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#'and i could see you up against the wall with me' HOW SHE STARTED LOOKING FORWARD TO THEIR NIGHTS TOGETHER
januaryembrs · 2 days
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WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]
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Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to
Length. 15.2k
warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!
previous chpt | next chpt
Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!
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'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,
I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'
The one with the wedding
JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit. 
“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.
“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?” 
But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner. 
“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them. 
It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything. 
And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.
Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions. 
Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air. 
“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,” 
Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer. 
It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue. 
He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket. 
It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.
He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.
Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her. 
He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop. 
His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him. 
But it was her. There was no doubt about it. 
He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all. 
“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”
Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise. 
He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.
This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed. 
Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe. 
“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash. 
But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face. 
He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with. 
“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?” 
He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too. 
“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form. 
“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,” 
The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head. 
“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all. 
“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces. 
Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were. 
He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her. 
“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone. 
“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side. 
“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place. 
“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”
She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine. 
Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm. 
It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer. 
She was asleep before she could protest to it. 
The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in. 
Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.
She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.
“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’
What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow. 
She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”
He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation. 
“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?” 
He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her. 
“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,” 
“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”
Shit. 
“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured. 
“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”
She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?” 
He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said. 
“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,” 
She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”
Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.
Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him. 
“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?” 
She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.
Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted. 
“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that. 
He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”
“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”
“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.
“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,” 
She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away. 
“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”
“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman. 
“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!” 
JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches. 
Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that. 
He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers. 
He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups. 
Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to. 
Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm. 
Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body. 
But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style. 
“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up. 
She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore. 
It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted. 
He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good. 
He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers. 
He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him. 
She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now. 
“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”
Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.
“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore. 
“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?” 
Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened. 
“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed. 
They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down. 
Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”
He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll. 
Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well. 
Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder. 
“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres. 
Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most. 
JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other. 
Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ. 
Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle. 
The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress. 
“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!” 
She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly. 
“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.
“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,” 
Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”  
Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys. 
“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,” 
She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell. 
“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat. 
“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered. 
“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”
His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused. 
“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous. 
“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!” 
“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”
Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did. 
He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there. 
He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek. 
He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it. 
Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it. 
The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.
-
Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat. 
But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well. 
JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway. 
Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern. 
Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were. 
“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”
Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”
Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again. 
Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch. 
“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.
But she was okay. Broken bones and all. 
She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright. 
“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing. 
Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it. 
“I’m-”
“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”
He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.” 
“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”
“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”
She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.
“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”
She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie. 
“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”
She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,” 
“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”
“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,” 
And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour. 
“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek. 
The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor. 
“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”
“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”
She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”
He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”
“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”
He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to. 
She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”
Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own. 
“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood. 
“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder. 
He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.
“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her. 
She looked like a dream.
“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”
“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”
Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit. 
Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily. 
She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch. 
It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes. 
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him. 
He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near. 
She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better. 
Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness. 
And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway. 
They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.
Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did. 
Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her. 
They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right. 
And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night. 
Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back. 
2. The one with Maeve
Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months. 
At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing. 
Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else. 
Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her. 
He was talking to Maeve. 
The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting. 
He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things. 
That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve. 
Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab. 
She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy. 
Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was. 
Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company. 
But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest. 
“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?” 
“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”
“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not. 
She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before. 
“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”
“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”
“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”
“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way. 
“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down. 
“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses. 
She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”
“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog. 
Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,” 
He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,” 
And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk. 
He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not. 
Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her. 
His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now. 
“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear. 
She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,” 
“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another. 
“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,” 
The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it. 
Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy. 
At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder. 
She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him, 
“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully. 
He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.
“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.” 
She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped. 
“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.
She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed. 
“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught. 
“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,” 
Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up. 
Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble. 
How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream. 
He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her. 
Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss. 
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes. 
“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.
Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol. 
It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets. 
It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly. 
“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.
“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face. 
“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case. 
“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered. 
“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. 
“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.
“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap. 
“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her. 
Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back. 
Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.
The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal. 
Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?” 
“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone. 
Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act. 
He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway. 
He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it. 
Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block. 
“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”
“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”
Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.
Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around. 
His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed. 
Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either. 
“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”
“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him. 
“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”
“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling. 
“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”
“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features. 
“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?” 
Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate. 
“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.
“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject. 
“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed. 
“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything. 
“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth. 
Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot. 
“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground. 
“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing. 
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.
“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead. 
“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague. 
“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him. 
Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt. 
Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him. 
She couldn’t choke it down anymore.  
Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.
Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it. 
“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?” 
And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.  
Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them. 
That wasn’t what just friends did. 
And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again. 
3. The one with their first date
Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.
Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain. 
Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too. 
She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.
“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch. 
He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.
Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes. 
The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them. 
“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.  
It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve. 
She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of. 
But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really. 
“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,” 
JJ knew not to ask any more than that. 
Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it. 
She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages. 
“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done. 
“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them. 
“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone. 
“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?” 
Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him. 
What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London. 
She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away. 
She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning. 
Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.
“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve. 
She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so. 
“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day. 
Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it. 
Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat. 
But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside. 
Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,” 
“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?” 
Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,” 
Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.” 
And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his. 
She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze. 
“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store. 
“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work. 
Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?” 
She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own. 
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her. 
She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better. 
“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.
He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map. 
Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.
He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him. 
He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant. 
Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever. 
He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself. 
He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back. 
He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys. 
And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined. 
That’s exactly what he would say.
Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan. 
He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out. 
Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door. 
“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-
She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion. 
Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost. 
“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”
“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder. 
He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch. 
Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true. 
“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”
He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider. 
“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch. 
Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true. 
“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,” 
Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,” 
She nodded back, and they went silent. 
They’d found themselves back at that stalemate. 
--
TAGLIST:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing
405 notes · View notes
elryuse · 16 hours
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IU smut please
Lavender Flowers
IU X MALE READER
Tags : Iu Smut, Sex, Drama, Younger manager male reader
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Jieun inhaled deeply, the calming scent of lavender filling her senses as she approached Y/n's tiny office. It was a feeble attempt to mask the nervous tremor in her hands and the frantic drumbeat of her heart. Today, she had a surprise for him, a gamble on a secret desire that had been simmering for weeks.
Y/n, her younger manager, defied all expectations. With his tousled black hair perpetually falling into his eyes and a smile that could melt glaciers, he was a whirlwind of youthful energy compared to Jieun's composed, mature demeanor. Yet, there was a captivating vulnerability in his eyes that always seemed to draw her gaze.
He was hunched over his laptop when she entered, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Jieun-noona?" he greeted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he looked up. "What a nice surprise."
"Just dropping by to see how the king of chaos is handling his kingdom," she teased, forcing a playful smile that felt strained even to her own ears.
Y/n chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine despite the playful banter. "Barely surviving, Noona. The Schedules were a nightmare."
Jieun crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "Well, that's what you get for taking on a diva like me."
The playful exchange masked the turmoil within her. Jieun had always maintained a professional distance with her managers, but with Y/n, the boundaries had started to blur weeks ago. It began with stolen glances across the recording booth, then late-night discussions that stretched into the early hours, filled with laughter and an unexpected connection that left her breathless.
"Maybe you need more lavender in your life, Manager Y/n," she said, reaching into a small, brown paper bag. "Stress relief, courtesy of your favorite artist."
Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked from the bag to her face, his eyes lingering a beat too long on her lips, sending a jolt through her. "Lavender isn't exactly my go-to scent, Noona."
Jieun's cheeks flushed a warm pink. "Well, you might learn to appreciate it. It's supposed to do wonders for anxiety."
He finally took the bag, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Anything from you, Noona, is a wonder."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Jieun felt a boldness she never knew she possessed rise within her. "Tell me, Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "What about lavender fields under a full moon?"
Y/n's breath hitched. He looked up from the bag, his eyes searching hers. In that moment, the air crackled with unspoken possibilities. "Noona," he started, his voice hoarse. "I…"
Before he could finish, Jieun took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Her heart hammered in her chest as their gazes locked. "Let's find out," she murmured, her voice husky with a desire she hadn't known existed.
With a swift movement, she cupped his face in her hands, her thumb tracing the soft line of his jaw. His eyes widened momentarily before his gaze dropped to her lips. The tension in the air was thick, charged with a potent mix of forbidden desire and a budding connection.
Jieun leaned in, closing the remaining gap. Their first kiss was hesitant, a brush of lips that sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Y/n, taller by a head, responded with a surge of raw hunger. He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers.
The scent of lavender mingled with the sweetness of her perfume as they explored each other's mouths with deepening passion. The kiss was a revelation, a collision of pent-up emotions. Jieun felt a fire ignite within her, a yearning she hadn't known existed.
Y/n's hands roamed her body, sending shivers down her spine. He cupped her face, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers. Her breath hitched as his touch ignited a flame in the pit of her stomach.
"Jieun," he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "We shouldn't…"
Jieun, her inhibitions melting away like ice under a summer sun, pressed her finger to his lips. "Shhh," she murmured, leaning into his touch. "Not now."
With a slow, deliberate movement, she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers trailing across his bare chest, sending a jolt through him. His breath caught in his throat, and she could feel him stiffen in her arms.
The air in the small office was thick with desire as they continued to explore each other. Clothes were shed in a flurry of heated whispers and stolen glances. Jieun reveled in the feeling of his touch, his strong hands sending shivers down her spine as they traced patterns on her skin, igniting goosebumps all over her body. As they moved closer, the scent of lavender mingled with the heat of their bodies, creating a headier aroma that fueled their passion.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window as they finally pulled apart, breathless and tangled. Shame threatened to bubble up within Jieun, but it was quickly extinguished by the raw need that pulsed through her.
Y/n, his hair a mess and a dazed look in his eyes, mirrored her emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Jieun-noona," he began, his voice hoarse.
"Shh," she cut him off, her finger finding its way to his lips again. "We'll talk later." In that moment, words were unnecessary. All that mattered was the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the feel of his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his chest, a perfect echo of her own.
They spent the rest of the afternoon locked in each other's arms, the small office transformed into a haven of stolen moments and whispered promises. As the world outside faded away, they explored each other's bodies with a newfound tenderness, their initial passion evolving into a deeper intimacy.
When the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a soft golden glow, they finally disentangled themselves. A blush rose to Jieun's cheeks as she realized the precariousness of the situation. "I… I should probably get going," she stammered, gathering her scattered clothes.
Y/n, his eyes filled with a newfound desire, reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Stay," he pleaded, his voice husky.
Jieun looked into his eyes, seeing a raw vulnerability that tugged at her heartstrings. The professional boundaries that had once separated them had been shattered, replaced by a connection far deeper. With a soft smile, she surrendered to her desires.
"Alright," she conceded, her voice barely a whisper.
The next few weeks continued in a haze of stolen kisses, lingering touches, and nervous glances at the studio door. Every night, entwined in the lavender-scented sheets of Jieun's king-sized bed, the weight of their secret relationship pressed down on them.
"We can't keep doing this, Y/n," Jieun sighed one evening, her voice laced with a bittersweet mix of fear and longing.
Y/n, nestled against her, his eyes closed, held her tighter. "But I don't want anything to change," he mumbled sleepily.
Jieun shifted in his arms, turning to look him in the face. The moonlight painted a soft glow on his features, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes. "Neither do I," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But there has to be a way… a way for us to be together."
Y/n's eyes fluttered open, gazing at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. "Jieun," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I… I love you."
The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Jieun's heart leaped in her chest. A myriad of emotions flooded her - fear, surprise, and a joy so profound it threatened to overwhelm her.
"Y/n…" she started, her voice choked with emotion.
He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Don't say anything," he whispered, his eyes searching hers. "Just let me hold you, let me know that you feel even a fraction of what I feel for you."
Tears welled up in Jieun's eyes. In that moment, all her doubts and anxieties melted away. The fear of the unknown, the sting of society's judgment, none of it mattered. Y/n's love was a beacon in the darkness, a lifeline she clung to with all her being.
Without a word, she leaned in, their kiss a silent testament to their forbidden love. When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, a sense of calm settled upon them, much like the calming scent of lavender that lingered in the air.
Jieun reached over to the nightstand, her fingers brushing against a small, delicate vase filled with dried lavender. It was the same bag she'd brought Y/n weeks ago, a symbol of hope for something peaceful amidst the chaos of their feelings.
"Maybe," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "maybe our love is like lavender. Unconventional, perhaps, but beautiful nonetheless. It might not fit the traditional mold, but its fragrance can fill a room with a sense of peace, a reminder that even in the most unexpected places, something beautiful can bloom."
Y/n looked from the vase to her eyes, his gaze filled with understanding. "And maybe," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "just maybe, like lavender, our love can survive a little drying out, a little pressure, as long as we have each other."
He pulled her close again, the scent of lavender mingling with the warmth of their bodies. Their future was uncertain, a field of lavender stretching out before them, some blooms vibrant purple and some faded, but all part of the same beautiful landscape. Together, they would navigate it, their love their guiding light, as fragrant and enduring as the fields of lavender they dreamt of one day exploring, hand in hand.
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catopoliscat · 13 hours
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nail day / fem!reader/atsuya kusakabe.
you always had a way of catching atsuya off-guard in your relationship. you decide to take things to a whole new level with just your nails, and then atsuya's doing things he never thought he would be doing, in places he never thought he'd be doing them.
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tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab!reader. established relationship (you've been together a few months). ‘get your nails painted the colour of his tip’. canon!verse. atsuya gives me heavy boomer energy ngl. sexting. semi-public sex (kind of, solo masturbation). mentions of edging (reader). shades of dom!reader but feels more like more sexually-open!reader lmao. shades of insecure kuskabe. man has feelings but don’t tell him. toge, maki and panda cameo at the start because i love them. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.
wc: 6.9k
a/n: a masterclass in how to stretch a 2k concept into nearly 7k for no reason ft. an overlooked side character, blegh
mdni.
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The ‘ding’, though faint, rings out through the quiet walls of the classroom, disturbing the languid, tranquil air. 
Atsuya purses his lips around his lollipop, eyes slowly opening. He’s reluctant to move his body from its semi-comfortable position—feet propped up on the edge of the worn desk in front of him, hands behind his head. It was a favourite of his during the warmer hours of the afternoon on a slower work day, like today. From his spot, the soft sun filters in through the windows just right, warming his body and making him just the right amount of relaxed. 
He doesn’t have to look at the clock above the dated chalkboard to know what time it was, his body told him that. Just another twenty minutes and then it was home-sweet-home. 
Swinging his eyes lazily across his cluttered desk, he spots his phone amidst the ungraded papers and documents. The screen is lit up, lighting up the cracks on the glass he is still yet to replace. He can make out the faint outline of a text message, from you no doubt, but once again, he’s reluctant to move to check it just yet. 
Astuya rolls his tongue around the sweet in his mouth once, then twice. The stick rolls from the left side of his mouth to the right. 
His eyes flick up to his students across from him, his gaze moving across each one. Panda’s head rests in his large fist (paw?), his beady black eyes slowly blinking, clearly still trying to stay awake although his teacher was almost napping mere moments ago. Toge was reclined in his chair, feet kicked out across the aisle, fiddling with his phone underneath the desk where he presumed Atsuya couldn’t see it (he could, and he could definitely recognise the sound of Candy Crush when he heard it). His eyes finally meet Maki’s where she sits, arms folded, spear resting against her desk like a faithful dog. 
She holds Atsuya’s gaze with a strength a sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have, something searching in her gaze. After a few moments of uncomfortable eye contact (at least on Atsuya’s behalf), she raises an eyebrow at him, the thin arch peeking above the rim of her glasses. 
The ‘ding’ rings out again. 
“Are you going to answer that?” she finally says. Panda jolts in his seat, straightening up, looking across the classroom as if expecting someone to come running in. Toge’s eyes do not move from his lap, ‘delicious!’ echoing through the classroom a second later. 
“Get back to work,” Atsuya grumbles, shooting Maki a withering look before reaching for his phone anyway, pulling it toward his eyes. 
pain in my ass sent you a photo. 
He squints, just about making out the small icon of the photo in the corner of the notification. It looks like your hand. 
Oh yeah, he thinks to himself, nail day. Even when you were away on a mission, you always seemed to make time for it. 
Atsuya flicks his gaze across his students again and sees three sets of eyes trained on him despite his earlier order. Seems like he was the most interesting thing in this classroom right now. 
Ignoring the expectant look of his students, he unlocks his phone with a swipe of his thumb. He pulls up the text thread with you, presses on the photo and low and behold, there’s your hand, nails adorned with a fresh new colour. A pretty kind of dark pink.
Atsuya exhales a gush of air through his nose, admiring the contour of your hand for a moment. You hadn’t sent a message with it, and for a moment he’s tempted just to leave a thumbs up on the picture and call it a day. After all, what the hell did he know about manicures? Your nails looked nice, he guessed, but you always looked nice, even without them.
But then he remembers the lecture you had given him about his ‘lacklustre’ responses once and he hesitates. Despite having a sister, he still didn’t get women. At all. And it showed sometimes. Sometimes.  
He clears his throat and glances across at his students. “Woman sends you a nail picture, what do you say? Go.” 
Maki raises an eyebrow at him again, her expression the definition of the question ‘really, idiot?’
Panda perks up a little though, scratching at his chin. “Something complimentary, maybe? How about… ’looks very nice?’” 
Atsuya nods, pursing his lips around the lollipop in his mouth for a moment. It sounded good to him, at least. 
Toge shakes his head, a small, negatory ‘fish flakes’ falling from his lips. Atsuya frowns at him for putting doubt in his mind—and for the fact that the speech-user didn’t give him any sort of clue as to what he should say instead.
“Is this really necessary?” Maki drawls at last, kicking one heel over the other, “She’s your girlfriend.” 
A beat of silence passes in the classroom. 
“Give me a good response and I’ll let you leave now.” 
Maki holds his stare for a moment longer, before pushing back her chair with a loud scrape. She walks over to Atsuya’s desk and holds out her hand, even that small movement is somehow aggressive. 
Atsuya hesitates for a second, glancing down at the girl's slightly calloused palm. His eyes flick to the message thread after, scrolling up a little, making sure there wasn’t anything… obscene, before handing her the phone. 
He watches as she types something, both thumbs moving faster than Atsuya could ever manage before he hears the little familiar ‘woosh’ of a message being sent. She hands him back the phone a moment later. 
She folds her arms across her chest again. “Well?”
Atsuya raises a finger, looking down at the message. 
Gorgeous as always. I love that colour on you. 
He keeps his finger raised as he stares down at the message, watching as the small ‘read 2:37 pm’ pops up underneath his forged text. 
A little heart pops up a second later, and Atusya clicks his fingers before jabbing his thumb in the direction of the classroom door. His students waste little time in grabbing their things and filing out of the classroom, the door shutting a moment later. 
Wow, who knew you could be so adorable, Cutiekabe? 
Atsuya smiles, a touch smugly, to himself. He briefly contemplates how weird it would be if he got his students to write more of his texts to you. They clearly understood something he didn’t. 
what can I say? I try
He slumps back in his seat a little more, pleased with himself. His pride quickly melts away, however, when you reply again. 
So, who was it? Maki or Toge? 
Atsuya mutters a small ‘shit’ around his lollipop, before pulling it from between his lips with a pop. He should have known better. You had always been freakishly… aware of things. 
… what gave it away? 
The correct grammar.idiot 
Dumping his phone in his lap with a sigh, Atsuya scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he can try and salvage the situation. He knew you weren’t mad-mad, but still. It wasn’t exactly a good look for him—and he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this for a good long while. A grown man having a sixteen-year-old write his message because he was useless with genuine affection and emotion? Embarrassing. 
The phone dings again, and he picks it back up, shoving his lollipop back into his mouth. 
Do you like them though? The colour’s special.Really special.
Raising an eyebrow, he scrolls up back to the hand photo to see what he just missed. Was pink your favourite colour? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t think so… but now he was doubting again. He had already messed up once, and now he was on a fast track to digging himself a deeper grave. 
i like them  a lot its a real nice pink
Atsuya cringes at his choice of words and wishes he could unsend the message, but he knows you’ve already seen it. 
You should. You look at the same shade every day, you know. 
…?
“…the fuck did I miss?” he mutters to himself, frowning down at the screen. 
It’s the colour of your tip, Kusakabe. 
He raises an eyebrow at his phone as his thumbs tap out another reply. 
the tip of my what? 
It takes Atsuya three heartbeats before he realises what you’re saying.
He almost drops his phone in his haste to scroll back up to the photo, his feet sliding off the desk as he leans forward in his seat. That pinkish shade on the tips of your nails glares back at him, and his eyes grow wider and wider by the second. Only now you’ve pointed it out, the shade is really fucking familiar, and it’s all he can see now. 
His lips part, the lollipop falling from his mouth and onto the floor. 
The tip of his dick. You got your nails painted the same colour as his fucking dick. 
ur kiddingreally? why
There’s a pause before he sends another stream of messages. 
is this some trend thing? or a prank?seems fucking weirdu couldn’t have done my eyes or something? anything that wasn’t to do with my actual dick???
It’s as if he can hear the echo of your laughter in the room with him right now, even though he knows you’re a few hundred miles away. In his mind's eye, he can make out the crease of your eyes and cheeks as you take in his borderline shocked and repulsed expression. 
Atsuya knew you were younger than him, though only a little—but sometimes it felt as if you two were worlds apart when it came to things like this. He didn’t know how you kept up with it all. Especially if the main trends of today were getting your nails painted dick-colours. 
What, you don’t like it, baby? It’s like I have you with me wherever I go, now.Or your dick, anyway.  
He rolls his eyes, your teasing tone heard loud and clear. He briefly contemplates letting the message hang, let you bask in your own foolishness while he heads back to the apartment—though he had been spending more time at the school lately. Home felt a little weird without you there, as much as he loathed to think about it. 
Another ding. 
It’s gonna be so much more fun touching myself later. 
And just like that, Atsuya feels his whole world grind to a halt with just a few words. In a flash of smoke, all thoughts of his dick shade (was it really that pink though?) disappear out of the window, replaced instead with an image that comes as clearly to him as his own reflection. 
You, sprawled out on some dusted futon in a rundown hotel, naked and flushed—thighs parted, pussy glistening and wet, ready for him; clit swollen underneath those pretty pink fingertips and—
Atsuya’s head whips over his shoulder left and right, clutching his phone a little tighter to himself, despite the classroom being blissfully empty. Still, he’s cautious—as he should be while at work. In a fucking school no less. 
goddamn womanare u trying to kill me? im still at work
Atsuya’s hand drifts down, adjusting himself as discreetly as he can manage. He’s not fully hard, but his cock is definitely sitting a little heavier in his slacks just from the mere thought of your words alone. You always had that affect on him. 
Well, that, and two weeks (15 days to be exact) without you was starting to drive him insane. His hand could only do so much—even with your panties wrapped around them. 
Atsuya curses, trying (and failing) not to think about that as he feels himself swell a little fuller. Luckily, another ding registers before he can dwell on what he’s more than likely going to do as soon as he gets home. 
Why? I bet you sent the kids out ages ago. 
He purses his lips. There was that freaky-woman-sixth-sense you seemed to have. That, or he was just that predictable. 
still!!!u know what u do to me…u really gonna do that tho?
Atsuya pauses, his thumbs stilling a moment, before he continues on. 
send pics if u do 
He hesitates again, his face pulling into some sort of grimace. 
i really fucking miss you
Cringing a little, he locks his phone before you can reply, shoving it into his pocket and standing from his desk. He couldn’t deal with anything else right now, not while he was at work. Not with Satoru hanging around too. 
The last thing he wanted in the world was for that white-haired fool to see him walking around with a goddamn boner. 
Packing up his things in an even more harried and rushed way than usual, papers half-spilling out of his briefcase, he throws on his coat before heading out the door. All he had to do was pick up a few things from the store for dinner and then he was home free and he could… indulge.
Although the idea of another night fucking up into his fist imagining it was your hand around him wasn’t ideal, it would do for now. Maybe you really would send a few pictures to help him along. Hell, at this point he’d use that damn hand picture. 
Continuing down the hallway, his mind a million miles away, he tells himself he won’t check his phone until he gets back home just in case you do. It was safer that way. You were… unpredictable sometimes. Especially when it came to sex.  
“Not until I get back home,” he mutters under his breath as he strides down the hallway. 
He tells himself that, anyway. 
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What Atsuya Kusakabe tells himself and what he actually does are sometimes two separate things. 
Standing in a small supermarket an hour later, looking at the different packages of instant ramen (God, you’d moan at him if you knew he was eating ready meals instead of something sustainable, but what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you), he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. 
His eyes move from the rows of brightly-coloured plastic packaging down to the square lump in his slacks. He chews on his bottom lip indecisively for a moment, telling himself it was probably just you goading him for actually admitting he liked having you close—and not the pictures he had already spent an entire train journey fantasising about. 
Atsuya swallows, ignoring the vibration as he pulls a random ramen packet from the shelf and dumps it in the basket on his arm. 
He’s standing in the beer and wine aisle when his phone vibrates again, reminding him about the notification. His eye twitches, but once again, he ignores it—dumping a four-pack of cheap beer into his basket alongside his cheap meal. 
Again, his phone vibrates in the fresh-food aisle (he doesn’t pick anything up, just passing through on the way to the candy), and again, he ignores it. 
Three more times it chimes, in quick succession, as he picks up a lollipop. His fingers twitch around the stick as he stares at the packaging—strawberry and sakura-flavoured! 
Flushed pink colour, stick included. 
Atsuya swallows, throwing the lollipop back on the pile quickly and instead grabs a watermelon-flavoured one. Bright green. 
His phone vibrates once more on his way to the checkout, and Atsuya’s resolve breaks like a taut wire. Impatience finally wins out. 
As he digs his hand into his pocket, fishing out his phone, he tells himself it’s because he cares. After all, you rarely texted him this much. What if you had run into trouble? Maybe you were asking for help? Burying the voice that tells him that if that were the case, then you’d at least call him—he swipes open his phone— 
—and then he nearly drops the damn thing on the floor. 
Phone opening straight back up on the message thread, he’s greeted by several photos of you—fully naked, spread out across sheets, just like in his earlier fantasy… but fucking better because this was real. Right in front of him. So close, yet so far. 
Atsuya slams the screen against his chest so fucking quickly it makes a loud thump, and an older woman further down the aisle sends him a strange look. He offers a strained smile in return as he turns his back to her, his heartbeat thumping against his ribs. 
Close the damn thread, Kusakabe, he tells himself, wait until you get back home. 
What he tells himself and what he does, however… 
Atsuya walks quickly, quicker than he ever did at work, until he disappears down an emptier aisle, heat prickling at the back of his neck. His footsteps draw to a stop right next to some laundry detergent, and with a quick look left and right, he peels his phone from his chest like a bloodied bandage, slowly, as if scared of the damage underneath. 
He takes another peek at the images, and sure enough, there you still are. It might not have been some rundown motel or futon (thank fuck), but the white sheets underneath make the familiar flush of your skin practically glow. The first few images are of your face and chest, smiling up at the camera above you all sweet and saccharine like you have no idea what the fuck that look does to him. His eyes trail over your face, your lashes and the curve of your lips, before slowly dragging downward, down your neck and across your collarbone, until his eyes lock onto your breasts. 
You’ve got one hand squeezing one of the mounds, freshly done fingernails digging into the plump flesh just enough to leave indents. The pink of your nails shines in the low light, and his mind snaps to the thought of his cock between your tits, sliding between the valley slick with spit and pre-cum as you looked up at him from underneath your lashes. It was something he hadn’t done yet but fuck if he hadn’t thought about it. Dreamt about it sometimes too.
“…oh fuck,” Atsuya mutters under his breath, glancing around him once more to make sure he was still alone. He was, but this was dangerous—he knew it. He became distinctly aware of the potential of cameras around, scoping out for thieves and delinquents. All it would take was one dedicated employee who was paying attention to see a grown man lusting at pictures of a naked woman on his phone in the middle of a fucking store. 
Was it… wrong that Atsuya kind of liked that idea? Not the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, fuck no, but… the thought of someone seeing that this was the person he got to go home to every day. The woman he called his own. The woman he got to see like this in the flesh. The woman he got to touch, feel, fuck. He’s always been proud to show you off in his own way, but this was a whole new level. 
Atsuya’s really glad he adjusted himself earlier, but fuck if the growing thickness in his slacks wasn’t uncomfortable. And embarrassing. 
Glancing down at the photos again, he releases a shuddering breath. The POV of the pictures taken above makes Atsuya feel like he’s there, right above you, hips between your thighs like he fucking should be—not about to pay up on some groceries and go home alone to an empty apartment that still smelled like you. 
Another picture comes through, this time of between your thighs, and Atsuya has to suck in his bottom lip to stop from groaning aloud. 
Those pretty folds of yours, already glistening with arousal; underwear hanging off the soft thigh of one leg… the sight is fucking sinful. Your middle finger is already buried deep inside you all the way to the knuckle, the rest of your fingers splayed out around. 
That fucking shade of pink is staring at him once again, reminding him of your choice, your reasoning, and Atsuya finally gets the prank, the trend, whatever it is. He fucking gets it now. 
As his grip on his phone tightens, threatening to bend the already damaged plastic underneath his fingers, another message comes through. 
I miss you too, ‘kabe. See how much? Two fingers deep and all I can think about is your cock instead. 
Atsuya’s mind spins, clouded with lust and thoughts of you and you only. He feels like he might sway on his feet as the full force of his need and longing seems to hit him square in the chest, sending him dizzy. 
Oh, how he missed you. He missed you so fucking much. 
He leans up against the shelves, some of the boxes of powdered detergent rustling underneath him, but he pays it little attention. His eyes are locked on those photos, and the reminder that you missed him just as fucking much as he missed you. 
Are you hard for me too? 
Atsuya’s quick to adjust the basket hanging off of his arm as he brings both hands up to his phone. 
u have no fucking ideaur so goddamn sexy you know that??i’m hard as a goddamn rock right now
Show me. 
Atsuya’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead in surprise. He glances over his shoulders once more and sees a young couple walk past the aisle and onto the next one, giggling about something. 
i canti’m in a storenot in the mood for getting arrested for public indecency
Oh?Opening my nudes out in public? Dirty old man. 
Atsuya can’t bring himself to disagree with you, although the use of ‘old’ does sting a little. 
Do they have toilets? Go there. I want to see you. 
Oh, now you were playing with fire. Opening your messages in public full-well expecting what was in them was reckless enough, but if this was heading where Atsuya thought it was—and it probably was if his resolve was all that was holding him back—then this was downright idiotic. Dumb. Stupid. Gojo-coded. 
And yet the sound of his shoes against the tiles rings out across the store anyway as he marches toward the public bathrooms, the half-filled basket abandoned on the floor.  
He swings open the door of the male bathrooms a touch more forcefully than necessary, quickly scoping out the space. It’s clean, thankfully, although the scent of bleach and other cleaning chemicals hangs heavy in the air. Hardly the sexiest place, but it’s empty—though that’s always in danger of changing. 
Striding past the sinks and urinals, he heads toward one of the stalls, pushing open the door and stepping inside before shutting it once more—and locking it too. He rests his back against the door with a sigh as he swipes open the camera app on his phone. 
The fluorescent lighting isn’t the best, but it’s all he has to work with as he takes a slightly shaky picture of the swell in his dark trousers. His cock sits thick and proud against his zipper, the outline of it abundantly clear. 
He sends it to you without a message and without a second thought, staring down at the screen intently as he sees those familiar three dots immediately pop up. 
Fuck, you really are hard. Just for me? 
Atsuya scoffs out loud, though the sound is weaker than usual. 
who else???u think I’d send pics like this to anyone else? in a public bathroom??u drive me goddamn crazy
So cute.Take it out. I want to see it properly. 
Atsuya freezes for a moment. Although getting your dick out in a public bathroom wasn’t exactly new, this was… different. For him, anyway. Sexting, sending nudes, let alone in a public place… he wasn’t exactly well-versed in this type of thing. It had always seemed a little young for him. None of his previous partners had done anything like this. 
But he had no idea whether this was a regular thing with your past partners though… 
…and the thought of that alone has his one hand fiddling with this button on his slacks, trying to tug it free of the hole. He just about manages, though his zipper requires a little more finesse, but eventually, that gives too.
He heaves a small sigh of relief as the constriction on his aching cock finally lessens, and inching his trousers and boxers down just enough, he lets it spring free. He shivers slightly as the cool, stagnant air of the bathroom hits his overheated skin, the flushed head (pink, pink, pink) shining up at him. 
With a slightly shaking hand, he wraps his free hand around the base of his cock, twitching at the minute stimulation. He snaps another picture and sends it once more.
see what you do to me? god I wish u were herethe things I’d do to you right noweven in this fucking bathroom
Your reply is almost instantaneous. 
Touch yourself and tell me. 
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He wonders if that would be too far for him right now considering his environment. He wonders how the hell he’s even meant to type one-handed. He can barely do it with two. 
A second later, you’re answering his questions for him as he sees his phone light up in his hand, displaying your caller ID. A picture of you and him on one of your first dates stares back at him, the pair of you smiling together in a dimly lit booth, his arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. You look so happy to be there. Atsuya still looks faintly surprised you turned up. 
It’s one of Atsuya’s favourite photos. His students had teased him for it when he had set it as his lock screen, so he had changed it back to default and set it as your caller ID instead. It’s how they had found out you and him were even a thing. He still remembers feeling smug at his student’s surprised faces… before the questions had started. You and her?! Is she okay in the head or…? 
Atsuya stares down at the vibrating phone in his hand, looking at your soft smile staring back at him. It’s a romantic picture. Doesn’t quite fit the vibe of what he’s about to partake in at all. 
He answers the call, holding it up to his ear. He’s immediately greeted by your breathy purr, dispelling all doubts or hesitancy like wind on sand. 
“Hey, baby,” he hears you say down the line. “You have no idea how fucking wet I am for you right now.” 
Atsuya groans, his head hitting the cool door behind him with a dull thunk. 
“Fuck, don’t say it like that,” he groans, before wedging his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Why not? It’s the truth.” 
Atsuya doesn’t doubt your words, because he can fucking hear it. Behind muted moans and breathy sighs, he can hear the sound of your fingers plunging in and out of your heat, the wet squelch so audible it’s lewd. His cock twitches at the sound, and he scrunches his eyes closed.
In his mind's eye, he can almost see himself with you, between your legs, thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Though your fingers are slower than what he’d do if he was there right now, he lines his imagination up with the audio queue you’ve given, and another guttural groan seeps past his bitten lip. 
“Come on, baby, talk to me,” he distantly hears you purr into the receiver. “Are you stroking your cock for me? Just like I would?” 
Atsuya spits a curse as his free hand curls around his shaft on instinct, giving the base a small squeeze before he drags his hand up to the flushed tip. He repeats the motion a few times, practically milking himself, trying to mimic those irritating fucking teasing motions you always worked him up with. 
Not as if he needs much working up though, not now. 
“Yeah,” he exhales shakily. “Fuck, ‘s pretty fucking s-sensitive right now.” 
He hears a breathy chuckle in response to his words. “Aw, too worked up?” 
“Pent-up, more like,” he replies, fighting back another groan as he feels himself leak. He quickly collects it with his fingers, smearing it down his shaft and lubricating the way. 
“Been saving yourself for me, ‘suya?” 
Atsuya huffs a breath that’s almost like a chuckle. “N-Nah, not really, ngh—“ His hips buck up into his palm as he grazes over the sensitive tip. “Just ‘s not the same without you.” 
You coo down the line in response but the sound abruptly cuts off, replaced by a breathy moan instead. Fuck, those were amongst his favourite sounds of yours—almost as much as when you’d moan his— 
“Fuck, Atsuya,” you moan, and his cock practically jumps in his fist. He hears the sound of your fingers working faster, and his eyes roll back underneath his closed lids. 
He widens his stance and leans back further against the door, his hips jutting outward as he quickens his pace to match yours. He can feel his loosened slacks dropping lower on his thighs with every buck of his hips, his untucked shirt ghosting across his lower abdomen. His mind is trying to scream at him that this isn’t the place to be letting go like this, but it’s been so long without you, without hearing you, without touching you that he feels like God himself could break down the bathroom door and he wouldn’t care. Not while you were moaning his name like that. 
“God I miss you so fucking much,” Atsuya groans, his voice thick and choked. He works his fist a little faster over his cock, focusing on the tip mostly—just like you would when you really wanted him to make some noise. “Are you close? God, tell me you’re fucking close.” 
The urge to say ‘please’ is on the tip of his tongue but he just about resists for now—but his pride was quickly melting down into pure, unadulterated desperation as he felt his balls draw tighter and his stomach clench harder. He thinks this might be the quickest he’s ever cum. 
“Mm, I’m so close,” you reply in a semi-strained whisper. “I’ve been close for days.” 
Atsuya’s hand stutters on his cock, his eyes slowly blinking open. “…days?” 
There’s a pause before you answer, and he can already picture the way your brow arches pointedly. “You should know me better by now, ‘suya,” you chuckle. “I don’t mind edging myself now and then, especially when I’m away from you. It’ll just make it all the more better when I finally do see you.” 
Atsuya’s breathing is still ragged as he stares at the far wall of the toilet stall, his brows pinched in slight confusion. He realises that those wet noises on the other end have stopped too.
“You haven’t… cum since you left?” 
“Of course not,” you chuckle. “You think I want to cum around anything other than your cock?” 
Goddamn, does Atsuya’s cock throb something fierce at that. His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes widening at the wall. He immediately stops moving his hand, pinching his fingers around the base instead in the hopes of stopping the climax that just snuck up on him like a tornado in the dark. 
Your words, fucking hot as they were, put Atsuya in a little predicament though. Whilst he liked (actually loved) the idea that you were waiting just for him… did you… expect the same of him? Was this just all a little fun? Because he was hard as a rock right now, throbbing in his own palm, and all he could think about was how close he was and how this climax was probably going to knock the breath from him. Not the little ports-in-the-storms he’d been having since you had left fifteen days ago.
“Did you stop?” 
Atsuya blinks, feeling strangely awkward like some teenage boy on his first date all over again—exactly how he had felt on his first date with you, seeing you all dressed up for the first time, just for him. 
He becomes distinctly aware of how loud his breathing is, how it carries against the cold tiles around him. “Yeah… I mean, did you want…” 
“Don’t stop,” you say, saving him the agony of asking. “Just because I like edging myself doesn’t mean I expect the same of you.” He hears the rustling of sheets on the other side as you change positions. “Keep going, baby, let me hear how much you want me—and I’ll return the favour and then some when I get back.” 
Words fail him for a moment, because all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss you right now, to cover your body, head to toe, in kisses that he hopes portray his gratitude for you better than his words ever could. For once, he wants to leave his cock neglected and bury his face in your cunt until you’re screaming out, clawing at his scalp as he shows you just how much he fucking loves y-
Slowly, his hand starts moving again; slow, languid pumps from base to tip. His eyelids flutter, a half-choked moan pushing out from the bottom of the chest.
“I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles, his words thick and laced with something not even he knows. “You’re so fucking sexy, everything I want.” 
“Mm, you’re always so sweet when you get worked up,” you purr into the phone, the words so breathy that Atsuya swears he can feel the heat against his ear. “Keep going. What would you do if I were there, right in front of you? Would I be on my knees?” 
Atsuya’s eyes roll as his lids shut, his chin jutting up toward the ceiling as he picks up the pace on his cock. He can picture it so fucking clearly that the stagnant air of the bathroom fades away. The image of you on your knees, looking up at him from underneath those lashes of yours… you’d swipe your tongue over your bottom lip just to tease him, and it’d work every damn time. 
He nods his head in eager, stuttered movements, as if you could actually see him. “On your knees, on your back—ngh!—I don’t fucking care,” he groans. 
Through his haze of lust, he knows what you’re trying to do, what you always tried to get him to do. Dirty-talk. It wasn’t his forte, you usually took the lead with that (he much preferred actually fucking you rather than talking about it… that and his imagination wasn’t exactly the best), but you seemed to lap up whatever pathetic attempt he usually tried to give you. 
Swallowing thickly, he clears his throat once. “Y-you’d be naked, just for me,” he mutters, his eyes fluttering open again as he gains a little confidence. “You’d use your mouth just how I like, y-yeah?” His grip around his shaft tightens, his pace quickening a touch more. His breathing grows ragged, harsh puffs slipping past his bitten lips. “F-fuck, you always look so goddamn sexy when you look up at me with my cock in your mouth.” 
A resonant hum greets him in response. “Oh, yeah? What else do you like?”  
“The way your tits bounce as I fuck you, s-shit.” Something scarily close to a whimper coils at the back of Atsuya’s throat as he feels himself nearing that precipice again. His thighs tense up and tremble, most of his weight supported by the stall door behind him now. “W-When you, mmf, dig your nails into my b-back like you’re trying to fucking kill me—oh fuck—“ 
Atsuya’s hand is working almost fervently now, the slick sounds mingling with his harsh breaths and low voice. He’s loud, far too fucking loud for a public bathroom, but he’s so close, so worked up that it barely becomes a concern anymore. If he focuses, he can smell your perfume instead of cleaning chemicals, feel the heat of your body against his instead of the cool door against his back—feel the heat of your pussy hugging his cock so tightly it’s like you’re begging him to fill you up with every stroke— 
“I’m close,” he rushes out, his tone almost panicked as he feels the intense prickles working up the base of his spine. His skin feels like it’s burning, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention like there’s a storm coming. He knows this climax is going to be intense—intense in a way that only you can ever work from him, even if you weren’t actually here. 
“Waiting for my permission?” you giggle, and Atsuya wants to snap at you but he can’t, not right now because… well, he is. He just wants to hear you say it, that you want it. That you want him. 
“F-fuck, don’t joke right now I c-can’t hold i—“ 
“Cum for me, Atsuya.” 
And just like that, Atsuya lurches over the edge so fierce it sucks all the air from his lungs. 
A sharp gasp catches in his throat as his cock pulses in his hand, ropes of his essence shooting from the tip so suddenly it makes his back arch. A loud, guttural groan bursts from his lips, his hips stuttering, expression pinched into something almost pained as he cums harder than he can ever remember before. Thick, pearlescent ribbons land across his fingers, shirt and tie, some even hitting his collar too. Pitchy curses leave his lips in a symphony, his vision swimming. 
Distantly, over the pounding in his skull and the blood rushing in his ears, he can hear you coo praises down the line as he continues draining himself of every drop he has, stiff grunts accompanying each stroke. His hand only stops when the sensation becomes far too much to bear, and he lets his hand fall from his cock back to his side with a ragged sigh.
His body slumps against the stall door, his eyes hooded as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t even bring himself to look down at the state he’s in, not right now—not while his head was swimming with endorphins and he finally felt sated for once. 
Fuck that warm, sunny spot at his desk. That had nothing on this. 
“Fuck, I wish I was there to see that,” you finally say after a moment of silence. “Feel good?” 
“…you have no idea, babe,” he murmurs, a small, lazy smile tugging at the side of his lips. “God I needed that.” 
You chuckle again. “Sounds like it, babe. I’m surprised the whole store didn’t come running to see what that groan was.” 
Atsuya can’t help but chuckle in response, though his smile is a touch embarrassed. He makes a mental note that he should probably avoid this store in future. It was going to be awkward enough leaving. 
And he still had to get something for dinner. He’d probably order takeout. 
Fuck it, it was worth it. 
Going to raise a hand to his clammy brow, he swiftly pauses, the sight of his soaked fingers making him curse. His eyes finally flick from his hand to his stained shirt after, the mess causing him to grimace, almost repulsed. “Fuck, it’s everywhere,” he grumbles, wedging his phone in the crook between his ear and shoulder as goes to grab some tissues. 
This, of course, makes you practically howl with laughter into the receiver—but Atsuya can’t bring himself to be pissy. Not when he hears you like this, not after you just talked him through an orgasm so explosive his legs are still trembling. 
Not while you were… well, you. 
As Atsuya does his best to wipe himself down and pull his trousers back up, your laughter eventually dies down. “Now I really wish I had been there to see that… just a pity it wasn’t inside me.” 
Atsuya pauses as he curses under his breath, his oversensitive cock twitching in his repsonse. “You and your goddamn mouth,” he mutters, dumping the soiled tissues in the toilet and flushing. “You’re the whole reason I’m in this toilet, you know.”
“Hey, you chose to open those photos in public, perv.”
He doesn’t argue with that. Though he would never admit it aloud, lest he give you the pleasure, he was weak for you. More than even he was aware of–and time away from you was only proving that.
“When are you coming back?” 
“Tomorrow morning,” you reply easily, making Atsuya wonder just how the hell you were so relaxed after supposedly edging yourself for days. “The cursed spirit was dead before twelve today. Got my nails done afterwards as a little treat.” 
Atsuya shakes his head with a snort as he steps out of the stall finally, making his way over to the sink as he continues to try and fix the damage he caused. He places his phone gently on the counter. “You’re strange, you know that?” 
You hum in agreement, and he can already envision the way your lips pull to the side in that little smile he loves so much. “You love it.” 
Atsuya washes his hand in the sink, glancing up to catch his reflection in the mirror. His face is still a little flushed, his clothes still dishevelled—he’ll definitely have to throw out his tie probably—but he realises he looks… 
…happy. 
“Yeah,” Atsuya mumbles, shaking his hands in the sink. “Yeah, I do.” 
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masterlist.
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dinogoofymutated · 1 day
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Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!
I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...
Especially for Warren....
I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.
Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)
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Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️
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Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader
OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!
Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.
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Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.
And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!
It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.
Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.
    You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!
    Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?
    “What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him. 
    “If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on. 
    “A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention. 
    “A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.
    “You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you. 
    “You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.
    “Can it, dude”
    The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.
    He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing. 
     Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.  He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief. 
...
     The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion. 
    It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind. 
    You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.
    “What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.
    “He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.
    “You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs. 
    “I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart. 
     “Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder. 
    “Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face. 
    “That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
    “You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.
    “What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.
    “I- Huh?”
    “You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.
    “What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.
    “Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.
    “By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.
    “No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He’s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.
    “Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.
    “What?” He asks.
    “Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.
    “I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.
    “Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss. 
    You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth. 
    When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?
    “...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.
    “Yeah, Probably.”
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SORSHA!!! The fuck boy besties Lix & Ji????
Omg, I was talking about them being your besties I know in college maybe roommates but them being besties & fucking you dumb after meeting in a club!🫠🫠🫠
Definitely love your pov of it💯🤌🏽
🎀
Oh no I messed it up 😫😭😭😭 I’m so sorry I misinterpreted your ask 😔🥹 I feel so silly !!!
(Annonie is referring to this ask)
But now I’m having whole other thoughts!!!
Like the three of you live together as housemates. Jisung and Felix usually go out and pick up girls to bring back to the apartment.
It’s usually your chance to stay home, have some special alone time. They get back so late and they’re so preoccupied you could be painting the living room walls and they wouldn’t know.
So.. as usual when they’re out doing what fuck boys do, you settle on your bed in just your oversized tee. You tend to your own needs. Touch yourself, finger fuck yourself, use your dildo.
What you don’t realise is that Ji and Lix, for whatever reason, come home early (and alone).
They hear your whimpers. They wonder who you have in your room.
They sneak up to the door, it’s ajar, and see you fucking yourself slow and deep with your dildo.
Jisung and Felix are mesmerised as they watch your hips rock against the toy. They subconsciously lick their lips when they see your arousal coating it each time you withdraw it from your cunt.
Jisung whimpers. Fuck! He looks at Felix who is biting his lip hungrily.
Your eyes spring open and you lift your head to see the two men staring at your pussy.
“A-are you just going to stand there?” You pant. “I know you know how to fuck a girl good…”
Jisung and Felix look at each other.
“I hear how you make them scream…while I’m here… using a fucking…toy.” You’re actually pretty close to coming. Especially having your friends eyes on you.
Felix and Jisung exchange a knowing look, and saunter into your bedroom.
“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is so wet.” Says Jisung, not only from the visual, but also how loud the wet noises were coming from your cunt.
“Let’s take this shirt of, yeah? That way we can take care of you properly.”
“You always…always…take care of random girls.” You pant.
“We’re so sorry, baby. Me and Lixi are here now.” Jisung coos as he nestles alongside your now naked body.
Felix lies on the other side of you, and starts to caress your body. He sucks on your nipple as his hands roam your stomach. “What do you think about when you touch yourself.” He whispers.
Should you tell them the truth? That you think about being one of their hookups? One of their conquests?
“Hmph.” Jisung chuckles low. “I bet our pretty baby listens to us fuck girls and imagine it’s her pussy we’re tearing up?”
Your silence followed by a hard swallow gives you way.
Jisung winks at you. “Knew it.” He whispers as his hand reaches down to grasp the dildo.
You draw in a sharp breath and then a long moan when he takes over and starts fucking you with your toy.
Felix releases your nipple with a pop. “Does our good girl imagine sucking our cocks?”
“Yes!” You cry. “Wanna taste your cocks.”
Jisung pulls the dildo from your aching cunt and tosses it to the side, and you whimper in protest.
“Shh… you’ll be filled again soon enough, sweetheart.”
They pull you off the bed to kneel on the floor and stand side by side in front of you. You watch wide eyed as they peel their clothes off and the three of you are completely naked.
They are likes pair of fucking gods. Toned, slender, strong. The sight of their very hard, and surprisingly large cocks has you poor dripping, empty, cunt clenching.
“Is our pretty girl just going to look, or is she going to open up wide?” Felix says softly. “You say you want us. Show us. Show us just how much you have been thinking about our cocks.’
They step towards you and you reach out to take hold of them. You start with Felix, taking him in as far as possible, gagging a little with your overzealous enthusiasm, while you jerk off Jisung with you other hand.
Then you swap, eventually alternating between them several times.
“Baby, you mouth. Fuck it feels perfect.”
“Look how much she can take in.”
“Someone needs to fuck me.” You moan. “Please… fill me up. Make me your slut.”
The two men groan at your filthy request, moving you back on the bed.
Jisung lays on his back while you kneel between his legs and take him deep into your throat. You want to fucking choke on his delicious cock.
“Pop your arse up for me love… that’s it.” Growls Felix, digging his fingers into your hips and guiding the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Ready?” It isn’t a question for you, but between Jisung and Felix.
Jisung tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and lifts your head until just the tip is inside your mouth. Then, as Felix pushes inside of you, Jisung pushes your head down over his cock.
They fuck you like this. Every withdrawal from Felix, Jisung releases your head up. Every thrust into your cunt was mirrored with your head being pushed down all the way to the base.
They fuck you until you come all over Felix’s cock and Felix comes all over your back. Then they swap, getting hard again quickly.
“Baby, you feel so fucking perfect. Can I come inside you?” Jisung moans.
“Yes… please…” you pop of Felix momentarily.
“Oh fuck!” You cry as you come again, then feel Jisung spill inside you. Felix follows, coating the back of your throat.
The three of you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs while you catch your breath.
“I think we need to stay in every night and fuck.” Declares Jisung.
You and Felix nod in agreement.
A/n I had to flesh this out!!! It’s rushed but I hope it still came out ok 😘😘😘
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina
@3rachasdomesticbanana
@palindrome969
@xxkissesforchanniexx
@chuuchuu1224
@fun-fanfics
@wolfennracha
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pinkpkmntrainer · 2 days
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i did it. i fucking did it. abstragedy be upon you all. finally.
***********
Zooble watched from a distance as the ringmaster shoved everyone into the portal that had just appeared. They had decided to opt out of today’s adventure, so it was just them in the circus for today. Which they didn’t mind at all, in fact, they were happy to have alone time. It gave them a chance to think clearly without any interruption from any crazy people.
“Zooble, my dear!” Caine shouted as he teleported directly in front of them out of nowhere. Ugh. Speaking of crazy people…
“Don’t call me that.” they grumbled. “I’m not your dear.”
“Right, my apologies!” the dentures replied. “But since everyone else is over at the Candy Canyon Kingdom, I was thinking that maybe you, me, and Bubble could-”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“...Ooookay. That’s a no, then. So, um…in that case, I guess you can just do whatever you want.” And with that, he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
Zooble rolled their eyes as they began to wander aimlessly. Why was it that they could never seem to catch a break? Oh well, at least now they had a bit of time to themselves. Hopefully Caine wouldn’t bother them again. It wasn’t long before their thoughts began to wander as well.
They recalled the events of the previous day, where they were kidnapped by the Gloinks and fed to their queen. They remembered the look of fear and worry on Gangle's face when they were carried off. And they remembered how, when Kinger had failed to grab them with his floating hands, they thought “If only Gangle was the one saving me”. She would've known what she was doing, plus they would've gotten to be held gently by her...
…Huh. Weird.
Brushing away those thoughts, they started to look around the giant main room. There wasn't really anything new to see, but there were things to notice. Like the dark red color of the curtains that hung over the stage, and how it reminded them of Gangle's red ribbon body. There was something so cute about the way it would wrap around you completely when she hugged you, and-
Zooble suddenly realized what they were doing, and patted their own face, bringing themselves back to reality. They just couldn't seem to focus today…
They tried to lean on one of the gigantic blocks in the room like it was a wall, but they unexpectedly slipped and hit the floor with a hard thud. Luckily there wasn't anyone around to see their embarrassing little tumble, but as they lay there shocked, they thought about all the times they saw Gangle trip and fall. Her body was so flimsy, it wasn't a surprise that it happened often. But no matter what, she always managed to get up again, which was something to be admired. And sometimes when they helped her up, she’d thank them and they’d feel all warm and fuzzy-
Zooble sat up in a panic and tapped the heel of their hand against their forehead, as if trying to shake the thoughts out of their brain. Why were they thinking like this? What was happening? 
They stood up frantically and began to walk in the direction of the hallway where everyone’s rooms were. They were supposed to go to their room, but their mind was so plagued with thoughts of Gangle, they accidentally walked to her room instead, which only made them feel worse. They slammed their forearms against the door and groaned in frustration. The door just swung open and they fell again. Zooble was feeling awful by this point, the thoughts were nice and all, but they had no idea why they were thinking these things and it was scaring the $&*! out of them. They eventually sat up and took in the sight of Gangle’s room. 
Most of the decor and furniture was in the same range of colors as Gangle herself; dark red and white shades, though things like the bedframe, wardrobe and vanity were all made of dark brown wood. Every surface was covered in craft supplies, plushies, manga, and other such things. Despite the clutter, the room was pleasant and cozy.
As if by instinct, Zooble stepped into the room and started to look around. They weren’t trying to snoop or anything, it was just that being in the room made them feel closer to the ribbon girl…if that made any sense. They eventually settled themselves into a corner, next to a box of art stuff. It was peaceful, sitting there in Gangle’s room. They sighed with relief, not feeling quite so lonely anymore. The mix-and-match toy felt like they might even fall asleep like this…
“ZOOBLE!!”
Zooble lept in place, startled by the sudden yell. Of course Caine had to ruin this for them.
“Caine, what the #&*%!?!?”
“Apologies, my mismatched pal! I simply wanted to check on you! And you had me worried for a while, I couldn’t find you anywhere!” He looked around the room with a puzzled expression. “...Why are you in Gangle’s room??”
Zooble felt their breath snag in their throat. He probably thought they were a creep or something. And they couldn’t blame him.
“...I don’t have a good answer to that question.”
Caine frowned at them. Or at least, they thought it was a frown. “What’s the matter? Are you feeling a little bit of FOMO about today’s adventure?” he inquired. Zooble would’ve laughed at his choice of words if they weren’t so lost in thought still.
“I’m fine, just lonely is all.”
“Lonely? Well, we simply can’t have that! Perhaps I could spawn in an NPC for you to talk to? Or you could hang out with me and Bubble! My offer still stands!”
Zooble drew in a sharp inhale, unsure of how to explain everything to the ringmaster.
“It's a bit more complicated than that. The truth is, I…miss someone.”
“Miss someone?” Caine was confused. His gaze wandered the room briefly, and when he looked at the portrait on the open door, it all suddenly made sense. A soft, sympathetic look faded onto his face, and he lowered himself to the ground, seating himself next to Zooble.
“…You miss Gangle?”
Zooble was surprised he got it so quickly, but nodded. They looked down at the box they were seated next to, their eyes falling on a roll of red satin ribbon. They picked it up and started to slowly wrap it around their hand. It felt almost exactly like they imagined it would feel to hold hands with Gangle…they felt their face grow warmer at the thought. They suddenly became aware of Caine mumbling something, but they couldn’t quite hear him. “What?”
“I’m sure she misses you too.”
Zooble blushed at the kind statement. “Oh…thanks.” They were silent for a long moment, then yawned and leaned on the box a little more. In their drowsy state, they didn’t even notice when Caine tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind him. It only took a moment for them to fall into a deep sleep.
Gangle tumbled out of the portal back into the main room of the circus, clutching the shattered pieces of her comedy mask as tightly as she could. As she and everyone else stood up and grumbled, Caine appeared in front of them and did his usual greeting, with all the same sickly sweet enthusiasm.
“Welcome back, superstars! I trust you all had a fun time at the Candy Canyon Kingdom?”
The sound of groaning and complaining arose from the group, which the ringmaster ignored as usual. But after he presented the performers with their reward, his jaw curled into a grin as he drifted towards Gangle, and simply said:
“Someone’s waiting for you.”
Gangle had no idea what he meant by that. She allowed him to lead her to her room, where he swung the door open to reveal…Zooble? To her surprise, the mix-and-match character was sitting in the corner of her room, fast asleep, with a bunch of satin ribbon wrapped around their hand. Her initial look of shock quickly turned into a soft smile as she stepped closer and sat down next to them.
“Have they been waiting here the whole time?” she asked, her eyes still fixed on Zooble’s sleeping face. Caine grinned cheerfully as he answered her question. “Indeed they have! I must say, you have a good friend on your hands!”
“Yeah. A good friend.” she mumbled to herself. She leaned in and planted a kiss on the sharp corner of Zooble's triangular head, a faint pink blush appearing on her porcelain cheeks. Caine's jaw curled into another wide grin as he shut the door. It was just the two of them now. A girl made of ribbons and a mix-and-match toy…
Both of them, hopelessly in love.
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sparklestheunicorn · 10 months
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I can see you is so pen and kelsea coded
#taylor swift#the tearling trilogy#ME!#(bet you bitches thought i was done)#'what would you do if i went to touch you now? what would you do if they never found us out? what would you do if we never made a sound?'#and the whole kelsea not feeling ✨️sexy✨️. and im pretty sure she thought something along the lines of what would you do if i kissed. what#would you do if we fucked right here right now#AND THEN THERES THE CHORUS 'i can see you waiting down the hall for me' HE IS HER PERSONAL GUARD. OF COURSE HES WAITING FOR HER#'and i could see you up against the wall with me' HOW SHE STARTED LOOKING FORWARD TO THEIR NIGHTS TOGETHER#and back to the first verse 'ive been watching you for ages and i spend my time trying not to feel it' girl has been watching him and wonder#ing why he hasnt made a move yet but she is the queen of a dying kingdom and has more important things to worry about than her teenage urges#'AND WE KEPT EVERYTHING PROFESSIONAL BUT SOMETHINGS CHANGED ITS SOMETHING I LIKE' like come on#pen desperately clinging to his job his duty and kelsea's just begging him to touch her#'they keep watchful eyes on us'. the mace the next day like 'ohoho what do we have here' and how he's just been so overprotective of her#not to mention the rest of her guards always watching.#'i could see you make me want you even more' THE FACT THAT SHE COULD HAVE LOVED HIM BACK. THAT SHE WAS ALMOST THERE. THAT HE WAS WHAT SHE#WAS CLINGING TO IN THE DUNGEONS OF MORTMESNE#im very happy i made this connection#needed another tearling post for a while now
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thebibliosphere · 5 months
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There are a lot of things I'm sad about in my life. You don't get to go through the kind of medical trauma I've been through and come out unscathed on the other side.
But one thing I'm really bitter about is that I can't remember my wedding anymore. The pernicious anemia took it from me and wiped my brain clean. Except it's not clean, not really. I remember it in patches. Like red wine stains on a white rug that have never quite lifted out no matter how hard you try.
I look at the pictures on my bookcase, and they feel like remembering a story someone else has told me. There's a young woman in a white dress wearing my face, and she looks happy. I'm happy for her. But you can see the strain around her eyes, too. The pain she's hiding because no one with authority believes her when she says her body doesn't feel right. That something is Wrong.
They won't believe her for another decade. They won't believe her until it's almost too late, and it's that lateness that will rob her of her memories and turn them into a wavering rainbow suspended in the fine haze of watery sunlight that occasionally surfaces through the blanks.
There's one memory that's real, though. Solid. It's not my vows. It's not my father walking me down the aisle. (Though those are there, just hazy and dream-like). It's our first dance.
It's the lights dimming around the room as the staff cleared the floor, causing the fishbowls full of white roses and LED lights on the tables to wobble like pools of moonlight against dark paneled walls.
It's the band inviting us out onto the floor and us giggling because we know what's coming next, and no one else does. It's the twang of a banjo reverberating around the room through the speakers, followed by the dulcet tones of Kermit the Frog wondering why there are so many songs about rainbows.
It's us waltzing around the enclosed circle of light, singing to each other out of tune and grinning like idiots as everyone around us starts to laugh.
It's everyone joining in on the song because it's the Muppets, and everyone knows the words. It's 100+ people singing the Rainbow Connection, some laughing, some a bit tearful, because it's bringing back memories. Because it's making a new one.
It's looking up at my new husband through the brain fog and all the pain in my body and thinking, "I want to remember this moment forever."
I don't know what entity was out there listening to me at that moment and chose to grant that wish. I don't know why this is the one memory that stuck while everything else in my brain got decimated into scattered, fragmented snapshots. But I'm so, so thankful it is.
Though, I could have done without it randomly coming on my YouTube music out of nowhere to hit me in the emotions like a brick to the back of the head. Jesus Christ.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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I am now curious what would alpha sukuna do when he get his rut but yuji simply won’t allow him to take control of his body? Sukuna as normal is feral and menace what about sukuna in his rut..but trapped.
Oh good lord. I'm having THOUGHTS.
Pairing: Alpha!Ryomen Sukuna x Omega Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, omegaverse, alpha/omega, rut, knotting, clit stimulation, mating bites, rough sex, feral sex, breeding kink, protective!Yuuji, best friend!Yuuji, alpha!Sukuna, double dick!Sukuna
Word count: 0.9k
A/N: Thinking about best friend Yuuji cockblocking Sukuna was hilarious.
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Yuuji was your best friend and an alpha. But he would never make a move on you, he didn't want to put your friendship at risk and even when you were in heat you knew you were safe around him. Lately though he's been a lot more... well... angry might be the best way to put it. He wasn't snapping at you, but at Sukuna, who would occasionally break free and rile you up just by staring at you before Yuuji could cage him back into his mind.
It seems that he's been losing that battle lately. Every time when Sukuna would kiss you or start to take your clothes off Yuuji would intervene and put a stop to it. As your friend he was only looking out for you, he knew what kind of alpha Sukuna was. Yet it was mildly annoying to and left you with an even worse ache between your legs.
He never made a move to help you out, knowing that was a friendship boundary he couldn't cross. But Sukuna could, he didn't even see you as a friend. To Sukuna you were just another omega in heat. When he finally broke free of Yuuji's hold, even just for a night he visited you immediately. He didn't want to waste time, knowing full well that it was borrowed.
Good thing you were already so wet, it made it easy to slide one of his cocks into your pussy and fuck you like you needed to be fucked. Sukuna was unlike any alpha you've been with, he was beyond animalistic, beyond feral from being kept caged for so long. The years without a vessel, and now held back by it.
You could hear Sukuna talking, but it wasn't you he was talking to, you were just the one he was fucking. "Thought you could keep me from my pretty omega huh brat? Come on, you should have known better. She wanted me from the moment she saw me." Sukuna grinned down at you and pulled your body taunt by your wrists, keeping you pressed against him while his cock pistoned in and out of your clenching pussy. "Keep complaining all you want, we both know what she really wants."
"Sukuna, I-" All breath was knocked out of your lungs when he rushed to bite your neck. It wasn't hard enough to put a real mark there but for a split second you thought he might. "Yes." You told him even before he asked.
"Heh, told you so. She wants it. Don't you pretty girl? Are you gonna let me knot your cunt?" You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. "Fuck. I can't do it if you're so tight. But I like the challenge, I'll fuck my knot into you, even if I have to break you in the process."
His threat made a flood of wetness coat his cock. You were already half-way gone for him.
Sukuna pushed his second cock across your clit, "Told you she wants it. She wants my cock, my knot, she wants to be... mine. Don't like that huh Yuuji? This pretty omega sure does. I can tell she wants it. Look at how much she wants me to breed her full of my seed."
You almost didn't want to look at him in the eye, ashamed for how Yuuji would react when he returned to his body. But Sukuna wasn't gonna let you get away with that act. He smiled at you as you hissed in pain when his third hand gripped into your hair and his fourth grabbed your chin, making it impossible not to look into his eyes.
His hips pushed flush against yours, your moans encouraging him to ram his thick cock into you, carving the shape of it into your inner walls. "You're taking it so well. An omega bitch in heat, made just for my cock." With his fast paced thrusts also came the equally fast smacks of his second cock against your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk upwards.
The spicy aggressive scent of him was driving you mad. Just the fact that his own rut got triggered by being around you when you were in heat made your cunt spasm around his cock, adding to the slippery wetness, making it easy for his knot to slip inside you. "Your knot, god..."
"Hurts?" He asked with equal parts worry and smugness.
"It's big but it feels good. I want your cum too! Please Sukuna, come inside me." The previous sense of shame you felt was gone when you felt the knot on his second cock brushing against your cunt. You couldn't take two at once but that didn't mean he couldn't switch. "I want the other one too."
"Do you? Naughty little omega. Let's see how you handle one first. Are you ready for me to give you my cum?" You nodded and let your cunt spasm around him, clamping down around his cock, your toes curling and voice on the verge of giving out as his thrusts turned short and quick. His cum splashed inside of you, safely locked inside by his knot. "Don't you dare bite my neck." He could feel your teeth grazing him. You whimpered in protest, and he seemingly had mercy.
But it wasn't his neck, it was his hand that met your teeth. Enough for now.
"So needy." He laughed at you as he pulled his hand away and kissed the bite mark you left behind. "My knots take a bit of extra time so you enjoy it while you can. As soon as it goes down I'm putting the next one into you. I'm gonna make sure to knock you up tonight." He looked behind him while snickering, and you could almost hear Yuuji's voice, cursing at him.
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hihi!! idk if ur requests are open so ignore this if they aren't!
reader was cheated on so she goes to simons house for comfort. one thing leads to another and hes saying "i bet he couldn't fuck you like this" while absolutely destroying her
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Simon grunted as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “He’s such a damn fool for what he did.”
You honestly don’t know how you ended up here. One minute you found out your boyfriend of 3 years was cheating on you, and the next you were laying underneath your best friend of 10 years as he completely worshipped you.
You should’ve known better, your boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) had so many red flags you’d lost count, but you always tried to see the best in people, never truly realizing just how hurt you could end up because of it.
Simon Riley was the one person in your life who was always your rock, always was there for you, always cared for you when nobody else bothered to. He was the only person you wanted to comfort you tonight.
He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, his hugs able to cure any emotion or ailment you may have. You’d cried your eyes out to him, let out all your frustrations into his chest as he held you close.
You never, never expected to end up kissing him, let alone finding yourself in his bed, being utterly ruined by him later that night. It was everything you never knew you hoped for. After the many years you’d been friends with him, you finally realized that he was the one you’d always wanted to be with.
“I don’t deserve you, Simon. You’re too good for me.” You cried out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix after a particular rough jut of his hips. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize.”
“You’ve got that backwards, love.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he slotted them against yours. His kiss was gentle, but so full of emotion it had your heart swelling. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day I laid eyes on you. I’m a patient man, sweet girl.”
You’d never been fucked like this before, never been worshipped like this. Your body felt weightless, a warm heat spreading throughout your body as Simon’s cock rubbed against your slick walls.
A guttural moan escaped your lips as he increased his pace, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. You felt your high rapidly approaching, as your toes started to curl, and your eyes fluttered shut. He was so fucking good at this.
“Did he make you feel this good, sweetheart?” Simon groaned, his breath fanning over your ear. “I bet he couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?”
You weakly shook your head, your mouth falling open slightly as Simon nipped at your earlobe, his thick length sliding against your walls at a frenzied pace. You’d never felt this full before, this stuffed. It felt like his cock was made just for you.
“That’s what I thought.” He purred, moving to capture your lips in his once more. His tongue darted out, exploring each and every inch of your mouth, committing your taste to memory. “Being so good for me. Can’t believe this is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing out on.”
“Simon.” You chanted, your nails digging crescents into the toned skin of his back. Soft moans and sounds of slapping skin deliciously filling the air as both of you lost yourselves in one another.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.” Simon cooed, his hands lacing with your own above your head as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at a brutal pace. “You are so incredible, love. I should’ve made you mine a long fuckin’ time ago.”
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, every emotion you were feeling bubbling to the surface. You let your eyes flutter open, your heart skipping a beat as you found Simon looking down at you with complete and utter adoration.
Any self consciousness or self loathing thoughts you may have had before being in your best friend’s arms suddenly vanished, and were now left feeling completely and utterly cherished.
You slipped your hands from Simon’s, and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. You never wanted this moment to end. “I’m yours, Simon.”
“That’s right, love. All fuckin’ mine now. I am going to ruin you for any other man, love. Gonna treat you like the princess you are.”
And he fucking did.
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papercorgiworld · 5 months
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Apologies and love confessions
The Slytherins guy’s are jealous because you have a date. When your date flops, they show up: to make up or make out, or both…
General story introduction and then you pick your favourite Slytherin. Or all of them, I won’t judge.
Theo, Blaise, Enzo, Draco and Mattheo.
Warning: a little bit of smut bc of Enzo and Mattheo ofc.
Not proofread, so if a sentence hurts your brain, my apologies. Let me know and safe an innocent reader.
After months of not writing, I present you… whatever this is.
You took one last look in the mirror and turned to your friends, Pansy and Hermione. “Acceptable?” You asked sheepishly. “More than acceptable.” Hermione smiled. “Hot.” Pansy bluntly stated.
It was a late Saturday afternoon as you made your way to the great hall to meet your date. A few days ago, Neal - a Ravenclaw one year older than you - had asked you out. You hadn’t talked much but all of your friends liked him and he wasn’t bad looking. As you almost reached the great hall you ran into the notorious Slytherin boys. When you spotted them you wanted to turn on your heels, but Enzo already called for you. “Y/n, you’re looking fine.” He slurred the last word a bit as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks went red as all the guys stared. “Ah, your date’s today, right?” Blaise asked nonchalantly. You nodded, getting a little nervous. “What was his name again? Dirk… Dean?” Draco asked with his usual voice filled with arrogance and annoyance. His eyebrows went up and down as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. “Neal. And I should be going.” You blurted. Theodore was slow to move aside and you passed him, his eyes never leaving you. As you walked away you could hear Mattheo snicker and your heart sank.
Up until recently you had gotten along with them just fine. You were Pansy’s friend and by association also theirs. Just like you were Ron and Harry’s friend because of your friendship with Hermoine. However, there was a difference. You always wanted to be liked by the Slytherin guys, or just by one. Unfortunately, ever since you mentioned you were going on a date they had collectively decided to ridicule your every move. Making you feel terribly insecure.
***
Your date flopped. Neal was a great guy. Accept for the fact that he was obviously still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When you entered the Three Broomsticks and chose a table near a window, he told you his ex liked to sit by the window too. When you ordered drinks, Neal told you his ex didn’t like your choice of drink. When he mentioned her for a third time, you fell silent and gave him a tight lipped smile. Oh Merlin. This was the worst.
After a little over an hour you said your awkward goodbyes. You started to walk back to Hogwarts, dreading the idea of telling your friends about your date or worse all those other gossiping people finding out.
As you arrived at the courtyard the ones you wanted to avoid most were there. You tried to subtly speed walk past them. This time it was Mattheo who was first to speak. “Y/n! You’re back early.” You simply sighed and Mattheo smirked. “How long were you gone? Didn’t even last two hours.” Mattheo turned to Theodore who let out a short laugh. Pansy who sat next to Enzo shot up and started yelling. “Oi, shut it!” Your friend took your arm to guide you away from them, towards the castle. “Pay up, Blaisy-boy. Not even two hours, so I win.” You heard Riddle say and you shot one last look at them, seeing how Blaise grimaced and reached inside his pockets to pay up. You were nothing more than a joke to them.
Pansy held onto your arm while you walked towards your common room. Hermoine spotted you from afar and pushed Ron and Harry aside to get to you. “So how was i…” Hermoine’s question was cut of my Pansy aggressive signal to shut up. “So, should we hex him?” Hermoine suggested as she saw that your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, it’s not him. I mean it was a bad date. But, so what. No biggie. But those, those, those… twats! They, they are the worst!” You yell, attracting the attention of students nearby. Hermoine looks over to Pansy with a confused look. “Will hex all five of them.” Pansy said and Hermoine caught on, she knew exactly which five morons you were talking about.
You nodded and sighed. “I need a moment alone. I’m going up to the astronomy tower for some quiet time.” Your friends were understanding and you left.
Theodore
“This is my hang-out.” Theodore says, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. “This is the spot people go to when they’re sad. If this is your hang-out, then that says a lot about you.” Theo halts for a moment, feeling a little exposed by your analysis, but joins you nevertheless, his arms resting on the railing. You notice how he plays with a cigarette between his fingers. “I won’t light it. I know you don’t like it when I smoke.” You raise your eyebrows. “I also don’t like it when you ridicule me, but that’s never stopped you or your merrie band of delinquents from mocking me.” Now, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
He’s about to open his mouth and give you some lame excuse for his behavior, but you stare at him with unimpressed eyes. So, he closes his mouth and lets out a nervous laugh. He takes a step back from the railing and throws his hands up in surrender. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been on my best behavior the past week.” Now, he has your full attention. You wanna hear what he has to say. “But neither have you.” He points to you and you scoff, no longer wanting to listen. “Going on a date with… what’s his name again. Of course everyone’s laughing.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.” You sigh.
“How about you go out with me? No one will laugh.” When you didn’t immediately respond he tried to sell the idea a little. “I’ll tell Matt and the others to behave. No more mocking.” You tilt your head in amusement to his suggestion. This guy, unbelievable. “You can do that, tell them to behave?” Theo takes a step closer towards you, leaving no space between you two. “Uhu.” He absentmindedly breathes while his hand softly caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And will you behave?” You ask, subtly taunting him. “I’ll be good.” He says softly and licks his lip.
“I’ll think about it.” You say taking a step and putting some distance between you two. But Theo quickly reaches for your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Don’t play with me.” As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are on yours. The kiss is filled with longing, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in. Theo pushes you against the railing, never breaking the kiss. Your hand finds their way to his messy hair. The more you tug on one another and push into each other, the sloppier the kiss gets. He squeezes your ass and as a reflex you gently buck your hips into him. “Fuck.” He growls. You smile at his reaction and seize the moment to push him away.
Walking past him, you never take your eyes off the confused man. “I’m looking forward to that date.”
Blaise
“I lost a bet because of you.” Blaise says with a loud voice while he’s still on the stairs almost at the top, but still out of sight. You turn towards the stairs waiting for him to arrive. “I mean really, not even two hours.” “No.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “I mean you're annoying sometimes, but-“ You shove his shoulder. “I was not annoying! I AM never annoying. I’m a blessing to be around.” He raises his eyebrows, but you ignore him and continue your rant. “You! You on the other hand are frankly unbelievably childish!” You poke his chest, being more than a little shocked at how muscular he is, but you push that thought aside. “Betting on my misery, have you no shame!”
He spreads his arms in defense. “Well, that was Mattheo’s idea. No morals, that guy.” You raise an eyebrow in response. Just Mattheo. Think not. All of you, you’re a bunch of demon children. “You joined in.” You throw at him, like a lawyer making their case. “And lost.” Blaise says sheepishly. “Don’t be mad at me. I lost money, my day is already bad enough.” You turn on your heels, away from him. “Well what about my shitty day.”
“Ah, about that, your shitty day, I can make it better.” In a split second you’re facing him again, eyes shining with curiosity. “This better be good, Zabini.” He simply grinned. “There’s this guy, who’s been into you for months now. Incredibly hot. Sixpack and everything. Really into quidditch, a bit of a jock, but also really likes wizard chess and magic history. And has a soft side, secretly loves to watch muggle-movies. That’s some boyfriend material, uh?” You’ve been nodding along searching for the catch.
“What’s the catch, Zabini, no dude’s that good. Definitely not one that happens to have a thing for me.” He smiles as takes a step closer. “He would like to ask you out. So.. what do y’say?” You drop your head and shake no. “I’m not going out with him until you tell me what the catch is.” “Fineee, the catch is… he’s me.” You frown in confusion. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to go out with me?” A nervous and adorable smile appears on his face. “Yeah, and I would like it to last longer than two hours.” You give his shoulder a little push. “Depends, are you going to talk about your ex the entire time?” “What? That’s how Dirk ruined your date? What a git.” His name was Neal, but whatever. I got a new and better date.
Enzo
Enzo has his back against the railing. His eyes trace your face. “Didn’t go well did it?” Your eyes meet his and he sees your forehead wrinkle at his stupid question. “Well, look on the bright side. You’re back on the market.” You shift yourself so you’re leaning against the railing with your side and facing Enzo. “I was never off the market. I went on one date.” He also shifted so he’s facing you. “Yeah, you’re right. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have worried so much.” You look confused at him, but he doesn’t immediately explain. “Why were you worried?”
“Well, uhm, you know, maybe you would’ve liked him.” He tried his best to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. You took a small step towards him. “Why would that be a bad thing?” He huffed like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s wrong to ask out a girl who's dating.” You frown. “You’ve lost me, Enzo, I don’t follow.”
“Wait, wait. This will clear it up.” He closes the space between you two and cups your cheek. What followed was the softest kiss ever. After a moment you both opened your eyes, but didn’t move away from each other. “See, I couldn’t have done that if you were dating Neal.” You nodded. “I follow.” You brushed your lips over his. A cheeky smile covered his face. “You know, if you’re interested… there are a lot of things we can do now that it’s just you and me.” “Care to give an example.”
“My pleasure.” Is all he says before his hands find their way to your hips lifting you up. Your legs tangle around him as he pushes you against a wall. The cold stone makes you arch into him. His mouth nips on the flesh of your neck. “You and I should go on a date.” Enzo breathes in between kisses. “You two need to find a room.” You're both startled by Neville’s sudden appearance. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Enzo says, looking at you with lust. “Mine or yours?” You ask as you lick your bottom lip.
Draco
You sighed, letting the view and silence calm you. Suddenly you hear footsteps and when you look up Draco’s walking towards you with his usual flair. “What a tool, that Neal-guy. Taking you to the Three Broomsticks.” You roll your eyes and look away from him. “You should’ve known, a guy like him is no good.” Before he opens his mouth again you whip your head around towards him, eyes ready to kill. “He’s no good? Neal’s not the problem. You are! You’re no good, with you mocking and ridiculing. You’ve been acting like a total ass the last few days! So get lost, Malfoy!”
Draco remains quiet for a moment. The frown on his face grows as he realizes his jealousy might have taken the upper hand these past few days. Falling back in his normal composure, his hands reach for the cold railing as he comes to stand next to you. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea. You, going out with him. You need someone who buys you a dress and takes you to a fancy place.” When you look up at him in confusion, he continues staring in front of him. “I think you deserve better.” You huff, indulging his lame excuse for his behavior. “Know any guy like that?” You blurt out thinking back to your miserable date.
Draco inspects the rings on his fingers as he searches for the courage to say what he so badly wanted to say these last couple of days. “Me.” He says so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you did and you look up at him with wide eyes. Where is this going? “I would like to take you somewhere fancy. Spoil you.” You let out a laugh and he immediately snaps at you. “No, need to laugh. A simple ‘no thanks’ would have sufficed.” You press your lips together and take a step towards him. The scowl on his face falls when your hand reaches for his tie, gently playing with it. “I think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Malfoy.” Your face inches towards him and his lips brush yours.
The kiss immediately becomes more passionate and his hand tangles in your hair holding you in place. His other hand snakes to the small of your back pulling you close. You whimper softly at the feeling of your bodies against one another. This gives him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. You break apart to catch your breath, but you stay close. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Draco scoffs. “Not. It’s simply a matter of principle. Classy women belong with classy men.” You roll your eyes. “Draco, kiss more, talk less.” He huffs in annoyance, but obliges.
Mattheo
“I told you so.” Mattheo’s voice sang as he approached you. You didn’t turn around, instead you just rolled your eyes. “That guy just wasn’t for you. Don’t be so upset about it.” You shook your head. What’s he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be laughing behind your back with friends? When you stayed quiet Mattheo got worried and his tone softened. “He didn’t hurt you or anything? ‘Caus I’ll deal with him. He’ll never bother you again.” Okay that’s it, Riddle. You angrily grab onto the railing you were leaning on before turning around fuming. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just boring. But you on the other hand, you hurt me with your constant mockery. So why don’t you punch yourself in the face and stop bothering me.” Mattheo looked away from you for a moment, making you think he actually felt bad. But when he looked back up, he was back to being his cocky self. “Can’t punch this pretty face.” He said, pointing at himself, grinning.
You turned away from him, hoping that he would leave. You couldn’t see it but his face fell again, really feeling bad about hurting you with his stupid jokes. “I just knew he wasn’t the guy for you.” No reaction from you. “Look, we can split my win from the bet with Blaise.” You let your head fall, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. The audacity. He came to stand next to you and also rested his arms on the railing. “I know, I can be an ass sometimes. So, just tell me, love, how do I make this right.” Your eyes meet his, you’re surprised by his gesture. “I guess it’s alright. I’m a forgiving soul.” He turns away from the view, towards you and lays a hand on the small of your back. “No, don’t be forgiving. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
He uses his body language to make it clear that he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you, shuffling closer, leaning into you and licking his lips suggestively. “Are you really trying to seduce me into forgiving you?” You ask not believing that that’s the best he can come up with. “Well no, love, I’m going to fuck you into forgiving me.” This man. Who does he think he is… well, the dark lord’ son, but still. Unbelievable. Mattheo falls to his knees, his hands moving from your back, sliding over your ass to your legs. He looks up at you with soft eyes before gently pushing your skirt up. This man… should be my future husband. Mattheo places soft kisses on your thight, slowly getting closer to your panties.
You close your eyes and let out a soft moan as he gently tugs down your panties. “If we get caught up here. I’m never going to forgive you.” He places a featherlight kiss between your legs and you instinctively reach for his curls. “Are you sure? Because I think I’m really excelling at apologizing, don’t you think so, love?” Damn you, Riddle. You’re good, and you know it.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
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writing-fanics · 3 months
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don’t mess with the devil
Part ii
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]
Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”
“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.
You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.
“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.
A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.
“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.
He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.
“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.
Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.
“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.
Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.
You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.
Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?
Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?
“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.
“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.
Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.
“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.
“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.
Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.
You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.
Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.
Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.
How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.
A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.
Y/n?
Y/n?
Y/n!
who’s calling my name?
3K notes · View notes
rafesmuse · 14 days
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the red means i love you — r.c.
pairing: dark!rafe cameron x dark!reader
warnings: 18+ smut, murder, vaginal sex, extreme violence, stabbing, blood, knifeplay (carving), bloodplay, possessive and obsessive behaviour (reader and rafe), fingering, hair pulling, slight spanking, toxic relationship, reader and rafe are both fucked in the head
word count: 5k
summary: in a relationship fueled by hidden obsession and jealousy, you and your boyfriend are more alike than you initially thought.
moodboard // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist
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You hummed along to the song blasting from your speakers, stretched out on your stomach while absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, your long nails tapping against the screen. With your boyfriend away on their annual family vacation, you were left restless and bored. Since you started dating him a year ago, you've spent practically every moment together, causing your hobbies and personal interests to gradually fade, along with your sense of individuality. He was the centre of your world, everything in your life revolved around him— you were willing to go to any lengths for him, and you knew he would do the same for you. What you both didn’t know, was how far you would be willing to go for each other.
Yawning while watching the nth slime scoopability video on your TikTok for you page, a notification popped up on your phone— rafe_cameron posted a new picture! You instantly tapped on it, having notifications turned on for a reason only to find a photo of your boyfriend on a yacht, clad in nothing but his blue swimsuit. Fuck. His defined abs, the tight shorts showing his bulge through the fabric, his hair messy and slightly wet— you instantly felt an ache between your legs, prompting you to rub your thighs together.
Though it had only been a few days since you had last seen him, his absence weighed heavy and the picture didn’t help. You found yourself analysing every single detail of the picture, but your focus kept going back to his bulge as you could practically feel his cock filling you up so perfectly like he does every night again, except for tonight. You were desperately craving his touch, and just as you were about to reach your hand into your shorts to relieve the achy feeling, your mood was ruined when you checked the comment section.
oliviaprentiss4: looking good Cameron! 😍
Bang. You threw your phone aggressively at the wall while letting out a piercing scream as your breaths grew shallow and fast, anger coursing through your veins. Fucking bitch. Of course it’s Olivia, who goes after your man every chance she gets. Despite Rafe's constant assurances that she's just a friend and nothing more, as a girl yourself, you can't help but notice the subtle flirtations — the way she twirls her blonde locks while gazing up at him with fuck-me eyes whenever they talk. You're not stupid.
You fixed your gaze intently on the wall, attempting to collect your thoughts and calm your breathing as a plan dawned upon you. Swiftly grabbing the lip gloss from the bedside table next to you, you hastily reapplied it before gathering your phone from the ground and switching to the camera app. You raised your phone in the air, pushing your tits up and pulling your top down just a tad bit, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination as you snapped a few pictures while switching poses.
Brandon is gonna fucking love these, you thought to yourself while scrolling through your camera roll, referring to a fratboy you met at a party before you started dating Rafe. You hooked up with him once, seeing him as nothing more than just a one-night stand, but he became obsessed with you after that— replying to your Instagram stories daily and asking you to hang out at least once a week. You knew he would comment if you posted a few sexy pics, and you were right.
brandontheman: cute top, but im more interested in whats under it ;)
You bit your lip as an amused but sinister smile spread across your face, knowing it would infuriate Rafe. Clicking back on his profile to check the new picture once more, you noticed new comments had been added. Your smile abruptly vanished as you glanced at Rafe's comments section again, feeling the anger that had started to subside returning with force.
rafe_cameron: @ oliviaprentiss4 Thanks liv.
Liv. He fucking calls her Liv. Fucking asshole. You muttered curses under your breath, fists clenching as your breathing quickened and your jaw tightened again. He could've simply ignored her. Or deleted her comment. Or blocked her when you started complaining about the bitch four months ago. But no— the fucking idiot calls her Liv, for everyone to see, including you.
With hands trembling from sheer rage, you redirected your attention to your phone before switching profiles. rafe_cameron. Now, you wouldn't exactly label yourself as toxic for having his profile logged in on your phone. You're just, you know, keeping an eye on him, with the best intentions after all. Even though he was unaware that you peeked into his phone to get his password when he was showering. Hmm. Okay, maybe you were a little toxic, you can admit that much. But being toxic means being smart so you went to settings and disabled notifications, ensuring Rafe wouldn’t suspect a thing before tapping on his chat with Olivia.
As you scrolled through the chat, nothing new caught your eye, which didn't come as a surprise given that you checked his profile on a daily basis. It was the usual— Olivia showering him with compliments whenever he posted a picture of himself, and him graciously thanking her. You shook your head in disbelief, your jaw tensing with anger at his consistent responses to her. She was a big problem— a serious threat to your relationship, and you desperately needed to get rid of her. You took a deep breath, hoping your plan would succeed, before typing out a message.
rafe_cameron: hey liv.
oliviaprentiss4: hey rafey!
Rafey. Oh, this bitch really wants to die.
rafe_cameron: my girlfriend is out of town tonight. wanna come over?
oliviaprentiss4: sounds good! I’ll be there at 9!! 🤍
Not a girl’s girl, huh? You scoffed at how easily she agreed to a man cheating on his girlfriend, yet a small smile tugged at your lips as it seemed that your plan was starting to take work. Now you just had to figure out how to get inside Tannyhill, but let’s be real— breaking in is the easiest part of it all.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the Cameron’s estate except for a few lights that you hastily switched on when you arrived five minutes before nine. It was quiet; the only sounds in the eerie mansion were the ticking of a clock and a few birds chirping outside.
You were impatiently sitting on the couch, waiting for Olivia, with your knee bouncing up and down— not from nerves though, but rather, excitement. A wicked grin spread across your face as you heard the doorknob turn, followed by cautious footsteps on the wooden floor. Olivia gasped audibly when she spotted you, her face flushing bright red as she stumbled over her words, too stunned to articulate a coherent sentence.
“I- Sorry, Rafe said- I mean. I thought you wouldn’t-“ “You thought what, exactly? That you could fuck my boyfriend without me knowing? God, you really are such a stupid, fucking bitch.”
Your words hit her hard, causing her to freeze in place as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. She realized she fucked up bad when she caught the insane, psychotic glare in your narrowed eyes, which was filled with unmistakable hatred directed at her. It sent shivers down her spine— she came to the stark realization that you were more than simply a jealous girlfriend; she was fearing for her life.
You rose from the couch and marched towards her, causing her to take steps back in panic, her eyes widening in terror. But you were quicker, consumed by rage. She cried out in agony as you seized a handful of her blonde hair, and violently hauled her towards the ground until she smashed into the floor with a loud thud.
“Tsk, so many men, and still, you had to choose mine. Dumbest decision you could make, Liv. And you’re gonna fucking regret it.” You hissed as you straddled her. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling disoriented from her head hitting the floor as she confusedly gazed up at you. It was over for her. You knew it, she knew it. The poor girl gulped when you took a knife out of your back pocket— the pocket knife that Rafe bought you to defend yourself from men. Oh, if only he knew. Thank you baby, best present ever.
“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I will use this cute little knife to stab you, okay? Not just once though, no, there’s no fun in that.” Now, this was the moment where she broke down in tears, pleading for you to let her go. You revelled in the sense of power, devoid of any trace of empathy, as you observed the girl's panicked state with streaks of mascara running down her face. What the fuck did she expect? It’s the consequences of her own actions.
You gripped her face tightly, sharp nails pressing into her skin as you forced her to meet your gaze, her eyes wide with fear and brimming with tears as they met yours. She was frozen in place, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of dread. “Hey, hey, just shut up for a moment and let me do my thing, okay? This is my moment and I can’t have you fucking it up. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
You paused and slowly closed your eyes, savouring the momentary bliss until Olivia interrupted you, prompting an irritated exhale and forcing your eyes to reopen. “Let me go, please! I wasn’t even gonna do anything with him! I promise!” she attempted and pleaded for one last time, despite knowing deep down that it wouldn't change anything. Your hatred was too strong, as evidenced by your eyes— the psychotic look on your face caused goosebumps to form all over her body.
“You think…” you started, breath quickening in growing anger as your jaw tensed, shaking your head and snickering in disbelief, “…you can fucking LIE TO ME?” you screamed before raising the knife in the air, not wasting any more time as she only fuelled your rage further, followed by bringing it back down, right into her chest next to her silver necklace with the letter ‘O’ attached to it. She let out a piercing scream out of agony before you quickly pulled the knife out, blood spurting in every direction possible just like in slasher movies, making you forget for a moment that this was real life. You were so caught up in the moment— it felt therapeutic in a way to finally release all of your pent-up rage.
“Don’t” stab. “touch” stab. “my” stab. “man, Liv.” stab, stab, stab.
Your heart raced as you witnessed the life drain from her ocean-blue eyes, a rush of power and exhilaration consuming you as you smiled down at her with a manic glint in your eyes. You experienced a strange sense of peace along with a wave of relief washing over you. Problem solved.
Standing up again, you had to steady yourself as you felt slightly lightheaded with adrenaline rushing through your body. You wiped the remaining blood from your face with your shirt before hearing a faint scream coming from upstairs, making you gasp as your heart beat out of your chest. What the fuck? You were convinced that no one was home, the entire Cameron family on their yearly vacation far, far away.
The screams came to an abrupt halt followed by a loud thud before hearing a person grunt, as if they were struggling while carrying something heavy. Fuck fuck fuck. This was when you started to panic. Whoever it was coming down the stairs right now was about to witness you fully covered in blood with a fucking dead body lying next to you on the floor. It was over.
“Shit man… why’s it never the skinny, short guys she fuckin’ falls for?” you heard a familiar voice complain, making you blink your eyes a few times as you saw your boyfriend descend the stairs while dragging a lifeless body behind him. “…Rafe?” you uttered, making him snap his head to the side, startled by your sweet-laced voice calling out his name.
First, his gaze fell on you, locking his blue eyes with yours, both widening in shock while staring at each other. Oh, he really fucked up, he thought, until he noticed the corpse next to you with the knife in your right hand, fresh blood dripping from it onto the floor. He then turned to face the body he was dragging down the stairs, blinking several times as he attempted to process the bizarre situation.
“Oh shit. We’re like that one Spiderman meme, babe.” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side as you watched the body comically fall down each step with a thud, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind. Rafe looked at you in astonishment, before his face quickly turned into one of absolute fury with nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. You knew that look on your boyfriend’s face— he was about to freak the fuck out. “ooohh my god, oh my god… what— what the FUCK are you doing?!”
Your face instantly dropped as you scoffed at the hypocrisy, “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing?” you hurriedly marched towards him, casually stepping over the girl’s lifeless body with the bloody knife still in your right hand. With your faces merely inches away, you stared into his enraged, narrowed blue eyes before turning your attention to the body resting against the stairs. Brandon. The poor boy has been beaten to death with what you assume Rafe’s baseball bat, which has been sitting in the corner of his room untouched for quite some time, always leaving you wondering why he still had that thing. Well, that question was answered now. Brandon’s face was nearly unrecognisable, it was not a nice sight. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and it was clear Rafe used Brandon’s body to get all his aggression out.  
Your attention was then drawn to the once-white carpet he was standing on, which was now ruined and completely covered in blood. “Oh, and real smart, Rafe. Letting a body bleed all over your fucking carpet. What are you gonna tell your family, huh?” You snorted, taking in the mess that Rafe had made all over the house.
“That’s… that’s what you’re fuckin’ worried about here!? Just… I—  I don’t know, say you were on your period or some shit, jesus.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously not thinking about the fucking carpet right now as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts while squinting his eyes, still trying to figure out who the body was on the other end of the room.
“Is that— is that Oliv-“ “ON MY PERIOD, RAFE?! I’D BE FUCKING DEAD ALREADY IF THAT’S HOW MUCH I BLEED EACH MONTH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
Rafe briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, attempting to block out your exasperating voice but failing miserably as it was the only thing he could hear at that moment. His breathing accelerated and his eyes narrowed as his frustration reached its boiling point, his vision blurred with a red haze of anger before punching a hole in the wall, the impact echoing throughout the room, sending shockwaves of sound outward. “FUCK! Why do you— why you always gotta fuck things up for us, huh? Can’t you just be a normal fucking girlfriend for once? Jesus fucking christ.”
A normal girlfriend? Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces at his words. Each syllable fell like a knife to the heart, leaving you more vulnerable and hurt. In that moment, you realized with a sense of sorrow that no matter how much you loved him, it would never be enough. Tears from sheer rage and heartache began to well up in your eyes as your grip on the knife tightened. You felt so misunderstood— why couldn’t he just see that no girl could ever love him the way you do? That everything you do is for him?
“I— I did this for you, Rafe, for us. Can’t you fucking see that? She was gonna— fuck—  she was gonna ruin what we have!” you spoke in a trembling but urgent voice, swaying the knife in front of his face as blood splattered all over the walls, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, you hear me? ANYTHING! Nothing is ever gonna get between us, Rafe. And no one— no one will ever love you more than I do.” His eyes were eerily still, devoid of any trace of humanity, as he stood frozen, listening to your ramblings. It only fuelled your rage more, as you so desperately tried to get it through his head that you did it for him, with the best intentions, but Rafe gave no reaction.
“I just—  I just don’t get it… How the FUCK is this my-“ you continued with tears streaming down your face but gasped when you were abruptly interrupted by Rafe grabbing your face, leaving a red blood imprint on your cheek before pushing you against the cold wall followed by his lips meeting yours in a fervent urgency. His body was pressed against yours with his hand gripping the back of your head, pushing you deeper into him to intensify the kiss as your tongues danced together. At that moment, all your surroundings melted away as you were lost in the overwhelming need for each other.
Because oddly, it turned him on— your insanity turned him on. It stirred a sensation of warmth, a tingling feeling, and a deep sense of gratitude within him. Knowing someone loved him to the point of being willing to do anything for him, even if that meant killing— that was all Rafe needed in his lonely existence, longing for someone to love him with the same intensity he felt for them. Rafe Cameron just needed to be loved.
“You’re— you’re… fuckin’ perfect.” Rafe whispered, his voice laced with an unfamiliar sweetness as his blue eyes intensely gazed into yours. Perfect? You blinked a few times as you shook your head, unable to process the sudden change in demeanour. “W-what?” you stared at him before he cupped your face with both hands, a look of solace and devotion on his blood-stained face. “Listen to me, yeah? ‘m never gonna let you go, I fuckin’ promise that. I’d do anything for you— anything, you hear me? Gonna take good fuckin’ care of my girl, a’ight?”
A relieved smile graced your lips, a chuckle escaping as you found comfort before you leaned in to kiss him once more, the embrace deeper and more intense than before, filled with longing and desire. He pushed you towards the couch, making you stumble backwards while feeling more aroused with each step you took. It was a bizarre scene— both of you covered in fresh blood, hungrily touching every part of each other’s bodies, with two corpses on the floor next to you, still bleeding all over. But that wasn’t any of your concern at that moment. All you cared about was how his skilled hands moved over your skin, making you crave him even more.
Rafe, on the other hand, felt he still had something to prove— as if murdering a man wasn’t enough. He needed you to know how good he could make you feel. He needed you to understand that no man on this planet could treat you better than him. You could see it in his lustful eyes as he pushed you back on the couch, followed by him crawling on top of you and attacking your still blood-covered neck with hungry kisses. The ticklish feeling of Rafe’s mouth made you giggle as the metallic tang of blood flooded his senses, coating his tongue with an iron bitterness that lingered long. He didn’t know whose blood it even was, maybe both of theirs together mixed with yours, by the way he was so aggressively biting and sucking on your skin.
“Mine. All fuckin’ mine. Got it?” he snarled as he withdrew and grasped your face tightly, forcing you to look him into his intense eyes. You agreed with a nod, flashing a naughty smile as you gazed up at him coyly through your lashes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t wanna go around killin’ the entire neighbourhood.” He growled, before trailing his lips to your earlobe, gently sucking on it as his expensive cologne filled your nostrils. “But I will if I have to.” His voice raspy as he spoke, making you become wetter with each passing second.
“Hm, i don’t doubt that.” You remarked before a moan escaped your lips caused by Rafe’s hand groping your tits under your shirt, massaging them over the laced bra that he bought for you. “But know that I would kill the entire female population of the Outer Banks.” He couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, still wrapping his head around just how insane his girlfriend truly was. “You’re so fucked in the head, shit.“ he whispered, pulling your bra down and toying with your nipples, making you bite your lip, “Just how I like it.”
Rafe then grabbed the knife from where you had dropped it next to the couch, skilfully twirling it a few times. You observed him with a rush of anticipation, uncertain of his intentions. He slid the knife beneath your top, eliciting a gasp as he swiftly sliced through the fabric, ruining your clothes, before repeating the action with your shorts.
“Rafe, what the fuck!” You hissed in annoyance as he destroyed your clothes. “Those were my favourites! Oh, don’t you fucking dare do the same with my underwear” It was evident he wasn't taking you seriously, the smug smile on his face only grew bigger before he slipped the knife under your bra and cut it open as well in one swift motion.
“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know I can buy you anything you want, yeah?” Your lace underwear was next, leaving you inwardly agitated as he cut the fabric and flung it across the room. Seeing your dejected expression, he released an exasperated sigh. “Stop with the whining. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, a’ight?”
He seized you by the hips and quickly turned you around, pressing your face into the cushion before you could comprehend what was happening as in an instant, you found yourself face down with your ass up, angled towards him. “Fuckin’ soaked already, huh?” He suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and raised your head, then stuck his blood-covered fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his digits with a mixture of blood and drool running down your chin while feeling his clothed boner press against your bare ass. “Yeah— that’s right baby. Lick my fingers clean like a good fuckin’ girl.” You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs before Rafe scooped it up with his now clean fingers and slipped them into you from behind, making you let out a hitched breath at the sudden sensation as you moaned his name.
It didn’t take long for his digits to find your g-spot as he skilfully rubbed against it, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your pornographic moans combined with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you made it difficult for him to control himself any longer, so he abruptly pulled out, causing you to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “You bitch! I was so fucking close!” Rafe’s hand reeled back before you felt a stinging pain on your ass, making you jolt forward on the couch. “Watch that fuckin’ mouth if you wanna cum.”
You heard the unbuckling of a belt behind you followed by feeling Rafe’s erection teasing your folds, dragging the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your wetness. Growing increasingly impatient, you tried to push yourself back onto his cock, to no avail as he held your hips firmly. “Aww, poor girl wants it bad, huh?” his voice laced with faux sympathy. “Then beg for it.”
“Rafe just fucking do-“ your words were quickly interrupted by him grasping your hair and leaning down to your eye level. “I said fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Fuck. Please, okay! I need to feel you! Just, please, fuck me” Rafe pushed himself into you in one quick thrust, swallowed by your warmth as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He gave you no time to adjust as he stretched you out completely, causing a brief sensation of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. He let out a sigh at the feeling, one hand on your lower back and the other on your hip as he quickly set a brutal pace— deep, erratic thrusts hitting your sweet spots so perfectly. Your nails scraped against the leather of the couch, nearly tearing it apart as you pushed yourself back onto Rafe’s cock, making him grunt at the sight. He massaged your inner walls so perfectly, making you moan his name loudly over and over again.
Rafe suddenly stopped in his tracks, cautioning, “Stay still or this will hurt, like bad, a’ight?”, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion before hearing him reach for the knife once again from next to him, sending a gulp down your throat. You tensed, anticipating the sensation, well aware of what was about to happen, just as you felt the sharp edge of the blade against your delicate skin while he was still balls deep inside of you. “So fuckin’ pretty all covered in blood, shit.” You could feel the letters he was etching into your skin— R.C., his initials. Once he was done, he tossed the knife on the floor before quickly pulling out, causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling as he leaned down, licking up your blood that was dripping from the fresh wounds, mingling with Olivia's still-stained blood on your skin. “Forever mine.”
Rafe slapped your ass once again, causing you to cry out from the stinging pain of his hand making contact with the fresh carvings on your skin. “Now, where were we?” He slipped into you again as he mercilessly continued his thrusts, strangled noises leaving your mouth at the sudden feeling. He noticed your moans were muffled by the pillow so he grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it firmly, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.
“Shit, look at ya now. Not so tough anymore, huh?” Rafe groaned as he pounded into you, his brutal thrusts making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your vision started to blur. “Shut— up.” You muttered in between his thrusts, your mind all fuzzy as his tip repeatedly hit your cervix. You clenched around him when he kept hitting that one spot inside you, the pleasure building as you could feel his cock twitching inside you.
You arched your back with your eyes fluttering shut as felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m— I’m so fucking close, oh my god” You moaned out with your mouth agape, nails digging deep into the skin of his arm that was wrapped around your body as the sensation became too much for you.
“Come f’me, doll. Gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good” Rafe’s hand snaked around your body to rub fast circles on your sensitive clit, making you moan loudly as your orgasm abruptly struck you, causing you to clench hard around his cock with buckling knees. All your muscles tensed as you saw stars, a wave of pleasure fully overtaking you with Rafe still pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. He came not too long after you, slow and drawn-out curses spilling from his lips with his head thrown back as you could feel the familiar pool of warmth fill you up to the brim, completely emptying himself inside of you as his orgasm hit him.
He rode out his high before he carefully pulled out as your chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, each breath a struggle to fill your lungs with air while trying to regain your breath. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Rafe praised, staring at your cum-dripping cunt with a grin on his face.
As you opened your eyes, the harsh reality crashed over you like a wave, sending a shiver down your spine at the sight of the lifeless bodies lying across the floor. Panic laced your voice as you turned to face Rafe, desperation evident in your words. "Rafe? What the fuck are we going to do with the bodies?"
His response was surprisingly calm, his tone carrying an unsettling assurance. "Don't worry ‘bout that. I'll take care of it, a’ight?"
The eerie composure in his voice sent a chill down your spine, hinting at a familiarity with murdering that made your stomach churn. "What? How— how do you know how to clean up bodies?"
A sinister smirk crept onto his handsome features, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion and disbelief before his blue eyes stared deep into yours, holding you in their gaze with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Princess, what do you think happened to poor Jake last month? And Dylan before that?”
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kitten4sannie · 17 days
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backstage back shots with san ♡
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a/n: listennnnn im still fighting with writer’s block and it’s winning i’m not even gonna lie to you but …… COACHELLA SAN. i wrote this in twenty minutes so please don’t expect a full fledged masterpiece TT that being enjoy the brainrot babes <333
w.c: around 500 words
warnings: reader’s older in this (she’s their manager shjsdh), dom! san, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi public sex, tit play, unprotected sex, back shot
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Once San left that stage, he could feel his heart pounding against his glistening chest, his ears still ringing from the intense surge of adrenaline outlining his wired brain and body, and he could still hear their fans chanting and cheering for them, even as he made his way through the hectic backstage area. All of it concocted an invigorating mix of exhilaration inside San that he couldn’t shake. It almost bordered arousal.
It didn’t help when he saw you, Ateez’s precious manager, opening your arms up to him for a hug with a bright smile on your face, tears in your eyes, and an endless bout of praise leaving your pretty lips.
“I’m so, so proud of you, San…” you whispered into his ear, unaware of the state he was in, until you felt something hard pressing into your lower abdomen.
“How proud, Manager-nim?” he whispered back, running his fingers down along your waist, squeezing into them enough to make you squeak. “Do I deserve a reward?”
“A r-reward? I mean, of course you do, but…right here? Right now?”
San slowly led you backwards until you both were just barely out of sight of the event’s employees and your beloved coworkers. He rubbed his thumbs gently over your hips, angling his head down to see the way his hardened cock pressed into your body through his designer pants. “Right here…right now…”
You gulped, knowing everything about the situation was wrong, but you couldn’t help but to give in, like every time before.
-
San had you just how he liked, with your bare ass on full display for him, watching it bounce each time he pushed himself into you, groaning at the sensation of your hot cunt swallowing his cock up like you were made for him. You practically were, considering the way you always spread your legs for him, even as his boss. But, how could you say no?
San leaned forward, his bare, heated chest pressing heavily against your back, his throbbing cock hitting your sweet spot even easier at this new angle, resting his chin on your shoulder. He looked at you through the corner of his eyes, his lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “Hey, Manager-nim. Whose pussy is this?”
“I-it’s yours, San,” you breathed out, feeling your cunt begin to squeeze around his length, your legs starting to grow weak underneath you.
“Yeah?” San perused, running his hands up under your disheveled clothes to grope at your tits, squeezing them in between his thick fingers, flicking and pulling at your nipples just to hear you try to hold back your pretty moans. “This cunt is all mine? Mine to fuck raw and fill with my load? Mine to use whenever I’d like, huh?”
Just as San’s filthy words left his mouth, you felt him go into overdrive, fucking into you so hard, you could hardly catch your breath, clawing at the walls of the backstage as an attempt to keep from completely losing yourself in the immense pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes…!” you cried out, knowing from the pleased groans and growls coming from San that you were creaming yourself on his rapidly moving cock.
“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re so filthy, Manager-nim…” San exhaled against your ear, dragging his tongue up along it, just as his body began to shudder and his rough thrusts were instead replaced by the slow, concentrated rolling of his hips. “Let me make you even filthier, okay?”
You looked back just in time to see him pull out and rest his thick cock against your ass, admiring his flushed, sweat-covered face, the way he could barely keep his eyes open, and the way his blazer was falling off of one of his broad shoulders. You didn’t look down until you began to feel something hot covering your lower back, watching as he painted the rest of your exposed skin and disheveled clothes with white.
San simply smiled back at you, running his fingers through his glistening hair to keep it from falling into his upturned eyes. “Thank you for the reward, Manager-nim. I’ll work even harder during the next stage because of you.”
You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s wonderful to hear, San.” You shivered, suddenly feeling San’s load drip down your back and along your ass. “Now, if you don’t mind, could you help me clean this mess up?”
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writerpeach · 21 days
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Studious Seduction
Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader
10k words
Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing
Part One | Part Two
---
Read on AO3
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"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."
"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 
Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 
Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 
At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 
To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 
And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 
There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.
This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 
But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.
Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.
“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.
“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 
"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 
She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.
"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 
"When has that ever stopped us before?" 
She has a point. 
This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 
Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.
“Professor—“
A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 
Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.
“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 
"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"
It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 
But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 
"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"
She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.
"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.
"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"
Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.
Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 
It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 
After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 
"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."
When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 
You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 
"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 
"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 
You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.
Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 
“Yewon—“
You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 
“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 
The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 
"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 
"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 
Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.
“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"
Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 
You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 
It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.
"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."
At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 
A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 
“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 
When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 
"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 
There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 
Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.
“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 
Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 
"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"
With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—
"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 
And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.
“Cum all over me, professor.” 
You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 
She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 
That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.
“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."
"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.
"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."
But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 
"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."
Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 
When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 
"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"
Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 
"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"
"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.
"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."
"You might check the library, they'll have them."
"The library?"
"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."
"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 
When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."
"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 
“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 
Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."
"This was a really terrible idea."
"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 
“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 
“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"
You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 
✦ ✦
So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?
That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.
There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 
You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 
And then it's all over for both of you. 
Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 
The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 
You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 
Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 
Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.
With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 
"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."
"You said you were going to be quiet."
"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."
You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 
Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.
Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 
"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.
"Yeah? Including you?"
"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 
"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 
Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"
"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."
"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"
"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."
"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"
"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"
"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."
"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"
"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 
"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."
Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 
"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"
"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."
"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.
"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 
Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 
You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 
“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 
When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.
Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.
"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 
"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"
"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."
"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."
"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"
"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 
"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."
"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."
"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 
"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."
It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.
So you keep it simple. 
You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 
You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.
It’s as perfect a place as ever. 
Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.
"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.
You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.
Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 
Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 
"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 
"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 
Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 
"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 
"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"
Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.
"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."
"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."
This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 
It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 
"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“
She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.
You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"
Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 
Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 
When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 
"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.
After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 
"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."
"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 
Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."
Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.
"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 
She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 
“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”
There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.
"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."
"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."
"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."
"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.
"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.
"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."
"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"
"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."
"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 
It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 
"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."
"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."
"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 
"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 
Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 
"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 
That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 
Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 
Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  
There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 
And truly, both of you wish it never would. 
“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 
“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 
"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 
“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 
“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"
"Yeah. Maybe."
Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—
One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 
"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 
You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 
"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 
“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.
"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 
"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."
"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."
"No need to be smug about it, professor."
Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 
"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"
The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."
"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.
"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."
You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 
"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"
"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."
"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"
"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."
"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 
"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."
"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"
"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"
"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"
"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."
"Me too, professor." 
You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.
“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 
"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."
"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 
"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 
"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 
“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"
"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."
"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"
She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 
And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 
But maybe you won't. 
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