he has no idea where they came from #mactavish is more pissed that whoever riley was with just left him like that and that riley is totally fine with it happening #more than once he's found him almost od'ing half passed out in his room or the showers #and every time riley will slur out apologies and promises mactavish knows better to believe #riley knows how much it hurts mactavish to see him like this but its just so painful to live in his head #he can’t help but try and get out of it the only way he knows how #this is pre relationship btw just to make it all hurt a little more #ghost never remembers how he ends up back in his own bed after a bender #the whole point of them is to forget #he’ll end up missing days at a time and never question what happened to him in the meantime #if he thinks hard enough sometimes he can pick up flashes of a familiar voice rasping in his ear and big hands moving his body #but it’s hard for him to believe they’re anymore than drug induced hallucinations of what he really wants #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #talk to me ghost #we’re a team. ghost team #09 soapghost #09 ghoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod

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evilminji · 3 months

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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dash baxter #dash on tv #Dash Phan AU

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ririblogsss · 1 month

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I have found inspiration to write :).

The flash for the fist time in forever stop moving. No twitching. NO moving his leg up and down. No running back and forward to the cafeteria for snacks. He was completely still with his jaw open looking past Batman who at the moment was giving the league members an overview of the missions that have been happening within the past month. Immediately everyone locked in, Flash not moving major red flag. Batman caught it first and proceeded to turn around in a split of a second and froze (caught of guard) this caused the other league members to slowly turn their heads and eyes away from starring at the Flash. And they couldn't believe their eyes.

Superman had his jaw dropped.

Flash was pointing and unable to form words the only sound escaping his mouth was vocals "aa" "ee" he was over all gobsmacked.

Not like the other leagues were fairing any better. It's just that their eyes could not make their brain correctly process what they were seeing. And what they were currently seeing was a teenager with white hair with a box of donuts and drinking something out of a coffee cup. Now this is the watchtower everyone has seen teenagers from various backgrounds to say the least enjoy their coffee and snacks. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that the teen wasn't one of theirs. Not that it really matters Batman.

What actually matters is that the kids outside. IN SPACE. How is he surviving. How isn't he dead? Is he an alien? Then why is the box of donuts from earth?

And the kid has the gull to smile sheepishly?????

---

Danny only wanted help. HE SWEARSS. And the Justice League wasn't helping after they had been spammed with calls for help against the Ghosts. Amity parkers think that the JL has banned them from making calls. So Danny decided if they won't come. He will go to them, but his parents did not raise a disrespectful child the Fentons maybe break tax laws and driving laws and overall all OSHA regulations. BUT THEY NEVER DISRESPECT (unless warranted) ANYBODY. And Danny wasn't about to misrepresent them. So he brought a box of donuts and his fathers homemade fudge in hopes to make some sort of slightly good impression.

So taking a breath in (as a force of habit) he knocked on the watchtowers window and didn't become intangible and go in until Wonder Woman nodded with her head yes.

Batman was side-eying WW, but Danny decided that Wonder Woman had more decision power in this instance.

So with the approval that he may come in Danny made himself (and everything else) intangible so he could enter. Once inside he realize that Jazz had been correct in telling him to at least know how he was going to approach the subject.

He placed the treats on the table and made a gesture that they could eat. He took a sip of his hot ecto and then he opened his mouth.

"Why are you guys hunting us down for sport? w-we are people too"

Danny said it in such a broken voice with teary eyes. He really should have practiced first.

The JL choked.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc

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yanderestarangel · 8 months

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☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆

TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.

This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).

Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.

"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .

Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.

♡ Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡

He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.

Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.

He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.

"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.

"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."

After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.

"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.

"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."

"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.

"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.

"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."

"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."

"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."

"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."

"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.

"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.

He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.

"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."

"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.

"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."

"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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Lie Detector (Teen Dad!OP81 AU)

(Part of the Teen Dad!Oscar AU) Summary: Oscar does a lie detector test and Lando learns some tough pills to swallow.

“So, our first media video for McLaren since the big news came out, right Oscar?” Lando said.

“Yep.” Oscar weakly responded. When McLaren asked him to do the lie detector test again, hoping to poke fun at the recent events, he was weary. He knew his team wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or his family, and it would probably be great from a PR perspective, but he was already tired of constantly answering questions.

“Or should I call you Daddy Osc now?”

“Please never call me that.”

“So, we are doing a lie detector to try and expose all secrets the two of us may be hiding, like an entire family for example.” Lando, of course, knew about Oscar’s kids before he was exposed, but he still loved the opportunity to poke fun at him for it, even if he totally understood why Oscar did what he did.

“This time, we are using a heavy duty lie detector, with actual wires and someone to tell whether we are for sure telling the truth, instead of a toy that shocks us at random.” Oscar continued, ignoring Lando’s comment.

The words ‘Oscar tells the truth’ flashed on the screen till a wired up Oscar appeared behind the desk.

“Okay Oscar, starting off easy. Is your name Oscar Jack Piastri?” Lando was giddy as he asked, really excited to get information out of his teammate.

“Yes.” was all he responded. Truth.

“Are you originally from Australia?”

“Yep.” Truth. This was easier than he had thought, but looking in Lando’s eyes, he could see the glint of mischievousness in them.

“Are you a daddy?”

“I am a father, yes. I don’t like the look in your eyes when you call me that.” Truth.

“Do you have any other kids you are hiding?”

“No more than the two.” Truth.

“Am I their favorite uncle?” Lando knew he had it in the bag. The Piastri twins loved him and how much he spoiled them. Their parents? Not so much. Oscar’s fiancee had time and time again argued with the amount of toys Lando would get them at random.

He did begin to sweat a little as Oscar took a little longer to answer the question. He didn’t know how to break the news to him.

“...Yes.” Lie.

“What! Oscar? You said I was their favorite!”

“Lando, Logan has been in their life since they were born. He established himself as the cool uncle. When I let him babysit, I always return home to them eating way too much ice cream. To be fair, I think he has trained them like Pavlov’s dogs to associate him with treats so now they get way too excited and jumpy when they see him.” Oscar explained.

“This is stupid anyway I don’t care.” Lando mumbled, caring very much that he wasn’t the favorite. “Moving on, I don’t have any more questions so I guess it is my turn.”

After the video had been filmed, Oscar and Lando walked back over to the meeting room that the Piastri twins and their mother had been given to hang out in while they filmed. On the walk over, Lando interrogated his teammate even more.

“I cannot believe that I am not the cool uncle! I have never not been the cool uncle. Mila thinks I am cool, how do your kids not?”

“Lando, they are three, it is nothing personal. They love the toys you get them and they are always asking for you when they come to the factory. Logan just has seniority over you and has been the cool uncle forever, it is hard to dethrone him after a year.” Oscar said this hoping that it would stop Lando from spoiling them tenfold.

If anything it just made him even more motivated to overthrow Logan.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri and 472,264 others

landonorris logansargeant I will become the cool uncle

oscarpiastri lando please. No more toys we don't have the room

logansargeant In your dreams old man.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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LOL i have kind of a cringey request cause this just happdned to me

Something where penelope is hyping y/n up and saying shes “serving cunt” but spencer gets very offended someone is calling his girlfriend an offensive word!! and he defends her but its cute

Penelope's voice is extra gushy today as she squeals, "Ooh, you're serving cunt in that, gorgeous!"

Your back is turned to Spencer as you show off your new outfit, so you don't catch the telltale wrinkle of his brow, or the indignation that flashes through his eyes. It's only when you hear his voice, endearingly clueless and aghast, that you realize he's a little confused.

"Don't say that," He admonishes Penelope, who looks slightly bewildered at him. Sure, she knows Reid isn't the fondest of foul language, but he merely abstains from using it himself, he doesn't typically make it anyone else's problem. Before she can put the pieces together herself, he does it for her, "That's- why would you say that? She looks great." He wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging you back against him from behind. His touch is gentle, reassuring, and completely misguided.

"No, Spence," You turn, your hand flying to his cheek to cup it like it's magnetized to your hand, "It's a good thing. Serving cunt means you look really good."

That does nothing to soothe the worried wrinkles between Spencer's brows; in fact, they might only be deepening.

"I'd never insult her!" Penelope insists, and you know Spencer doesn't have a hard time believing her, even if he is still perplexed.

"It's a good thing." You repeat, smiling encouragingly while soaking up the warmth from his cheek that rests against your palm, "Really, Spence, I promise. We need to update you on modern lingo."

"I don't like modern lingo," He releases his concern with a brief sigh, but the frown on his face is still as scrunched as ever as he lets go of his hold on you, "Last time I heard modern lingo, you told me I had a slutty waist."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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maya1525 · 9 months

Text

Toge Inumaki’s 👅 + More

18+ MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge Inumaki

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem! Receiving and giving oral, virgin sex, riding, cream pie (cursed speech used during the deed)

Word count✩࿐4K

BONUS✩࿐Aftercare and love ❤️

Summary✩࿐semi-innocent Toge and his girlfriend reader give each other oral for the first time and then they have sex for the first time.

A/N ✩ — This is the longer and spicier version of my first request.

Toge snuck his fingers down your panties to gently prod your slick privates, already wet with arousal. He’s only ever fingered you a few times, and each time he’d leave you a needy mess. You’ve never came before and aren’t sure how to. But you still enjoy the feeling of him touching you and you feel happy that he wants to make you feel good. Typically while he fingers you, you’ll give him a hand job, it’s kind of been tradition since you’ve started experiencing these intimate moments together. You brought your hands down his shirtless lean torso and to the button of his pants but he stopped you this time.

You flashed Inumaki a confused look, “Tsuna mayo.” He whispered with a reassuring smile.

“Huh?” You questioned, but he just leaned forward to give you a quick peck on the lips before he went down and situated himself between your thighs. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and now his face was down between your legs.

You felt a wave of shyness wash over yourself, “Toge, this position is embarrassing.” You said meekly, trying to wiggle your legs shut but he playfully head bumped your leg away with a sly smile. He sturdily gripped both of your thighs keeping you in place. “Shake-shake.” He cooed, as he kept his gorgeous eyes locked with yours, then lowered his head to your clothed pussy.

He licked your lips from outside your panties, the sensation alone was extremely mesmerizing. You felt a buzz of cursed energy wash over your folds making you shiver with anticipation. “Inumaki… this is… ahh.” Another wave of riveting delight came across you when he repeated the action with a bit more pressure. The new sensation you were experiencing immediately made you forget about your self-conscious thoughts.

Toge was so intrigued at how your body instantly shuddered with the simple swipe of his tongue. He was curious as to what else he could do to you with just his mouth alone. He carefully pushed your underwear to the side to expose your glistening folds. The sight before him instantaneously made his mouth water. Without any restraint, he dove right in and tasted your sweet juices.

“Mmh!” You whined loudly, as Inumaki’s hot tongue flickered inside of you. It was as if he suddenly realized that this is what a true delicacy tastes like, every other flavor in the world seemed bland to him. He gripped your thighs tightly and pulled you into his face. You worried that he wouldn’t be able to get any air, but you could tell by the way he ate you like a starved animal; the air was the last thing that was on his mind right now.

You felt his nose rub against your clit deliciously as his buzzing tongue pumped in and out of you quickly. You instinctively wiggled your hips closer to him, enjoying the friction.

Your needy little cunt was now a sloppy mess for Toge. He couldn’t believe how saturated you’d gotten, which made him feel incredibly proud that it was all because of his doing.

He stuffed his tongue deep inside you, as far as he could force it. Which made you immediately made you cry out in ecstasy. Toge felt your walls clench him immensely with delight. He then swiveled it around inside of you in such a way that it came in contact with your sensitive spongy spot, causing you to writhe in pleasure.

Inumaki could get drunk off the moans and whimpers that came from your beautiful lips. His attractive eyes looked up at you while devouring your pussy in the most alluring way.

You’d become wetter than ever on Toge’s cursed mouth as he continuously flicked your sensitive G-spot with his tongue. He brought his fingers up to your clit and began to run little circles on it. Both of those actions were incredibly overwhelming for your body, you began to moan and call his name uncontrollably.

Suddenly a strange and new feeling overcame your lower stomach, a feeling you couldn’t hold back. You felt an intense bright white as you released yourself into your boyfriend's greedy mouth for the first time. He eagerly drank up your squirting liquids as you instinctively tried to clench your legs shut. He made sure to not miss a single drop of your scrumptious juice.

He decided to lick you clean, he started by licking the outside of your soft slick folds. His tongue moved slowly and gently in every crevice, savoring your taste entirely. He spent a little extra time on your overstimulated clit, giving it a little suck while he was at it. Making another cute gasp escape your lips. Then he wiggled his tongue inside of you, scooping out as much of your sweet nectar as possible. His bedroom was filled with your adorable gasps of delight, along with the sound of his slurping mouth on your drenched wetness.

Inumaki was hooked on this new way to please you, the way you’d squirm and whimper under his mouth. He’d eat your pussy for hours if you let him. His zipping tongue continuously scooped into you, trying to get every last bit of flavor. The rhythmic sensation of his plunging cursed tongue felt explosive. “T-Toge… stop I’m going to-ahh.” You moaned out as you came once more onto his heated mouth. His purple eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he gulped you up eagerly.

While he licked you clean for a second time, he was able to feel your pussy pulsate with pleasure from the aftermath of coming twice. He gingerly pulled his face away from your glistening cunt. You noticed that the entire lower section of his face shone with your wetness. Especially on the cursed speech marks on his cheeks. A faint blush crept across your face when you noticed that.

He crawled up the bed with an adorably smug look on his face, along with a very noticeable tent in his pants. Toge brought his face up to yours and gave you a heart-melting kiss, you were able to taste yourself in his mouth which intrigued you. You pulled Toge close into your body for another heated kiss. Then shifted positions so he was now laying down. His vibrant purple colored iris’ looked up at you inquisitively.

You brought your mouth down to his neck to give a few delicious kisses, he rested his hands on your hips to hold you in place. A quiet groan left his lips as your mouth worked on his neck. You were able to feel his erection rubbing against your thigh in the most appetizing way. You kissed and sucked a trail of small love bites down his chest and lean torso. Purposely leaving a few angry red marks on his pretty porcelain skin.

You couldn’t stand to leave him in such a desperate state, so you undid the button on his uniform pants and tentatively pulled them down along with his boxers. His scrumptious-looking dick sprang free, hard, and ready for action. Your mouth instinctively watered for him. The urge of needing to know what he feels like under your tongue got the best of you and you licked him from the base to the tip. That simple action caused his dick to pulse with anticipation and another small gasp left his lips. You saw a few drops of precum escape from his tip, so you lapped up the salty liquid with a few short kitten licks.

Your molten mouth felt incredibly sensual to Inumaki, the way you licked him like a popsicle; coating him up in all of your drool. He then felt your small mouth envelope his sensitive tip. “Ahh...” He groaned quietly, looking down at you with a flushed look on his captivating features. This new sensation drove him up the wall and it took all his willpower to not finish in your mouth right then and there.

After sucking on his tip gently, you decided to swivel your tongue around him, tasting his precum leaking out every so often. You felt a wave of bravery wash over you and lowered your mouth onto him even further. You felt the head of his penis hit your uvula causing you to gag slightly. He wasn’t even in your mouth entirely, and you weren’t confident he’d fit. So you brought your right hand onto the remaining part of his exposed length to pump him gently. Your hand felt slick with the heavy amount of saliva you left on him. His gorgeous purple eyes rolled into the back of his head from this invigorating feeling.

You loved how hard and warm he was in your mouth. You felt him tangle his hands in your hair with pleasure; lightly tugging on your locks, causing shivers to run down your spine. Knowing how much he was enjoying himself in your wet cavern enticed you to take him further down your throat. You removed your right hand from off his shaft and beckoned him further down your throat with your tongue.

“Mmh… Y/k.” He whimpered out as his whole body shuddered. Your throat squeezed him so comfortably. As soon as he said your name, you froze; the feeling of his cursed energy being directed to you made your body await his orders. Toge immediately flushed with embarrassment realizing he just said your name out loud. “Takana.” I’m sorry. He gritted through his teeth. Out of all the times to slip up and say someone’s name; it was yours while you gave him head for the first time. After a few brief seconds of being still on his dick, your body came back to its senses and you began to suck him off again. This time he clenched his jaw tightly, focusing his breath and making sure he won’t say anything on accident. But it was excruciatingly difficult.

You bobbed your head up and down on him to get used to the movement and each time you challenged yourself to go a little deeper than before. Then you’d hold yourself on him and calm your breath through your nose. You started to get the hang of having him lodged down your throat in no time.

You noticed how his eyebrows were knitted together with focus and how he clenched his jaw while looking down at you. There was so much want in his eyes. You pulled your mouth off of his glistening rod.

“Tell me what you want me to do Toge.” You said almost angelically, as you lazily pumped his spit-covered dick.

Toge shook his head ‘No’, he didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a lewd manner. “It’s ok. I want you to use your cursed speech on me.” You said as you locked your pretty gaze with his, while lowering your mouth to his tip, teasing him with your tongue. He shook his head negatively a second time, but that didn’t deter you from taunting him. This time you brought your mouth down to his balls, and you slowly dragged your tongue across his sensitive skin. You swirled around each one in a figure-eight pattern. Causing Toge’s breath to get more ragged. You then gently suckled on his left ball, your teasing tongue lapping at his soft skin. Then you switched to the right, you brought your hand to his shaft to pump him while your hot mouth gave love to his sacks. His dick was now leaking precum profusely.

As you did those inappropriate actions, Inumaki felt his release begin to come to the surface. He lightly pumped his hips upward, enjoying the feeling completely. You noticed that and pulled away with a cute smirk on your face. “Tell me what to do.” Toge’s dick twitched at the thought of controlling you, but his mind told him that it would be immoral to do such a thing. Forcing you onto him sounded so pleasurable, but it felt so inappropriate at the same time. You then coaxed him down your throat, his hard dick blocking your airway. You calmed your breath and focused on breathing through your nose. Your eyes darted upward to see that Toge’s jaw went slack with pleasure, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and his violet-colored eyes looked down at you with approval. Your mouth watered on him uncontrollably, enjoying his smooth shaft taking up space in your throat entirely. You were able to feel his cock twitch with delight; the movement caused you to gag slightly. You moved your mouth onto him in a steady rhythm, your vision began to blur with tears. You looked so pretty to Toge; especially with your mouth full of his dick and your glossy eyes looking up at him. He snaked his fingers into your hair to gently coax your mouth further down on him. You then reluctantly pulled away from him with a sly smile, “Control me.”

Inumaki felt the heartbeat in his chest increase tremendously, and he caved for your request. “Take me down your throat.” His sexy voice makes you go weak.

His cursed speech rang through to you instantly; without having time to process your actions, your mouth was glued down to his lengthy dick. You sucked him further into your mouth so he was down your throat entirely. Your face was flush with his pelvis. “Ahh...” He groaned out in pleasure at how tight and wet you felt enveloping his shaft. Having him control you so easily, turned you on so much more. Your pussy began to dampen for him uncontrollably.

Inumaki couldn’t believe how amazing your throat felt on his raging rod. Your greedy little mouth sucked him off deliciously. He tangled his hands in your hair with a firm grip and began to pump your face gingerly on his dick. You brought your hand up to gently caress his balls as you let him throat fuck you. His sighs of pleasure were becoming more frequent and increased in volume. His smooth voice was music to your ears. Being the one responsible for him to pant you a choir of scrumptious sighs and groans made your pussy ache for him. The urge for him to claim you spread through you like a passionate fire.

Toge was lost in pleasure; the way your throat squeezed and squelched around him in the most rejuvenating way. Your mouth felt like a broken faucet by how you drooled on him. Then there was your viper-like tongue swirling and swiveling around him erratically. The amazing sensations overwhelmed him completely and he released himself down your throat with a guttural gasp.

You felt his dick pulsate with delight as he emptied himself inside of your eager mouth. You could taste his hot salty seed, it reminded you of the taste of tears. You sucked him gently as you felt his final spurts greet your awaiting tongue.

Inumaki looked down at you lovingly as you drank him like a straw. You always looked beautiful in his eyes; but right now in this moment, you left him speechless. He watched as you pulled your puffy red lips away from his glistening semi-hard dick. You sneakily removed your wet panties as a small shy smile formed on your pretty features. You crawled up his breathless body. You straddled him so you hovered above his spent rod. He leaned forward to give you a ravenously sloppy kiss. The kiss grew more heated and desperate, as you felt his warm hands clutch your waist.

“T-Toge…” you flushed with want, as you reached down between the both of you to grab ahold of his slick cock. “Can you put the tip in? I want to feel you.” Your pussy felt so empty and craved to be claimed by your boyfriend's dick for the first time.

Inumaki shuddered at your request and an adorable blush crept across his upper cheeks. He felt your nimble hand hold his penis upright while you lightly teased your dripping folds onto him. He couldn’t believe that his sweet and innocent girlfriend could get so incredibly horny like this. He felt proud that you wanted him so blatantly. Excitement rushed through his veins and to his dick, to feel you in such an intimate way.

The sensation of simply rubbing his cock’s head against your opening sent you over the edge, he felt so big and hot. He seemed to grow bigger as you teased yourself on him. You weren’t sure if he’d be able to fit into your tight virgin hole; but with how saturated you were, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Toge kissed you once more and then pulled away to study your pretty face, leaning back on his elbows. “Shake-shake.”

With his affirmation, you carefully settled yourself a bit lower onto him. Feeling the tip of his shaft squeeze into you. It slightly stung being stretched out like that; but you were so excited and turned on with this new experience-the pain didn’t feel as bad.

You felt so hot and tight around Toge’s tip, it was almost painful by how you clamped down on him. His violet eyes were glued to your face, studying your reaction to having him inside of you. Your gaze was shifted downward towards your sweet boyfriend, his platinum white hair was a disheveled mess. His lips were parted slightly, and his cheeks were lightly colored pink. His eyes were glued to yours, he was in a trance-like state from this new experience. All while his grip on your waist felt vise-like.

Inumaki began to sweat, but not from how hot he felt; but rather because of how he was trying to calm himself from not dropping you down onto himself. He wanted to know what it would feel like to be in you completely, but he also didn’t want to hurt you.

A wave of courage overcame you, in times like this you should just dive right in. You plopped yourself down onto him without warning. And a loud moan of pain and pleasure came from your lips. You felt so full and stretched out with him lodged inside of you. You had no idea how close you could be to him.

Toge bit his lower lip, trying to restrain himself from pounding up inside of you wildly. You felt so hot and juicy around his extended dick. He leaned forward to kiss your neck and shoulders with appreciation.

His molten fluttery mouth caused shivers to run down your spine. Your breath became ragged as you got used to having Inumaki’s cock deep inside of you. You instinctively ground your hips against his, which immediately caused a wave of desire to wash over you both.

Inumaki gave you a heated kiss on your lips as he pushed up inside of you deliciously, “Ride me.” He whispered against your lips, and as his cursed words took over. Your willpower was corrupted and you began to gyrate against his hips. The sudden movement felt both amazing and painful. You were able to feel every part of him, the way his dick arched into you perfectly and the way his veins rubbed the inside of your walls. All while this felt good, the stinging pain was still there.

The look on your sweet boyfriend's face was one you could never forget. His gorgeous features were contorted with pleasure and his purple eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly.

Toge was lost in the tight feeling of your pussy, there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be right now. Being wedged inside of you felt so heavenly. Your rhythm began to change to a more desperate and fast-paced one; the more you moved the better it felt. You felt so snug and warm around Toge’s cock; you should just keep him here forever.

Inumaki’s intrusive thoughts got the best of him and he roughly lifted your waist a few inches above himself. Then he bullied his dick in and out of you rabidly. His speed was so much faster and more efficient than yours. You let our sweet whimpers that enticed Inumaki to go faster. His cock slid in and out of you effortlessly, because of the mix of your slippery juices along with his leaking precum.

Inumaki wanted to see if he could go deeper; so he whirled you around on his slick cock so you weren’t facing him. And then he pushed you down into the mattress face down and ass up. He ruthlessly plowed into you, making you cry out in delight as your walls clenched around him.

Toge’s purple eyes lit up at the new position he discovered. The sight before him was one to behold; he loved the way your plump ass jiggled every time he smacked his hips against yours. Your back arched so sexily and he adored your lean muscles. He rested one hand on your hip and the other had a firm grip in your hair, lifting your head back roughly. The way your kindhearted boyfriend fucked you ruthlessly caused you to become a whining and dripping mess all over his lengthy dick.

Each time he plunged into you he came in contact with your sensitive G-spot, causing you to clench around him wonderfully. He could tell that you were close and continued to pound into you relentlessly. You felt your legs give way as your body succumbed to pure ecstasy. Inumaki felt you cum all over him like a waterfall as he chased after his own release. His balls tightened, then he rammed into you, with one final hard thrust. Emptying himself completely inside of you. You were able to feel his dicks pulse as he held still inside of you. After a few brief moments, he pulled out his spent member, suddenly making you feel empty and missing the closeness the both of you just had.

You felt his hot liquid leak between your legs as you got up from your position on the mattress. When you faced Inumaki he eyed you with a romantic look on his beautiful face. He pulled you into his lean chest and kissed you sweetly. Even though he just tirelessly banged you he wasn’t sweaty, just a little warm. Then again, you noticed that he doesn’t sweat that easily. Toge is extremely agile and has great stamina when it comes to his physique. You blushed slightly when he caught you staring at his lean abs.

He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead and guided you under his covers, holding you close. You snaked your arms around his waist to hug him back. Feeling utterly blessed that you both just lost your virginity to each other. “I guess this means that we’re meant for each other.” You said quietly, about to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

“Shake mentaiko.” He murmured back, giving you a little squeeze of appreciation. He pulled away to grab his phone off his nightstand, quickly typing up something. He brought his phone's screen over to you with a faint blush on his handsome features.

The screen was in his notes app and it said:

I’m happy to call you my girlfriend. And I know for a fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so much!

“I love you too Toge, shake-shake.” You smiled up at him with the most gorgeous heart-stopping smile he’d ever been privileged to see come from your face. You leaned up to his face to give him another loving kiss and then burrowed your face into the crook of his neck. That was your spot; whenever the two of you cuddled or took naps, you’d gravitate to the spot where his neck met his defined shoulder. Simply being close to him made you feel safe and secure, nothing else mattered. As sweet slumber began to take you in like warm honey; you vaguely remember the feeling of cursed speech taking hold of you when Inumaki whispered “I love you.”

✩࿐Like my style? Check out my other creations!✩࿐

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anantaru · 2 months

Text

synopsis. you're in a changing room trying on lingerie while rich boy aventurine admires you <3 dry humping n getting spoiled

cw. ⪩⪨ [ex]plicit, rich boy au, rich boy aventurine, reader wears lingerie, fingering & dry humping, fem! reader

somewhere amongst the fancy to love and favor you, rich boy aventurine has a habit of spoiling you without hindrance— at bottom, in the glow of his eyes, he views life as nonsense without a substance much deeper than that of materialistic possessions, all the more reason as to why you were the most valuable to the blonde.

rich boy aventurine walks you through the countless stores that were flashing the most luxurious brands— expensive bags and purses, or what about an avant-garde necklace for it to fit the other accessories? you hum, teeth sinking into your glossed lip as aventurine urges you to make him purchase it all.

your mind falls down into an emotion you could never get tired of, "this one? yeah?" aventurine says with a nasty grin, almost like he needed you to tell him again, this time a little harder, a little more sensual. his body language was becoming more excited, agitated in a way where he was struggling to hold himself back.

rich boy aventurine watches the shop workers help you get all glammed up for him, so eye-catching and entrancing until his mouth waters at the luring sight once you let him step closer, his observant gaze noting how the lingerie digs and moves in keeping with your skin.

"fuck..." his voice was much the same as gravel, saturated within a mirage of intense cadences dipped in swelling lust as he admires you, shortly after reaching one palm towards his groin to adjust himself a little.

the fancy material of your lingerie hugs up on your body as it was crafted for you, your skin glowing as you're beautifully showing off the exclusive garments that must've been used to create it, fitting you like it's only made for you to wear, for you to enjoy and aventurine to look at, the crystal-glazed necklace on your neck too, leaving nothing concealed.

rich boy aventurine cannot take his eyes off you, seeing you like this formed a thrilling mist of coveting desire inside of the small changing room, blanketing both of your bodies inside a warm conceal.

and how deeply he yearned to get a taste of you, endlessly worship your skin with his strong arms and frame your figure with them tight. aventurine believes you're so graceful when you let him spoil you in such striking manner.

like a dangerous drug, he would describe the excitement he felt whenever he was visiting multiple lavish stores to buy you exorbitant garments, barely holding himself back at the thought of ripping them off your skin later.

the dressing room was too tiny to fit two people, but the both of you made it work somehow— always, with cold glass you're being pressed at, the attention on your plushy ass growing stronger as you feel his agitated erection grind into you. he practically salivates at how he can see the reflection of you two in the mirror when he presses and fucks you through his clothes, two calloused hands holding you in place while you're sneakily brushing your fleshy ass back into his groin.

"baby, oh baby... can't wait to rip that off you…" aventurine lets out a pathetic, little whine followed by a deep rumble emitting from his throat— slowly adding a leisurely tempo to his pace as he humps his clothed sex into your ass before his tongue lewdly licks across the back of your neck.

rich boy aventurine won't stop until he's felt you up everywhere, entirely, he glissades one hand from your breasts to your stomach until settling on your clothed pussy, the small twine of fabric snuggled up between your wet folds was sitting perfectly, which gave him an optimal way to rub your cunt in erratic circles, his adams apple bobbing before he whispers your his name at his fingers gathering your slick.

your head slants back at the new, satisfying impact of two rough digits mounting over your squelching pussy— a marvel of bliss spiking your blood the moment he'd alternate between stimulating your warm cunt, lapping his tongue up and down your neck while humping his thick, clothed member into your plush ass.

it's so crowded in that small changing room, you fear aventurine might rip your new lingerie apart if he's continuing with this— how much you hope he does, it's always a pleasure when he fucks the literal clothes off you, not to mention how pretty he looks with his shirt sticking to his chest, exposing his defined abs.

most deliciously, you were certain that there must be a couple shop workers noticing the deafening noises coming from your area— what else was there to do for them other than listening to what filthy scenes were happening? while only wishing it was them instead.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #aventurine x you

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nichuuu · 2 months

Text

Scatterbrain

Word count: 18k+

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.

Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.

Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”

Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.

Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there.

“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.

“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”

And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.

“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”.

But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?

“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard.

Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more.

Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.

It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that.

No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school.

But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.

“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”

You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne.

“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”

She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin.

It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.

302.

Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well.

Then the door opens.

In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.

And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”

When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”.

So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin.

In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.

“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”

“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”

She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.

“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”

How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.

Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.

Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go?

The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants.

It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.

(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)

Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer.

Longer.

“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.

“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.

You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”

Longer.

“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.

“I thought you said—”

“Just fucking do it!”

Slack.

And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.

“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.

“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”

You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply?

A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”

And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”

No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her.

Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone.

“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?

She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.

And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters.

“Please! Put them in!”

And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.

God is she dripping.

“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat.

“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”

The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess.

The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”

And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.

Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.

Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.

And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”

The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls.

But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever.

“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you.

(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.

Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)

The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—

Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!

—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.

And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.

Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.

Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.

“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.

(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)

“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm.

“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead.

“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes.

“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”

The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier.

“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods.

Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.

“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”

To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.

(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)

She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.

“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving—slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole.

With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.”

(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all.

Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)

It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.

You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.

“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”

You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.

In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.

For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips.

Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.

And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.

“Cum with me! Fill me!”

And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole.

There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass.

It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other.

“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”

Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.

“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”

* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”

Okay. No dodging.

The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.

“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”

If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.

“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.

Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo.

“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.

You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.

The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good.

In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.

Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”

“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.

“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?”

Ah. There we go.

“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.

Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.

“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”

“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”

Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.

“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”

Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”

And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”

(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)

You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart.

As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.

The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy.

“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”

She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”

“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”

“It’s not that Wonyoung.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.

“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”

She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”

“Yea but—”

“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”

“Wonyo—”

“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”

If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”

Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion).

And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.

“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.

“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you.

Well… Then that settles about everything then.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.

“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”

She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.

Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible.

“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.

“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”

She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.

She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.

And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.

“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.”

You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.

“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.

She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr.

“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit.

“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”

Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started.

Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”

(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)

And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for.

“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”

The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.

Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.

And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created.

You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”

“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”

And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.

You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion.

(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)

She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly. She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something.

Fill me.

The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear.

When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless.

“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”

“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”

(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly.

At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)

“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”

With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears.

And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex.

Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only.

Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”

Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts.

And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane.

Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone.

“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear.

Fuck.

You thrust deep inside her.

Me.

Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.

Harder.

And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would.

You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud, but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.

It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it.

“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt. She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced.

She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”

Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.

And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.

“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”

You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is.

“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”

Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily.

It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.

(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”. She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)

You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."

She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock.

And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft.

And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.

You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length.

It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.

“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.

Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).

You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.

And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”

“What?”

And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is.

“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”

Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”

She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it.

“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”

She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.

She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door.

“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects.

When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance.

You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road.

Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.

When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.

Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.

“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.

“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”

She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.

She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir.

She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest.

“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”

You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands.

“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”

She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.

When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest.

“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.” she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”

And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”

She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.

Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind.

You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours.

She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung.

Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand).

Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts.

The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.

“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture.

“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”

The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”

“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”

She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember.

The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.

She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…

And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…

No.

You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her.

She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame.

“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control.

Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.

How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?

____________________

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.

This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.

~Lots of love Nichuuu

#jang wonyoung #wonyoung smut #ive smut #ive wonyoung #kpop #fanfic #writing #smut #nichuuu #ansgt

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tired-teacher-blog · 3 months

Text

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose mind couldn't be less concerned about the subject despite him nearing his thirties.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who usually brushes off his friends' teasing words about him being "clueless around girls" and "surely to die alone" since his one and only goal in life is to be a hero worthy of carrying his brother's title, and nothing more.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who has the habit of scolding you each time you playfully ask him out on a date since he's just so used to everyone's mocking and believes it's what you're doing as well.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is tragically unaware of your true feelings for him, and for someone who appears to be quite sharp and brainy, he constantly misses the longing gaze in your eyes.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who finally agrees to join you for dinner one evening just to shut you up and put an end to your pestering, only to wind up having a wonderful time with you, away from the usual stress of work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who starts freaking out the moment he realizes that your soft voice and beautiful face are now hunting him, plaguing his every waking hour and rendering his mind a tangled mess, and the more he tries to deny it, the clearer it becomes that you are no longer just a dear friend to him, but potentially something a lot more than that.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose peculiar tics seem to worsen around you, prompting your confusion as you watch him lose his composure before disappearing without a trace.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who secretly wishes you would ask him out again since he cannot bring himself to do it no matter how much he tries.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost yells his agreement when his wish finally comes true as you casually suggest having a drink together after work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush refuses to leave his face while he strives to keep his cool around you, beating himself up for seeming like a loser, but is unaware of how adorable he appears to you.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose priorities start to shift and broaden a bit -to potentially include you- the moment your hand accidentally brushes against his own when walking you back home after your fourth date.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who can never explain the persistent heat waves washing over his body everytime you flash him a smile or call out his name, and in his confused virgin brain, it can only mean him suffering from an illness which seems to aggravate with your presence. Yeah, that must be it.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost breaks into laughter when he realizes the real reason behind his inexplicable state the moment you share your first kiss. It was never a virus or a mysterious syndrome that hit him, it was simply you all along.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose arms shakily sneak around your waist and bring you against his toned chest to prolong this magical moment while your lips are moving perfectly together.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's unaware of the prominent smile plastered across his face for days now, his eagerness is growing by the second and the feeling of your soft breath fanning over his face as you leaned back from the kiss, is still vivid in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose body stiffens -but only for a second- the moment you invite him into your apartment with a suggestive glint in your eye. He's not stupid, and understands your intentions perfectly as they mirror his own, but his restlessness and excitement are messing with his brain and preventing him from voicing his approval, so much so that he ends up stiffly stepping inside without a word.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's barely able to form a coherent thought all throughout the movie you suggested watching together, and whose only interest seems to be in the way your fingers are absentmindedly playing with his own.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's just about reached his limit when you clumsily move to straddle his waist and claim his lips in a tender kiss as the end credits roll up the screen.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who curses under his breath when feeling his cock hardening against your restless hips, he wants more but is unsure of how to proceed, or if it is even possible for him to withstand your teasing without bursting in his pants.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who suddenly stands up while holding you in his arms, searching your eyes for a permission to carry you to bed, and stumbling his way there when you shyly nod an approval.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who lays you down gently and kneels before you, a deep flush reaching the tips of his ears as he racks his brain for what to do next.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush undeniably grows when you start giggling at his clumsy state and softly ask him to follow your lead as you guide his moves.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's a quick learner, promptly takes control and relishes the way your directing words jumble up with broken moans as you finally give in to him.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is a gentleman, does his utmost to pleasure you, as best as his virgin body allows, and boy does he do that!

Virgin Pro hero Iida who whimpers loudly while feeling your warm walls squeezing him blissfully for the very first time, praying to God not to cum right then and there as the sensation is driving him insane.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose tears are threatening to spill as he buries his face in the crook of your neck before giving in to them.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who cannot get enough of your warmth surrounding him, strokes, kisses and embraces you all night long while moving slowly and deeply into your heat and taking the time to explore your lustful body.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who breathlessly watches your enticing body splayed underneath himself with the hope of itching this heavenly image of you deep in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is proud and elated to have you as his first, it was never about losing his virginity but rather, about experiencing it with the right person, and that is precisely who you are.

Divider by : @/cafekitsune

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nelkcats · 11 months

Text

Dead Language Expert

Danny never thought that he could "major" in languages, and get a job as a translator. But apparently knowing all the dead languages by default and being able to time travel with the help of your ghost tutor was pretty useful outside of Amity.

It happened purely by chance, he was walking through a museum and started laughing because of a mistake in one of the sentences that completely changed the meaning of the text. The museum manager, of course, did not believe him, since many people had said that the piece was "impossible to translate". But he study it anyway.

Days later they were looking for him to translate all the things from that time. And he just carried on with it, in many more civilizations. In some cases he even asked for a few trips to the past to Clockwork to verify.

It got to a point where the wizards, heroes and villains over the world knew him as "the translator of dead languages" and some of them even tried to kidnap him to perform a summoning ritual. Danny rolled his eyes and easily freed himself, but the League assigned him an "escort" anyway.

Exasperated, the halfa escaped from his escorts and continued his work as normal. Superman almost fell out of his chair at the Watchtower meeting when he was informed that the boy had translated the language of Krypton and other missing planets. Besides having managed to lose both the Flash and Green Latern, what the fuck?

#dpxdc #Danny know all dead languages by default #is part of being a ghost #or part of being him #he's not sure #The museum manager asked him to translate and he accepted #he didn't expect the payment but it was good #so he ended working in translating #it was easy and he could time travel if he had any doubt #dp x dc #dc x dp #Justice League is worried about his knowledge #but he didn't do anything wrong #Danny is considering teaching at a university for fun #People think Danny is human and he didn't correct them #He also asked Clockwork for help so no one would notice his status as a halfa #Danny doesn't like being kidnapped but at this point in his life it's nothing more than a nuisance #while he could fight the summoning he really doesn't want to

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im-am-not-a-weenie · 4 months

Text

🍓playing with their hair for the first time

Writing bg3 hc Now! Will also still be doing rdr2 a/n at the bottom for more info! spelling errors

Gn Reader

Gale, astarion,halsin,

Establish relationships

🍓Gale

You see Gale sitting all alone enjoying a good book. He always looked cute when he was enjoying what he was reading, he looked so concentrated and expressive

You couldn’t help but walk over to the wizard. “Mind if I join you?”. He smiled and patted the ground beside him “Of course, what’s better than a good book? Good company to share it with”

You sat down and made yourself comfortable ” What are you reading” You looked curiously over at the book in the wizard's hands. “Ah, It’s nothing really, just another tail of dragons and knights. I could read it aloud if you wish?”

He looked a bit nervous “On second thought you’ve probably grown tired of hearing my voice”. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze “Never”

You laid back, Gale didn’t look very comfortable, being hunched over “Here,” you said sweetly and pulled him down so his head was on your lap “Better?” He looked a little stiff but quickly regained his composure “Yes, yes it’s quite nice”

As He started to read Your hand absentmindedly went to his hair, and your fingers started to card through his brown locks, you felt him tense but then relax back into it

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back listening to him read, but after a long you heard him trail off, opening one of your eyes to peek at him you could see he was starting to doze

With a smile, you gently took the book out of his hands “Huh?” He opened his eyes to look at you. ”you were falling asleep” your hand still in his hair

“Could You…could you maybe keep doing that?” Gale mutters sheepishly. You just laughed softly and smiled

That night Gale fell asleep with a smile on his face and your hands in his hair

🍓astarion

The party decided it would be best to stay at a tavern that night, treating themselves and of course, astarion headed straight towards where the bath was located

It had been an hour and still no sign of him, getting a tad bit worried you decided to go check on him, you knocked on the door softly “Star? Are you alright in there?” You were met with a muffled “Yes darling quite alright”

After a few minutes you hesitantly “Can…can I come in?" he automatically responded with a "Yes darling"

as you opened the door thick clouds of steam poured out. "hurry my love, we wouldn't want it to get cold in here now would we?" astarion was sitting in a bath you could only assume was boiling hot water "Star, how hot is that bath? your skin is red" he waved off your concern

"now what did you need?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was hoping to join you honestly" his expression dropped as he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it

"You can say no" your voice filled with nothing but love and encouragement. he hesitates for a moment before finally saying "It's just I don't believe the tub would be big enough for us both that's all" he flashed you a charming smile. you knew there was a deeper reason but didn't push

"i was actually thinking of just sitting in here with you. Would that be ok?' he looked taken aback "You just wish to sit here with me that's all?" you gave a nod "Well I mean who wouldn't want to sit here and marvel at my beauty, go ahead"

as he reached for the soap you beat him to it "Here let me." pouring a generous amount of soap into your hands, making your way behind him, first lathering the soap in your hands before sinking them into his hair

"What are you doing?" his body tensed up slightly. "washing your hair what does it look like" teased him with a sweet voice as your fingers gently massaged his head. "I get that darling but why?" his voice sounded unsure, not used to non-sexual intimacy.

"Because I love you, and you deserve to get pampered" his breath caught in his throat and quickly cleared it "Of course I do, I'm glad we're on the same page." you gave him a small laugh as you kept washing his hair, he closed his eyes and lent back into your hands. you swear you could hear him purring

you both sat in comfortable silence until he softly said "I love you too" You could hear the faint smile on his lips without having to see it

🍓Halsin

this morning was a rare morning, not only did you wake up early voluntarily, but you woke before Halsin which never happened. (to be fair he just got back from a long and exhausting journey but still!)

waking up feeling warm. not sure if it was because of how the sun was hitting your face or because of the giant man holding you close to him

your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the sight of a sleeping Halsin. he looked peaceful. the sun made him look radiant, glowing almost, as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. something else caught your eye. he had his hair down

yes his hair was always down but it was always pulled back, but this morning it sprawled messily over his pillow, and a couple stray strands laid on his face. you couldn't help but reach out and brush it away

his eyebrows frowned before he quietly spoke "Your hands are cold" You quickly retracted your hand. "sorry" you whispered back, Halsins eyes opened slolwy. blinking away the sleep, he smiled and grabbed your hand and placed it back on his cheek, and kissed the palm of your hand. "it's ok my heart"

you could feel your face heat up all you could do was smile dumbly "It's down" was all you said and tucked a few more pieces behind his ear. "does it bother you my heart?' you shook your head, all too eager to see the druid with his hair down. "no, I like it"

running your hand through his usually well-kept hair. "how is it so soft" you wondered out loud, Halsin just chuckled and let you have your fun.

he let out a content sigh. "awfully affectionate this morning. not that I mind" his lips pressed against your forehead. "Is something the matter?"

"no, I just missed my bear that's all" You studied his face, taking in every detail. "I think I finally understand the whole "appreciate nature's gift" thing." the druid just laughed warmly and shook his head fondly

the two of you spent all morning like that. his arms wrapped around you and you playing with his hair

🍓A/N

hey guys im back! so much as happened i graduated and im 19 now? life has been crazy!! i know this is different from my usual content but playing baulders gate gave me inspiration to write again. dont worry i will still take requests for RDR2 but i will also be writing for BG3. With that said im cleaning out my inbox so if you see your request finally go through a year later.............🤷‍♀️. i will also be taking BG3 requests. i did astarion, gale, and halsin i think i can write them comfortably. but do not be scared to request other characters if you really wanna see me write for them or have a really specific scenario in mind. i will also try to post every other Wednesday

love yall and thx for the support <3

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x reader #halsin #halsin x reader

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hey luv (haha) bombshell!reader lives rent free in my head and I have a lil request for you 🫶🏽 can you write spencer calling reader a nickname for the first time and how flustered she gets? especially in front of the team I would ashdfkflsjah i feel like she always teases him with baby, handsome, etc. and he just turns red but when it’s his turn for (non malicious) payback she melts into a puddle of 🥹🫦 and forgets how to act 🥲 thank you queen ily 🫰🏼

thank you! this isn't in front of the team but i can def do that if that was the most important part, ly ♡ fem

"What's that?" you ask, peering over Spencer's shoulder.

He turns his face to yours, sneaking a kiss against the curve of your neck. Your breath catches at his affection. "It's online shopping," he answers. "Have you seen it? They deliver your parcel the next day, apparently."

You like the sound of that, wheeling your chair next to Spencer's to sit at his desk side by side. You're in the midst of a very rare occasion in which there's no case and no paperwork. It won't last long, and you and your teammates are using these spare hours like a paid vacation. You deserve it (even if it isn't technically moral).

"What are you buying?" you ask, squinting at his glaring screen.

His gaze flashes between you and the monitor. He turns the brightness down for you. "You need new socks, right?"

"Don't buy me socks."

"Why not?"

"Because I can buy my own socks?"

"But I can also buy you socks. I felt bad this morning when I didn't have any matching pairs to lend to you. I'll buy you a big pack and this way you'll always have socks when you need them."

"Spence, that's so sweet," you say, your hand on his bicep, thumb stroking a line he likely can't feel over his layers. "You really don't have to, though. I kind of like the odd sock look."

Spencer looks down at your shoes. Your socks are mostly hidden. Despite what you've said, you don't like wearing odd ones, it doesn't fit your perfectly kept image, but you like Spencer a whole lot.

"No, you don't, and that's fine." He clicks on the Buy Now button, a twenty four pack of black and white crew socks jumping into his cart. "What else should we get?"

"We?" you ask, leaning back.

You've barely lifted your left leg when Spencer grabs you by the knee and drapes it over his right. "You never have the stuff you need when you come over. We may as well get it all done now while we have time."

"Are you serious?" you murmur, a slight pout to your lips.

Spencer's eyes dart down, catch, and lift back to yours. He sounds soft as you do as he says, "Of course I am. Am I being too forward?"

"You're never too forward. I'm too forward enough for both of us, Spence. But you don't have to buy me things, I can get all of this stuff myself and bring it with me."

"What kind of boyfriend does that make me?"

You can't believe he's your boyfriend. You could scream. "The most adorable one ever?" And that's just the half of it. Spencer Reid has a penchant for ignoring his own good looks. He could've been a super model if the whole genius thing didn't work out. "I need a pillow, then. If we're doing this Reid, let's do it. But I'm paying for my stuff."

"Okay, angel. Whatever you say."

You almost miss it, his pet name. Your brain assumes sarcasm, but when you play it back, there's only a soft giving in, like he'd do anything you asked him to just because it's you. Because you're an angel.

You've called him so many pet names and though you knew they flustered him, you're thinking maybe the team was right, and that you were torturing him the whole time. You melt like a little square of butter in the middle of a frying pan, limp in your seat and uncomfortably warm. Angel. It inspires the want to be saccharinely sweet to him, and you would if you could regain your strength.

You huff a breath up your hot face in hopes of cooling down.

"What kind of pillow? Do you want a really soft one? They have hypoallergenic, or down feather." He looks at you sideways. "You can't pay for this, it's too expensive."

"It's sixteen dollars," you say, feeling submerged.

"Exactly. Are you okay? You look uncomfortable."

"I'm feeling a bit hot, suddenly. Hot flush."

Spencer abandons the computer and his online activities to unbutton the top button of your shirt, and then the second, his hands achingly gentle against your collar. "I'll buy a fan," he says, one hand trailing down your arm soothingly as the other searches for paper. "But for now."

He fashions you an origami fan and fans you diligently. It works for a time, but you remember the dulcet cadence of his voice and the delicate way he strung the syllables together as though 'angel' were the name you were given at birth, and you feel warm all over again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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