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#instantly all memories return
heartkade · 2 years
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And when in S2 c!Foolish finds a cool untouched area to build a castle base and c!badboyhalo sets up his rickety little tent directly next to it? what then?
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theheadlessgroom · 1 year
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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/716259973868486656/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride
@beatingheart-bride
“It’s okay,” Randall assured her gently, seeing how unsettled she was by all the attention being on her all the sudden, while Wilhelm found himself smiling as he looked between his wife and son, saying, “That’s...that’s incredible! She must have the memory of an elephant-better than an elephant, even! A-And that sound, it’s...it’s...!”
“Beautiful,” June finished, trying to settle down her excitable husband so as not to ruffle their guest’s feathers (or scales, perhaps, would be the better comparison) too much, her too noticing how nervous she was at having an audience-to try and calm her, she gave her an honest applause, saying, “You have a very lovely voice, Emily.”
“Y-Yes, you-you do!” Wilhelm stuttered out, smiling to her as he paid her this compliment, saying, “I, uh, I’m not much of a singer myself, I just play this...”
“Oh, Wil, you’re a lovely singer!” June replied, kissing his cheek as Randall, smiling as well, encouraged, “Why don’t you show her your voice, Pa, I’m sure she’d like to hear it!”
Although Wilhelm good-naturedly protested, he just couldn’t say no to his family, and so, he smiled lightly to Emily as he once again began to play, his low, warm voice filling the room as his fingers ran along the strings:
“…Well, I'm sorry for the things that I told you, but words only go so far, and if I had my way, I would reach into Heaven and I'd pull you down a star  For a present, and I'd make you a chain out of diamonds, and pearls from a summer sea, But all I can give you is a kiss in the morning and a sweet apology...”
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grapecaseschoices · 1 year
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Band name, albums, and persona for all of your infamous mcs!! (Or whoever you’d like!!!)
Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?
I answered Lala here and Ori here.
Alana: Promised Promises.
Because I like pain, I feel the band name started with Alana and Seven. Essentially, just two young kids promising to be best friends forever (punctuated with their pinkies locked and kissing the other's thumb). Maybe they used to say cute things to each other like: 'Promisies?' (Alana probably started it and Seven fondly, exasperatedly, laughingly jumped into it because it made Alana laugh in turn) 'Are you a promiser?' Or 'I promised promised'. And so the band name came to be. Alana would rather die than change it.
Bethany Josnel: The Notations
No. I feel BJ's band name started the same reason I picked it oocly. It made me think of the Temptations, he's an r&b dude, and he plays the piano, lol.
I imagine people church probably played a lot of soul and OG R&B. Little Seven and BJ walking home from BJ's choir practice (that Seven hung around at) singing 'My Girl' to each other (not yet realizing my girl would mean my guy/my boy in about ten years). I think originally they had considered something more homage like, maybe something similar to the Ruinations (sounds pretty metal) or the Inclinations (they found a thesaurus) -- but maybe the wording 'musical notation' came up in a conversation, or they overheard it, and they looked at each other and new. And so it stuck.
Hiyam: The Vespas.
Yes. And surprisingly it was NOT after Seven left. Very early on the were known as Brimstones (aka Gonepteryx rhamni); Rown and Seven's urge to satisfy Hiyam's obsession with all flying/winged beings and still sound cool (she would rather die than admit it, but Hiyam thinks maybe it's a good thing they didn't go with Flying Squirrels). But it didn't last too long. Partially because people kept getting disappointed at a pop group called Brimstones and partially because people started calling Hiyam Bitches (instead of witch) and Brimstone .... and Seven couldn't fight everyone who insulted her girlfriend, so.
Albums: What are some of the albums the band has released? Are they a consistent style? What themes did they explore?
(Really making me dig up and ponder my notes huh? ;-P)
Lala
First EP was Pitchforks & Torches, First Album Here Kitty Kitty. P&T was really just a sample of sound. It was eclectic but not messy; it was eclectic in the sense that it was a nod to their origins and each song focused on two or more different band members' strengths. But the flow was good and the song titles followed the band theme. I think the best way to call it was alternate but the folk influences were there.
Then Here Kitty Kitty came out and though it was still alternative, still a bit folky, it veered hard into more an alternative hip hop sound. Though, the genre was different, the base was the same. You can definitely see that highlighting various band members vibe, still feel that twang, and that adventerous yet rebelliously nonchalant (nonchalantly rebellious) vibe of the EP. Their second album self titled DramaWh*re is another turn, away from the alternative and more folk, more twang, more southern. It focuses a bit more on Lala's vocals but not enough to push the band into acoustics land -- they've always been about supporting the group/doing what's best for it. It is a surprise but it's not a surprise.
As stated, there's a rebellious edge to a lot of DramaWh*re's songs. It is about making trouble and having fun, but not letting that overtake you. In the same name of having trouble and making fun, they like to dive into some ~sexiness~. Maybe a bit of spicy, a dip of romance. You can't fuck around without some fucking, after all. So DramaWhore's stuff (as the name implies) tends to be explicit.
Ori
Gains genre/vibe, as I like to term it is, Gympop or Himbro Punk Rock (aka synthpop). And though they've definitely touched into other genres (eletronic, indie pop/rock, pop punk etc), that's their heart. Whether they're singing about summertime sunshine, video games, doing reps, or badly flirting with people at a club, that's the base of their sound -- synthpop ........ and making sure people are having fun. While Lala's fun energy tends to read more let's bungee jump the grand canyon or yolo, let's go on stage half drunk and sing about our ex (daring, messy, a touch cocky); Ori's fun is more bonfire turn beach rave -- do a keg stand and pull out the glowsticks. It's silly, it's goofy, and it's energetic. Honestly, that's not just their vibe but also what they sing about (they probably have a song called glowstick ....)
A lot of their songs is about being down on your luck but still pushing through it: appreciate life, your loved ones, and everything in between. Maybe you're a loser but at least you're still living, dude.
Persona: How does their day-to-day personality compare to their on-stage persona?
Hiyam
Hiyam very much gives off the 'I'm the bitch you married' vibes (never seen gone girl, going off the gifs). And that is just a correct estimation of her personality. She might actually worse off stage? Like ruder. Because you want to beguile them on stage, right? On stage Hiyam is look at the sway of my hips, the turn of my hands, listen to my powerful vocals -- I make you want to come and go. Off stage Hiyam is MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY.
Man, IDK. I'm tired. Personally I don't see them as overly too different. Hiyam struts on stage because she's just as arrogant off. She takes center and allures with her powerful vocals, and she's someone who will tell you what she feels (except if you're Orion) off stage. And because she knows she's the star. All eyes remain on her -- for better and for worse. She's audacious on and off. And she's definitely still a fashionista.
Actually, though, after doing this I really do think she's NICER on stage qwert lmao.
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idontknowiknow · 2 months
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HATE to attempt to introduce myself to someone only to find out that we hung out semi-regularly a few years ago and i once returned their scarf to their house when they left it somewhere -_-
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shoyudon · 26 days
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𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 .ᐟ
when their baby doesn't recognize them after they come home from a long mission.
starring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x fem! reader
heads up. pure fluff, your child with toji is baby gumi :D
note. this is how everything should have been :< anyways, just an information, my blog now runs on queue so, i'm grind writing before i get too busy for everything since my finals are coming up! chap 259 leaks got me on my knees and telling my friends i needed a whole ass break, gege when i catch u gege.
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"i'm home!" gojo's cheery voice rings out throughout his warm home, despite his fatigue catching up with him. he drops a few crown colored paper bags on top of the kitchen counter — his nostrils twitching at the smell of your home cooked meal that he's grown to miss a lot during his mission.
trotting down the hall, he could vividly hear the distinct voices of both you and his daughter's loud laughter, with a big smile he grips onto the door handle of his daughter's nursery and pulls it down eagerly, "daddy's home!"
you looked at the door in surprise, not hearing his call just a few minutes ago, "satoru? you're home!" you marvel out, happily. nose scrunching in just slightly — your daughter sat on the play mat, eyebrows furrowed and she shows no signs of happiness or excitement like you did.
gojo went in and engulfed you into a tight hug, "hi sweetie," he whispers, kissing your temple — his slender fingers squeezing your hips, "i missed you both so much, y'know?"
returning the hug, you inhaled his scent, "we missed you too, 'toru, i was wondering when you'd be home," gojo cupped your face, pecking your lips multiple times.
"'m home now, baby," his vague whispers enters your ear.
gojo's head turns to see his daughter, who has strands of white hair just like his along with her deep blue eyes, staring back at him in worry — and a tinge of suspicion glazing over them. she babbles in concern, pointing at you as a signal to come for her.
instead of you, gojo stepped towards her little figure, resulting in an erupt of loud wail. he flinched at the loud cry and got on his knees, slipping his big hands under his daughter's pits to pull her closer, "hey, hey . . . why're you crying, baby?"
her wails got worse along with a few kicks here and there, gojo turns to look at you in concern, wondering what was wrong with her, his deep blue eyes silently begging for help, "hey, shh. 'ts okay, daddy's here," he cooed in panic.
chuckling softly, you gently grabbed her away from him, "i think she might have forgotten you, 'toru. you've been gone for too long, y'know?" instantly, your daughter calms down, feeling your familiar grip on her, teary doe eyes suspiciously eyeing gojo up and down.
gojo's face fell, "babies have short term memory? i was gone for two weeks," he softly whispers.
you caressed his face, "'ts okay, love. it takes time, she'll eventually remember her daddy, won't you, princess?" your daughter swiveled her face away into your neck, peeking at gojo curiously every now and then.
"can i hold her, please?" he questions, almost desperately. he was gone for more than two weeks — and all he wanted was to coddle his wife and daughter, and yet, here he was; a stranger to his own five month old daughter.
you nodded, "mhm, take it slow, she'll remember you . . ."
gojo gently grabs her from your grip, cooing softly at her as she squirms a bit, crunching her short and chubby legs up. she wasn't crying, yet. but her blue eyes were staring into gojo deeply, as if she was assessing everything, "bwa!"
she began kicking her legs happily. the corner of gojo's lips tugged upwards slowly, "do you remember me now? hm? you remember daddy now?" he cooed, shaking his head gently before nuzzling his nose into her belly.
the interaction made you smile warmly. gojo who was once exhausted with fatigue chasing his tail, now all freshened up with a fatherly smile on his face, "made me all sad for a second, you silly bean," he chuckles, cradling her in his arms.
as he cooed, you could see your daughter giggling loudly, her body reacting to his words as if she understood them. all she saw was his smile and she's a laughing matter. brushing your fingers through gojo's hair, you whisper, "go shower, you're stinky, 'toru."
"mama's being mean, isn't she? daddy don't stink, right?" gojo jokes, "isn't it supposed to be her bed time now?"
you nodded, "i wanted her to see you, at least for a bit," gojo smiled at your thoughtfulness and pressed your daughter to his hip, using his free hand to pull you closer — he wrapped an arm around you, moving side-to-side slowly and without realizing; the slight movement made the baby drowsy, her eyelids drooping down slowly.
and before the both of you know, her soft snores resounded, cheek leaned onto gojo's shoulder as her arms went limp by her side. you chuckled, kissing her other cheek, "i leave you to lay her down in the crib then."
──────〃★ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
"baby, why is he staring at me like that?" geto questions softly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks back into his six month old son's (eye color) eyes in exhaustion.
just fifteen minutes ago, he had gotten back home after almost a three week mission — dropping his bags onto the couch, he greets you with a tight hug and a kiss on the lips, like he usually does every other day. on the other hand, greeting his not-so newborn son was a different experience, geto had his palm on the baby's head who was sitting on the his feeding chair. squatting down, all he got was an odd stare.
"you've been gone for almost a month, sugu'. he probably has a foggy memory of you," you explain, brushing your index finger over the baby's chubby cheek as his stare never bailed on getos' sitting figure across the table.
geto sighs, nodding his head, "if i get close, he won't cry, right?" he wouldn't say it out loud — but he often feared that this would happen at some point, his own son forgetting about him after a mission. given his job as a sorcerer, he'd have to go out on missions often, and some of them . . . don't exactly finish in a short amount of time. like this one.
"'m not sure, baby. why don't you come here and stop acting like you're our enemy?" you smiled at him, wiping the corner of your baby's stained lips, "'m pretty sure he's trying to remember your face! isn't that right, love? you won't forget your papa, will you?"
geto ascended from the chair, slowly stepping closer to both you and your son. he squats down in front of your son momentarily, "hi buddy," he gave out a small tired smile.
your son scrunched his face up slightly, eyes narrowing. you almost chuckled at the sight of geto's puckered lips, "you don't remember papa? 'm sad, y'know?" his voice softly cooed out, his finger reaching out to trace his baby's small button like nose.
as if your son realized that this was his father upon the soft touch on his nose, his face was no longer scrunched up, eyes returning back to normal — the difference? his toothless grin pops up, raspy laughter escaping his throat. geto smiles back in response, "yes, you do remember me, my baby boy."
geto stands up, carrying your son up from his feeding chair; not even caring about the mess on his son's tiny little bib. at this point, geto just wanted to hold his own flesh and blood, "papa missed you so much, y'know?" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses onto the baby's head.
your lips formed a smile in reflex, "see? he was just trying to remember you," geto chuckles out softly, nodding his head.
the then house that was filled with loud babbles and gargles of a baby refusing to eat, is now filled with euphoric laughter — it just felt magical. and watching your husband cradle your baby just felt like home, all you could do was stare at them both with much affection.
"bwaa! bababa!"
"mhm, that's right—" geto acknowledged calmly, rocking your son back and forth gently, "you're eating well, aren't you? look at the mess you made for mama. don't give her a tough time when papa's not home, 'lright?"
your son kicked his little legs downwards in response, his giggles loud and clear. geto took that as a yes to his question and nodded proudly, placing another gentle kiss to the baby's forehead.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji's job is a little questionable. all his life, he's never thought of settling in with a woman, marrying her, and having a son of his own — it all happened so fast. but toji has never really thought of it as a bad thing in the first place. he has a wife waiting for him everyday at home with his son to welcome him, it all felt unreal.
"hey," he mumbles out, leaning down to let you press a kiss on his cheek like you always do — once you did, toji returns the kiss on your lips, "missed you."
you leaned your forehead into his, "i missed you too, toji."
"ma!" a high-pitched voice attracted both of your attention, craning your neck to the side, you saw your one year old son peeking from behind the wall, timidly eyeing the stranger beside you — speaking of toji, by the way.
"gumi, come here," you beckoned him to come over, but the toddler stays in his spot, his little fingers grasping onto the corner of the wall as his eyes pierced onto toji's large figure. sensing his discomfort, you pulled yourself away from toji to approach megumi.
"what's wrong, baby?" you squat down to his eye level, gently grabbing him by his waist, "is something bothering you?" your questions went unanswered — but you figured it had to do something with toji as megumi's eyes never left him.
"baby, that's daddy. your daddy," you can't help but to chuckle softly, carrying the toddler into your arms; pressed to your hip. megumi didn't falter back or trashed, already accustomed to your touch. although you felt his little body tremble when you walked back over to toji, "don't you miss daddy? he's back!"
"dada?" megumi exclaims in a confused tone, patting your cheeks with his chubby little fingers, his toddler mind in a swirl of turmoil. still unconvinced at the fact that this big and tall stranger is his father, despite the same identical hair.
"mhm, that's dada," you point at toji, who has been awkwardly standing a in the same spot now — toji sighs and strides over to you, making megumi narrow his eyes in reflex, "dada, dada's home."
toji extended his finger and poked megumi's cheek teasingly with a straight face, "y' don't even remember your old man, huh?"
megumi scowls deeply, his nose scrunching; resulting in toji's satisfied smirk — the older man prompted to do the same thing again, poking megumi's cheek once more, like he always does to mess with him, "i made you, you little punk," toji rolls his eyes.
"dada!" megumi yells out in frustration, as if he now remembered that his father — toji, the same person who would always mess with him is now right back beyond his eyes, "dada dada!"
toji closened his index finger to megumi's face, and megumi instinctively wrapped his little fingers around toji's index finger, as if saying 'no!'
toji's face warmed up at the sight, and so he curled his finger to bring megumi's hand into his large one, "y'r old man missed you, y'know?" he mutters out gruffly, brushing megumi's cheek gently; so gently he's managed to surprise himself a couple of times.
"aww, he remembers you now, toji."
toji scoffs lightly, a small smile gracing his lips, "guess he does remember."
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 months
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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 
And that person is music producer, Y/N. 
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting. 
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing. 
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
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It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 
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The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one. 
NEXT PART
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borathae · 4 months
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"Jungkook returns from a work trip, which kept you away from each other for three long weeks. He seeks comfort in the fact that he can finally fall asleep next to you again. Come morning however, those giddy feelings turned into fiery desire. It doesn't matter that you are still sleeping. Jungkook missed you and he needs you."
♢ Requested by @seagulljk ♢
Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut
Warnings: cute love notes, naked cuddling, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, she calls him Bunny, consensual somnophilia, humping of her butt, thigh fucking, needy!Kook, begging, needy kisses, praise kink, good boy kink, spooning position, he cums too soon, creampie, sloppy oral (f.receiving), cum eating, pussy fingering, hair pulling (m.receiving), a bit of nipple play, body worshipping, possessive talk (he is all like "I'm yours"), subby boy tears, cuddly aftercare
Wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: I haven't heard from you in ages *stares longingly into distance* you requested this for Kinktober 22 and I finally finished it. it also fits perfectly into my biggest wish which is "kook comes homes". enjoy besties, this is so lovely ❤
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Not being home has become way too regular for him. Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much. The penthouse is quiet once again when he arrives. There was no delay in flights or traffic jams, it is simply that his plane landed late. And he hates it. He hates how often he has to leave these days.
You knew of his late arrival and therefore Jungkook is greeted with a sticky note on the coat hanger. He picks it up, reading it as he slips out of his coat. 
“Welcome home Bunny! Check fridge :D” 
Jungkook smiles and slips the note into the front pocket of his suit. He discards the suitcase by the stairs like always on his way to the fridge. He opens it. His eyes instantly drift to the container of fried rice and the array of side dishes. He takes them out, eyes drifting to the second sticky note on one of the containers. He picks it up and reads it. 
“Yaay you found me :D…” 
Jungkook smiles, scrunching his nose as he continues reading.
“...you can warm up the rice if you want to and add some cheese on top. I put all my love into it ♡…”
Jungkook feels his heart flutter. He hugs the sticky note to his chest and closes his eyes. One little squeeze and then he continues.
“...sorry I couldn’t be there. Today drained me :(...” 
“Oh no, I’m sorry”, Jungkook whispers and pouts.
“...I hope you are home safe. I adore you, my love ♡”
He smiles again, “I adore you too, my love.” 
He gives the sticky note a kiss and places it on the counter for later safe storing. He keeps a box with all your memories and little letters in his home office. Actually, it is three boxes and he is in the midst of filling up the fourth one. Jungkook likes to keep everything. Truly everything concerning your relationship. Your sweet notes will find their warm home with all the other precious memorabilia tomorrow morning once he slept his jetlag off.
He puts the container of rice into the microwave and uses the time to carry his luggage upstairs. He’ll do the laundry tomorrow. He slips out of his suit and changes into a simple t-shirt and sweats combo, then hurries downstairs again. The food is warmed up and ready, filling his nose with a mouth-watering scent. He takes the container and the side dishes and eats them standing by the kitchen island and with his eyes zoned out on the city lights.
It’s a good time. Jungkook missed your food so much. It is once again important to mention that he doesn’t expect you to cook and that you do so because you want to. If you suddenly decide to stop cooking, Jungkook would be sad because he loves your food the most, but he wouldn’t be angry. You do this voluntarily and Jungkook loves every single dish you make. Tonight’s dish tastes especially good. You grilled chicken breast and some vegetables and you even added canned tuna to the rice, topping everything off with a savoury-spicy sauce. Jungkook loves it so much.
He had to be without you for twenty days. It was hell again. Of course it was because he wasn’t with you. He missed everything about you and that also included your food. It tastes so good. So homemade, so full of love and care. Jungkook enjoys every bite as if it was his first, humming and moaning to himself as he enjoys the good food. 
Once done and happily sated, Jungkook washes the dishes and puts them back into their shelves. He wipes the part of the kitchen island counter he ate on and then makes his way to the upstairs bathroom to wash up. Afterwards and without any clothes on, he finally walks to the bedroom.
He is tired and more than anything, he misses you. 
He sadly walks by the little sticky note you left on the bedroom door because he didn’t have the lights on. He will find it tomorrow and read it with sparkly eyes. It says something along the line that behind this door his snuggles are waiting. You are such a cheesy romantic these days. Jungkook loves it so much. 
The blinds are closed completely. Like always, Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Like always, he only uses his phone flashlight for vision and like always, he uses his phone screen again as he tiptoes to the bed. He turns on his purposefully-weak night light and uses it to apply lip balm and drink some water. Then he slips under the cover, keeping the nightlight on for a little longer. You are turned to him, sleeping halfway on your stomach and with your cheek squished. 
Jungkook feels his heart swell and his stomach tingle. He reaches out and moves some of your hair out of your face. He brushes the back of his fingers down your temple and cheek, holding your hand afterwards. His thumb is drawing hearts on your skin. 
“I missed you”, he whispers and moves closer to kiss your cheek, your temple and lastly your eyelid as gently as possible. 
He gives the shell of your ear a soft kiss as well and caresses the back of your head before putting some distance between you and him. 
He turns off the nightlight and holds your hand again. He didn’t even have to look for it. He knew exactly where he would find it. 
He closes his eyes. He is so exhausted from travelling and finally being with you again is doing the rest to him. He is home again. And home means sleep. Jungkook listens to your breathing and finds healing in the sound of it.
Seconds later, he has joined you in dreamland, smiling faintly because nothing beats sleeping next to you.
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Jungkook opens his eyes to darkness. He was wrong. There is one thing which can beat sleeping next to you. Waking up with you in his arms. 
You are his little spoon, giving him warmth. He must have reached for you in his sleep or maybe you cuddled into him in your sleep. Whatever the case, Jungkook slept for nine hours and is waking up with you in his arms. Your scent is the only thing he takes in, he can feel your back sink and rise as you breathe, there is a little wet spot on his arm where you are drooling on him. 
Jungkook smiles and pulls you closer. You would hate it, but you are so cute right now. You would probably wrestle him for it – gently of course and with love – if you read his thoughts right now, but Jungkook thinks you are cute as you drool on his arm. 
His blanket slipped halfway off his body so that only the back side of his body was covered, while his front was pressed against your body. Your blanket served as a barrier and Jungkook doesn’t like that. He shimmies back just enough so that he can open the blanket and slip under. So now he has two blankets covering him and your body against his’.
He feels his breath hitch. You aren’t wearing clothes either. Your body is so warmed up from sleep, your skin is so soft. Jungkook feels his emotions overwhelm him. He was ready for everything but not to cuddle you naked on the first morning together again. He pulls you into his chest and exhales shakily. Your legs tangle as best as possible. Your butt applies pressure on his crotch. Jungkook feels whole again. This kind of emotion only you can give him. This kind of connection and comfort. 
This work trip didn’t leave him as anxious as previous ones did. You visited him for three days in the middle of it, which made it easier to bear, but it was still not easy. Jungkook still had to go seventeen days without you and the last week of the trip was hell. The hours were inhumanely long, the nights were lonely and the yearning unbearable. So Jungkook finds healing in holding you as your bodies share the most intimate of states. 
He stays like this for quite a while. Holding you. Feeling you. Breathing you. And experiencing you. This is what heaven is. This is it. This is the only thing which will make everything better again. Jungkook will fight through all the hellish work trips in the world if at the end of them, your hug awaits. 
Jungkook sighs and relaxes his muscles. He falls asleep again like this. The comfort of cuddling you naked dragged him right down into sweet dreams. He sleeps for another hour, then he wakes again. You are still sleeping, holding his hand by now. Your position hasn’t changed, but the state of one certain body part has. 
He got a boner. 
Jungkook didn’t plan on getting hard. His plan was to cuddle and snuggle you until late into the morning and then when you wake up, kiss you for hours with the sweet thought that maybe passionate sex will follow.
He wasn’t planning on getting hard already, but it seems that his body has different plans for him. It’s not even one of his normal boners. The kind he always gets in the morning because he is a healthy man with healthy blood circulation. 
This hard on aches and he knows for a fact that it won’t go away after a few minutes. It is here to stay and it is here to torture him. 
It is currently squished between his body and your butt. The pressure, which once gave him comfort, is torturing him. You are so soft and warm that it gets difficult not to move. 
He tries to check if maybe you are awake by giving your hand a little shake. You pull his hand closer, but stay unmoving otherwise. You are still asleep. 
Jungkook takes a deep breath, feeling dizzy. He has two options. Ignore the boner and suffer or attempt to find relief by rubbing himself against you. 
He knows that you wouldn’t mind if he did. You and he know that somno is allowed and appreciated, so Jungkook is aware that he has consent to get off with your sleeping body. He still hesitates. He always does because he feels like such a dirty man whenever he does it. He is embarrassed about getting so needy that he can’t even control himself anymore. And he also feels as if he is soiling your body. You are so precious to him, so to secretly find relief with you always leaves him feeling a little guilty.
You would call him a stupid noodle if you knew his thoughts. 
Jungkook feels needy tingles go through his legs. The reminder of his beloved nickname made him even hornier. He loves being your stupid noodle and he always gets giddy when you call him this way. 
He wiggles his hips. Slowly. Just a little. His pretty cockhead grinds against your butt up and down. 
He squeezes your hand, muffling his shaky sigh in the back of your head. This felt so good. He wants to experience it again. 
He wiggles his hips. His cock moves. Up and down. The sensation is electric. Your skin is so soft. Your warmth seeps so deep into his cock. He wants more.
He moves his hips and does it a second time right afterwards. His legs feel so, so warm as the pleasure emits from his cock.
“Oh god”, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He is propped up on his elbow this way, using the new support to roll his hips into you. Your scent fills his nose as he inhales deeply in reaction to the grinds. Mellifluous and warm from sleep. You only smell like this when you spent hours cozy and comfy under the covers. You get this addicting sweetness to you. He always feels droopy from it.
Jungkook wets your skin because it makes him so, so needy to have it fill his senses. It makes grinding so much easier and for his needy hips to chase the short relief with eagerness. 
He wants to fucking scream, this feels so good. Grinding hasn’t felt that good in ages. Jungkook knows it’s because he hadn’t been home for such a long time. The thought that he wasn’t, makes him want you even more. 
Jungkook reaches between your bodies and grabs his own cock. He bends it so he can push it between your thighs. The friction is intense, bordering painful. It would be so much easier if he used lube. He can’t reach it right now. You are in the middle of the bed and if he moved too much, he’d wake you.
Jungkook bites down on his lower lip and pushes harder. It burns. He swallows the pain and pushes one last time. Your thighs welcome his cock, letting him sink between them. They hug and squeeze, feeling oh so hot around him. 
“Mommy”, Jungkook moans and pulls his hips back. His cock slides from between your thighs. He pushes it back inside, leaving trails of wetness. It begins covering more and more of your skin, making the fucking easier. 
Jungkook pulls back just to push inside. He does it over and over again, biting his lower lip so hard that it starts to hurt. If he wouldn't muffle himself, he’d wake you up with incessant moaning. Your thighs are so soft. The position they are in as you slumber, makes them press together naturally and therefore get so, so tight to fuck. 
No wonder it hurt at first until he got embarrassingly needy. He gets wet so easily. The friction isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It is still there, but it feels amazing. It makes sure to drag and move his sensitive skin right over the spots which are filled with the most nerve endings and Jungkook can’t stop.
He fucked himself needy. There is no escape anymore. He has to continue. His boner wouldn’t ever go down otherwise.
“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he whimpers and drags his parted lips over your neck in what try to be kisses. He is so, so drooly in his worshiping attempt, but he can’t help himself. Your thighs make him feel so, so, so woozy. 
He kisses, licks and sucks your neck with closed eyes and his leaky cock twitching between your thighs. Small moans escape him. He has no control over them. He is too far gone. Too lost in how good you feel. 
Oh how lost he is. So, so lost that he doesn’t even realise he began slipping up until he suddenly feels something else grind against his cock as well. Your pussy. Soft. Your groomed pubes bring such a new sensation to the fuck. 
“Mommy please”, it makes Jungkook beg instantly. He closes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as his hips pick up a needy pace. 
This is making him desperate. He is so close to the warmest and softest spot of your body. He is right there. At his home. And he can’t slip inside because the current position would end up hurting for you. You are too tight to slip in. Jungkook is left fucking his needy cock between your thighs and make do with what little contact he has to your pussy.
“Mommy please wake up”, he begs and sucks on your earlobe. He mewls and keens, finding immense relief in the sensation. His cock twitches, his body shivers, “oh god”, he croaks. His lips are pressed to your ear as he begs, “please Mommy, please.” 
You shift in his arms, rolling closer into his chest. Your head moves. Jungkook’s heart skips beats. His hips stutter in excitement.
“Bunny?” 
“Hey Mommy, hey”, he gets out and mewls, “oh god, you’re awake.”
“What’s happening?” your voice is heavy in sleep. You sound so out of it still. 
“I’m sorry. Mommy, I’m sorry. I got hard”, he confesses and whimpers as he fucks his cock between your thighs in example. 
You are barely awake. You still feel disoriented from sleep, so the sensation of Jungkook fucking his cock between your thighs is hidden behind a droopy veil. 
“Please can I slip it in?” Jungkook begs and pulls you closer with his hand dimpling your side.
“Mhm Bunny, you’re doing things”, you lull and laugh sleepily, “you stupid noodle.”
Jungkook trembles. Tears shoot to his eyes. He whimpers in overwhelming emotion.
“Please Mommy, please I’m begging you. Oh god, I wanna be inside so bad. Oh god”, he babbles in high pitched pleas, shaking behind you as his twitchy cock leaks all over your skin. 
His begs are muffled as well. You are so nicely gone in sleep still. You are very awake between your legs however. Jungkook’s needy humping brought all the attention right between them and woke you up. So while the rest of your body was still useless in sleepiness, you feel achingly awake on the spots where his cock grinds against you.
“Please, I’ll be careful. Please, I’m begging you”, Jungkook pleads, struggling with his thrusts as his legs tremble, “oh god, I don’t know what to do. It hurts so much”, he gets out and sobs into your neck, “Mommy please make it stop, please.” 
“Fuck, you’re so needy”, you chuckle lazily, giving his hand a little squeeze. You shift your hips and lift your leg. 
“No, please more”, Jungkook begs and tries to push your leg down again.
“Bunny, I’m trying to give you access. What are you doing?” you laugh, shaking him off.
“Oh. Oh god, I’m so stupid”, he babbles.
“No, you’re not. Slip in, Bunny.”
“Mommy”, he whimpers and follows your order instantly. He pushes inside. The breach steals your breath away. Insane warmth fills your pussy instantly. Holy fuck, you missed him so much. 
You reach behind yourself, burying your hand in his hair. You close your eyes because being filled with him feels too overwhelming not to.
“Mommy”, he whimpers, letting his head drop against the side of your face, “I love you”, he squeaks and bottoms out. He shakes and trembles, soiling your cheek with a sloppy attempt at a kiss as his arms pull you tighter against him.
“I love you too, Bunny.”
“Oh god, ahmhm.”
He chases you instantly. The sensation is too addicting not to. He whimpers and mewls as he does, leaving kiss marks all over your face. You have your head turned to him so you are getting kissed everywhere. Your cheek, your nose, your eyelid and forehead. Down your temple until he finally lingers on your lips for longer. 
You receive them with closed eyes and a droopy smile. He feels so good. He feels so good filling you up, he feels so good holding you and he feels so good kissing your face. This is the best way to wake up. Nothing will ever top this. 
You drop your leg again because you got tired. The sensation intensifies. You moan feeling your senses blur. He is inside you. It gets so intensely obvious now that you are so tight.
“Mommy”, he whimpers into the kiss, feeling his legs shake, “tight, ah.”
“I know. Feels so good”, you whisper with a dizzy head. You can feel him shift and move inside you. His cock is so soft and covered in your wet pleasure. It grinds against your butt and parts of your thighs each time he moves, leaving trails of wetness behind. You know that he us getting fucked twice. By your pussy and your thighs. 
“It’s so intense”, he gets out and moans desperately.
“I know, you’re getting fucked so good. Mhm?”
“So good”, he whimpers, “oh god, Mommy.”
“My Bunny”, you moan and pull him back into a kiss as you finally show him the rhythm you want. He is a little sloppy at first until you calm him down with rubs to his neck and your tongue guiding his’. 
And while his lips calm down against yours, his hips become needier. He pushes them against you as tightly as possible, keeping his cock so, so deep inside one might wonder if he tries to bury his balls in you as well. He probably would if he could. 
Oh, he wants to fucking melt with you. He is so deep inside and yet he still aches. Not even your pussy is giving him the relief he needs. He keeps pressing against you, chasing the tight hug of your soft warmth with small circles of his hips.
You moan into the kiss, twisting his hair gently. Jungkook whimpers because he knows what this means. He is hitting the right spot. Or at least he is getting there.
He feels that you are different than on days where you dedicate a lot of time to foreplay. He knows that you haven’t been paid attention to for enough time that your pussy could properly shift and change to take cock. But he is getting there. Your moans and needy twisting of his hair is letting him know. 
He slides his right hand down your stomach, lingering on the lowest part for a moment. He presses down until he feels how his cock shifts inside.
The kiss breaks, “Bunny”, you breathe and arch your back so you could press yourself closer. He is squeezing the sensitive parts right against his cock. The small circles of his hips give them a constant massage. It feels so good.
“Is it good? Am I careful enough?” he asks in a trembling voice.
“Yeah, ah”, you let out a little moan and pull him down against your lips. 
Jungkook feels his cock throb. Not only on his cock but also against his hand. He doesn’t know how to handle the increasing pleasure running through his veins and so he slides his hand from your stomach to rub your clit instead. He picks up some of the juices coating his cock and uses them to massage circles into your sensitive spot. 
“Bunny", you break the kiss again to gasp and moan. You throb under his fingers, convulse around his cock. The spots he hits inside gain in sensitivity. You are burning up.
“Am I doing good, Mommy?” he begs for your praise. Please. It is everything he needs.
“So good”, you get out and push back against him, “good Bunny, holy fuck ah…”
“Mommy", he sobs softly and feels his hips falter, “oh god, I’m close.”
“Suddenly?” 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 
He stops his thrusts in an attempt to calm down the approaching high, but he is too far gone. His thoughts are pushing him over the edge. You praised him. This is everything he needed.
“Ah! Oh god, sorry”, he moans and trembles, “no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.”
You chuckle fondly, running your fingers through his hair. He is so adorable. Your sweet Bunny so, so excited from being praised that it’s throwing him over the edge. 
“I’m so sorry oh god it feels so goood.”
“There we go, let it all out Bunny. That’s it”, you talk him through it, playing with his hair as you do. You can’t even be mad at him for stopping. Not when he is so adorable.
Jungkook finishes after five twitchy strokes, dropping on top of you as his face hides away in your neck. His cock is buried inside, pulsating weakly as he recovers.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this was so bad of me. I’m sorry”, he gets out between quick pants. 
“You’re right. You’re such a bad Bunny”, you lull, grinning to yourself.
“I’m sorry, Mommy”, he whimpers, shaking in a little sob, “oh god, I’m a bad Bunny. So, so bad. Mommy, you can punish me.”
“No Bunny. No punishments. I want you to say sorry.”
“Oh god”, he croaks.
You smile.
He understood. Good.
“Can you do that for me, Bunny? Can you say sorry?”
“Yes, Mommy. I can. Oh, I can”, he says and slips out of you. 
He rolls you onto your back and disappears under the blanket. Seconds later you feel his hot mouth on your pussy and his long fingers holding your waist. 
“Mhhm fuck”, you purr, arching your back languidly as his hot tongue laps at your pussy. The sensation is different from his fingers. Wetter, hotter and softer. You fucking love every second of it.
He mewls under the blanket, feeling so dizzy. His cum keeps seeping out of you. No matter how hard he tries to clean you, he just can’t finish it. You keep leaking more and more. 
“Mommy, I came so much”, he lets you know and swirls his tongue down your folds, lapping at your entrance. He needs to clean you. He needs to say sorry. He needs to be a good boy. He licks your creamed entrance, trying so hard to get it clean.
“You did”, you sigh your words, feeling lightheaded, “keep going until I’m clean.”
Jungkook hums in obedience and slurps. He licks, laps, slurps and sucks, needing you to be clean so fucking bad. He needs to show you that he is still good. That he is your best Bunny and not a naughty Bunny. This is all he needs and all he craves. He wants you to know that what he did was a mistake. And that he regrets it deeply. 
“Fuck, you feel so good”, you let out and writhe happily. His tongue is filling you as far as he can reach, while his nose is buried between your folds. He has the perfect nose. It fits so perfectly in your pussy to grind on your clit whenever he tongue fucks you. 
“Good Bunny, you’re so…good…”
Jungkook mewls at the praise, dimpling your waist as his needy fingers close tighter around you. Your lovely taste begins seeping more and more through the tangy taste of his own cum. He is doing such a good job at cleaning you, speeding up his tongue because he is so excited for your taste. 
It makes the wettest sound, filling the air with it. It motivates him to perform even better. To press himself closer and fill your pussy. His nose is covered in your juices, stimulating your clit. He feels her throb on the tip of his nose as your scent surrounds him. You smell so warm after penetration. He can’t get enough, showing his desperation by curling his tongue inside you.
Your legs tremble and slip over his arms. Propped up on the mattress and continuing to shake, they lift the blanket just enough that fresh air gets to him. It was so perfectly stuffy and warm before, but Jungkook doesn’t want to complain because he is trapped under your legs and that feels so good. 
“You’re so fucking good”, you get out breathily and run your fingers through his hair. You do it with both hands, giving him loving caresses without ever pulling at his hair. The sensation brings trembles to Jungkook’s lips. The tingles don’t stop running down his spine. 
He breaks away because he genuinely can’t breathe. His nose was blocked by your pussy and his mouth gagged by it. He didn’t want to break away but he had to. He pants, recovering by sloppily kissing the inside of your thighs. He holds them in his hands for it, leaving spots of sensitivity because he sucks way too hard. You let him because it feels so good. 
“I belong to you”, he gets out, “oh god, I’m yours. Yours. I’m yours.” 
“Yeah, mine”, you sigh, “my Bunny.”
“Yours. You own me”, he croaks and connects his mouth with your pussy. He moans, sucking your clit between his lips to make out with it needily. 
His drool runs down your folds and leaves you so messy for later. He can’t help it, you taste mouth-wateringly good. All cleaned of his cum and so intensely you. Jungkook swears he gets dizzy because of it. He missed your taste so much. So, so much.
“Fuck Bunny”, your voice trembles, just as your legs do, “my good Bunny, fuck you’re so good. Holy fuck”, you whispered at first but end up babbling the words as his quick tongue fucks your clit sensitive. 
Jungkook swears he will actually scream because of your praise. He loves it on normal days, but something about it today affects him like nothing else. He feels delirious from it, high and totally out of it. Perhaps it is because he had to be with it for seventeen days. Perhaps he is so starved for it, because his situation starved him. 
He slides his right hand from your waist and shifts a little so he could run his fingers down your folds. Your juices and his drool cover them instantly. He slides his left arm over your tummy, squeezes your side and pushes his fingers inside. Three at a time because you feel so ready for it. 
“Holy fuck. Ah!” 
You arch your back and pull his hair. 
“Jungkook.”
His name fell from your lips. Jungkook presses himself closer and curls his fingers needily. He is doing the best job. You only moan his name when he’s got you high on pleasure. 
Your right leg drops in the sheets because you didn’t have support anymore. You prop it again clumsily and roll your hips into him. 
“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh god”, you chant, gasping for air repeatedly. 
Jungkook mewls and moans against your pussy. His mouth is pressed to your clit, his tongue is lapping at her in upwards motions. He moans each time he drags it down again and pulls another shake from your legs.
Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, leaking constantly. Your favourite spot is so swollen under his fingertips. He would have to be a total idiot not to know where to touch because it is so fucking obvious to him. And oh how he touches you, how he makes sure that you get fucked so good now that his cock failed to do so. 
“Fuck Bunny”, your voice is slightly pitched, your fingers twist bundles of his hair, “I’m…close…mh ah.” 
Jungkook shakes in excitement. His instinct is to speed up, to do something different so you know how talented he is. But he knows better. You don’t want him to change anything, you want him to continue doing what he is doing right now. So he controls himself. He brings in your waist a little from his desperate grip and he moans against your pussy as his drooly mouth makes love to her. He curls his fingers where you need it most and he keeps pressing down on it as he rubs circles on it. 
You arch your back, twisting his hair because it is all that helps. You missed him so much. You missed his touch, his moans, his mouth on you. You are just as sensitive as him, closing your thighs around his head as the fire in your body gets too much.
“You’re making me cum”, you moan and drop in the sheets with a loud groan of his name. He drags his tongue up and breaks you. Your entire body is overtaken by the fire instantly, it feels most intense in your pussy. “ah Bunny, ah, aha, aah, oh god Bunny…”
Jungkook licks you through it, spilling tears of happiness because he is making you feel good and because he really missed feeling your orgasm on his tongue. You always throb and pulsate so much and it’s the best feeling ever. You’re squeezing his fingers so much, tightening in the most perfect ways. Jungkook fingers and licks and sucks you through it, moaning as if he was the one orgasming.
“Woah damn, wait”, you get out, tugging him away after the good turns bad because of overstimulation, “too much. Sensitive. Woah”, you add and twitch repeatedly.
“Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and kisses paths of admiration up your stomach. He pulls his fingers free, using them to hold you instead. To feel you up and remind his brain how it is to cradle you.
“Thank you so much”, he breathes, covering every inch of your stomach with kisses.
You enjoy it with closed eyes and your lungs working so hard to get air inside. Oh you feel so dizzy. This is going to take a while. 
Jungkook reappears from under the blanket, worshiping your chest now that every inch of your stomach has been adored. He cradles your breasts in his hands, kissing every inch of them with love and shaky breaths.  
“You’re such a good Bunny”, you whisper, feeling his lips tremble against your nipple. He takes it inside and sucks on it, mewling your name because you make him feel so good. He breaks away with yet another mewl of your name, kissing paths up to your neck.
His crotch meets your own, sharing the warm, sticky connection of good orgasms. He is soft, which lets you know that it will take a while for him as well. His tummy and chest are on top of yours, his elbows dimple the pillow beside your head. He hides away in the crook of your neck and begins kissing your sensitive skin. 
“I missed you so much”, he whispers and hugs you. 
Your head is cradled between his own head and the tensing muscles of his upper arm. His warm scent is so strong this way, his skin feels like heaven. You roll your head to the side so you could rub your nose against his head, and close your arms around him. 
“I missed you too”, you say and kiss his cheek, “my best Bunny, this was the loveliest way to wake up.” 
“Yeah”, he sighs, “it was so good. Mommy, can you praise me again?” 
You smile, hugging him closer, “my best Bunny, you’re such a good boy.” 
“Did I do a good job?”
“Yes Bunnybaby, you did the best job.”
Jungkook giggles, melting into you as he puts his weight on you. He wiggles happily, making you smile.
“You’re cute.”
“I love praise so much.”
“I know Bunny and you deserve it”, you say, listening to his happy giggles.
“I’m so happy to be home again”, he says and snuggles closer, “my Mommy. I missed you so much.” 
“Mhm yeah”, you agree and ruffle his hair, “you’re not leaving again. You’ll stay in my arms today.”
He giggles, “this is the best day ever.” 
2K notes · View notes
chvoswxtch · 4 months
Text
let's play
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid
summary: sharing is caring, afterall.
warnings: once again, every single one of them. swearing, spencer whimpering, daddy hotch, derek morgan's blinding charming ass smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 4.9k
a/n: the highly requested and anticipated sequel to slumber party has arrived. once again, there is no plot, bc none of you came here for that. you don't have to read part one to understand this installment, but it is highly encouraged. please enjoy this lil valentine's treat from me to you. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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Before Hotch or Derek even had a chance to step foot into Spencer’s hotel room, Spencer had kicked it shut behind himself after ushering you inside. The two men exchanged looks of confusion, glancing between each other and the closed door in front of them. Derek held his bag by the handles over his shoulder in one hand, and when he went to twist the knob on the door, it was locked. He raised his fist to lightly knock against the door.
“Hey Reid-”
“Come back in an hour.”
Derek’s ebony brows instantly pinched together, and he tossed Hotch an incredulous look over his shoulder.
“What’d he just say?”
Hotch’s permanent scowl abruptly returned to his sharp features as he stepped forward, raising his fist to pound harshly against the door.
“Reid, open this door, now.”
“In an hour.”
Derek let out a scoff, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.
“What happened to sharing, pretty boy?”
“We will, in fifty-nine minutes.”
Spencer’s voice was somewhat muffled through the thickness of the door, and it sounded far away, like he was deeper inside the room. Before either of them could say another word, a loud moan suddenly sounded from inside that clearly belonged to you. Hotch clenched his jaw while Derek stepped forward with an expression of pure irritation.
“Reid, either you open this door, or I’m kicking it down so help me-”
Hotch placed his palm against Derek’s chest and gave a slight shake of his head. Without another word, Hotch reached into his pocket and produced a room key, and in one swipe, a click followed by a flashing green light signaled that the door was unlocked. Hotch twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room with Derek hot on his heels. 
Spencer’s head perked up from between your thighs at the abrupt intrusion, his lips and chin already glistening with your arousal, and a concoction of puzzlement and vexation knit his brows together.
“How-”
Hotch held up his right hand with the key card nestled between his index and middle finger, arching one of his thick brows in a pointed expression.
“You think I don’t have a master key to each of my agent’s rooms for emergency purposes?”
While on his knees in front of the bed with his hands clamped firmly around your soft thighs, Spencer stared at the key in Hotch’s hand as if it had personally wronged him. He hadn’t planned for that. He had planned on having you all to himself for an hour before he had to share.
“Son of a bitch.”
Derek’s mouth instantly parted into an amused tooth bearing grin at Spencer’s outburst of realization, and he chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest, causing his light gray t-shirt to stretch over his firm chest and large biceps.
“Nothing like a pretty girl to slice that genius IQ right in half. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
Raising up on your elbows on the bed, you glanced over at Derek with a faint smirk as you arched one of your brows in a teasing gesture.
“I don’t know what you’re getting cocky about. He’s the one with the eidetic memory of the female anatomy and what I like.”
“Oh it’s like that, huh? Do I need to remind you who in this room has the most practice with female anatomy? Cause I seem to remember you feeling pretty satisfied on the jet earlier.”
Slipping your hand down into the mess of light brown curls on top of Spencer’s head, you gave his hair a gentle tug to guide his mouth back to where you wanted it, a silent command he happily obliged. Feeling the warmth of Spencer’s wet tongue starting to glide slowly over your clit again, you laid back against the mattress once more and closed your eyes while a soft sigh emitted from your parted lips.
“A little refresher course never hurt anyone. Take a seat, boys. Dr. Reid is giving an oral presentation.”
Whatever argument Hotch or Derek had quickly died on their tongues as they became entranced watching Spencer sensually and slowly eat your pussy from his spot on his knees at the edge of the bed. The four of you had spent the past twelve hours since the jet landed making your rounds at the police station, visiting the scene of the crime, and the medical examiner’s office before Hotch finally decided it was time to check into the hotel. All of you were beyond exhausted, but none of you could stop thinking about what was going to happen the second the four of you were finally alone together.
There had been a buzzing energy surrounding the four of you since you stepped off the jet with the promise of more in the back of everyone’s minds.
As much as their hands were itching to touch you, Hotch and Derek couldn’t tear their eyes away from the enticing show taking place in front of them. The way your body writhed gently against the mattress, the rhythm of your hips rolling back and forth against Spencer’s face like a delicate ocean tide, the soft and hedonistic noises of pleasure that rose in volume and pitch as Spencer devoured you like a man on death row savoring his last meal.
“At least we found a way to shut him up.”
Hotch softly grinned at Derek’s quiet quip while reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie completely, slipping it from around his neck. 
“Silver lining. Help her get more comfortable, would you?”
Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly behind himself. As soon as his belt was unbuckled, he kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans down to his ankles to step out of them, leaving him in a white pair of briefs that were already bulging from his half hard cock.
“Way ahead of you.”
Taking a few steps over towards the large bed, Derek moved to sit on his knees right behind your head and leaned forward to grab the bottom of your dress that was bunched up around your hips. He pulled it upwards to slip it off of you, leaving you completely exposed. The cool temperature in the room quickly had your nipples rising to stiff peaks, and you shivered when Derek’s large and warm hands began to squeeze your breasts firmly. Letting your eyes flutter open, you stared up into Derek’s deep and warm chocolate brown eyes as he flashed you that charming grin that never failed to make you weak in the knees.
“Reid putting his mouth to good use?”
Sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip, you arched your back slightly off the mattress and moaned in response as Spencer trapped your clit between his soft lips and began to suck fervently. In return, you gave his hair a rough tug which had a moan of his own vibrating against your soaked cunt. The vibrations echoed throughout your trembling thighs, and your stomach felt tight with anticipation for what was coming, and what would follow afterwards.
Derek toyed with your sensitive nipples, alternating between flicking his thumbs over them, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, and pinching gently. He leaned over you, teasingly gliding his tongue in a languid circle around your hardened nub before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing you to tug harder at Spencer’s unruly roots. The combination of the stimulation from Derek and Spencer was almost too much, and it had you barreling towards euphoria quickly.
Opening your eyes, you were immediately drawn to the sight of Hotch sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, watching intently while a haze of lust darkened his eyes to the deepest shade you had ever seen them. He was still fully dressed in his suit, but he held his tie tightly in his right hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through your nervous system.
“Who’s that for?”
Hotch lifted his gaze from Spencer’s head between your thighs to meet your eyes, and a wicked smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
“Now if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”
Oh.
Hotch was in the mood to play. 
The more comfortable the four of you got with your little arrangement, the more everyone started to see the real version of one another in the bedroom. Out of the three men, Hotch was by far the most dominant, and enjoyed being in complete control, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. But the fetishes that lurked beneath the surface did catch you off guard from time to time. 
Derek wasn’t too keen on being tied up, unless you talked him into it on rare occasions, so you and Spencer were usually the object of Hotch’s bondage fantasies. You didn’t realize you would enjoy being completely at someone else’s mercy so much, but with Hotch, you found it incredibly erotic. Everything he did was to maximize your pleasure. He may have liked being in control, but out of the three of them, he definitely took the cake for being a giver.
The second Spencer gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive clit, your orgasm unexpectedly crashed over you without warning, and your body seized up while repetitive cries of pleasure tore through your chest. Gripping the sheets so hard in your fists your knuckles turned stark white, you tried to weakly pull away from Spencer’s delectable assault on your overstimulated clit, but Derek held your hips down firmly so that Spencer could continue to ravenously collect every drop you had to offer. 
The line between pleasure and pain was beginning to blur, and relief only came when Hotch grabbed Spencer by his hair and tugged his head backwards before pulling him up to his feet. Spencer’s pupils were completely blown open with lust, and his lips were somewhat swollen as they glistened with the burst of gratification he had wrung from you. He was lightly panting trying to catch his own breath.
“That’s enough.”
“But I-”
“You get to fuck her when I say you can. Understood?”
Spencer’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, one of his physical tells that he was aroused and trying to contain himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded his head in silent obedience. The deep and calm tone of Hotch’s voice was laced with a delicate warning, letting all three of you know that there was no room for debate regarding who was in control tonight.
You didn’t call him “Daddy of the BAU” for nothing.
“Yes sir.”
Releasing his grip on Spencer’s hair, Hotch grabbed onto the back of his neck instead and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, swiping his tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip and biting it roughly while humming in appreciation at the taste of you that lingered. A low growl sounded from deep within Hotch’s chest as he let go of Spencer.
“Good boy. Get undressed and switch places with Morgan.”
While Derek and Spencer swapped places, you moved to sit up on wobbly knees, and Hotch stepped forward to capture your jaw in his large hand, his ring and pinky finger resting along your neck against your pulse point to feel the thrum of your pounding heartbeat. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip lightly, and a flash of pure lust eclipsed over his darkened eyes when you wrapped your lips around it and pressed your tongue firmly against the pad of his thumb. He bent down to where your noses were just barely an inch apart.
“Do you think you could handle two of us at once, sweetheart?”
Your eyes instantly lit up at the question. Normally they all took turns with you, or one fucked you while you sucked another off. You had only taken two of them at once twice before, and while it caused a lingering ache for the following days after, it was absolutely worth it. Nodding your head eagerly, Hotch let out a dark chuckle as a crooked grin split across his lips.
“Good girl.”
Tearing his gaze away, Hotch looked at Derek and tossed him the tie that was in his hand, gesturing with his head towards Spencer’s direction.
“I want his hands tied to the bed.”
Derek turned to look down at Spencer with an amused smirk, taking a step closer towards the edge of the bed as he straightened out the tie in his hands.
“You heard ‘em, pretty boy. Lemme see those hands.”
Spencer let out a whine of protest, turning his head to look at Hotch with a pleading expression, but Hotch gave a firm shake of his head while slipping his jacket off of his broad shoulders and down his arms. 
“You follow the rules, you get what you want. You act like a brat, you get treated like one. Next time, you open the door when I tell you to. Give Morgan your hands.”
While Derek slipped the fabric around Spencer’s wrists in an intricate labyrinth to bind them together and tied them to the headboard with Hotch’s tie, Hotch took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt. You watched over your shoulder as Derek expertly weaved the tie around Spencer’s wrists with a soft pout on your lips.
“Don’t think I forgot about you.”
Before you had a moment to process the sound of Hotch unbuckling his belt, he grabbed your hips and twisted your body around to face Spencer, and just as quickly pulled your arms behind your back. Grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, Hotch slipped the leather of his belt around them to secure your wrists together tightly. Your lips parted in surprise while you gazed down at Spencer below you. His arms were raised above his head, wrists crossed one over the other and bound to the headboard by Hotch’s black tie, the pupils of his eyes blown so wide they nearly obscured the hazel ring of his irises.
Your eyes fell to the sight of his hard cock, fully erect and standing proud to attention, the swollen tip a deep shade of rose and glossed over with weeping arousal. You could see the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as you noticed him very tenuously flexing his hips upwards against nothing in search of friction. 
“He looks pretty like this, doesn’t he?”
Hotch whispered lowly in your ear, the warmth of his breath against your delicate skin causing you to shudder in response and arch your back subtly. 
“Yes.”
“Tell him.”
Staring down directly into Spencer’s eyes, a soft whimper caught in your throat while a fresh tide of arousal leaked between your thighs.
“You look so pretty like this, Spence.”
Hotch’s rough hands firmly gripped onto your hips as he pressed his bare chest flush against your back. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back, and you instinctively pushed your ass back against him which caused him to dig his blunt nails into your soft flesh.
“Behave.”
Hotch quietly hissed between clenched teeth. Brushing your hair off your bare shoulder, he nuzzled his nose against the column of your neck and took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down roughly before gliding his tongue along the shell of your ear. A quiet shuddering breath slipped past your lips, and you could feel Hotch grin against your neck.
“Now, listen closely. I want you to ride Spencer while I fuck you from behind, and I want you to open that pretty mouth nice and wide to take Derek’s cock. Understood?”
Derek reached out to cradle your jaw in his large hand, gently tugging your bottom lip down with his thumb as he leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss right beneath your ear, whispering in a sultry voice.
“Think you can handle that, baby girl?”
“She can handle it. She’s a good girl.”
Despite being bound to the bed, Spencer’s voice had a rough and somewhat dominant cadence to it as he spoke matter of factly. All three men shared a knowing look between each other before Hotch smacked his palm against your ass, drawing your attention back to the present with a soft gasp tearing from your lips, reminding you that he expected an answer. Swallowing thickly, you nodded eagerly in a breathless voice.
“Yes.”
Derek arched one of his onyx brows as he slipped his hand down from your jaw down to your throat, giving it a faint squeeze.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir.”
Derek’s lips parted into a dazzling proud grin. He slipped his hand down between your thighs, his index and middle finger experimentally slipping inside your soaked cunt while his thumb teasingly brushed over your sensitive clit. A sharp moan tore from your chest while you clamped your thighs around Derek’s hand, and his dark brown eyes flickered over your shoulder to give Hotch a slight nod of his head.
“Oh she’s more than ready.”
A whimper escaped your lips when Derek retracted his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Hotch lifted you up slightly to move you forward, causing you to straddle Spencer’s hips. Both of you let out a piercing whine as the head of his throbbing cock brushed against your pulsing clit, and as a deep chuckle rumbled in Hotch’s chest, you felt it vibrating against your back.
“Good. Then let’s play.”
Reaching down between you and Spencer, Derek wrapped his hands around the base of Spencer’s hard cock, which had Spencer hissing softly and lightly shifting his hips upwards. As Hotch gripped onto your hips and guided you forward, Derek assisted in aligning your body to help you slowly sink down on Spencer’s cock. Spencer had been watching earnestly, but as soon as your welcoming heat enveloped him completely and he bottomed out inside of you, his head fell back against the pillows as he let out a strangled moan, his jaw going slack and his eyes screwed shut. 
“Oh f-fuck…”
Spencer was by far the most vocal out of the three of them, and it always filled you with a rush of excitement being able to tear such alluring noises from his pretty mouth.
Giving you only a few seconds to adjust, Hotch placed his palm between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, causing you to lean over Spencer completely while Derek moved your hair away from your face. The only reason you hadn’t fallen over was because Hotch had a tight hold on the belt that was bound around your wrists, keeping you suspended in the exact position he wanted you in. Spitting into his palm, Hotch used his saliva as a lubricant to coat the length of his cock as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly to make you arch your back and align your ass further up into the air.
“Take a deep breath for me, baby.”
Sucking in a sharp inhale, you dug your nails deeply into the skin of your palms in anticipation. Hotch reached around your body to strum his index and middle finger in quick circles over your clit, ripping a surprised moan from deep within your chest. Thanks to the orgasm Spencer had given you, your body was more relaxed, and your pussy was still slick with your release which made it easier for Hotch to join Spencer inside you. When you felt the blunt head of Hotch’s cock nudging against Spencer’s and slowly stretching you out inch by divine inch, your jaw became fully unhinged and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head.
“Ohmygod-”
The voice that echoed from your throat didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. It was depleted of oxygen and came out in such a rush that your own ears had trouble unscrambling the words. The sound of Hotch letting out a guttural moan behind you sounded like thunder booming right in your ears. The serrated sting between your thighs was impossible to ignore as your spongy walls were stretched to accommodate them both, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the succulent fullness that you felt. Hotch continued to stimulate jolts of pleasure by strumming your clit with his index and middle fingers, trying to help your body to relax and adjust to the new and overwhelming intrusion. 
“Shh…there you go. Just breathe, baby girl.”
Derek was lovingly stroking his fingers through your hair while reminding you to perform such a basic subconscious action. As you struggled to suck in deep breaths, Spencer was impatiently thrusting his hips upwards in a slow rhythm, his biceps flexing while he tugged at the restraints on his wrist. Hotch gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you from falling on top of Spencer, his blunt nails leaving crescent shaped indentations on your soft hips. Once he felt the tension evaporate and your muscles loosening, he started to flex his hips forward to match Spencer’s delicate rhythm.
The composition of their conduction had your body swaying to the idle tempo they had silently established. Spencer and Hotch held you securely between their thighs, gliding back and forth over your delicate strings, coaxing legato notes of pleasure from your lips. 
Once Derek could see that you were completely relaxed and ready for more, he moved in closer and brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, a silent signal you instantly obeyed by parting your lips eagerly. A deep sigh of appreciation sounded from Derek’s chest when he slowly slipped his cock past your lips, and he gently traced his thumb along your cheekbone while you moaned at the feeling of his velvet weight caressing your tongue. 
This was the first time you had ever taken all three of them at once like this, and it was almost entirely too overwhelming. Every single one of your senses was overstimulated. 
Despite the three of them wearing starkly unique colognes, it was impossible to discern which smell belonged to who. Each of their scents perfectly mixed in with your own, creating one indistinguishable fragrance that enveloped you entirely and left you feeling intoxicated and light headed. Your skin was overheated already from the intensity of the moment, but also from the warmth that radiated naturally from each one of them; Hotch’s chest flush against your back, Derek’s palms caressing your cheeks, and Spencer’s thighs lightly smacking against your own. 
Even though your heart was pounding in your ears to the point of being deafening, you could hear the heavenly noises escaping each of them. Spencer was whimpering beneath you, begging for you to ride him harder. Derek was panting breathlessly above you, whispering softly how good you felt. Hotch was letting out deep growls and grunts as he moved behind you, demanding lowly in your ear that you take everything he was giving you.
The salty tang of Derek’s leaking arousal coated your tongue, but you could also still taste the roasted blonde espresso from Spencer’s lips and the fresh wintergreen mint that lingered on Hotch’s tongue. The pleasure was getting to be too much, and you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open. You weren’t even on the brink of another orgasm yet, but there was already a firework show happening behind your eyelids. 
Something about this moment was so incredibly perfect, like this was where you all belonged. 
Together.
This wasn’t just about sex. It never had been. A piece of you had always belonged to each of them, and vice versa, ever since that first night in Vegas. There was just something about the four of you together that couldn’t be explained, but you all felt it every time you were with each other like this.
A single reaction from one of you set off a chain reaction for the rest of you. Hotch started to snap his hips in more powerful and precise thrusts, causing you to grind down harder on Spencer’s cock, and the vibrations of you moaning around Derek’s cock caused his own rhythm to become sloppy and falter when he began to fuck your face. 
The air in the hotel room was thick with heat and sweat like a sauna, and a cacophony of intermingled moans and grunts of satisfaction grew louder and louder the closer you all got to reaching a peak as grand as Everest. The second one of you jumped off the top to free fall, the rest of you would follow.
Spencer was the first to break. He was so far gone he couldn’t even get a warning out, but the second he released inside of you with a loud shout of your name, his spasming hips caused his pubic bone to bump against your clit repeatedly just right to set off your own orgasm. Hotch was fucking you relentlessly from behind as he chased his own high, and the contraction of your walls combined with the flood of yours and Spencer’s release made him double over as he grunted loudly, resting his forehead against your middle back while pumping his seed deeper and deeper within you. Derek was the last to fall apart. He let his head fall back while closing his eyes, his beautiful features twisted up in pure ecstasy as he let out a sensual moan while spilling down your throat.
The four of you were stuck together in a sweaty pile on the bed and no one wanted to move. Derek slowly slipped his softened cock from your lips so you could gasp for air, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair to help you calm down. Hotch did his best to carefully pull out, but the sudden movement had you crying out and tensing up. Hotch peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder blades, shushing you quietly while removing the leather restraint of his belt from your wrists and massaging them gently. Without him holding you up by your hips, you collapsed face first into Spencer’s chest.
When Derek freed Spencer’s wrists from the headboard, Spencer immediately wrapped his arms securely around your trembling frame and cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t dare move, letting himself soften inside of you as he held you there, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss and delicately carding his fingers through your hair.
Each one of you were panting hard, trying to regain your bearings from such an intense experience, but they had catapulted you so far up into the clouds, you weren’t sure you could ever make it down. It felt as if you had stuck your finger into an outlet, sending an intense shock throughout your entire body, the lingering electricity still crackling with the faintest jolts of motion. Their voices were distant and muffled, like your head was underwater, and you couldn’t focus on anything except the blackness that pulled over the entire horizon behind your eyelids.
Moments later, something cold and wet was pressed against the back of your neck, causing a shiver to spread throughout your body. When your eyes lazily fluttered open, you were met with the dim light of the hotel room, and as you slowly lifted your head, Spencer began to come into focus in front of you. He was laying back against the pillows watching you, holding a washcloth soaked in cold water against the back of your neck while still slipping his fingers through your hair with his other hand. He gently wiped the washcloth over both of your heated cheeks and flashed you a dopey grin.
“Welcome back to Earth, pretty girl.”
A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you looked at him with a tired smile, humming softly while nuzzling into the warmth of his body as you hugged him. “Hi.”
Hearing the sweet and sleepy mumble from your lips, Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Hotch and Morgan went to grab us some dinner. They’ll be back in a bit. How are you feeling?”
“Sticky.”
Spencer erupted in laughter at the adorable pout on your lips, nodding as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.
“There were a lot of bodily fluids being exchanged.”
“Okay, it sounds gross when you say it like that.”
“Is ‘you did have three guys come inside you at once’ better?”
Scrunching up your nose, you weakly lifted your hand to press your index finger against Spencer’s soft lips with a quiet laugh.
“Please shut up.”
Spencer chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your finger, tossing the wet washcloth onto the nightstand by the bed.
“Fine. How about a shower?”
“Too much standing.”
“A bath?”
Pretending to think it over, you eventually let out a soft exhale while gazing into Spencer’s hazel eyes with a teasing grin.
“Spencer Reid, you’re a genius.”
The edge of Spencer’s lips tugged upwards into a playful smirk, and he rolled his eyes at your lame joke. He moved to sit up, slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and his other around your waist so he could lift you up into his embrace to carry you towards the bathroom.
“So I’ve been told.”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejloveb0t @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @viscade @starsm00n @kenseverything @storiesofsvu @sabage101 @spiritofthewriter  @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek @avencol
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montereybayaquarium · 47 minutes
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Remembering Rosa the sea otter
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Hello Aquarium family. It’s with great sadness that we share that our beloved sea otter Rosa passed away today. At 24 years old, Rosa was the oldest resident otter at the Aquarium and one of our most experienced surrogate moms, having raised 15 stranded sea otter pups in her time with us. 
While Rosa spent the last few months behind the scenes getting extra special care from our staff, she was the matriarch of the Sea Otters exhibit. Beloved and cherished by millions of visitors and fans of the live Sea Otter Cam, she was instantly recognizable thanks to her blonde head (eclipsed only by Ivy as our most grizzled of kelp grizzlies) and her signature head-all-the-way-back swimming style.
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“Rosa was one of our most playful sea otters, and even at 24 years old, she would still be seen frolicking and wrestling with the younger otters when she instigated it,” said Melanie Oerter, curator of mammals. “Rosa was usually found sleeping against the window while on exhibit with her chin tucked tight into her chest and her tail swishing back and forth.”
After being found stranded as a four-week-old pup in September 1999, Rosa became part of the Aquarium family before our sea otter surrogacy program even took shape. Our Sea Otter Program staff raised her by hand for nearly seven months before releasing her to the wild. 
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Rosa eventually returned to the Aquarium once again in March 2002 when she didn’t take to life outside of human care, and she immediately became a fixture in the formative years of our sea otter surrogacy program as a caring adoptive mother for rescued pups destined for wild release.
She was a delight to work with, though she certainly had her expectations of our staff according to the many Sea Otter Mammalogists who trained (were trained by?) Rosa over the years. 
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"Rosa was an incredibly smart otter! Generally calm and patient with the staff. However, she could be defiant at times and there would be no convincing her to do something she did not want to do," said Oerter. "She would often just look at us or swim away. I believe she was the one who was really training us all of these years. I certainly learned a lot from working with such an incredible otter. It has been a privilege and to say we will miss her is understated."
Rosa relaxed into retirement from surrogacy in 2019, acting as a companion and cornerstone in the ever-changing raft of otters in our care. 
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Wild female sea otters live between 15 and 20 years, and reaching the age of 24 is a testament to the exceptional care Rosa received throughout her life from our Veterinary and Animal Care teams. In recent years, she began showing signs of age-related health concerns.  In the last few weeks, her health had been deteriorating. After an exam, the veterinary and animal care teams made the difficult choice to humanely euthanize Rosa because those health conditions were compromising her quality of life. She passed away peacefully, surrounded by her caretakers.
Rosa’s legacy lives on both at the Aquarium with our other resident sea otters Kit, Selka, Ivy, and Ruby, and in the wild, where sea otter pups she raised continue to raise pups of their own, contributing to the recovery of their species and their ecosystems along the California coast. 
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Rosa was an inspiration to millions as a charismatic ambassador for her threatened species while playing a leading role in the story of sea otter recovery from near-extinction during the fur trade. Rosa will be greatly missed by all of us who got to know her over the years.
To celebrate Rosa’s long life, please feel free to share photos and stories of your encounters with Rosa at the Aquarium in the comment section on this post, in her memory and for the staff and volunteers grieving her loss. Thank you all for being such a big part of Rosa’s life. 🦦♥️
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trappolia · 1 month
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FINGERS TWISTED BEHIND MY BACK (DON'T LET IT BE YOU I LACK) ── aventurine x gn!reader, 862
aventurine hates fighting with you.
he does not even remember it—not clearly, at least. through the memories mudded by the buzz of soulglad and whatever alcoholic beverages he'd guzzled down the night before, the exact expression of your face when he stumbled back into your hotel room is a blur (a pretty blur, he is quite sure, though no doubt a disappointed one) and the sentences you'd spat out at him were jumbled into words that grate in his eardrums when he tries to recall what exactly was said. aventurine tries to echo it to himself, but even the incoherence sounds bitter on his tongue, and all that comes out an indistinct, asthmatic gasp that he's quite sure is some sort of equivalent of his heart aching. or breaking. somewhere in between, perhaps.
he rolls over in your bed, damp from the shower and tears. aventurine is thankful veritas hasn't stormed in to nag at him; he would not be able to stomach being seen like this by anyone else but you: his sweet safe haven, his little eden. you've gone now, stormed off somewhere to cool off. aventurine leaves you be (even if he spent the first two hours alone relentlessly spamming your phone with messages, pleas to come back and return) but he is still alone.
the thought occurred to him somewhere between hour three and hour five, that you'd never come back. aventurine doesn't let it linger. his stomach roils, mouth tasting of bitter alcohol and sweet dreams where you are still there and he'd never upset you.
the hours he spends there without you are hellish, a parody of a bleak, grief-stricken painting of some woman whose husband has gone out to fight in an intergalactic war—draped over the bed, numb and miserable to everything but the thought of you he has to conjure every now and then to keep himself sane. the air is cold and never seems to adjust, even though the reverie's rooms are specifically designed to tailor to the guest's tastes. they clearly did not consider the factor that is a hopeless, lovesick man suffering from withdrawal.
the door creaks open.
aventurine darts up in his your bed, instantly whipping myself up into such a nervous, edgy frenzy that he almost forgets how to breathe. his lungs shudder, the cogs in his brain turning the wrong way, and nothing is working fast enough, right enough as he stumbles to his feet, nearly tripping over the carpet as he finds you toeing off your shoes at the door, so pretty it hurts.
"welcome home," aventurine manages to choke out, still tripped-out and dizzy, heart pounding loud in his fingertips and ears. he watches you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his own for the first time in hours that feel like centuries, and the burden on his lungs alleviates—just a little bit.
"…aventurine," you sigh in this throaty, broken voice that cuts right at his chest. he winces as if he's been struck, eyes flitting to the dizzying pattern of the carpet in effort to hide the glossiness of his irises.
he hears your feet padding across the room to him, the footfalls soft and slow and not at all violent, though he cannot help but fear. there can always be a finality to the softest, gentlest of mercies. not that aventurine has ever experienced it before, but he knows it is possible with you: you who holds his heart in your hands, and you may very well tear it apart if you so wished.
aventurine will let you, if that is what you want.
but instead he swallows, too loudly; finds his fingers instinctively twisting behind his back. "are you going?"
"i just arrived," you whisper, endlessly gentle, endlessly soft—forgiving.
"i know," his voice breaks, and you reach out to touch him—palm against cheek, thumb brushing over the slope of his cheekbone. something cold and damp trails over the flesh of his face, fair marble streaked with a single rivulet of a tear. he does not tell you why he wants to cry. you know anyway.
aventurine thinks pretending would be easier with you, but here in this room, at the end of the day when everyone else has escaped into their own dreamscape, he is tired of saccharine sweet lies, the twisting webs that he pulls around without even understanding the final result it will conjure. it is easier, he thinks, to let you keep his heart and do with it as you wish—and aventurine can only hope that you will be merciful.
are you going? the second set of three words, that single question that he truly wants to ask is caught in his throat, because you may hold aventurine's heart in your palms, but if you will not use your own bloody fingers to pry it open, he must do it for you—and he can't. not for this, at least.
but you know anyway. of course you do.
will you stay?
"i'm right here," you murmur, sweet and godly against his lips, swallowing the sob that he almost lets out. "i'm staying right here."
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© trappolia 2024
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perlelune · 6 months
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iv.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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The warmth of the sun caresses  your eyelids as they quake open. You groan, stirring under the sheets. But instantly, you freeze. Pain cascades through your body. A soreness starting at the apex of your thighs and radiating through your limbs has you struggling to move.
Still, you do it, pushing past the weird feeling embedded in your flesh. 
Your brows collide as you attempt to remember. 
Where are you? How did you get here?
The damask walls are unfamiliar and the gigantic bed even more so. You comb through your memories but nothing surfaces, a violent headache assailing your senses whenever you think too hard. You squint at light pouring through the half-drawn velvet curtains. You peel off the heavy blanket, gaze traveling downward. Ice spreads through your veins. 
You’re shocked to find yourself stark naked, skin speckled with darkening bruises. Even worse, a tiny crimson spot stains the white sheet covering the mattress. You shudder. 
Your breaths start to quicken. Quivering, you grip the sheet, twisting it between your fingers as disbelief rocks through your core. The blood on it seems to enlarge, painting your whole vision red.
As you inspect the room, noticing the state of the rumpled bedding and your clothes lying in a heap near the bed, denial clashes with the blatant truth. 
It can’t be. Yet all the evidence is staring right at you. 
You start to hyperventilate. 
The door cracks open and your head jerks to the side. Coriolanus’ towering frame fills the doorway. There’s a silver tray in his hands and the smell of coffee and fresh toast rise from it.
You take in his tousled blonde locks and his half-unbuttoned blouse. He looks more disheveled than you’ve ever seen him. A gentle smile hovers on his lips. But, as he registers your distressed state, it vanishes. He rushes to you, placing the tray on the mahogany nightstand near the bed.
Face growing hot, you tug the blanket so it conceals your nakedness.
“Hey, take it easy, princess,” he whispers, brows knitting as his hands reach your cheeks to cup them.
Chest rising and falling at a fast pace, you stutter, “C-Coryo, what happened last night?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Concern sparkles in his cobalt orbs, pellucid as crystal in the morning light.
He caresses your face and gingerly says, “It was…a bit of a wild night.”
You scowl at his response. It’s not what you’re asking and he knows it. 
You lick your lips, gathering the tiny embers of courage sizzling within you.
You don’t want to ask what you’re about to ask. Hell, you might not even want to know. But you have to. You have to because there’s a pit of discomfort and confusion within you and it’s swelling by the second.
You take a deep breath and inquire, “Why am I naked? Why…Why is there blood on the sheets?”
His frown accentuates.
“Princess…”
You nudge his hands away from your face as your patience dissolves.
“Tell me,” you emphasize.
His jaw ticks at your reaction. He then releases a deep sigh.
“You drank a bit too much. We both did.”
A sinking feeling blooms in your stomach. Your eyes grow saucer-wide as the words are snatched from your tongue.
You’re statue-still as Coriolanus’ fingertips wander over your arm, stroking up and down lightly. 
“You were having so much fun, genuine fun.” His voice softens. “It was the first time in a long time I saw you smiling this much.” He pauses, holding your gaze. “And I suppose…there were budding feelings and we got carried away.” Your jaw drops. “You told me you needed me. And I had quite a few drinks myself.” He chuckles but it’s bereft of humor. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t remember all of it either, just you begging for me and screaming my name.”
Warmth gathers in your cheeks. 
“God. You and I, we…”
Coriolanus nods. “Yes.”
Tears well up in your eyes. Coriolanus wipes each of them, uttering tenderly, “I know you didn’t want it to happen that way, but at least it was with me, right?”
You’re at a loss for words. Sure, it’s better for it to be Coryo than a stranger…at least in some way. But as naive and old-fashioned as it is, you wanted to save yourself for your first love, for your future husband. You looked forward to your first experience being one of absolute love and trust…one you actually could cherish and, most crucially, remember. 
Now it’s forever ruined. 
Your heart plummets.
“I need to go home. I need to-” Clutching the sheet against your bare form, you try to climb off the bed. 
Coriolanus seizes your shoulders, easily cinching you to your spot.
You glower at him, puzzled and frustrated. 
Still holding your shoulders, he explains, “Like this, princess? Are you sure that this is a good idea?” His soft inflection drips concern. He bends closer to you. “Your parents, William…What would they think?”
This gives you pause.
You lower your head, pondering his words.
Dread mounts within you as you realize how right he is. You could spin falsehoods to your parents until you’re blue in the face but they’ll know something is off the second they lay their eyes on you. Especially your mom.
One look at you and she’ll guess exactly what occurred. Or some of it at least.
It’s been like this since you were brought into their home as a little girl.
Nothing ever gets past Demetria Plinth’s keen eye.
Then who knows what they might ask you to do to preserve your honor and dignity? 
The thought makes your insides twist in knots.
You tossed away your virtue out of wedlock, you betrayed William, you besmirched your family name. You’re a disgrace.
There aren’t a million options in cases such as yours, and it’s a scenario you’d like to avoid. 
It guts you to imagine not only ruining your life, but Coriolanus’ as well. All because of one stupid drunken mistake. 
Besides, while it might be foolish and presumptuous in your current predicament, you still want to marry William. He’s the man of your dreams. You suppose it’s just a matter of whether or not he’ll even want you now.
Folding your knees, you tuck them against your chest and wrap your arms around your ankles. Tears stream down your face as you quaver, “I don’t know what to do.”
Silence hangs in the air as you weep, Coriolanus rubbing your shoulder in quiet support.
After a while, he suggests, “You could come to my place.”
Your head snaps up.
“What?”
His thumb presses along your collarbone.
“Just for a few days. It’ll give you time to rest, get yourself together.”
“No, Coryo, I can’t ask you…” You shake your head, guilt clawing at your heart. “I’m horrible and I should-”
“You’re far from horrible,” he interrupts, placing his long fingers on the side of your face. “But you need a little time, right?”
You give a shaky nod, despising yourself. You’re a coward. Instead of facing your actions and their consequences, you’re running away, hiding. 
“Just let me handle everything, princess.” His knuckles sweep over your cheek, collecting more fresh tears. “I’ll take care of it and it’ll be like none of it ever happened.”
“W-Where are we right now?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the storm of anguish raging inside you.
“Oh, this is one of the many spare rooms of the Dovecote estate,” he replies casually, though you discern a hint of something. Disdain, perhaps? 
“Clemensia…”
“I talked to her,” he reassures. “Don’t worry, she won’t tell a soul.”
You can’t imagine Clemensia doing anything to help you but you suppose, for Coryo, she would.
“She also made sure to quell any rumors before they can start.”
Your forehead creases. “Rumors?”
He gives your hair absent strokes as he sighs. “People know how close we are, princess.” Your heart skips a beat. He angles your chin upward, his gaze confident. “Don’t you worry, okay? I’ll take care of you. All you need to do is trust me.”
You acquiesce and it elicits a broad, tight-lipped smile from him.
He rises from the bed.
“How about you grab a bite?” he offers, bending to graze his lips over your forehead. “The car will be here in less than an hour.”
A car, already? Part of you is astounded by his swiftness but your distress overtakes everything else. You should count your blessings that no one else knows about last night.
You take perfunctory bites of the toast on the tray and sip a few gulps of the tepid coffee.
Once more, you try to remember. You wince when another throbbing headache hits you. 
All you can see are Coriolanus’ bright blue eyes and his smile. Nothing else emerges. 
So, you give it a rest. Maybe in time, everything will come back to you. 
For now, you just need to trust your friend. 
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You shroud yourself in silence the entire drive to Coriolanus’ home. He keeps smiling at you from the seat near yours and you return it meekly. While you know it’s not his fault, you find it nearly impossible to meet his gaze, an uncomfortable feeling pitting in your stomach whenever you do. Anxiety bounces in your gut when the Corso comes into view. 
You haven’t been here very often, though your dad often spoke of moving here, where most of Panem’s elite resides. The thought of leaving your childhood home doesn’t thrill you but you’re keenly aware of what the Corso represents in Strabo’s eyes. The sign that the Plinth family made it. And to add this kind of feather in his cap, your father would move you and your mother to a smaller place in a heartbeat. You know he is only waiting for the paperwork to be signed.
It’s something you’ve tried to forget as of late. And now you’re cruelly reminded of it.
The car comes to a stop in front of an antique apartment building. Your eyes wander above the window. Piles of rubble still sit amidst the place, a reminder of the Dark Days perhaps.
Coriolanus opens your door and offers you his hand. You accept it and stagger out of the car.
He removes his coat and throws it on your shoulders, swaddling your shivering frame. You’re thankful. You’re still wearing the same red dress from the night before and it hardly shields you from the cold. 
You can’t help but soak in every detail as you and Coryo take the elevator to the penthouse. You sometimes wondered how the wealthiest in Panem lived. Your parent’s house is nice but this is different. Every inch of the building from floor to ceiling screams luxury.
As soon as you’ve crossed the doorstep of the penthouse, slender arms wrap you in a warm hug.
Tigris’ eyes glimmer as they rest on you.
“Coryo said you’re going to stay with us for a while,” she chimes. “How wonderful.”
“Only for a day or two,” you correct.
She squeezes your hands. “Then we’ll have to make the best of it.”
An old woman appears from an adjacent room. She strolls to you, a small smile etched on her lips. Uttering no word, she presses a white rose between your hands. You examine it. It looks exactly like the ones Coriolanus sometimes wears on his breast pocket. 
“Is this your grandma?” you whisper as the old woman wanders off, humming a tune you vaguely recognize as Panem’s anthem.
Tigris’ lips curl skywards. “Yes, but we call her grandma’am.” She giggles. “It’s much more distinguished.” Sadness glistens in her amber gaze. “She isn’t…all the way here these days, but she still tends to her roses.”
Coriolanus wedges himself between the two of you.
“She’s tired, Tigris. You have to let her rest,” he informs.
“Of course. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Promise?”
You give a weary smile. “Promise.”
“I’m so very glad you’re here,” she says, hugging you again before taking her leave.
Coriolanus guides you through the apartment, his hand curled around the small of your back.
“I’ll show you to your room.”
He takes you to an opulent room with a massive bed in the middle. 
“I had a bath drawn for you,” he announces.
Your eyes round as you note the copper clawfoot tub sitting near the bed. Stunned, you approach it. Your fingers drag along the edge of the tub.
Flower petals float atop the steaming water. 
“I’ll leave you to it, princess.” He drops a quick peck on your forehead before disappearing.
You lock the door as soon as he leaves and peel the crimson dress off your body. You’ve half a mind to destroy it once you return home. Your mother would probably be appalled at that considering its price…but you can’t see yourself wearing it ever again.
The water’s burning hot when you plop inside the tub. You welcome it.
You bring your knees to your chest as you stare at the rose petals. You wish your worries could melt away in the water the way dirt and grime can.
But no such luck. So you’re left contemplating the tiny ripples form above the surface as you swallow yet another surge of tears threatening to spill.
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A soft high-pitched voice draws you back to consciousness. Groggily, you sit up in the bed.
Tigris’ beaming face greets you.
“Are you okay? You slept past dinner. Coryo said not to disturb you.”
You look around.
Stars pepper the night sky outside the stained glass windows. You can’t believe you took such a long nap. You vaguely remember burying yourself between the sheets after your bath. You didn’t want to think, or even be awake. You wished for oblivion. So you let sleep ensnare you as soon as your head hit the pillows.
Your features scrunch. Your memory’s still foggy, but the headaches have abated at least.
“The maid can warm you a plate if you like,” Tigris offers.
You shake your head. You have no appetite.
“I just hate that I overslept.”
Sympathy dawns on the young woman’s face.
“Your body must have needed it. Coryo said you guys partied pretty hard last night?”
Your heart wrenches. But you try not to let anything show on your face, giving a placid nod.
“Besides, you don’t have anywhere to be, do you?” she inquires.
Your stomach sinks. You were supposed to meet with William today, but you can’t imagine seeing him in your current state. 
“No, I don’t,” you lie.
Your gaze meanders about the room. Surprise ripples through you at the wooden trunk you detect in a corner of the room by the wardrobe.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, Coryo had your things brought over,” Tigris replies casually.
You gasp. “But I won’t be staying long. He shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”
“He said he wants you to be as comfortable as possible.”
A deep, familiar voice echoes in the room. “She’s right. After all, our home is your home, princess.”
Your eyes find Coriolanus'. His tall frame fills the door. He looks like his usual self now, his blond locks neatly slicked back and his outfit impeccable.
Guilt creeps inside you following his statement.
“I should warn my parents,” you muse aloud as you rise from the bed. 
Coriolanus shares a look with his cousin.
“Tigris, can you give us a moment?”
She nods before heading for the door.
You try to do the same, panic swelling inside you, but Coriolanus blocks your way as he stands before the door. He towers over you with ease, hands clasped at his back as he leans against the doorjamb. 
You give him a puzzled look.
“I already sent them a letter,” he reveals.
“Oh,” you mumble.
“I just told them you’re with us and you’re fine.” He smiles. “It’s the least I could do.”
“The least?” you scoff. “You’ve already done so much for me, Coryo.”
“Like I said, I don’t want you to worry about a thing.”
He licks his lips, scrutinizing you a while before continuing, “You’re not just a guest. You’re family. You can stay for as long as necessary.”
This makes tears spring to your eyes. You dip your head but his digits sneak below your chin, tilting it upward so your gazes meet.
“What’s wrong?”
Your voice comes out a watery croak.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to me,” you sob, tears skipping down your face freely now.
You erected a fence around your emotions and now the dam is shattering.
He slants his head. “Why not?”
You don’t reply, a flood of tears blurring your vision. You grow overwhelmed, unable to utter a word as strangled sobs spill from your throat.
Coriolanus’ arms coil around your frame. He cradles the back of your head, tucking it against his chest.
His dulcet timbre breezes over the top of your head.
“It’s okay, princess. You’re safe. You’re always safe with me,” he whispers, letting your tears drench his blouse.
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hotchscvm · 10 months
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dildo shopping
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: aaron catches you dildo shopping.
word count: 1k
warnings: sex toys, emily being a little shit
Telling Emily about your less-than-adequate one-night stand had been a mistake. After being short with everyone for the whole day, she finally confronted you about the change in attitude and you confessed the guy you brought home the night before had gotten off without returning the favor.
She had asked when was your last orgasm and you had to think about it before telling her it had been a while. With that reply, she dragged you to the closest mall. That's how you ended up in front of a Spencer's.
You raised an eyebrow at Emily, sighing loudly as you reluctantly followed her inside. "Seriously, Em? I think I could've just bought a vibrator online or something."
"That could take days to come and you clearly need this now." Emily leads you to the back section, giving you a look. "Don't argue with me, you yelled at Rossi after he got your coffee order wrong today."
"I literally have no memory of that," you replied, trying to think if that situation had happened. "I didn't even drink coffee today."
Emily holds up an "I love Milfs" t-shirt briefly. "Because you threw it in the garbage after cussing him out in Italian. Rossi teaching you Italian really came back to bite his ass today."
"Whatever," you said, a twinge of guilt crawling into your heart. You shrugged it off knowing he'd understand and you made a mental note to get him his favorite bottle of wine to make up for it.
As you entered the back, you looked through all the dildos and vibrators lined up against the wall. Emily held up a purple dildo, reading through the description while you looked at the unimpressive dildo and vibrator wall decor, none really vibing with you.
"This one says it vibrates and is supposed to feel realistic," she mumbles, eyes narrowing as she reads through the instructions. "Six inches though, I think you can take more than that right?"
You giggled, unable to hold in a laugh. "I don't really want to think about Barney's small dick vibrating in my cunt when I want to cum, Em. Or Thanos for that matter."
She makes a face, putting the purple vibrating dildo back. "What a strange image. Thanks for ruining Barney for me."
Chuckling, you check out the lingerie a nearby mannequin is wearing. It's black and lacy, and while it holds up the titties, it's see-through and the panties are crotchless. Taking off its panties, you hold it up to your body. "Hey, this is cute isn't it?"
"Very cute, you should get it," Emily responds, looking through the hundred dildo options.
"Yes, you should."
You freeze, your ears instantly knowing who that voice belonged to. Emily looks behind you without turning her head, holding back a laugh at your clear mortification. A second passes and you turn around to see Aaron fucking Hotchner, your stoic boss and friend standing in front of you, looking at the lingerie you had pressed up against you.
You can't help but laugh awkwardly. "Hotch? What're you doing here?"
He's amused and you can tell because he's eyes are twinkling and the corner of his lips are twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "I was picking something up for Jessica at Bath and Body Works when I saw you guys and wanted to say ... hi.”
"Wonderful." you deadpanned, placing the crotchless panties back on top of the mannequin's head.
Before either of you could say anything else, Emily joins in, a smile so smug and big it would've been hard to miss from space. "I'm going to look at that section of toys. Maybe you'll like a blue one instead so you can imagine it's Jake Sully instead."
She's too far away when you think about slapping her, already moving towards the side section of even more vibrators and dildos, a few naughty shirts display that separated you and Hotch from her. After glaring a hole into the back of her head, you turned back to Hotch, wanting nothing more than to melt on the floor and die.
"I-" you start, unable to finish; just like the night before.
He begins to look through the wall of sex toys, brows furrowing at the choices. Your cheeks redden when he picks up the infamous rose vibrator momentarily before placing it back down. It looked so tiny in his big hands and you wanted nothing more than to have his big hands in you. "What kind of toys do you like?"
It takes you a second to comprehend his question, still stuck on him seeing you shopping for things a boss should never know about his employees. "Um, whatever, really. I haven't really had one since college."
Hotch nods as if you were talking about a case and not about orgasming on a fucking sex toy. "I see."
You watch in silence as he studies the choices again, fully concentrated. He picks up a packaged dildo, regular colored, and holds it up to inspect it. You watch him eye the silicone dick before placing it back and picking up an identical one, only this one is thicker and wider.
"So ... you ever try one of these before with someone?" you asked, unable to deal with the silence but now wishing you hadn't spoken after that horrible sentence.
Thankfully, he chuckles, eyes not straying from the description on the packaging. "No, I haven't. I never really did have the time or someone who was willing to try something like this out."
"Ahh," you reply like a fucking idiot.
After another few moments of inspecting the dildo, he hands it to you with a smile. You take it instinctively, confused and gobsmacked at the gesture. His eyes are twinkling with amusement and something else you can't place. "That one should be the closest."
It’s about eight inches long, quite thick and has veins decorating the length. The head of it is big and you nearly salivate at the thought of getting off to it tonight.
"The closest to what?"
Hotch just grins in return and starts to turn away and walk out. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun.”
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mydear-corinthian · 2 months
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Attention || Thomas Shelby x reader
Synopsis: You're a jazz singer and you were invited to Tommy's brother's wedding and you caught his attention Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk Notes: Rushed Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.
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SMUT AHEAD
The newlywed couple, John and Esme Shelby, and their guests gathered on the dance floor to dance while you sang in front of the audience. Swaying your hips to the song's melody, your hands clutched the metallic microphone and locked eyes with the audience.
You had previously attended countless weddings, so being asked to one was not a new experience for you. However, receiving an invitation from the prominent Shelby family? That was an altogether unusual situation, laced with both thrill and fear. You were thoroughly familiar with the Shelby family's reputation, understanding all aspects of their business transactions, the shady realm of their crimes, and the mysterious personas that disguised each member of the family in mystery.
While singing, you noticed that all the Shelby siblings were on the dance floor except for one: Thomas Shelby. He was alone on a big round table, a glass of whiskey in front of him while his lips were decorated by his cigarette. You didn't even noticed that he was looking at you, his ocean-like eyes locking to yours. 
The jazz band had finally finished their performance, and while your bandmates mingled around the large round table, chatting and enjoying drinks, you found yourself lingering behind the stage, separated from them. Memories of the way the gangster had looked at you replayed in your mind, causing a flutter of nerves to dance in your stomach. Butterflies swirled within you, making it impossible to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in.
Exhaling, you tried to forget his eyes in your mind as you took your metallic cigarette case, getting one of the cancerous stick before putting the case back on your black beaded purse. You flicked the lighter numerous times until you gave up. Groaning in annoyance, you threw the non-working lighter away. 
"Here," a deep voice echoed in your ears. "You can use this." An arm extended towards you, a lighter in hand. You stared at whoever it was, and when your gaze met the man's, your eyes widened. "Oh, Mr. Shelby. I - Thank you," you said, accepting the furious man's offer and successfully lighting your cigarette before returning it to Tommy.
"You were quite impressive up there," he said nonchalantly, flicking his lighter to start his cigarette and joining you. The unexpected praise caused a rush of warmth to flood your cheeks, catching you off guard by his awareness. It was unexpected to receive compliments from someone like him, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and doubt during the discussion.
You continued to share the story of your journey to becoming a well-known jazz vocalist in South Birmingham as an expression of gratitude. Throughout the conversation, he stayed fairly mute, responding only with a nod. Surprising to you, his stillness concealed a strong involvement with your words. As you chatted enthusiastically unconscious of his shifting stance and the intensity of his gaze as it moved from head to toe, it became clear that he was more than just a passive listener; he was intensely intrigued by your story.
You looked at your pearl watch and read the time. It was already midnight, and there were no available cabs for you to book. "Oh, forgive me, Mr. Shelby, but it's getting late, and I really must make my way home," you exclaimed, a note of urgency in your tone as you rapidly searched through your handbag, double-checking to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything.
"Stay here for tonight; there are no cabs available anymore, and I have a spare room for you to stay in," he said almost instantly. The tone of his voice suggests that he still wants you to be with him.
"Are you sure, sir?" he nodded to your question. The two of you hopped into his car, Tommy drove going to his house with you. 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When you finally arrived at his house near the reception, he opened the door and invited you inside. The house wasn't particularly large or small; floral wallpaper was used everywhere, and circular picture frames adorned the large fireplace in the living room. As Tommy entered the house, you laid your white fur-like scarf on the chair.
Your heart raced at the sight of him, each beat echoing in the silence of the room. It was as if you were seeing him through new eyes, taking in the intriguing depth of his gaze, the chiseled lines of his attractive face, and the neatly combed hair that framed it all. He projected an effortless charm while wearing his usual suit, sparking a deeper admiration for his natural charisma.
Tommy did the same thing, starring at you -- your physique, your lovely golden dress, the way your white feather hat hung in your hair. His eyes communicated love and longing simply by looking at you. He knew you even before the reception. He knew who you were.
His hands cupped your cheeks as he approached you. You didn't know what was going on, or so you thought. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart fluttered at his moves.
"May I?" he asked quietly, his voice a smooth whisper that sent thrills down your spine. With a gentle nod, you gave him permission, excitement coursing through every fiber of your being. As his lips touched yours, a burst of energy flowed between you, igniting a passionate flame that appeared to swallow everything. Your breath mixed in the intimate space between you, resulting in a heady symphony of longing. Your hands reflexively moved to his neck, fingers threading through the delicate strands of his hair, while his firm grip on your hips drew you in, erasing any barrier between you. The kiss grew into a gloriously wild dance of lips and tongues, each movement a witness to the sheer intensity of your connection. In that moment, buried in the heat of the embrace, you tasted not only each other's lips, but also the burning need that held you together.
Fortunately, the house was empty, leaving just you and Tommy. He brought you to his bedroom, the air heavy with expectancy as the heated session went on. As you lay on the bed, the springs creaked beneath you, adding rhythm to the intensity of your touch. His lips trailed over your neck, leaving a path of kisses that sent thrills down your spine, each touch leaving its mark as you couldn't help but moan his name in pleasure.
"Mr. Shelby .." you moaned as he sucked the sweet spot of your neck, your legs locking his hips. 
"Tommy." he corrected. 
"I know your name, Mr. Shelby," 
"Then moan it." 
He began to undress you, leaving the floor gripped with your gold-colored heels and lengthy dress. Continuing the kiss, your hands moved to his suit, unbuttoning each one quickly.
Your naked bodies were bound together. His thick fingers found your clit and softly stroked it until his speed quickened, causing your back to arch as you gasped his name aloud.
"Fuck, Tommy.." His hands crumpled the sheets, and his lips curled into a smile, content with what he was doing.
"Does that feel good, mhm? Want me to stop?" he teased as his fingers slowed. Your eyes begged with him.
"No--please, keep going!" you cried, shaking your head. He desires his fingers to strike your cunt.
He stopped, causing you to whine. He laughed, noticing the emotion on your face. He positioned himself in front of your wet cunt before entering you. Because of the unexpected movement, you moaned more loudly than usual.
His pace was first steady, allowing you to adjust his length, but it soon increased. The bed creaked with every thrust he made. Your nails drove into his back due to the pleasure he offered you.
"You like that, love? Who owns this cunt?" he demanded, maintaining his violent thrust. Your breast bounces.
"Yours! Oh god - it feels good, Tommy."
Everything you felt was pleasure and joy. Tommy's cock abuses the area, making you burst with ecstasy. Airy groans and moans echoed around the dim room. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he rested his head on.
His arm lifted your legs and pushed them towards your chest, allowing his cock to penetrate deeper and deeper inside you. The sudden change of posture hurt, but it was swiftly replaced with pleasure. Your gut swirled, and your cunt clenched on his cock, implying that you were close.
"Fuck - look at you clenching around my cock. Good girl," Tommy praised, his massive arms gripping your legs.
"Tommy, I'm gonna - gonna cum!"
"Me too, love. Cum on my cock, c'mon," he said. "'m going to fill you up, yeah? You like it? Me cumming inside your precious wet pussy?"
"Yes - yes!" you moaned loudly as you approached your climax. Tommy needed a few more thrusts before he released his seed inside of you. He slowly pulled out, spilling his white creamy load into your battered cunt.
He lay down alongside you, passionately kissing your lips.
"Ah, you're good in bed too, Mr. Shelby."
"You did well with your voice training today, Ms. (Y/n)," he taunted before you both went to bed.
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My triggers are so weird
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tojisun · 7 months
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im giggling thinkin about biker!simon finding out you haven’t ever ridden a bike before and so the first thing he does is tell you to stay put before hopping on his harley and driving away.
you stand there, blinking, still reeling over what happened. you’re quite confused if your date really just left you, before giving up on worrying as you hold onto the hopes that he’d come back. he did say he will but how many of your dates and ex-partners fooled you because, apparently, you’re too “gullible” and it’s just too “funny”?
too fucking many times, that’s what.
you amble towards an empty bench while you wait, fluffing up your skirt and dusting your sweater before fixing your hair. you itch to message your friends, anxious thoughts buzzing underneath your veins, but simon had always been such a gentleman with you. always so caring and pampering. always so honest with his affections. he isn’t like anyone you’ve ever been and so you want to trust him.
and you do. god, you do. because you trust him with your safety. with your heart.
time crawls by but the agonizing drag does end. you didn’t have to wait long, you realize with a giddy heart, as you see simon driving back. his head whips around the park, trying to find you, and you giggle as you stand up, waving your hand above your head to catch his attention.
his helmeted head snaps towards your direction and you smile as the purr of his engine becomes louder, his bike devouring the space between the two of you eagerly.
“hey, sweetheart,” he says as he snaps his visor up, his beautiful eyes crinkled as he smiles at you.
the butterflies in your stomach roar, and you almost choke on the intensity of your happiness as you whisper back, “hey there, big guy.”
simon preens like he loves the nickname and you sear his reaction to your memory, already anticipating the next opportunity where you get to call him that again.
“i‘ve got somethin’ for you,” simon announces before twisting towards the other side of his harley, reaching for something that you couldn’t see. you tilt your head, trying to act cool as you wait.
simon turns back to you with a shy smile tickling his lips, and your eyes instantly flicks towards his hands where he cradled a cute little purple helmet – one of the many things you didn’t expect him to return with.
“is that a bicycle helmet?” you blurt out.
“yeah,” he laughs, a pretty sound. “this is all they have.”
“‘they’?” you finally move close to him as you ask this, taking tentative steps on the gravel.
“the closest bike rental,” simon replies, sounding embarrassed. “you said y’ve never been on a bike and, well, this is a safe environment so i thought, ‘why not?’”
you breathe in sharply, his words curling along the crevices of your heart. “lemme get this straight,” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat. “you heard me say i’ve never been on a bike before so your first reaction was to drive away to find a closest bike rental so you can get me a helmet because you want to give me a safe bike ride?”
“…yeah,” he whispers, hesitant. “i mean, if you don’t want to then that’s oka- are you crying?”
“shut up,” you whimper, hiding your face behind your palms.
you hear him curse, the engine of his bike shutting off, before hearing the way his feet drop on the gravel and march towards you. in a heartbeat, you are pulled in his embrace, with your face pressed on his chest, and you eagerly breathe in the scent of leather and ozone that is stuck on him. he pats your head softly, his palm dragging along your hair as he continues to comfort you.
you sniffle, unable to stop the tears because what the actual fuck.
you have never felt so loved. so adored. so revered.
you chew on your confession, your heart and mind syncing up for once. simon, i-
(later, when you’ve finally calmed down, you will let out a wet giggle and apologize for dampening the mood. simon will just smile at your adorable, tear-swollen face and tell you that you have nothing to apologize for. then, he’ll kiss your forehead before securing your helmet on your head. he’ll tighten the strap around your chin, gently knock on the shell, then pull you onto his bike. you two will spend the rest of the afternoon just making slow and gentle donuts around the park, laughing and chatting.
and then, gritting through the choking staccato of your heartbeat, you will tell simon that you want more than a flurry of dates. that you want something more official. then, you will tell him you love him and simon will buckle before you because,
“me too, sweet girl. i’m so in love with you too.”)
-
(ext.01) (ext.02) (ext.03)
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honkaimethrail · 20 days
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Aventurine dating headcanons (part 1)
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Nsfw under cut!
sfw
Contrary to what a lot of fans believe, I don't believe Aventurine would spend a lot of money frivolously on the person he loves
Forming connections with people, letting them use him as much as he benefits from them, is a talent Aventurine honed and polished as years grew by, letting it come naturally to him. If you were just normal friends, he would willingly hand out thousands of credits to you, simply replying to your surprised expression with a chuckle.
He is well-aware of his power and status as one of the 10 Stonehearts of the IPC, but Aventurine's actual self-worth is in shambles. The first time, you actually do something nice for him out of pure goodwill, you'll immediately recieve a few thousand credits as a "meagre" thanks. He's seen these genuine gestures in movies, but Aventurine cannot bring himself to believe someone would do it for him.
Anywayss, on to the dating part! I hope you're patient because it would take a LOT of time before you're actually close. You will learn about him, gradually, but it will be slow.
Which is why there won't be a difference when you first start dating him, with the exception of your relationship being strictly hidden, Aventurine is a private man after all, and he was already taking a big gamble as it is by dating the person who has his heart.
I personally hc him as someone who's attracted to a person who has the freedom to make their own choices, more of an explorer. Which is why he's more likely to fall for a Nameless! Reader than one of the IPC workers.
One of the easiest ways to get close to him is by texts and calls. The amount of texts you'll recieve will increase two-fold, with your conversations ranging from your work, friends to miniscule details, your habits, his habits, multiple promises on your side to visit different views with him by your side, and silences on his end, before changing the topic. In Aventurine's defense, he gets sentimental at night, you only laugh in return and immediately, Aventurine feels his heart leap in his chest.
Physical affection is alien to him. Aventurine has had experience, no doubt, but none of them felt as real as with you. He's lowkey scared of the person he will become if he comes to reciprocate your touches, or even encourage them,so you'll have to be patient, he's trying his best to accomodate you in his world.
It will take a long time for Aventurine to kiss you but that's fine, because he secretly feels himself bursting with adoration when you intertwine your fingers with his, brush his hair, or trace along the length of his nose with your index finger. He's a goner, he's much more in love than he believed and Aventurine unfortunately knows that.
nsfw
It's not that Aventurine would say NO to you if you imply to do anything sexual, he's had experience of course, but he would blank out during the experience. It would make hin feel even more shitty because he's doing it with you. Memories of his past experiences would swirl in his head and he would become instantly naseous seeing you beneath him. Needless to say, you learned sexual intimacy is something that will take time do it again.
Aventurine views sex as a tool, something that either has to be simply released, or used as a chip in his plan. He loves you, loves you a lot, and the idea of sex between lovers, being much more than two bodies would take a while to settle in his head. His mind would keep alternating between his past exploitative partners, to the current you, feeling all the more disgusted with comparing you to them.
So you both take your time. Make out with each, kiss his face, hands, and reverently tell him things that you would do to him once you have the chance to properly make love again. It will melt Aventurine to bits, but he's also assured that doing it with you will be different.
"It will be amazing. To feel a part of you connected with me, I want to see you make the most wonderful expressions, Kakavasha. I want to see your face when you c-
"I-I get it! You're enjoying this, aren't you? "
When it finally happens, Aventurine is absolutely moved. Sex finally became something that felt comforting and good to him, and he makes sure you know that with how vocal he is (someone posted aventurine moaning on yt and it's... without context it's... Open to misinterpretation.)
I don't headcanon him as having a high sex drive, it's fairly moderate, or maybe higher than average when he's around you but that's about it.
Sexting happens more often than you think. A lot of times you both are unable to be with each other because of work, which is why it's time for Aventurine to whip out a handy tool called a phone to see your face, and in much more needy times, use your voice to gently coax him to orgasm, which he gladly does too in return.
Imo, he's a switch, but a prefers bottoming. Can easily top too but i dont think he would prefer to be a hard dom. That's just not his thing.
After the first time you had sex, Aventurine was honestly quite surprised. At himself. He becomes much more needy at the prospect of being so close, with you, turning putty into your touch. He's easier to turn-on, and slowly it becomes a challenge at times to see who breaks first.
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(To be continued because this was accidentally posted lmao)
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