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runnning-outof-time · 23 hours

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Up Until You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy Shelby realizes that he might just have someone he wants to live for.

Warnings: smoking, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 3698

A/N: boy does it feel good to post a story again! I hope there won’t be as big a gap between this and my next one … I promise I’m getting these requests written! Anon, I hope this is as angsty as you were hoping….the prompt you sent is bolded. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I almost forgot! I wanted to give a shoutout to the lovely Mars @toms-cherry-trees for helping me so much in the planning process of this fic…I don’t think it would have gotten finished if it weren’t for you!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sent Ada Shelby a look that asked 'where is he?' the second the latter opened the door. Ada answered with a head nod to the left, which conveyed the answer of 'he's in there'. A glance over the Shelby woman's shoulder confirmed it - Tommy was sitting at the table in the front room. His back was to the door, so he hadn't noticed that she arrived...yet.

She sent Ada an appreciative smile before she quietly walked into the room, hoping that Tommy wouldn't hear her footsteps. He seemed to be too engrossed in his writing for that to happen though. She stood there for a few moments, carefully peering over his shoulder as he finished the sentence he was writing.

He paused then, and it gave (Y/N) the ability to read the sentence he'd just written:

In the event of my own death, I want the following facts to be known...

Reading those words made her mind go blank. "You're actually going through with it?" she asked without thinking.

The sudden sound of someone's voice made Tommy quickly turn in his chair. He was already on edge with the day's events taking up his mind, so this unexpected visitor had caught him completely off guard. It took a few moments for it to register that (Y/N) was standing in front of him. When it did, he cursed under his breath before letting out a huff.

"When'd you get here, eh?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he placed his hands on his thighs.

"Just now. I couldn't find you at home. The guys hadn't left for the derby though, so I figured you'd be here," she explained her reasoning. "You don't have to go through with this, Tommy," she then circled back, not letting him switch topics.

"I have to," his response cut right to the point. He didn't have time to get into a discussion about it.

"What about the other options you've shared with me? The options that don't include you having to come face to face with this man in order to get the job done," she reminded him of the talks they've had in the past, hoping that doing so would get him to change his mind.

"There's no time for those other options, (Y/N). The derby's today. The plan's been laid out," he wasn't biting.

Silence hung in the air as they stared at each other. (Y/N) was hoping that he'd change his mind. She waited on bated breath, waiting for him to announce that to her. But he stayed silent.

She couldn't wait any longer. "So that's it then?" she asked, incredulousness present in her voice. The fact that he wasn't even trying to entertain a conversation about this was breaking her heart. "You're just going to write your note and practically seal your death with it? And what'll that mean for me?" she was unable to stop herself from getting choked up as she uttered her final question. She didn't want to think about her life without him, but it was staring her dead in the face at the moment.

"The note's just precautionary, love," he attempted to assure her. Her expression didn't change, her brow was now furrowed and it was noticeable that she was biting on her bottom lip; most likely to stop her tears. Tommy finally stood then, coming face to face with her in hopes that his proximity would wash some of her worry away. "I'll be fine," he added in a low voice, blindly searching for her hands so that he could hold them.

"You can't promise that," she responded, her voice coming out as a shaky whisper. It was taking everything she had not to burst out into tears in this moment. She'd always associated his closeness with safety...whenever Tommy was close, (Y/N) knew she could never get hurt. But now his closeness was making her hurt even more.

"It'll be fine," he repeated, squeezing her hands.

"It's really been decided?" she still couldn't accept it.

"It has," he nodded.

(Y/N) sighed at his confirmation. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she pulled her hands from his grasp. She then wrapped her arms tightly around her frame as she turned and took a few steps towards the windows.

"(Y/N)." Her name left Tommy's lips as a breath. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "Come on, love. Look at me," he gently coaxed her. She stood still. "It'll be fine," he tried once more to assure her.

That set her off. She whipped around within a second of hearing his statement. There was now a fire burning in her watery eyes. "Do not say those three words again," she snapped at him, "do not continue to try and reassure me with things that you cannot guarantee will happen. You know how dangerous this plan is, Thomas. Please don't try and act like It isn't. You wouldn't be sat here writing a note for someone to find in the event of your death if you didn't think that there was a possibility of it happening," she spoke her mind, letting her emotions go free as all of the pent up worry flowed out.

"(Y/N)," he spoke her name again, in a different tone this time. He didn't need this lecture. Not right now. "This is what needs to be done," he continued in a low voice, staying stoic in hopes that it would alleviate the situation quicker.

But (Y/N) no longer cared about what he did or didn't need at that moment, and if anything, his statement just made her even more upset.

"It doesn't need to be done like this," she insisted, "you don't need to sign your life away for a contract...for a man who doesn't give a single care about the stakes that have been raised here so long as he isn't the one carrying out the deed. Any other person would be trying to find a way to take themselves out of the equation but you've decided to put yourself in the driver's seat."

(Y/N) felt like she was talking in circles. Hell, she probably was, but she was doing so in hopes that something would be set off inside of him. She wanted him to realize that there was still time to think up another plan; one that didn't include him being placed in harm's way.

"What is it that you want from all of this?" he asked her, his brows furrowed together.

"You, Tommy!" she exclaimed, her frustration shining clear through her words. "I want you to fight! I want you to realize that things don't need to play out this way; that you can still put another plan into play!" she paused, taking a deep breath as she swiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes. "I want you to come home when all of this is finished," her voice was level again as she spoke the final sentence. Her eyes were locked onto his, hoping that he'd realize how much this was affecting her.

Their eyes stayed locked and a few moments passed before Tommy looked down at the ground. He exhaled a sigh as he brought his hand up to the back of his neck. "It's already done," he said, his voice void of any tone.

"Then I guess I'm done," the words left (Y/N)'s mouth before she could stop them. She didn't take them back though. She was tired of fighting in a one-sided fight. It was so obvious that Tommy had his mind made up. Nothing was going to change it at this point. But yet she still held onto that sliver of hope. She hoped that her showing up today and speaking her piece would get him to change his mind.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy looked up again as her name fell from his lips, shock now present in his expression.

"I can't be here a moment longer. I can't stand in front of a man who is acting as if he's already dead. I need to leave."

Her words were spoken softly, but Tommy heard them loud and clear. He said nothing as she moved to the archway, expecting her to leave without another word. To his surprise, she turned around just before she was about to exit the room.

"I didn't believe that love existed until you came along, Tommy. But you showed me how wrong I was for thinking that way; for thinking that I'd never experience something like that. And now you've just decided not only your future, but mine as well. I can't stay here and watch it play out. I'm not sure if I'll be home when you return. I just..." (Y/N) stopped speaking as the words got caught in her throat. She let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes once more.

All words escaped her at that moment, and she shook her head instead, deciding that finishing her declaration would be a lost cause anyway. She couldn't even bear to look at him again, too afraid that she'd actually break down. So instead she turned and made her way to the door of the home, opening it and leaving without looking back.

The sun was now shining down on her. It was an absolutely lovely day in London, but yet she was having one of the worst in her life. She decided to go for a walk, revisiting the streets that still felt like home even though she'd made the move to Birmingham several months ago.

(Y/N) knew Ada Shelby before she knew Tommy. She'd met her when Ada had moved into the next door apartment with her adorable son, Karl. The two women quickly became friends, spending a lot of time together right up until the day Ada had been found and hurt for being a Shelby.

Contact stopped briefly as Ada had moved out of the apartment, but things continued like nothing had even happened when Ada sent (Y/N) a letter that contained her new address. The two frequently spent time together in the front room of the lovely new home, sipping tea and talking about the day's events in front of the fire.

Ada's house was where (Y/N) first met Tommy. Surprise riddled their first encounter. Ada had stepped away to tend to Karl when Tommy came knocking on the door. (Y/N), being the friend that she was, didn't hesitate in opening it. The sight she was greeted with took her breath away. Thankfully Ada had returned from Karl's room, or who knows how long the two would have been standing in the doorway, staring at each other. She even joked about the fact that they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Of course it didn't help that Tommy had forgotten what it was he was even there for for the first few minutes of his visit.

That wasn't the last time (Y/N) saw Tommy. The two became very close very quickly. It was like they had known each other forever; like there was this pull present between them that neither could ignore. Things also got serious pretty quickly. So serious that (Y/N) was packing up her things and leaving her London apartment for Small Heath after only six months of knowing Tommy.

Some might think it was crazy; that things were moving much too fast. But (Y/N) had never felt so sure of doing something in her life.

Which made what was happening now hurt so much more. But she needed to keep walking. She'd done the right thing.

Tommy placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a match before taking a deep drag from it and exhaling slowly. The sealed letter sat on the table in front of him. He stared at it for a few moments before pressing the thumb and index fingers of his free hand against his eyelids, hoping it would alleviate some of the pressure he'd been feeling.

"I made you up some tea," Ada's voice broke through the silence, and the sound of glass being set on the table he was working at made Tommy lift his head again.

He nodded as a thank you before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips again. He then stamped it out in the ashtray while exhaling the smoke slowly.

"I heard everything that was said, you know," she said then, moving over to one of the chairs so that she could sit. "What were you thinking, Tommy?" she asked with raised eyebrows, her eyes zeroed in on her brother.

Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked off to the far wall. He didn't need anymore of this right now.

"She was my friend first. She was the only person who cared about me when I moved here. She helped me through a lot. I'm not going to let you ruin her for your stupid ambitions," Ada had no problem speaking her mind and letting him know how wrong he was for responding to (Y/N) the way he did.

Tommy pulled the timepiece from his pocket and checked it before letting out a sigh and returning it back to its place. "I need to leave," he told Ada before lifting the cup and downing the beverage in one go. In hindsight he was thankful that it wasn’t scorching hot. "Thanks for the tea," he said to her as he set the empty cup back down.

Nothing more was said as Tommy stood from the chair he was sitting on. He looked to Ada as he pulled the jacket he'd been wearing back on over his shoulders. She was glaring at him, hoping that he'd have something - anything - more to add to the conversation.

It became apparent that he didn't when he started for the archway. So Ada left him with one last statement: "please don't let her go, Tommy. We all need her." There was a quiet desperation now present in her eyes, one Tommy wasn't sure what to say in response to.

So he nodded and turned to exit the home, heading right to the car he parked a few streets down.

Truthfully what he wanted to do right now was head back to Birmingham and stop (Y/N) from leaving, to tell her that she was more important than any plan he could ever put into place. He knew she was justified in saying everything that she had.

But it was too late to do that now. Tommy knew that there'd be men searching for him by the end of the day if he stepped away from the plan this late into it. At least now he had some sort of control over the outcome of his life. And he was going to try like hell to stay alive...because now he had someone to stay alive for.

The house on Watery Lane was quiet when Tommy stepped into it later that evening. The fire in the main room was still lit, but he couldn't quite remember if they'd put enough wood on to keep it going prior to leaving that morning. So judging (Y/N)'s presence based on that could have surely given false hope.

He took his overcoat off and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. The suit jacket followed after, and he draped that over one of the chairs in the sitting room as he walked through it.

No one was downstairs, but he hadn't expected anyone to be at this time of night.

He quietly walked up the steps and down the hall to the bedroom that he and (Y/N) shared. He paused at the closed door, taking a moment both to steady himself; to regroup from the day's events, and to prepare himself for the possibility that he may be opening the door to an empty room.

After inhaling and exhaling deeply, he turned the knob and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the lit candle on the bedside table. Seeing it made all of his worries dissipate. (Y/N) had a habit of lighting them and then falling asleep.

Looking slightly to the right, he found the woman that hadn't left his mind since she left him in Ada's sitting room. She was laying on her side, facing the wall, telling him that she was sleeping.

Slowly, quietly he began ridding himself of his outer layers. It wasn't until he moved over to the dresser that he noticed the bags sitting on the floor. They were packed. It was easy to see that, even in the candlelight. He looked back to (Y/N) then, putting the pieces together in his mind. She was going to leave...but something made her stay.

Now only wearing his undergarments, he made his way over to the bed. Hesitation overcame him again. Should he lay with her? Should he go back downstairs? She was in her spot, tucked up against the wall so that enough room was present for him on the small bed they shared.

A few moments passed before he made his decision, lifting the covers and slowly slipping underneath them. He laid on his back for a short time before turning onto his side so that he was facing her sleeping frame. Another bout of hesitation filled him, but he didn't let it stick for too long as he gently draped his arm over her midsection.

That was when (Y/N) let out the shaky breath she'd been holding in from the moment she heard the door open. She was awake the entire time.

"Are you still awake, love?" Tommy asked in a whisper.

"Yes," she breathed out, her voice wavering.

"You've been crying," he pointed out, able to read her like an open book.

"I didn't know if I'd see you again," she answered him, choking up as she spoke.

"I'm here," he assured her, his arm wrapping tighter around her body.

(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Instead tears fell from her eyes as she held her breath, trying not to make it noticeable that she was crying. But Tommy was able to feel how her body was shaking.

"Turn and look at me," he said quietly, a soft demand that took her a few moments to comply with. Her tear-stained face became visible in the candlelight when she did, and seeing it broke Tommy's heart. "C'mere," he breathed, allowing her to move even closer to him so that he could engulf her in his embrace.

"No one knew where you were, Tommy," she whispered once she was finally able to get words out again. "I thought..." she paused, not even wanting to say what she was thinking, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry you had to think that way, darlin'," he murmured, stroking the back of her head slowly. He held her close until her body stopped shaking, giving her the time she needed. He didn't speak until she lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "Better?" he asked in a whisper, peering down to see that her eyes were still closed.

"Slightly," she breathed out a response. "I'm relieved that you're home. Is..." she paused, seeming like she was looking for the words to say next, "is it finished?"

"It's finished," he answered in a definitive tone, nodding his head as best he could.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath upon hearing his response, feeling as if the rest of the weight had lifted from her chest. She slowly opened her eyes and looked right into his. "I was going to leave," she started, watching Tommy's brows furrow together in the candlelight, "but I realized that this is part of the life I chose with you. That this is the type of work you carry out, and that I can either fight you on it or support you the best that I could. I also realized that my desire to be with you is so much greater than the worry that your work creates." Her eyes didn't stray from his as she spoke. Watching his hardened blue irises soften as he took in her words was enough to fill her heart to the brim with love.

Tommy took a moment to soak in her words. He moved his hand from behind her head so that he could gently trace the line of her jaw with his thumb. Taking in a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. Searching her eyes for a few seconds longer, he thought of the words he wanted to say.

"I thought I could lose everything and be totally fine with it," he began, clearing his throat in hopes that she wouldn't notice the fact that his voice was breaking. She noticed. "But then you came along...and now I see how wrong I was."

"Tommy," she breathed, taken back by his admission.

"I had nothing to live for up until you, (Y/N)," he admitted, not holding anything back now, "and I promise you now that things will change... that there’ll be no more of these plans. I don't want to have the possibility of an outcome that doesn't include you in it."

(Y/N)'s mind was swirling. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, she still couldn't quite believe the change of events that had happened. But she was so very thankful that things had ended up with Tommy by her side again.

"I love you, Tommy," she whispered, a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the phrase, his expression mirroring hers as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

Now that he had her again, he knew that he could never let her go. What he'd told Michael earlier in the evening would soon be true: he was going to ask (Y/N) to marry him.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

169 notes · View notes

bamboozled-shenanigans · 17 hours

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Huskerdust first time request!

And when I say that they would flirt and be fluffy at the exact same time and spontaneously be nervous as SHIT and NERVOUS they’re so stupid 😭🙏🏾🙏🏾

I love your writing style, I can’t wait to see how you write this! Thank you! <33

Note: Thank you so much for requesting something!!! It really means a lot to me, so thank you endlessly 🫶🫶🫶

Here’s 1500 words of fluffy/smutty Huskerdust! This prompt was honestly perfect, because I just know their first time would be so nerve-wracking for both of them until they realize that they can just lose themselves in each other 🥺 they make me sick /pos

Enjoy!!! (Oneshot under the cut)

It’s only been a few minutes, but Angel already knows two things— one, Husk is so good at kissing it should be illegal, and two, things are about to escalate much further than just that if Husk keeps on doing what he’s doing.

He’s so gentle with the way he kisses him, almost as if he’s testing the waters, and Angel feels the energy between them go straight down to his core. He pulls the other man as close as he can, sighing into the kiss, his face on fire and a soft smile tugging at his lips.

It could be minutes or hours that they’ve been making out, but Angel doesn’t know— and, quite frankly, he doesn’t care. He’s perfectly content to stay like this forever, basking in the success of his confession (and, hey, kissing Husk isn’t too bad of an outcome, either).

They pull apart momentarily, and Angel smiles wider as Husk plants one more quick kiss on his jaw.

“You know, you aren’t too bad at this, Whiskers,” the spider teases, and Husk chuckles as he moves in for the second time.

This time, the kiss is softer than ever, quiet breaths and hands tangled softly in hair, the two of them wrapped up in each other even closer. Angel blushes further; god, how invincible Husk makes him feel. He’s just about to pull back again, perhaps make a cheeky comment or two, when he notices something that makes his eyes widen and his face go a tomato-like red.

Oh, shit. Husk is hard. It’s really no wonder, with the way the two of them are pressed against each other, but his cheeks still burn with surprise and a tad bit of shame. Way to ruin things real fast, Anthony.

Husk seems to notice thjs predicament at the same time he does, and his eyes widen slightly, his face flushing as well. “Huh,” he remarks, somehow summoning the audacity to shoot Angel an amused look. “That’s…”

“Oh- I, uh-“ Angel stammers. “Sorry about that. I can, uh, go for a sec, if you want some time alone—“ he blinks once, finding an opportunity and seizing it. “Or…”

Husk doesn’t meet his eye, still blushing red. Angel finds it strangely adorable, and he presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t mind, if you want to do this.”

The air around them goes from sweet to charged with energy, though Angel can’t quite tell what kind. Husk brushes a hand across his cheek, and it’s then that Husk seems to make a decision, and nods.

“Only if you’re fine with it.” Husk’s hand comes to rest on Angel’s waist, holding him close. Angel nods and swallows, smiling warmly at Husk.

“Are ya crazy? I ain’t never turnin’ down this.” He leans down and presses his mouth to Husk’s again, opening it slightly so he can push his tongue inside.

He tastes like brandy and sugar, warm and inviting, and his embrace is just as sweet. Angel shivers as Husk’s mouth moves down to his jaw, his eyes half-lidded and sharp.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Angel laughs, and Husk just holds him closer in response.

“Me too, Angel,” he murmurs, and Angel feels the wind nearly get knocked out of his lungs at how sincere the older man sounds— he’s never heard that tone of voice in his entire existence, not from any number of partners he’s been with, for business or simply on the side.

Husk’s hand slides up his shirt almost cautiously, and Angel gives a small groan of approval. The other’s hands run across his bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He’s absolutely breathless, dizzy with anticipation, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. Slowly, he grinds down onto Husk’s lap, eliciting a light gasp from the both of them at the pressure.

Fuck, am I really about to do this?

Of course, ‘this’ is nothing new to him, in the practical sense. He'd been in this position plenty of times before, but right now? He just can’t help but feel that this is different. Is it the fact that Husk is so gentle with him, so calm and trustworthy? Is it how late it is at night now, or his previous confession, or…

That doesn’t matter now, though, as Husk reaches up to unbutton his shirt, snapping him clean out of his thoughts. Shifting in his lap to give him more access, Angel pulls back to admire the look on his face, one of both concentration and impatience combined.

“Excited?” he teases, and Husk rolls his eyes playfully as the shirt finally comes off, throwing the garment to the side and leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the collarbone.

“Say, Whiskers, Id’a never thought you of all people would be so eager to— fuck!” Angel gasps and sucks in a breath as Husk presses a kiss to the sensitive skin on his jawline, sending a jolt of surprise through his body.

Husk nibbles once more at his collar, smiling. “That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he retorts, earning a smack on the arm from Angel.

“Aw, shut your face an’ kiss me.” Angel tilts his head as their lips connect again, sighing as he lets him run his hands through the soft hair on his chest. Husk’s hand dips to his waist, just for a moment, but Angel can sense the question there— may I?

“Please,” he breathes out, his heartbeat going wild in his chest. He’s this close to losing his regular bravado, but if he’s honest? He doesn’t care. Husk has seen him like this before, seen Anthony instead of Angel Dust, seen him at his worst and at his very best… So why not see him now?

Husk shrugs out of his own clothing before helping Angel out of the rest of his, letting out a small whistle at the sight of him. Angel blushes and averts his eyes as he lays back on his elbows, feeling shy all of a sudden despite how often he’s been bare like this.

“You’re beautiful,” Husk whispers against his jaw, his hands roaming across the other’s body. They slip lower, lower, lower, stopping just below his navel. “Can I…”

Angel feels the entire room melt away around him, leaving just him, Husk, and the question he’s been asked hanging in the air. He nods, letting out a small chuckle and brushing a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he says, half disbelieving the luck he’s had tonight and half scared out of his mind. “Go ahead.”

Husk kisses him on the lips as he slides a single finger into his entrance, and Angel gasps and arches his back. It’s odd, since he’s not normally so sensitive, but he’s definitely not complaining— and neither is Husk, from the look on his face. He twists his hand, eliciting another soft cry from the spider.

“Oh, shit— Who the hell taught you to do that?” Angel pants, and Husk merely laughs and kisses him again, continuing to pump his fingers inside him, another one of his fingers entering him as he circles his clit.

Angel’s surprisingly quiet, for having a job that requires him to be so vocal, but each small sound he makes as Husk does his work is more intoxicating than anything else could ever be. Just as he gets close to the edge, an oh-so-familiar twinge twisting in his gut, Husk pulls back and looks him in the eye.

“Is it alright if I do more?” Husk asks, making sure Angel keeps eye contact. Angel nods, smiling, and kisses him again.

“Trust me, if I don’t like it, I’ll stop ya.” Angel’s voice is soft, slightly hoarse, but he makes sure he’s heard. He hears just a slight bit of rustling as Husk positions himself, and then—

“Fuck”. Angel lets out a shaky moan, clinging onto Husk and closing his eyes. “Oh- oh, god,” he breathes, kissing him again as they both adjust to the new feeling.

Husk’s lips on his feel so familiar, as if he’s kissed him a million times before, and Angel lets himself sink into the other man’s embrace as he draws him closer, their bodies intertwined. Slowly, Husk moves further inside him, his mouth swallowing the strangled groan that Angel chokes out as he begins to set a slow but even pace.

It feels like something straight out of one of his shoots— though this time, he doesn’t have to fake his pleasure. It feels as if waves of a feeling suspiciously like fire are rolling over him, and he lets himself succumb, lost in bliss as he nears the edge.

“You close, Legs?” Husk pants out, tilting Angel’s chin so he’ll look him in the eye.

“Y-yeah, I am.” The words are shaky.

“Me too.”

Husk kisses him, passionate and deep, and with one final thrust, they both topple over the edge. It’s a high like Angel’s never felt, sober or otherwise, like climbing Mount Everest and then jumping right off, knowing there’s someone at the bottom of the summit to catch him all the same. Husk plops down on his chest, pulling out, and they simply stay as their breathing calms and they both come down.

“Holy fuck.” Angel lets out a laugh, stroking the top of Husk’s head. “That was…”

“Earth-shattering?” Husk laces their fingers together. “Agreed.”

Angel’s eyelids are heavy, and Husk seems to notice— he reaches for the bed’s blanket and pulls it over them, cuddling close to Angel and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“We should probably clean up,” Angel whispers, but neither of them move. Eh, we’ll get it tomorrow.

As he begins to drift off, Angel can’t help but be grateful for that letter he’d written— and for every single thing in his afterlife that had led to this moment, to the love of his life dozing peacefully with him in his arms, warm and secure.

“I love you,” he whispers, planting a kiss on Husk’s forehead.

“I love you too, Anthony,” Husk murmurs back, and then they both fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, their bodies and hearts intertwined.

23 notes · View notes

kenzan-kiwami · 6 months

Note

I'm just over here stealth reading your wagi notes like I'm studying for some kind of old man exam.... Good stuff in there... 🥰

HONESTLY with some of the takes i've seen across god's great internet i've been half tempted to arrange some kashiwagi comprehension questions because oh my GOD

thank you though! 💚 they're there to be read (i hope) so don't feel like you need to be stealthy as such

#i definitely think i mentioned one of the takes ever in snap's stream a while ago but i couldn't tell you who was in chat at the time #i don't want to present myself as any kind of authority on The Kashiwagi but some of the things people say about him are entirely baseless #not what prompted any of this though. i just... enjoy writing about him #probably more than any other character i've liked so far because my faves up to this point have either been 1D or massively popular #maybe one day i'll branch out to fic. we never know! i'd need to get over my deep-set fear of baring my creative self to the world first #i would like to but it's hard and i've been out of practice writing prose for the past twelve years lmaooo #thanks again for writing in /wink #ask

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minisugakoobies · 28 days

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #fic: cross my heart

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amiableness · 3 months

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Love Letters

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n starts receiving love letters, and James doesn't handle it well, leading to him writing his own.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, kissing, that’s all I think

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this! Would love to know what you think!

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Surprise washes over you as the envelope lands before you, swishing flaps of the owls' wings beginning to fade away.

"Oh." You murmur, your features forming into a puzzled expression as you peer down at the unfamiliar, striking red envelope. Like clockwork, a letter from your parents arrives every Monday, snug in its customary ivory envelope. Yet, today being Wednesday, the arrival of a letter is unexpected.

"It is Wednesday, isn't it?" Remus inquires from next to you, his expression reflecting your own confusion. Having been friends with the boys for years, they had grown accustomed to your letter every Monday—a tradition you always looked forward to.

"It is," You confirm, lifting the letter and turning it over, searching for any indication of its sender. There's nothing—just a blank exterior. "This isn't from my parents." You say softly, your tone laced with confusion and curiosity.

As you tear into the envelope, the rustle catches the attention of Sirius, his curiosity piqued.

"It's not Monday." Sirius remarks, his brow furrowed, prompting you to glance up at him. His words seem to have drawn the interest of both James and Peter, their gazes shifting towards you with a hint of confusion etched on their faces.

"It's not. But this isn't from my parents." You reply, pulling the letter out and enfolding it.

"Could it be a love letter?" Sirius quips, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He was teasing you more than anything, not really expecting it to be one.

Remus casts a quick glance in your direction, skimming over the letter's contents before barking out an amused laugh. The signature at the end gives him his answer.

"I think it is, mate." He grins, and you give him a playful glare. You had glimpsed the signature at the end, yet a nervous flutter danced within you as you hesitated to delve into the contents of the letter itself.

"What?" James interjects, his tone suddenly brimming with vulnerability. If he wasn't intrigued before, he certainly is now.

You're engrossed in your own thoughts, too preoccupied to discern the subtle panic in his voice. But the boys all glance towards James, aware of his feelings for you, but the unmistakable devastation across his face is evidence that he didn't write the letter. He's too absorbed in watching you examine the letter to notice the intensity of their stare.

"What does it say?" Peter leans forward curiously, dragging his gaze away from James. Remus and Sirius turn to watch you, eager to hear your response.

Breakfast seems to be forgotten between the five of you, everyone much too curious about the letter's contents.

When you don't respond promptly, Sirius calls out, "Read it." You shoot him a glance, silently urging him to be patient.

"I can't," You sigh, pushing the letters towards Remus and giving him a hopeful look. "Will you read it, Rem?"

Remus accepts the letter from you with a gentle smile, his fingers adjusting the paper's position before he begins to read it aloud. Your nerves flutter with anticipation as you await the contents of the letter, but the reassuring timbre of Remus' voice washes over you, helping to soothe how jittery you feel.

James straightens up, anticipation evident in his posture as he eagerly awaits the contents of the letter addressed to you.

Y/n,

I don't have the courage to tell you in person, though I wish I did. But I think you're incredibly beautiful, not just in appearance but in how you carry yourself and the kindness you exude. From the very moment I first saw you, I found myself unable to look away. There's something about you that's simply mesmerizing, captivating me in a way I never expected. And so, despite my nerves, I felt compelled to let you know.

Perhaps one day, when the timing is right, I'll find the courage to share these thoughts with you in person. Until then, please know I admire you deeply, even if I remain a mystery as of right now.

Forever Yours

Remus gently returns the letter to you, and you accept it, your eyes skimming over the unfamiliar handwriting. There's a fleeting trace of disappointment that washes through you. You had hoped to recognize the handwriting instantly, to attribute it to someone familiar.

To be honest, you had secretly hoped to find James Potter's messy handwriting etched into the paper.

Your crush on James had blossomed back in fifth year, and despite your best efforts, it seemed impossible to shake. Not that you truly wanted to let go of it. However, you were well aware of the necessity to do so. James had a string of admirers lining up for his attention, and he seemed to revel in the attention, enjoying his time flirting and charming those around him.

You were undeniably his best friend, a title you cherished, yet a significant part of you yearned for something more. Realistically, you understood that distancing yourself might be the key to getting over him. However, every attempt to create some distance seemed futile, as James inexplicably sought you out even more whenever you tried to pull away.

Your best strategy seemed to be simply completing your seventh year and allowing your feelings to gradually fade with the natural distance that would inevitably emerge between the two of you.

"Forever yours? Merlin, Y/n. You've got yourself an admirer!" Sirius calls out enthusiastically, while you chewed your bottom lip in thought. You were flattered, but it unnerved you a little to not know who was behind the letter.

Was it someone you knew yet weren't particularly close to? Perhaps it was an acquaintance you had exchanged words with in passing. Or, what if it was someone entirely unfamiliar to you, someone you had never spoken to before? The uncertainty gnawed at your thoughts, leaving you pondering the possibilities.

James felt as though a vice had tightened around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. His stomach churned with a mixture of anxiety and jealousy, his heart heavy with the realization that someone else had feelings for you.

Panic surged within him, fueled by the nagging thought that this situation wouldn't be unfolding if he had mustered the courage to make a move on you years ago. Maybe, just maybe, you would've been his if he had taken that chance. The warmth that spread across his cheeks betrayed the intensity of his longing, a daydream of you being his that played out in his mind with unwavering persistence.

It wasn't as though he hadn't made attempts. He had tried to flirt with you, albeit subtly, but it seemed you either weren't interested or didn't quite grasp the signals he was sending your way.

Last year, the boys and you had planned to take a leisurely stroll around the grounds, a much-needed respite from the relentless torrent of homework. Remus, Sirius, and Peter conveniently vanished, each claiming urgent tasks they had just recalled, leaving you and James to explore the castle grounds on an unusually warm spring day. James knew their sudden disappearance was orchestrated, a subtle maneuver to encourage closeness between you. However, he didn't mind in the least; he was grateful for the opportunity to spend time alone with you.

His plan had been to flirt with you, gauging your reaction before subtly suggesting a date. However, to his surprise, you simply said thank you and seamlessly continued with your previous conversation, throwing his carefully laid plans into disarray. Despite this, there was no awkwardness between you; you were best friends. But James had never complimented you like this before, openly expressing how pretty you looked, how kind you were, and how much he admired you. If his compliments caught you off guard, you certainly didn't let it show.

James couldn't shake the lingering sense of uncertainty as the walk drew to a close. You had deftly sidestepped all his compliments, scarcely acknowledging his attempts at flirting. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that perhaps he stood no chance with you. Yet, his feelings remained steadfast, refusing to be extinguished. If he were truly honest with himself, he would admit that he had fallen irrevocably in love with you long ago.

"I'll catch up with you guys later." You called out, gathering your belongings and turning to leave. James watched you go, suddenly realizing that he had tuned out the rest of the conversation, too lost in his thoughts about you.

"Hey, mate, you alright?" Remus inquires, observing James sitting quietly, his gaze fixed in the direction you departed. When James takes a moment to respond, Sirius nudges him gently.

"Everything okay?" Sirius asks again, his eyes fixed on James as he sighs and finally turns back to the table.

James sighs, "I feel like I've lost her, and she isn't even mine."

"Hardly, mate. It was just one love letter." Sirius says, finding James a tad dramatic.

"But that's more than I've ever done for her. Fuck, I should've made a move ages ago." James rests his head in his hands, effectively blocking the light from his eyes.

"Then why don't you make a move?" Peter suggests, his tone tinged with a hint of exasperation. He finds the situation utterly ridiculous. It's crystal clear to him just how much you like James, and vice versa.

"Make a move?" James echoes, his expression incredulous as he gazes up at Peter, clearly bewildered by the suggestion.

"I don't get it. You flirt with every girl, but when it comes to Y/n, you freeze up at the mere thought of confessing your feelings for her." Peter points out, reaching for another piece of toast.

"I don't know what to do." James admits, his voice tinged with defeat and uncertainty.

"Try something romantic." Peter sighs, buttering his toast and casting an exasperated glance at James.

"He can barely talk to her about his feelings; how's he going to manage that?" Sirius interjects, earning a glare from James.

"Write her a love letter," Remus suggests, and all eyes turn to him. "She might receive another one tomorrow. Show her she has someone else who's interested."

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

It took James several days of inner turmoil before he finally decided to write his own letter. Enduring the heartfelt declarations of affection from another towards you had been an arduous task, leaving him consumed by jealousy and resentment. By the fifth day of listening to such sentiments, James knew he couldn't bear it any longer. It was then that he made the decision to pour his own feelings onto paper, hoping to write you a love letter that urged you to forget the others.

As the owls swoop in, James feels a wave of nausea wash over him. He had followed Remus' advice, and at this moment, he's strongly regretting it. He observes your reaction intently as two letters drop down in front of you this morning. You seem a little startled, picking up the red envelope and then the pink one. You flip both around, scanning for any words written across them. However, like yesterday, they remain blank.

"What a popular girl you are, love." Sirius grins, and you send him a mock, unamused look.

"Rem." You call, sending Remus a soft smile as you hold out the red envelope to him. James feels a pang of jealousy at the fact you didn't pick up his letter first.

Remus takes the envelope from you, breaking the seal before sliding out the letter and beginning to read it aloud.

Y/n,

I can hardly express the nerves that consume me as I watch you open my letters. I understand that knowing the sender would give it more meaning, and I hope that one day, I'll have the courage to reveal my identity to you without fear of disappointing you.

For now, I find solace in our shared classes. Your smile and laughter illuminate even the dreariest of days for me. Your beauty, both inside and out, is something I greatly admire.

Forever Yours

As you finish reading the letter, a thoughtful hum escapes your lips, catching the attention of all the boys. There's a distinct expression on your face, one that suggests you're unsure of how to react. Your lips are pursed, and you're staring down at your plate, lost in deep thought.

"You don't like it?" Peter inquires, and you shrug, uncertain of how to respond.

"I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I mean, I don't know who it's from, but they seem to really like me," You mull over, your thoughts wandering. "Honestly, I think I'd prefer if someone just came out and admitted it was them."

Feeling confident the previous night, James had boldly hinted that the letter was from one of the Marauders. However, in the bright morning light, he finds himself plagued by regret over that decision. James suddenly feels the urge to snatch the pink envelope from your hands and shield it from your view, refusing to let you read its contents. However, he knows that would reveal his identity. On the other hand, when you eventually read his letter, the words may very well give him away.

But perhaps that's not such a bad thing. After all, you did mention that you would prefer someone to come forward and admit if it was them.

"Okay, Rem. Second letter?" You hold out the pink envelope, and James swallows nervously. His entire body feels tense with fear, especially when Remus locks eyes with him before opening the letter and preparing to read.

"Saved the best for last, did you?" Sirius teases, earning a subtle nudge from James. You simply look up at Sirius and shrug, muttering, "We'll see."

But as your eyes briefly meet James', there's a subtle shift in the air. In that fleeting moment of connection, you seem to detect something in the depths of his gaze. It's as if unspoken words hang between you, a silent understanding passing between the both of you.

Without a word spoken, your hand moves almost instinctively towards Remus, reaching out to grasp his wrist where the letter rests in his hand. It's a subtle gesture, but one that speaks volumes.

"Actually, I think I want to read this one by myself."

Remus looks a little puzzled, casting a glance from you to James, before eventually handing over the letter. You offer him a gentle thank you before lowering your gaze to the messy handwriting sprawled across the page.

The boys observe you with bated breath, knowing exactly who this one is from. They all watch you with curious expressions on their faces. James, however, feels a knot forming in his stomach, convinced he's on the verge of feeling sick. Yet, amidst his unease, there's a faint sense of relief knowing that the boys won't overhear what he's written. The thought of their endless teasing is enough to make him shudder.

To my Y/n,

I am wholeheartedly convinced that I fell in love with you the second I saw you. When Remus introduced you to us, I couldn't breathe. It was as if everything in the world had stopped, leaving only you in focus. But then, as if by some miracle, you turned to me with a shy smile and uttered your name, and in that moment, I knew I was done for.

I've spent countless nights thinking of you, wondering if you felt even the slightest bit of what I feel for you. And as pathetic as it may seem, I've imagined what it would be like if we were together. How I'd spoil you with chocolate frogs, hold your hand through the hallways as we walk to class, and wrap my robes around you every time you complain of being cold. I want you to know that you're the only girl in the world to me.

But I can't show you that. And believe me, Y/n, I've tried to move on.

Yet, there is no one else who could even begin to compare to you. Not once has anyone come close. While I have flirted with other people, my mind always drifts back to you. No matter how hard I try to resist, it's what I think about when I'm talking to someone else. It's you that I measure every other person against. And they never compare.

No one ever will.

Throughout the years, you have become one of my closest friends. And while I wouldn't have it any other way, there is a part of me that is selfish, yearning for more with you.

I would do anything to ensure your happiness. Say the word, and I'll do anything for you.

Always Yours

You rise from your seat abruptly, a glimmer of tears in your eyes as you clench the letter tightly in your hand. James stands up, too, a mixture of fear and anticipation in his eyes. "Y/n, I—" He begins, but you're already walking away, and he's left to watch you go, his heart pounding with a tumult of emotions. He knows you've realized he wrote the letter; it was unmistakable from his reaction. The boys, wide-eyed and silent, watch the scene unfold, the weight of the moment palpable in the air.

"Fuck, fuck." He mumbles to himself, his mind racing with regret and anxiety. He moves to leave, determined to follow after you and attempt to repair the friendship he undoubtedly just shattered. However, as he turns, he notices you don't walk out of the Great Hall. Instead, you navigate around the Gryffindor table, heading in his direction. You don't stop until you're standing directly in front of James.

He watches you with wide eyes, his heart aching at the tears that line your lash line, knowing they are because of him. Only the boys and a couple of other Gryffindors are witnessing the intense exchange between the two of you; the rest of the Great Hall remains oblivious to the tension that hangs heavy in the air.

"Are you daft?"

"Y/n, I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

You don't let him finish. Instead, you push up onto your toes, lacing your fingers through James' hair at the nape of his neck, and pull him down to you in a searing kiss. James lets out a surprised moan, but swiftly reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Kissing James ignites a fire under your skin and leaves your legs feeling like jelly. Grateful for his sturdy embrace, you lean into him, your trust in his strength a comforting anchor as the world spins around you. Never have you felt like this when being kissed, it was intoxicating.

The sudden eruption of whistles and hollers around you signals that everyone has witnessed the intimate moment between the two of you.

"Mister Potter! Miss L/N!” Professor McGonagall's appalled shock causes you to reluctantly pull away from James. While the consequences of your actions should concern you, the way James looks at you washes away any worries.

"C'mon! Let them have their moment!" Sirius calls out, his voice filled with playful defiance. You can't help but giggle, still pressed against James, feeling a surge of warmth and affection between the two of you.

"I've loved you for years." You mumur, a grin spreading across your face, your heart brimming with warmth and affection.

"Thank Merlin, because I'm madly in love with you." He whispers, his sincerity so palpable that it threatens to overwhelm you.

He could rest assured, knowing that you wouldn't be receiving any more love notes from anyone else but him.

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter blurb #james potter fic #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era

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selenascorner · 9 days

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GOT HERE FIRST, TOO LATE - C.S.

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary: You've been in a situationship with Chris for quite some time. Feeling weary of this, you decide to stir things up when his brother Matt shows interest in you. After all, if he isn't ready to call you his out loud, he shouldn't get bent out of shape about it.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ content, dom!chris, possessive!chris, rough sex, teasing, degradation kink, unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, face riding, missionary, sex tape, edging, orgasm denial, use of pet names, angst, jealousy, cursing.

a/n: settle in ig, this is 4,4k words; also i listened to unforgettable on repeat while writing this

On a casual Saturday night, you were on your way to meet some friends at a bar. This was a well-deserved break after a stressful week of work. It was just you and your friends, but one of them was more than that - Chris. Your relationship with Chris was a secret, shared only when no one else was looking. He didn't want an official relationship for various reasons - the fans, his busy schedule, and his fear of commitment. Yet, he only desired you. Despite being his secret, you couldn't help but want him more each time you saw him. His treatment of you was special and caring, unlike anyone else.

Upon entering the bar, the scent of beer greeted you. You looked around, spotting your friends at a table, laughing and chatting. You approached them, smiling at the sight of Matt, Nick, and Chris.

As you neared, Matt waved at you with a genuine smile. Nick and Chris turned around, with Nick waving and Chris just smirking. Your heart pounded in your chest as you neared the table, with Chris' smirk doing nothing to calm your nerves.

"Hello, fancy people," you greeted, placing your purse on the chair next to Chris.

"Hey y/n, we missed you lots!” Nick exclaimed, giving you a warm hug. Matt also got up, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"How have you been?" Nick asked as he sat back down. You turned to Chris, who simply raised three fingers in greeting. "Hi," you responded, sitting next to him.

"I've been good," you answered, turning your attention to Nick and Matt while Chris smirked at you.

“Alright, alright. What you been doing? You up to something?” Nick asks you, you shake your head, crossing your legs under the table.

“I haven’t been doing nothing special, it’s just like that. I’m so stressed because of work though, I’m glad we finally fitted a night out that is somewhere else rather than your place. Was getting tired of the smell of junk food.” You say, a chuckle escaping your lips.

Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text from Chris.

chris

come closer, don’t be shy

You glanced at him, seeing his smirk, and decided not to give in to his request. Instead, you focused on your conversation with Matt and Nick. However, Chris scooted his chair closer to you, unnoticed by the others. You felt his hand slowly move up your leg, causing your heart to flutter with nerves.

You shake your head and your eyes shut, aware of what he’s doing, your face getting hot as all you can see is Nick and Matt laughing.

You hummed, enjoying his movements. Your attention was instantly grabbed when Nick slapped his hand onto the table, calling Chris' name.

"Dude, what the hell?" Chris asked, as Nick stood up.

"Bathroom. Need to talk to you," Nick replied. Chris grabbed his phone before standing up, giving you a quick glance to let you know he would return soon. That left you alone with Matthew.

You and Matthew didn't often converse. He was more of a quiet person, but this time he seemed like he was in the vein to talk.

"So, why are you so stressed?" He abruptly asked, prompting you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

"Work's been a bit overwhelming. I have too much to do by the end of June," you answered. He tilted his head in confusion.

"What kind of stuff? Can we help in any way?" He inquired, activating the Do Not Disturb mode on his phone as a sign of respect toward you.

"Well, I don't think you guys can help, but thank you for showing interest," you replied with a smile.

"Are you sure? Anything at all?" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes sincere. Sometimes you wished Chris had Matthew's temperament, but it was what it was. Unfurtunately you liked Chris for what he was, not for what he could’ve been.

"Yes, Matt. I'm okay. But you could pay for dinner to really help me out," you joked, turning around and reaching into your purse for a hair tie.

"Alright," he just agreed, adjusting his hat.

"What?" You turned immediately around, taken aback by his response.

"I'll pay for dinner," he repeated, removing his hat to fix his hair before putting it back on.

"Wait- no, I wasn't serious, I was joking-" you protested, but he quickly dismissed your concerns.

"Relax, y/n. It's no problem at all," he laughed at your reaction, but you couldn't help feeling guilty for making the paying joke.

"Matthew, seriously, I was joking. Please, I'll feel guilty," you insisted, reaching for your wallet. He stopped you gently, placing a hand on yours, and you couldn’t help but glance at this.

“Y/n, you need to relax. This is the least I can do. Let me pay," he calmly reassured you. His sincerity was apparent. He genuinely wanted to do it.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you-“ you began, but he cut you off, his thumb softly brushing against your hand.

"Completely sure. Chris and Nick probably would've made me pay anyways, so it's no big deal," he said, laughing as he glanced around the room. You were too focused on him.

"Alright, big man. Thank you," you said jokingly, a smile spreading on your face, his hand still on yours, giving a little squeeze. You were interrupted by Chris, who threw himself into his chair. That was probably why Matthew had been looking around. His hand quickly left yours.

"Please, don't mind me," Chris laughed at your interaction, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

"I'm sorry?" Matt asked, catching Chris' attention as he chewed on some breadsticks.

"What?" Chris asked, a teasing smile on his face.

"It's not like something was going on," Matt retorted, gesturing over the table.

"Matt, I don't care. You know what's surprising? The only girl you can pull is literally our best friend," Chris said, making you feel weird. He had never referred to you as 'best friend' before. He’s never done that.

"You know what's surprising, Chris? That you can't treat a pretty girl right. You always make us feel miserable because your attitude scares every girl away," Matt responded, clearly irritated. A smirk spread on Chris' face, knowing he had you wrapped around his finger. Matthew's irritation was precisely what Chris had aimed for.

"Sure, buddy," Chris responds, just teasing Matt further. As the waiter delivers the food to your table.

Matt pauses his speech, seemingly unfazed by Chris' indifference. Chris, meanwhile, starts eating while Nick settles into his chair, casually brushing his hands against his legs.

"So, what did I miss? Chris, could you pass the salt?" Nick asks Chris, licking his lips.

Chris, without looking away from his food, grabs the salt and hands it to Nick. This odd behavior leaves Nick feeling a bit unsettled.

"Thanks. Your food's not going anywhere, you know," Nick jokes, sprinkling some salt over his fries.

"What did you mean by 'sure, buddy'?" Matt asks, his meal cooling as he hesitates to touch it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Chris replies, taking another bite of his burger and completely ignoring Matt's question.

"What the hell does that mean?" Matt demands, causing Nick to turn at the sound of his harsh word.

"What's going on?" Nick asks, looking at Matt and Chris, a concerned expression on his face.

"Matt, I'm eating. D’you mind?" Chris says, finally looking up.

“’m sorry.” You feel guilty about the tension at the table, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom, getting up from your chair and rushing to it, feeling the urge to cry but holding the tears back as much as you could.

In the bathroom, you try to calm yourself. A sudden knock on the door startles you, but you wait for the person to identify themselves before opening it.

"Y/n? Can you open this fucking door? I'm trying to eat," Chris' voice comes through the door.

You quickly open the door to see Chris looking at you, concern etched on his face at the sight of your watery eyes.

"What happened?" He asks. You avoid his gaze, but he gently lifts your chin to make you look at him.

"I'm not playing, Y/n. What's wrong?" he asks again, his tone firmer. He wants an answer.

“Chris I- I really wasn't doing anything with Matt," you explain him, nervously fidgeting with your shirt.

"Matt was trying to do something with you, though," Chris says, gritting his teeth.

You just gulp, shaking your head as Chris places a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

"Don't worry. I got exactly what Matt was trying to do. I'll show him what he got from it," he murmurs into your ear, tucking a loose strand of hair behind it. "I'll get us a hotel room after dinner, okay?" Despite the situation, you can't help but feel excited. You nod at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile before leading you back to the table.

Back at the table, he does nothing, he simply sits on his chair as soon as he reaches the table and continues his meal as if nothing happened between you guys.

You begin to eat your burger, feeling a bit embarrassed by the situation you are in. It wasn't really your fault, though you wonder why you didn’t tell Matt to back off. But if Chris isn't ready to acknowledge your relationship in front of others, you don't see it as a problem. Despite everything, you find yourself really liking Chris. You steal glances at him as he enjoys his meal, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. You give Matt a playful smile, biting your cheek to suppress your embarrassment.

"Hey, Y/n, it just occurred to me, you haven't been hit by cupid's arrow yet, have you?" Matt asks, laughing as he takes a bite of his burger, as you cringe as his own question.

Chris drops his burger for the first time that day, clearly agitated by Matt's teasing, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Uhh... I haven't. But I'm good. I don't need one," you simply answer.

Nick chimes in, "It's weird you haven't found a boyfriend yet.”He says, and Chris can’t help but tease you at the occasion.

"Yeah, really weird," Chris echoes, feigning amusement.

"I'm not looking for one. At all," you spat, your cheeks turning red.

"But you're fucking someone, right?" Chris teases you further by asking this, causing you to gasp and Nick to choke on his food.

"Whoa, alright Chris," Nick intervenes, as he laughs nervously.

"Man, I'm just curious. She's our best friend, right Y/n?" Chris says, pointing at you, licking his lips..

Nick steps in to defend you, "That’s none of your business, Chris. Leave her alone."

"Alright, alright," Chris concedes, lifting his hands in surrender.

"But are you seeing someone, Y/n?" Matt asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"Didn't you hear what Nick said? Leave her alone," Chris retorts, mocking Nick’s tone.

"See, Matt asked politely. You didn’t. ‘Are you fucking someone?’” Nick says, mimicking Chris' earlier tone and expression.

This provokes Chris to stand up and walk over to Matt, "Wallet, your turn." Matt gives you a playful glance, his lips mouthing the words ‘told you.

"There we go," Chris says, handing Matt his own wallet. You were waiting for him outside the restaurant, knowing that he wouldn't take long.

Nick opens the back door of Matthew’s car, noticing how you don’t walk over them.

“Come on, we can take you home if you’d like.” Nick says, inviting you.

You’re about to open your mouth, however, Chris interrupts before you can reply,

“We have some things to do. I'll walk her home. It’s not a long walk, anyways.”

"But-" Matt starts to protest, but Chris wraps an arm around your neck.

"We're supposed to... do something together," you state, a hint of shyness in your voice. The thought of what you're about to do together fills your mind, different scenarios playing in your head.

"But-" Matt tries to interject again, but this time Nick stops him.

"Matt, let them be. They'll be back, right?" He asks and the both of you nod, Chris giving you a pleased smirk.

Matt proposes to you. Chris can't help but chuckle, the way he’s trying too hard is just so funny to him. You simply nod in response before Chris waves them goodbye and leads you in the opposite direction from where their car is parked, and Chris pulls you into the nearest hotel he can find, just around the corner.

“Chris- the prices are crazy here-“ you try to argue, but Chris doesn't let you finish.

"I don't fucking care," he interrupts, approaching the front desk with a fake smile, letting go of you.

“Hello, a room for two, please." he requests, as the receptionist begins typing on her computer.

"When would you like the room?" she asks, looking up at him.

"Immediately, if possible. Just for a few hours," he answers, while you stand quietly by his side.

"Would you prefer a standard room or a suite?" she questions, to which Chris promptly responds, “Suite’s fine.” He pulls out his wallet from his pocket.

"Could you provide your IDs, please?" she enquires, you watch as Chris reaches into your bag for your wallet, retrieves both your IDs, and hands them to her.

"Excellent, here is your key. The room number is 205. If you need anything, please call the reception from the desk phone. Enjoy your stay!" she says, as Chris pays for the room.

You're stunned that he's got you a suite. You had a hunch about what was coming next, and strangely enough, you were looking forward to it. Chris leads you to the elevator, not even looking at you. The thought of your dinner conversation with Matt has him seething. He was fuming mad, the words 'wanna do something later at my place' made him snap, and said by his own brother? God. As if you were going to fuck him. You were his. Not Matt’s, you were Chris’.

As soon as the elevator dings to signal your floor, he hurries you to your room. As you enter, he locks the door behind you tightly.

He sighs, places your bag on the desk and flops onto the bed, arms behind his head. You just gaze at him, waiting for him to speak first, anxiety rising in your chest.

"Strip," he finally commands, not even bothering to shift positions.

You comply without hesitation, looking at him as you remove your shoes, socks, shirt, and pants. Left only in your underwear, being braless, you go to remove them too, but he stops you.

"No, c’mere," he says, patting the space next to him. You oblige, walking up to him and finally straddling him as he remains laid back.

He pulls you closer by your hips, his hair brushing against your chest. He then slides down onto the bed fully, lifting you so your underwear meets his face. He rips them apart with his mouth, which makes you complain.

"Chris, what the fuck!” you say as he further tears them with his fingers and discards them on the floor. His face then dives into your wet cunt, pleasuring you like a man starved. He ate you like you were a meal, and as he hasn’t eaten in days.

You let out a loud moan, and you can't help but look down at him. The way he grips your thighs while sucking your bud is enough to make you whimper. He eagerly plays with your clit, alternating between it and your entrance, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

You moan his name loudly, and he responds with a hard slap on your ass, reminding you that you could be heard, and you just moan louder.

“Fuck- Chris, oh my god, I’m so close, fuck!” you manage to get out before he slaps your ass again, signaling that you're not allowed to cum yet.

You groan, knowing he won't let you finish. Just when you were about to pull away from him, he grabs your thigh, forcing you to stay in place, your clit bumping against his nose, making you bite your teeth to muffle your moans. The pleasure was overwhelming. You close your eyes, ready to climax, but just as you're about to let go, he pulls away from your saturation, panting heavily while pushing his hair back.

"Turn around.” he instructs with labored breaths. You turn around, confused, so your ass is now in his face.

It’s not until you lift your hips for him and feel his nose teasing your entrance while his mouth pays attention to your clit that you understand what he's doing.

"Chris, oh my god!" you moan, and he rewards you with another slap on your ass.

He starts to flick your clit with his tongue, and that's what pushes you over the edge, giving it slow teasing kitten licks.

“‘m gonna- Chris, ‘m gonna cum..” you warn, your climax suddenly hitting you as your legs shake around his head. He doesn't let you go, continuing to pleasure you throughout your orgasm, sucking on your bud.

"Oh, fuck…” you gasp as you come down from your high, his mouth still on your clit, his nose now covered in your juices, making you bite your lip at the thought.

"Chris, it's sensitive!" you say, clenching your muscles as he finally lets you go. Your thighs slightly bruised from his grip.

“On the floor, on your knees” He orders you, while wiping his nose from your juices, sucking it off from his fingers, his tone laced with fury.

He sits up, and you kneel on the floor. He brushes his hair back, finally looking at you.

In a swift motion, Chris unbuckled his pants, his shirt discarded carelessly on the floor. He slid down his boxers, they were just on his thighs as he approached you. He slammed his throbbing cock covered in pre-cum against your lips, a smirk spreading on his face.

He held your face, inserting a finger into your mouth to keep it open, and then slid his dick between your lips. His size was intimidating, and you gagged as he filled your mouth. Your hand instinctively wrapped around his base, to take him better.

"Yes, choke on my fucking cock, fucking brat," he hissed, his hand gently stroking your hair. Your head bobbed up and down over him, each movement taking in more of him until he slid himself out of your mouth.

“Still," he commanded. You complied, and he gripped your hair, using it as leverage to guide his movements.

He slid himself in and out of your mouth, using your throat to fuck his own cock.

“F-fuck… take me like that, you slut.” He cooed, his eyes closing in ecstasy, his head thrown back, a whimper leaving his mouth.

He slammed his tip against your pouty lips again, and he suddenly pulled out, knowing he was gonna cum, leaving your mouth empty.

"Get on the bed, angel. 'Gonna hit it raw for you," he purred, his eyes ablaze with lust as he tossed his boxers to the side.

"Spread those legs for me, hm?" he whispered. He got on the bed, crawling over you, as his lips finally met yours for the first time in the night, his tongue sliding in your mouth. He broke the kiss, and for a moment, he was silent, his eyes scanning the room. He grabbed something from the night table and then turned his attention back to you.

"So, we're gonna do something-" he started, but his words were interrupted by a soft ring from his phone. He picked it up and a smirk spread across his face.

"We're gonna show this to Matt ,so that he'll finally stop bothering my girl," he said, proud of his own idea. His phone was now recording, capturing what was happening in the room between you two. He teased you, sliding his tip through your folds, but not inserting it inside you. The anticipation building up to an unbearable level.

He finally pushed himself inside you, and your moan echoed through the room, his name escaping your lips.

"Good girl, take it like this, mhm," he cooed, his pace slow and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Please, Chris…” You purr, desperate for him to quicken his pace.

He continued moving, his thrusts gradually gaining in speed. His phone recorded every detail, the moans the whimpers could be heard, as he framed the sight of your face contorted in pleasure, then the sight of his member sliding in and out of you, glistening with your arousal. It was all on tape, so that Matt could play it, again and again if he needed to understand that you weren’t his girl. You were Chris’.

He gripped your hips, tilting your body so that he could hit that sweet spot inside you. “You need Chris, hm?" he cooed, his tone sweet and gentle. You could only respond with a soft moan, your body too focused on the pleasure coursing through it.

“Yeah- yes, please…” You lightly moan out, his hips quickening his pace as he hears you begging for it.

“Yeah? Need Chris’ big cock, huh? What you gonna do for Chris, hm?” He asks, his tone seductive and teasing, and that led you to spill another moan from your mouth.

“I’m gonna be a good girl— mphh- a good slut!” You almost scream out, not able to contain yourself at the feeling of Chris slamming himself inside you. He brings the phone to your face once again, showing the expression that’s on your face, so pleasured and then back on his cock, now drilling in you faster, covered in juices.

“Yeah? Chris’ good girl? You gonna let Chris use you?” He asks, you nod immediately, your thoughts blurred in pleasure.

“Hm? Is Chris giving you everything you need?" He questions once more, now holding the phone above his head, as if capturing a selfie, flashing a peace sign to the camera, sticking his tongue out, while his hips are ceaselessly moving within you. However, he doesn’t allow himself to show your boobs on camera. That was just his thing to see.

“Fuck Chris, yeah- mhmm…” You hum, your climax getting closer and closer, a familiar knot forming in your stomach, being completely brainfucked. All you were seeing was black, and all you felt, aside of Chris’ fat cock drilling into you, was the soaked sheets and the sweat all over your body.

"Are you tired, poor thing? Come on, gimme that leg, mhmm," he said, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder. Then he did the same with your other leg, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he was hitting your g-spot with every movement.

“Chris- just like that, fuck, yeah!” You moan desperately, his other hand gripping your hip.

“‘Feel better now, sweet thing? Worn out still and want me to fuck you, you must love this dick, don’t you angel?” He chuckled, as continued fucking you as he placed a sweetkiss on your ankle, his dick driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"See, Matt, this vision is a fucking blessing, and I get this every single night," he said into the phone, his voice laced with pride.

“I see why you wanted to see my girl like this too, but if you expect my girl like this, fucked dumb, so fucking horny you can’t expect to not see my cock stuffed inside her, y’know?” He says, his hand pressing on your stomach, knowing that’d finally make you cum.

"Shit- cumming! I'm cumming, Chris, yeah!" you finally screamed, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His name on your lips, filled the room.

“This girl goes crazy for this cock only, not the lame replicas.” He said, and then you released all over his dick, mixed liquid and thick cum coming out of you, as he pulled out of you, his phone framing every single detail.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled out, his throbbing cock glistening with your release. "Turn around, fuck- turn around now!" he ordered, his voice hoarse with arousal.

You turned around, and he stroked himself, his release painting a messy "C" on your back with his cum. "You read that, Matt? Hm? Stands for Chris," he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. His phone captured the final act, his mark on you, a declaration of ownership.

“Say hi to Matt!” He says, and you wave at him, your eyes closed. “Hi, Matt.” You say, completely worn out as he finally ended the recording and sent the unedited video to Matt without a second thought, a clear message that you were his and his alone.

He gently moved closer to you, pressing a tender kiss against your face. "You did so good f’me. So good,” he murmured appreciatively. The sudden loud knock at the door startled you, causing Chris to rise, his face appearing in the small opening of the door.

"Yes?" His voice echoing through the room.

"I feel compelled to bring this to your attention. There have been several complaints lodged regarding the level of noise coming from this area. It's becoming increasingly disruptive, so I must insist that all of you vacate the premises for now." relayed a hotel staff member from the other side of the door, his voice barely audible.

“Not gonna lie, I didn’t get shit of what you just said.” Chris says, making you chuckle while you still were coming down from your high.

"You guys need to leave. There have been complaints about the noise." the staff member clarified, his words resonating more clearly this time. Chris' face twisted into a frown.

“What?” He asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

"Do I need to call security?" The staff member questioned,warning him. Chris was quick to dismiss the threat.

"No--absolutely not. Just give us a few minutes. We need to... uhh-,” He trailed off, his gaze shifting to you, sprawled out on the bed, still recovering.

“You need to leave now," the staff member insisted. Chris slapped his thigh in frustration.

“Do I just walk out with my dick swinging from side to side, genius?" Chris shot back, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips. The staff member sighed audibly.

"Fine. You have a few minutes," he conceded, leaving Chris to close the door behind him with a resigned sigh.

matt

1 video

@inkyray @mattslolita @hysteria-things @spaznongirl @worldlxvlys @nickgetsmewetter @patscorner @luverboychris

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janaispunk · 5 months

Note

28 "No one ever cared about me like you." for Joel or Marcus Pike, please?? Thank you for writing all this amazing stuff for us <3

no one can hurt you now

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: ~1.2k

summary: You’ve been traveling through the country with Joel and Ellie. After finally arriving in the safety of Jackson, you realize how much Joel means to you.

tags/warnings: post outbreak, mentions of infected, fighting and blood, reader doesn’t value her life that much tbh, angst, anxiety, comfort, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n (please let me know if i missed something <3)

a/n: dearest anon, thank you so much for your kind words and for sending this prompt in! this started out as a drabble but got out of control, so i hope you enjoy this little fic 🫶🏻

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is amazing <3

full masterlist here / follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!

The clicker’s teeth snap at you inches away from your face, your arms straining desperately to hold the creature off. A shot rings through the air and the clicker stills as blood splatters across your face.

You push the now lifeless weight off of you and try to stand back up, your shaky legs underneath you barely cooperating.

“Thanks,” you mutter, gasping for breath.

“The fuck was that?” Joel barks, the gun still grasped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles are turning white.

“It was- running at Ellie, I just-“

You’ll admit that you hadn’t really thought it through when you lunged at the clicker that had charged in the girl’s direction without any weapons in your hands. Not her, had been the only clear thought in your head. She wasn’t replaceable.

You were.

“You just what? Thought you’d get yourself killed?”

“No! I don’t know, okay? I still bought us time, and you got it, so-”

You don’t like the way he’s glaring at you, like you did something fundamentally wrong. You took a risk, yes, but his main objective is taking the girl across the country. You’re just… there.

“So?! Fuckin’ stupid, is what it was,” he snaps before he turns around abruptly and stomps further into the abandoned house that you’re hoping to spend the night in. You wait until your legs finally stop trembling before you follow him.

It’s the middle of the night when Joel finally speaks to you again. You had settled down in one of the bedrooms on the upper floor, not before searching the house extra thoroughly after the clicker incident earlier.

You can hear Ellie’s soft snores from across the room and you would have sworn that Joel was asleep too. Your mind didn’t rest, replaying the scene over and over, the way Joel snapped at you making your chest hurt each time.

“You don’t get to not make yourself a priority, you hear me? I won’t let you.”

You flinch at the unexpected sound from his corner of the room, but his voice is gentle, like he’s approaching a scared animal.

“But Ellie-” you still try to protest.

“I care about Ellie just as much as you do.” He hesitates for a second. “But I also care about you.”

You feel heat flushing your cheeks and you avert your gaze, even though it’s too dark for him to see your face anyway.

“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, “she’s the one that matters.”

“So do you,” he grumbles.

“Not like her.”

He heaves a sigh and you hear him moving closer to you in the darkness.

“Listen to me.” His tone is gruff, but you can feel the intensity behind his words. “I couldn’t- shit, I couldn’t do this alone. Just take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree in a hushed voice.

You know that this is the closest that Joel Miller will ever get to admitting that he doesn’t hate you. You try to fight the feeling, but warmth is spreading through your chest at the thought that he actually wants you around, that he’s not just letting you tag along because he doesn’t know what else to do with you.

It’s your first real night in Jackson, the first time that you’ve arrived at a place and didn’t immediately make plans on where to go next. The first night that you’re spending in a real bed in god knows how long. The first night that you don’t have to sleep with one eye open, always waiting for the next danger to find you.

And the first night in a bed with Joel. Neither of you had protested when you were assigned to one house with him and Ellie. You know what Joel and you look like, from the outside. You don’t think that you care, not really.

The house has three bedrooms anyway, so it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you thought, until you had all said good night to each other and you were lying alone in the darkness, wide eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, as you were trying to stop the anxious shivers running through your body.

It was too quiet, the mattress too soft, the room too… empty. You had gotten used to the steady breathing of two other people around you, and now that they weren’t in the room with you, everything felt wrong. What if you woke up tomorrow to find them both dead, to find yourself alone in the world once more? How were you supposed to make sure they were safe when you weren’t with them?

Before you could overthink it, you got up, checked on Ellie who was sleeping soundly and padded over to the room Joel was in.

“Can’t sleep?” his low drawl had greeted you as soon as you cracked the door open.

You wordlessly shook your head and he sighed.

“Me neither. Doesn’t feel right like this, does it?”

That’s how you ended up under the covers next to him. No touching of course, both of you keeping a firm distance. This was just so you could both catch some sleep. Just for tonight.

Except that you’re still not able to let sleep drag you under. Your body is tense, acutely aware of his presence next to you, his body heat easily traveling the short distance between you. You could bridge it just as easily, just reach your hand out to - do what, exactly?

You huff out a breath and turn onto your side, shuffling the sheets with your movement.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is barely above a whisper and before you can open your mouth to respond, his fingers find your face and graze over your cheek in a barely there contact.

He had touched you before, of course, checking you for injuries, soothing you with a hand on your arm or a brush over your hair, but never like this. Never in the darkness of the night and never when you could sense the tension in the air between you, could almost feel his breath on your face. You have never been so acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers that’s seeping into your skin right now.

“I just- I never thanked you for taking me here, for taking care of me.”

It’s not what’s on the forefront of your mind, not the thing that’s plaguing you in this moment, but it’s still true, and much easier than admitting to him that feeling his body so close right next to yours has you practically burning up, has your fingers itching to touch him, to breathe him in.

Joel hums.

“You don’t have to. Of course I did that.”

You try swallowing the lump that suddenly builds in your throat.

“No one ever cared about me like you,” you admit in a whisper.

“Hey,” Joel mumbles, alarmed at the thickness of unshed tears in your voice, “come here, sweetheart.”

Both of his arms reach towards you and his hands splay over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you feel the tension in your body subsiding as you’re resting your head over his steady heartbeat.

“We’re safe now,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging - nothing would make me happier 🤍

#janas fics #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

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crheativity · 5 months

Note

Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?

SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!

Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.

After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.

Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.

As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.

(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)

Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.

He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.

(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)

Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.

At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.

Just like you, he hopes.

Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.

If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.

If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?

Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.

Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.

Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.

Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.

He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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vixensbrainrotts · 5 months

Text

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

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reiderwriter · 6 months

Text

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

1K notes · View notes

junislqve · 7 days

Text

ᯓ seasons — ot7

syn i used to hate it, until i found out it was your favorite thing. (1504 words)

pairs ot7 + reader | cw petnames — mlist navi

note synopsis was actually more of a prompt but err i hope you guys enjoy anyway >< also im writing this half asleep so im sorry if there are any mistakes !! everybody thank peng cause without her this wouldn’t even be here rn

LEE HEESEUNG

“why don’t you warm me up?”

heeseung never liked winter. he hated the coldness and the gloom that came with it. ever since he was young, he’d stay cooped up in his room refusing to go out and play with the snow.

even as an adult, heeseung would be more silent during the season, chattering his teeth even though he wore about a dozen coats.

well that was until he knew you. you were the complete opposite. you loved the coldness and the festive feeling of winter. finding the beauty in the falling snowflakes.

ever since heeseung started dating you, your love for winter created a small fondness in him. he loves it when he gets to see your pretty smile and your nose red-tinted from the cold.

he loves it most when you both would take the train back after a day out and you would fall asleep on his shoulder, hands tucked on his to keep yourself warm.

PARK JONGSEONG

jay had never really been picky with anything. having being the cook back at home and even now cooking for you made him accustom to people’s likes.

one thing, however, that never had he enjoyed was caffeine. he hated the bitter aftertaste of it. the smell that always lingers.

but when you once bought him an americano back when you both were still friends, he downed the whole thing. making you laugh, he liked hearing your laugh, it was addicting. he saw how you were savoring the taste after every sip. thinking that if you liked it, it shouldn’t be that bad.

and now, every morning before you woke up, he’d add coffee-brewing to his routine. making both of you coffee before heading for work. but really, he just loved seeing you hum in delight after a sip, a small smile on your lips.

“you’re so good at this, babe” you say, complimenting his brewing skill.

“why don’t you give me a kiss for it then”

SIM JAEYUN

you loved musicals. from hamilton to phantom of the opera, you’ve always loved watching them if they played in theaters near you.

jake, however, would rather spend his time playing soccer or watching a movie at the comfort of his home. he didn’t find musicals interesting, refusing whenever his friends offered to go watch one together.

however, when you offered, he found himself sitting near front seats in a large theatre. completely invested in the story line. he took down internal notes in his head knowing you’d start talking about it the moment you both walked out the theatre, just so he could give his own perspective in case you asked.

he would listen to you talk all day if it meant having to watch musicals often. asking you to repeat things to see your smile grow. his eyes linger on you, observing the pretty smile you have and the excited glint in your eyes as you talked away.

“wait, can you explain again about what happened to her in the end?”

PARK SUNGHOON

possibly the biggest hater of mint chocolate chip ice cream, sunghoon would not get near it. if he had a choice, he’d rather choose something more simple like vanilla.

but all in all, sunghoon never really liked ice cream. he doesn’t understand the enjoyment people get whenever they’d crave it.

apparently all it took for him to finally try the flavor he most despised was for you to (barely) beg him to hang out with you. he was too flustered when you asked him what flavor he wanted and when you asked if he wanted the same order as you did, he just nodded. barely registering what you said.

he unfortunately did not realize this until he scooped up a spoonful of the ice cream and tasted the familiar, yet, unfavorable taste. however, after much thought and probably the sweet smile you were giving him, he concluded that it didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would.

after dating, sunghoon would often pick up ice cream for you two after a long week, eating it together while huddled up watching a movie in your living room.

the taste of it was always there, but he understood why you adored the flavor. it growing on him more than he’d expected, especially when you’re the one he’s eating it with.

KIM SUNOO

being alone creeps him out. he gets terrified if he was ever left home alone. that’s one of the reasons why he loved going out.

he finds it comforting being surrounded by people, chatting along with anyone and everyone, catching up with them.

before you were in his life, he felt like being alone further makes him feel unwanted. busying himself with anything if, in a case, he were to be left alone.

when you did come into his life, though, it was like you rearranged the meaning of being alone. you love the peace and quiet of being alone. the silence that seems to fill the room letting you breath for a moment.

technically, he still didn’t really like being alone. sometimes, he’d call you to his apartment to ‘be alone’ with you. none of you speaking any words to each other, just laying down and listening to each other’s breathing. so many words unsaid but the feelings able to be conveyed through gestures.

you’d taught him how to enjoy the quietness. he finds that when he’s alone he felt more calm and centered. still, as a person who loves talking, he would always prefer being with people.

but, you redefined the meaning of being alone and he loves you for it. he loves the way you look happy and at peace all the time, he loves it when you both be alone together.

YANG JUNGWON

“babe, can you get my socks pretty please?”

as a person who gets cold easily, you love bundling yourself up before sleeping. your necessities were your 2 blankets, a pillow for your side and socks.

jungwon always found it iffy to wear socks in bed. even if he were to buy new ones to wear only in his house, he still wouldn’t like the feeling of it.

that was until he was introduced to you by a mutual friend. when you two started talking, he found your many quirks adorable.

however, one that he only found out when you started dating, was that you loved wearing socks to sleep. his horror back then showed on his face when you asked him if he were okay.

overtime, you gradually convinced him. especially if it was winter and the coldness would go up by twice the usual weather. being used to your routine, he didn’t even realize he started wearing socks to bed until you pointed it out when he was sleeping over.

the realization he had was baffling, but as he accustomed to it he didn’t find it weird at all. he would start buying you both matching socks when he was out and was thinking of you.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“let’s get back to bed, love”

everyone knows riki is not a morning person. he hated waking up early more than anyone. it’s not weird to find him coming out of his room at 1 pm.

by 1pm, you’ve probably already went to a cafe, had breakfast, catches up with a friend, and had a 2-hour lecture.

when you got involved with riki, you tried your hardest to wake him up early. his friends had told you to give up many times saying they’ve tried over and over again.

but miraculously, on your 7th try, he woke up. although, grumbling, he started sitting up and asking what you were doing at his dorms.

the first time you tried you were just there to drop off some food to your big brother. but when you knocked and no one answered, you were about to leave. until one of his dorm mates opened the door to let you in.

they were all stood crowded in front of his room, shouting at him to wake up, but he never moved. still sound asleep after a whole debate session ensued in the dorms.

after your brother and his friends collectively decide to leave him alone instead of trying to wake him up, you put it upon yourself to try as well. little did you know, he’d heard all your wake up calls, just too afraid to face you, seeing his bedhead and all.

7th times the charm however, when he finally braved himself to wake up and reply to you, although his heart pounding abnormally when you smiled at him.

when you two started dating, he couldn’t not wake up before you. much more aware of his surroundings when he’s around you.

riki however is riki. if he were to wake up earlier, then you would also have to wake up later sometimes because of him. deciding to stay in for a bit longer when he asks to, surrounded by his warmth.

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ithebookhoarder · 15 days

Note

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

Masterlist

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

Text

THE RESIGNATION

Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.

Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

-------

*Buzzzzzzzzz*

“Yes.”

“Y/N is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.

“Sit,” he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.

For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.

There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.

“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.

He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”

Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.

“Well?” he prods.

You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”

“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.

“But, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,” you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. It’s this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.

“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."

“No—”

"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.

"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”

"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. “I respect that,” he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.

“No, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as you’re already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. You’ll also be given a new title.”

"Raf—"

"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotel—every need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thing—" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.

"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”

Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.

"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”

"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."

You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."

"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.

Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."

Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.

You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.

Rafe smiles in approval.

"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.

"I… I'm not—"

"Do it," he interrupts firmly.

You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."

You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.

Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”

You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.

He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.

"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.

Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.

Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.

Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.

It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.

Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.

"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.

"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.

"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.

“You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.” His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.

Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, he’s acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yours—fucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.

Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.

"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.

Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.

"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.

"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.

"I didn't realize—"

"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."

“I thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family business—how would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."

Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"

His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."

He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad business—besides, I doubt my heart can take it."

You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say you’ll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. “Fine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."

With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.

--------------

A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️

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adirtylittleheart · 15 days

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A GOOD, KINDA BAD GUY Matt finds someone who is stuck in an elevator. Concerned, he sits with her to keep her mind off her situation and learns some things about her. What happens when those elevator doors open just enough to let him slip inside? Warning: 18+ All are over 18 in my writings. Smut, Fucking, P in V, Squirting, Cream pie, Throat grabbing, Cocksure Matt! Matt X OC Notes: Listened to 'We are scientists - Nobody move, Nobody get hurt' ''My body is your body, I won't tell anybody if you wanna use my body, go for it.'' Enjoy!

A GOOD, KINDA BAD GUY Matt walked through the deserted, dimly lit hallway, on his way to the elevator. The thick, heavy carpet underfoot, was patterned with dark colours of burgundy and royal blue with shades of neutrals. It was meant to disguise dirt and dust from heavy foot fall, along with keeping noise to a minimum. The walls were pained in a neutral fawn shade, that held art on simple canvas. None of them really matched but Matt shrugged his shoulders, as he turned the corner that would take him to the two set’s of elevators.

Unbeknownst to Matt, Zarah had entered the elevator a few minutes earlier and slumped against the mirrored interior. Since it was her last day at her job, she stayed late to see that everything was in order and up to date for the next employer taking over her position. It had been a long day; it had been pouring rain, her Uber driver had hit on her prompting her to get out a block sooner than her actual location, and she had to take an Uber because her car battery was flat. All she wanted to do was relax in a tub full of bubbles and then climb into her bed. Life had other plans though, and the elevator came to a jolting halt.

Matt pushed the down button between the two elevators, illuminating it in a glowing green. He tilted his head up expecting to see which floor the elevators were currently on and which direction they were travelling but instead, he found himself looking at a blank screen. He cocked his head to the side a little, waiting to see if there was any indication the cars were running. There was no sound to denote they were even functioning. He thought it was strange since they had been working only an hour or so before. Matt let out an audible sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned. He mulled over the thought if he wanted to just go back to the apartment or if he wanted to pursue his original plan; going for a midnight walk.

As he took a step forward, the doors behind him made a clanking noise, and then they begin to creak open. Matt glanced over his shoulder but the doors stopped, only leaving a small, narrow opening that he guessed would barely fit a hand through. The lights in the elevator were low and soft music floated out, along with a soft, flowery scent.

‘’Oh my god,’’ he heard a soft voice say, ‘’please!’’

Hands slid between the opening of the doors, and long, elegant fingers with perfectly manicured nails closed around a door, ‘’open you…motherfucker! I can’t with this tonight,’’ the soft but now agitated voice said. When the doors didn’t move, a groan escaped through the doors and the fingers let go and then disappeared back into the elevator.

Then he heard what he thought was crying. He couldn’t be 100 percent sure, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if she was crying. As he turned to the elevator again, he wondered if the voice was agitated or rather, upset. Maybe a mixture of both since being stuck in an elevator could have had several emotions surge through the body. The nervousness of being confined and closed up in a steel box for an extended period of time was not something pleasant to contemplate, let alone actually being in that situation.

Matt stopped in font of the doors, not wanting to leave anyone that was in distress, let alone stuck in an elevator, alone, in the middle of the night.

‘’Hey,’’ Matt said, ‘’are…are you okay?’’

There was a brief silence, then a sniff before she answered, ‘’not really; I’m stuck in an elevator.’’

‘’Yeah, I can kinda tell…that’s why I’m asking,’’ Matt said, concerned, ‘’did you try the emergency button? Or the one with the bell on it?’’

‘’It doesn’t work,’’ she replied and sighed, ‘’ and I’ve got my finger on the bell right now… nothing. This is the third time I’m getting stuck in it. I just have to wait until it feels like working.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Matt said and put a hand up on the cool metal door. ‘’Do you live here?’’

Again there was a brief silence and he wondered if she was was having a difficult time in there or was she shy and cautious? ‘’Yes,’’ she said eventually, her voice shaky from crying, ‘’I live here.’’

‘’Why don’t you tell me about it…this place…maybe something about yourself?’’ Matt said, turning around. He then sat down on the thick carpet, leaning against the elevator. If he couldn’t help her, he could at the very least keep her distracted until the elevator decided to work or help came along from other services.

‘’You don’t have to stay and keep me company. I appreciate it, but -’’ she was saying when Matt cut her off

‘’Maybe you’re keeping me company. I was going to go out for a walk because I couldn’t sleep, and I don’t know if I feel like walking down 30 flights of stairs,’’ Matt said

‘’We’re on the thirtieth floor?’’ she asked

‘’Yup,’’ Matt said

‘’I get so scared every time this happens,’’ she said barely audible as her voice cracked and Matt knew she had started crying again.

‘’Oh, hey,’’ Matt said, turning himself to sit parallel with the elevator, ‘’you’ll be okay. Just talk to me. Tell me…what’s your name?’’

‘’Zarah,’’ she replied, ‘’what’s yours?’’

‘’’I’m Matt. That’s a nice name…I’ve never heard it before,’’ he said

‘’Thank you, everyone just calls me Zar. I like your name too. Matt is a solid, strong name.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ Matt said with a light chuckle. That had actually made him feel good.

‘’Do you live here?’’ she asked

‘’No, my brothers and I are visiting a friend for a few days. We got a van and we’re doing a summer trip across the US and staying with friends we know in some cities so we can get a little relief from being cooped up in a van all the time. We left Boston and we’re going back home to LA,’’ Matt said and she gasped softly

‘’I’m moving to LA in two days. My uncle is a real estate tycoon, so to speak, and he asked me to run one of his offices there. So you said we’re on the thirtieth floor?’’ Zarah asked

‘’Yeah. What floor do you live on?’’ Matt asked

‘’I’m in apartment 69, so one up,’’ Zarah replied

‘’That’s a good number,’’ Matt said softly and Zarah started giggling softly, making Matt smile. He didn’t think she would hear or get it if she did. Not so quickly anyways, but she was quick. The giggling turned into laughter.

‘’I can’t disagree. It’s a good number,’’ she said and then fell silent, her laughter suddenly stopping. Matt frowned. He wanted to hear more of her laughter, he voice, and her sweet, infectious giggling. When she had abruptly stopped laughing, it felt like someone had snatched Matt and put him out into the cold on a winter night.

He heard some noises – a sigh, a click of her tongue, a frustrated moan, and then a sound he knew really well; the sound of fingers tapping on a phone keyboard. Just about anyone could recognize that sound.

‘’You okay in there?’’ Matt asked and leaned against the frame of the elevator, stretching his legs out as he stared at a mark on the opposite frame, just above his shoe.

‘’I’m…yes, thank you,’’ she said and silence once again fell around them

Matt had just opened his mouth to say something to keep her from thinking of her situation when she began singing softly, but it was the words she was singing that had Matt snapping his head up.

‘’Not like this, I’m not going out This is not love, I’m a glorified doorstop sticking my foot out for you..’’

‘’You listen to Domonic Fike?’’ Matt asked, sitting up straight

‘’Yes,’’ her small voice said and he could tell there was a smile forming on her face, ‘’you do too?’’

‘’Yeah…that’s my favourite song!’’ Matt exclaimed

‘’This is amazing, I don’t know that many people who listen to him,’’ Zarah said and then sighed again. He could her her standing up. Then, there was some feint noises he couldn’t put his finger on what they were, but he knew she started pacing. He closed his one eye to try and peer through the narrow gap of the doors to see her, but he couldn’t make anything out. He heard her typing on her phone again and then sniff.

‘’Zarah?’’ Matt asked

‘’It’s so hot in here. Is it possible to loose air or am I just freaking out? I haven’t been stuck in here for this long,’’ she said and Matt could hear the panic rising in her voice. It was higher pitched than before and she was also talking at a rapid speed. Matt had to think fast to try and piece together what she had actually said.

‘’Zarah, you won’t run out of air, okay? I won’t let that happen. I know the space between the doors is minimal but it’s better than nothing,’’ Matt said and stood up.

‘’It’s so hot,’’ she said again and he could hear her blowing air from her mouth to try and keep calm

‘’I…I don’t know what to say…take something off…I guess?’’ Matt said and ran a hand through his hair, not believing he actually said that. Ah, fuck. His mind reeled as he wondered if he fucked up. He really liked her, and was hoping at the end of this, they could at the very least see each other but he wouldn’t have been surprised if she told him to outright to fuck off.

‘’I kinda have,’’ she said in almost a whisper

Matt smiled, relieved she had spoken to him and the thought that she was a little risky and taken something off was a little arousing. ‘’It’s alright. Look I’m going to put my hand through the space and if you feel like you need to, and you’re freaking out, just hold it okay?’’

‘’No, Matt,’’ she protested as he slid his hand through the gap. It was a tight squeeze but he managed.

‘’It’s okay,’’ he persisted

‘’No, it’s not. If the doors close, it will literally break every bone in your hand. I will not allow that,’’ she said

‘’I’ll risk it. I don’t like hearing you upset,’’ he said and then he felt something on his fingers. It was warm and wet and as fast as it came, it disappeared again. It started with his little finger and ran up to the index, causing Matt to retract his hand.‘’What the fuck was that?’’ he asked

‘’I licked your fingers. Don’t put them in here again,’’ she said and Matt burst out laughing. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t that.

‘’You think that’s going to stop me?’’ he asked

‘’It should. I bite too. Those are some nice long fingers though! Don’t tempt me to do anything else with them, Matt,’’ she responded and sucked in a breath, ‘’look Matt, I appreciate you so much. You actually have no idea how much but I can not let you do that. You will lose your hand if these doors suddenly shut.’’

‘’Alright. I do need my fingers,’’ he said

‘’Yeah. Do you wanna tell me what for?’’ she asked

Matt laughed, ‘’use your imagination,’’ he said

Zarah bit her bottom lip, holding back that she already did. She had yet to see the man himself but, she had had already envisioned him. He was so sweet and kind. He had a voice that made her stomach flip every time he spoke and the fact that he was so concerned for a complete stranger made him even more appealing. Then she saw his fingers and she was happy that he hadn’t heard the little moan that came from her.

‘’So this elevator thing happens often?’’ Matt asked, pulling her from her thoughts

‘’Mhm. This used to be a hotel but they renovated and made it into apartments. It’s an old building, and though it’s been made into modern apartments, it still runs on the ancient system that ran the hotel. It’s a beautiful place and the apartments are huge but there are problems. This elevator does this…every 3 or so months. They can’t find a fault after the elevators get going again so technically they can’t fix the problem…’’ she said and trailed her sentence off when Matt heard her phone ding faintly. Again she sighed and typed something in response to the message.

‘’How long have you been staying here? I think my friend only moved in a month ago,’’ Matt said

‘’A year,’’ she replied shortly and her voice hitched again

‘’Zarah, why do you keep upset every time you message?’’ Matt asked, realising that every time he had heard her fingers racing across her screen typing, she got upset.

‘’I’ve had a bad day. I…I broke up my ex a few days ago and now he just won’t leave me alone. Today has been particularly bad. He keeps sending me these messages that are…’’ she said and took a deep breath. Matt waited for her to continue but instead he heard a whimpering cry.

Matt was slightly alarmed at how much he felt his heart tugging for her, and at how much he wanted to protect her. He heard her phone ding again and she let out a tiny sob. He hated that she was trying to hide her hurt and crying from him, but he also understood that sometimes people found it difficult to show those emotions openly.

‘’Zarah, pass me your phone,’’ Matt said

‘’Why?’’ she asked

‘’Do you trust me?’’ Matt asked

She pondered for a moment and nodded, not thinking that Matt couldn't see her. ‘’Zar?’’ Matt called

‘’Oh. Yes, I trust you. You wanted to lose a hand because of me…yes I trust you,’’ she said with a shaky voice

Matt laughed, ‘’okay then, pass me your phone. Does he know you’re moving and where too?’’

‘’He knows I’m moving but he doesn’t know where to. He doesn’t even know my uncle asked me to work for him. He spends all his time practicing with his so-called band with delusions of grandeur. He is always walking on a dead end street even when there are side roads leading to much better things. I took care of him for a year, paying all his bills. I haven't even been with him in 6 months...you know... because I don't trust him but I was still playing along. I’m so stupid. I always fall for the bad boys that are no good for me. Now I’ve put my foot down and decided to move on and he thinks I’m the worst person to roam the earth,’’ she said

‘’You’re not stupid, Zara,’’ Matt said softly, ‘’it seems to me you had a kind heart and were willing to help someone out. It’s his loss and he knows it. He knows you’re not losing anything but you’re gaining a lot by looking out for yourself. You’re also not the worst person…he wants you to be the worst person in his story now and will probably leave out all you did for him, but it’s not going to affect you because you’ll be happy…maybe in a relationship with someone that will appreciate you and actually look after you for a change. Maybe the next guy will be a good guy mixed with a touch of bad but only the good kind of bad.’’

‘’Good kind of bad?’’ she asked quizzically

‘’Yes, the good kind of bad,’’ Matt laughed, ‘’though maybe you have never come across those kinds of guys. Again, use your imagination.’’

Zara laughed, ‘’Ooooh I get you! That…does sound so nice,’’ she said seductively. Matt wasn’t sure it was supposed to come that way, but it did and it was alarmingly provocative to him.

‘’Pass me your phone,’’ Matt said again. ‘’You need to change your number tomorrow.’’

‘’Yes. First thing,’’ she said and pushed her phone through the door.

Matt took the phone – it was unlocked and an unread message was alerting. Matt quickly opened it before the phone locked again, and the messages opened up. He read a few messages and took a breath as he shook his head. No wonder she was crying and upset and now, he knew why she sang wurli. The guy was rude, belittling, vial, controlling, and commanding in the messages. While Matt had thought about sending him a text back to tell him to stay away from Zarah, he also knew it wouldn’t help. Guys like him cared about no one but themselves. Guys like him…were all mouth and no action. She was far too good for him.

‘’Zar…I was going message him but it would be fruitless. The best thing you can do with a guy like this is cut him off. Don’t respond. I might be wrong, but I’m 99 percent sure if you stop responding, he won’t message you again. It’s like…you’re feeding the ego in him, if that makes sense,’’ Matt said

‘’Okay,’’ she said softly and Matt was just going to push the phone through the door when the doors silently slid open. Both Matt and Zarah looked at the doors, then at each other in shock that the doors were opening. She was sitting on the floor at the back of the elevator, her eyes wide, her mouth falling open. As soon as they were wide enough for one person, maybe two if lucky, to get through, they began closing again.

Matt’s mind raced – there was no time for her to push herself up from the floor, move forward and get out of the elevator, let alone gather her things. Nope, there was only one solution and that was for Matt enter the elevator. As the doors were closing he, turned his body and slipped through the narrow space just in time before they closed.

‘’Shit,’’ Matt said through a laugh, only making it just in time. He pulled his eyes off the doors and turned them to Zarah.

‘’You,’’ he said softly, a smile forming on his lips as she got to her feet.

She bit her bottom lip and was going to reach for her jeans when the elevator once again stopped. The halt, so unexpected had Zarah falling into him as she lost her balance at the same time he reached out to keep her from falling.

‘’Shit, sorry,’’ Zarah said and looked up up him as she straightened up

Matt shook his head slowly, left to right, ‘’what for?’’ he asked as their eyes connected.

Zarah swallowed hard and took a step back, but immediately regretted it. His arm around her waist, his hand softly touching her slim hip had felt right. So right, but why? They had only just met. However, he was the first man she had met who exuded sex from every pore. He was ridiculously good looking…hot…sexy…she stared, but not meaning to. His eyes were gorgeous, his features so strong and chiselled. His most kissable lips and straight nose tied together to form perfection. He had pierced ears…a weakness she had with men.

As she stared, so did he. His eyes raked up and down her body, his smile getting wider and wider with each second that passed. She was slightly shorter than he was, with big eyes that, although red from crying, were gorgeous. Her long wavy cherry auburn hair framed her heart-shaped face perfectly in layers while her full lips and nose were perfectly proportioned. She clearly worked out with her tight, toned body. She was only wearing a pair of black and pink panties, riding low on her hips, and a black fitted t-shirt that was straining against her breasts. Matt could see her hard nipples outlined by the fabric, indicating she was wearing no bra. His semi turned into a full-on hard-on. His eyes veered to the floor and saw her jeans lying in a pile next to her handbag and a bra that matched her panties on top of it. A bottle of perfume lay behind the jeans along with a note pad and pen. Her empty pink Converse were neatly together by the jeans. Where she had been sitting was a denim jacket laid out with tissues balled up, scattered to the left. On the other side was a Yeti water bottle.

When his eyes finally met hers again, she opened her mouth to talk but nothing came out. Matt let out a laugh and took a step closer to her.

‘’So, I’m Matt,’’ he said wanting to break the comfortable but long silence.

Zarah smiled and sucked in a breath, surprising herself – had she even been breathing since he joined her in the elevator?

‘’Sorry, I’m…half dressed, it’s just been so hot in here. I even sprayed perfume to get some cool relief but it was such a short reprieve. It lasted a full second. But I don’t usually walk around like this,’’ she said

Matt shrugged his shoulders, ‘’I didn’t for a second think you did but, maybe you should,’’ he said

Zarah laughed. There it was! That laugh that had Matt aroused, that no other woman had ever achieved.

‘’So I guess the elevator’s stuck again,’’ Matt said, taking another step towards her.

Zarah nodded. Oh god, she was stuck in an elevator with the sexiest guy she ever laid eyes on, who was willing to sit and help her through it…who was willing to crush his hand for her. Then, her breath got caught in her throat as Matt took his jack off and slung it to the floor on top of her jacket. Her eyes widened at the tattoos on his arm and her eyes shifted to his groin. He was definitely hard and he clearly had a package to be proud of. She bit her bottom lip and smiled, but she quickly lifted her eyes up to meet his.

That’s all Matt had needed to know; she was decidedly in for this. ''You’re right, it is hot in here,’’ he said with a grin that made her moan internally. That grin would be the thing to unglue her.

‘’How long do think we’ll be stuck in here for?’’ he asked and removed his air forces heel to toe, kicking them off carelessly, not even bothering to unlace them. One landed near her jeans, while the other landed on it’s side near the door.

‘’I…it seems to have a mind of it’s own,’’ she stuttered and closed her eyes briefly feeling herself getting wetter and wetter as she felt desire and lust rise with his intoxication.

He lost his socks next. ‘’I have a confession to make,’’ he said and licked his lips, ‘’I saw you this morning in the lobby. I was waiting for my brother to tie his shoes when I saw you rushing to the door and slipped out of the building but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since. I don’t know why. I think your beauty captured me. I wanted to go for a walk tonight because I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t sleep because I was wondering who you were, and if I’d ever see you again. Then this elevator thing happened and I got to know you – a faceless stranger, but you’re as beautiful inside as you are out. Strange how life works sometimes.’’

‘’You’re my good, kinda bad guy,’’ she whispered and her mouth curved into a devilish grin

‘’Let’s find out,’’ Matt said and slid a hand onto her neck, his thumb brushing over her cheek before he smiled and pulled her to his lips. Matt was sure to take it slow, he teased her with his tongue and played across the seam of her lips. He tasted her, moved his mouth across her cheek to her ear, and kissed her gently there and behind it. He enjoyed her as she moved her head to give him access. He kissed down the column of her throat to her neck, found a spot on her neck that caused her to shiver under his mouth and then he slid back up to her mouth. Her lips were slightly parted now and Matt bit lightly on her bottom lip, testing her, and when a moan escaped her, he smiled inwardly. His tongue scraped across her teeth and he gently touched the tip of her tongue with his. She smiled before she pushed her tongue into his mouth. She knew that was good guy Matt. She knew good guy Matt, he was sweet, kind, soft, and caring, but she wanted to see bad guy Matt now... all while bad boy Matt wanted to be freed from his restraints. When Matt grabbed a fist full of her hair she gasped in surprise but melted into him as he deepened the kiss. Holy shit he was a good kisser! If he was half that good in bed, she knew she had a winner.

When the kiss ended, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, breathing deeply from the kiss.

‘’Are there camera’s in here?’’ he asked, his eyes darting around the elevator.

‘’Broken, like everything else,’’ she said and pulled her own t-shirt off, her breasts bouncing free

‘’Anyone ever tell you, you have perfect tits and a perfect kisser?’’ he asked as he lost his shorts, setting his hard dick free

‘’Damn,’’ she whispered more to herself than him. ‘’Anyone ever tell you that you have a perfect dick?’’ she asked, with a smirk not able to take her eyes of his rock hard, straight cock that she couldn’t wait to taste and wrap her lips around

‘’I don’t care about anyone else,’’ he said before his head descended for another kiss. This kiss wasn’t like the first. This one was hungry, needy, probing and hot as a hand slipped into her thick mass of hair and his fingers curled through it to deepen the kiss and to let her know he was in control. She moaned into his mouth as a reward and his hands then slid down her back and cupped her taut ass cheeks, pulling her even closer. He wanted to feel every inch of her velvety skin against his. He pulled from the kiss and dropped his head to clamp onto one of her nipples, driving her wild. His hands went down to her panties and he pushed what little material there was down her sides.

‘’You sure you want this?’’ he breathed, lifting his head, his lips so close to hers again, they brushed as he spoke.

‘’Uh-ha,’’ she answered simply, unable to form words as his fingers brushed over her smooth pussy. Her breathing elevated with anticipation, her breasts pushing against his chest with each deep breath. He grinned and began creeping his fingers inside her wet pussy. She trembled and moaned…then whimpered when he stuck a second finger inside her, stretching her. She threw her head back - he was not a beginner; he used his two middle fingers not his index and middle.

‘’You’re a tight little one,’’ he whispered close to her ear sending a shiver through her body. He pulled his fingers out and lightly put them to her clit sending mini explosions through her brain.

‘’Well? You didn’t quite answer me. Do you want this? If you don’t answer me, I’ll know not to continue,’’ he said in a low voice this time

‘’Yes!’’ she said throwing her head forward, ‘’oh fuck yes please…I want it…need it. You. Please don’t stop, Matt,’’ she said almost breathlessly

As she said the words, he began rubbing her sensitive clit. The sensations were slowly starting to wave through her body, then she felt the big wave approaching, wanting to come crashing down. She gripped his shoulders and started to shake when he entered his middle finger inside her again. Her muscles contracted around his finger, then he entered his ring finger and she soared. She was so close.

‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ she breathed, pushing herself down onto his hand

‘’Not until I’m inside of you,’’ he said, taking his fingers out of her. With her legs weak and wobbly, he slid an arm around her and pulled her close to him. She felt his solid dick press on her stomach, his pre-cum smearing on her hot skin. The coolness of the liquid against her hot skin, and thought of all his pre-cum caused her to moan.

‘’Fuck me,’’ she said through gritted teeth

‘’That’s all I needed to hear,’’ he said and put his hands on her ass cheeks and lifted her up as she wrapped her legs around him then kissed him. He took a few steps and slammed her into the wall next to the car operating panel. One of the first things he had done when he got into the elevator was to observe everything – the mirror at the back of the elevator had a handle bar but the two side panels did not. She smiled into the kiss and ground against him, then he moved his mouth, kissing her jaw line and then down her neck as she arched her back and tilted her head back. His chain with a horse on it, dangled down and rested on her hot skin. The coolness of it made her arch her back even more and Matt pulled his lips from her neck.

‘’Fuck, put me inside you,’’ he breathed and Zarah reached between their bodies and curled her hand around his thick, long dick and lifted her self slightly. She put him at her pussy entrance and dropped herself down, slowly sliding onto his perfect dick.

‘’Oh fuck yes!’’ she cried surprisingly loudly but Matt loved a vocal woman. He sucked in a breath through his jaw clenching at the tightness and the amazing feeling of her wet, hot silky pussy.

He took his one hand off her ass, feeling secure she had her legs wrapped around his waist tight enough and that she was leaning her shoulders blades against the wall. He grabbed both her wrists and lifted her arms up, pinning them to the wall with one hand as he drove in deep into her.

‘’Oh god that’s deep,’’ Zarah breathed

‘’You feel fucking amazing, and you’re so fucking gorgeous,’’ Matt said as she clamped around him, her pussy warm, wet and inviting as he stretched her.

Her breathing picked up, as he felt her muscles starting flutter around his dick. Her chest heaving, she whimpered and arched her back at the pressure on her arms, displaying her breasts so beautifully he couldn't help but suck and nibble on them. She moaned again, and he tightened his grip on her arms.

‘’Oh fuck,’’ she groaned and pushed herself into the wall, ‘’I’m gonna cum.’’

She was at his mercy, he was totally in control and she loved it. This is what men were supposed be like – a gentleman out side the room and a beast inside it. This is what Matt was trying to prove to her and she was more than happy for him to prove it to her over and over again.

‘’Just cum for me baby. Cum all over my dick,’’ he said in a low voice that sent a shiver straight to her spine and she did.

With an ear shattering scream, she came as it rocked through her body. She trembled and shook, surprising Matt as how strong her orgasm was. A smile spread across his handsome face as he felt a splash against his groin and her pussy held him a vice like grip. He felt her legs starting to weaken with the orgasm ravaging her body, so he leg go of her wrists and placed his hand back on her tight little ass.

She brought her arms down and draped them around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder, trying to catch her breath. ‘’Your dick is amazing,’’ she said and lifted it with a smile on her lips.

‘’And you’re fucking gorgeous,’’ he said and captured her lips as he kept slamming into her, never missing a beat. He would change the pace at times but never missed a beat. The moans and grunts that came from him was only a further turn on for her as wave after wave hit her and rolled into one another as soon as one orgasm stopped, another rolled in and washed over her.

The sounds of his cock pounding into her wet pussy and his balls slapping her ass echoed off the elevator walls, mixing with their moans. A fine sheen of sweat on both their bodies glimmered in the dim light and there was nothing that could have stopped either of them, not even if the elevator decided to start up again.

Matt felt the orgasms starting to weaken her even more so but he knew she didn’t want to stop. While his legs could support them both, there was also a factor of her contributing by distributing her weight onto his hips as much as possible but she just couldn’t anymore. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt in any way, so he slowly pulled his throbbing dick from her.

‘’Wha…what’s wrong,’’ she asked, concerned as she lowered her legs

Matt laughed, his arm around her waist still holding her tight to him, ‘’absolutely nothing is wrong. Everything is right.’’

Zarah smiled and then squealed as he smacked her ass. She giggled and bit her bottom lip as Matt lifted a hand and pushed some hair that had plastered onto her cheek with all the sweat as he lowered his lips and kissed her forehead and then her lips.

He turned her around in his arms and pointed at the hand railing, ‘’bend over and hold onto that. It’s a little more stability for you,’’ he said and she smiled widely at him, eagerly which excited him even more.

She bent forward, her ass in the air and Matt let out a moan at the fantastic view right in front of him. She had the most perfect round ass with a smooth, pink pussy glistening with their juices. He marveled at her in awe at the way her body dipped and bent. With her body, the way she moved, and how flexible she was, he wondered if she was a dancer or did ballet. He made a mental note to ask her because he wanted to find out more about her. He wanted to know everything about her.

Zarah looked in the mirror right before her, at their reflections and smiled as he pushed himself back into her. She gasped in pleasure and he moaned, throwing his head back. Fuck he looked good! He went all the way in, hilting inside and bottoming out drawing groans from each them. When he brought his head back down, he caught her in the mirror and smiled slowly. He gave a nod and she let out a seductive moan as he began to pound into her. She dropped her head as he bottomed out again and when she saw the view from that angle she felt her legs buckle but Matt held onto her hips. It was such an amazing view she felt another strong orgasm coming on.

‘’Oh fuuuuck, Matt,’’ she said and held on tighter to the bar

‘’Yeah, I’m not gonna last much longer,’’ he responded breathing hard and their eyes connected in the mirror again.

‘’Oh my god, oh fuck…yes…yes..yes…’’ Zarah shouted then cried out in a lengthy moan as she spiralled out of control. An intensity hit her stronger than she had ever felt before. Her body was consumed by a blissful yet powerful wave as pleasure sparked through her body. Matt, looked on as her pussy squirted all over his cock. He watched her writhe, and he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. His fast and furious fucking was replaced by long, hard, and deliberate strokes. With every stroke he ground himself into her, making sure his cock owned every inch of her pussy. He leaned over Zarah and placed his hand around her neck, then pulled her up causing her pussy to grip him tighter. ‘’You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,’’ he said and she felt his dick twitch deep inside of her as he let out a whimper that turned into an animalist growl as he shot load after load into her pulsing pussy. His cumming, moaning, voice, and his hand around her throat made her cum one last time. She slumped against him and looked in the mirror again. They were a mess but they were a hot fucking mess. Both of them were breathing hard and he let go of her throat as she went back to her original position. Matt pulled his still-hard cock from her and she let out a groan when he pushed a finger into her and hooked out some of their combined cum. He leaned over her again, holding his finger in front of her mouth.

Their eyes connected once again in the mirror, ‘’next time I wanna cum in your mouth,’’ he said and she opened her mouth and willingly took the cum and sucked it off his finger. She smiled and licked her lips.

‘’Nothing would make me happier,’’ she said and purred like a kitten licking her lips again. It really was good.

The elevator suddenly jolted again and began moving. Matt burst out laughing and pushed his lips to hers quickly and both got up to get dressed. In their rush to put their clothes back on, they only glanced at each other and smiled.

When it stopped, the doors swooshed open like they were in perfect working order and had never broken down. Matt took her hand in his and pulled her out of the elevator.

‘’Do you know where we are?’’ Matt asked

‘’My floor, where it was originally supposed to stop,’’ she said noticing a familiar looking plant near the elevator doors.

Matt nodded and stepped closer to her and cupped her cheeks with both hands then tilted her head up. He smiled down at her, ‘’I really need to get cleaned up so I can go back or my brothers will call the troops out to look for me. I don’t want to leave here though and not know what going to happen,’’ he said and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, ‘’I really…really like you Zar.’’

Zarah smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. ‘’I really…really like you too, Matt. I think you’re my good but with a little bad kinda guy.’’ Matt laughed, ‘’yeah, I think so. How about I came to your place later…and we try your apartment number out and move that to LA when we’re both there?’’

‘’That sounds like a brilliant plan,’’ Zarah said and pushed her lips to his.

Thank you for reading, you're very much appreciated. If you want to be tagged, please let me know under here or via a message. I'm kind of busy a lot but do try and post as much as possible. Again, thank you so much!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #Sturniolo

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lancermylove · 1 month

Text

Body Swap (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: DB x fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers

A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!

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Lucifer

Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.

If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.

He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.

On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.

But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.

Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.

You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.

Mammon

He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.

When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.

Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!

You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.

"Now, y'know how I feel..."

Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.

While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.

You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.

Levi

Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.

Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.

For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.

Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.

You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.

This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.

Satan

Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.

He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.

You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.

This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.

Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.

Asmo

Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.

Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.

Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.

One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.

Beel

He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.

Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.

Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.

You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.

On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.

For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.

You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.

Belphie

He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.

Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.

You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.

You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.

Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.

----

Epilogue:

After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.

So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

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withleeknow · 1 month

Note

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

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