#it’s not that i don’t want to it’s just that i can’t

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[daycourtofficial]

Cassian: the annoying brother

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 2.7k | warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, slight violence

Summary: You and Azriel are mates, but haven't told the rest of your family. Cassian is suspicious of the two of you and does whatever he can to try to rile up a newly mated Azriel or get you to accidentally let it slip.

Author's note: This has been in my drafts for AGES and I'm so glad you guys wanted it. Shout out to @lady-of-tearshed for the line about allergies.

“Azriel, you have to go.”

Your voice is soft as you lightly kick him, pushing him towards the edge of the bed. The house was still, the sky dark beyond your balcony doors. He grunts, wrapping his arms around you tight, his foot catching your bedpost, pushing against it to stay on the bed.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles, rolling over on top of you, his wings draping across the bed. His breath tickles your ear as he has you pinned beneath him, his arms and legs circling around you. You wiggle your hand up to poke him in the side repeatedly, “you have to get up, babe.”

He huffs in your ear, “I don’t have to do anything.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, his refusal to get out of bed worsening each day. “You agreed to train the Valkyries against magic wielders today.”

“That was the old me, the new me doesn’t care.”

“That was the you from a week ago.”

“I could kick his ass.”

“Not if you stay in this bed, you can’t.”

He moaned once more into your neck as he held tightly to you before pushing off, spinning you two so you were on top of him. He closes his eyes, his head falling back dramatically on the pillow.

“Oh no, looks like there’s something keeping me from getting up. Send Cassian my regards.”

You giggle, trying to push off of him but his grip won’t budge. “As if Cassian won’t come in here the second he can’t find you in your own room.”

“Your door has a lock.”

“I know for a fact he would fly outside and fly in through my balcony doors.”

He sighs, his grip on you loosening. “Fine. Will you at least be there for family dinner tonight?”

You nod your head against him and he rolls you off of himself, slowly climbing out of the bed. He shakes his wings, stretching them out before folding them back behind himself. He leans over the bed, reaching towards you. You shuffle enough across the bed to give him access to your forehead, where he plants a swift kiss.

“It’s too early for sneaking around,” he muses, checking to make sure he didn’t leave anything he might need during training. At least, that was the excuse he gave every morning. All of his training gear was in his room - he just wanted to linger in your presence for a few more minutes.

“You agreed we’d wait a few months because you didn’t want any of your family butting in.”

You sat up on your knees, wrapping the comforter around you as you did so. You leaned up, pushing your lips out and making obnoxious kissing sounds at him until he cooperated once more. He brought his head down to you, kissing you back. He pulled back just a few inches before diving his face onto yours once more, peppering kisses across your cheeks. Despite the rising sun, it felt unbelievably warm to be wrapped up in his arms, giggling about the day ahead.

“And I bet you’re going to throw it in my face that it was my idea, hmm?” He kisses you again, “much like you have done every time I complain about sneaking out of here before anyone wakes up.”

“You know me so well.”

-

Cassian was walking down the hallway past your bedroom, hurriedly on his way towards training when he stopped mid step at the scent that lingered around your door. He sniffed the air, detecting both yours and Azriel’s scents. The scent was so strong it stopped him in his tracks - so distinctive. It wasn’t just individual scents, it was another scent all together. 

He looked utterly ridiculous dressed in his fighting leathers, his hair in a messy bun atop his head, spinning in circles as he sniffed the air. Something was lingering, much stronger than either scent. He paused, looking at your door, listening for any noises. He glanced up and down the hallway, and after finding it empty, he pressed his ear up to the door, listening for your breathing.

You were clearly asleep, the soft slow breathing of slumber coming from you. But Azriel’s scent was quite fresh - no way it was even half an hour old. He took another inhale, this time trying to really focus on that scent he couldn’t place. He found Azriel’s night-chilled mist and cedar scent, your scent of lilacs and fresh rain, but something else-

Gods dammit.

Cassian can’t help the range of emotions that go through him at the realization his brother had been lying to him. Joy and happiness for the two of you, excitement to tell Nesta. Excited to rub it in Rhys’s dumb face that he knew you two were up to something.

And he was absolutely, completely pissed off at Azriel for keeping this from him.

-

Cassian watched the two of you at dinner that night, his eyes assessing every movement between the two of you. Everything seemed normal. The two of you were acting normal - the bastards, both of you. He was starting to doubt himself - the scent was nowhere to be found anymore, the two of you were acting normal, sharing jokes, telling stories about the week, laughing at whatever joke was made.

It all made him sick.

He was clutching his fork a bit too tightly when he had his opening, his moment. Everyone was focused on something Rhysand was saying, so you and Az took a moment, one stolen moment, and Cassian knew he was right. 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as you gingerly caressed the black eye he had given Azriel this morning during training. He couldn't help himself - the anger he felt at not knowing such a big thing in Azriel’s life culminated in him being much more aggressive than usual, leaving Azriel a bit bloodier and more bruised than normal. Azriel had chalked it up to Nesta being gone for a few days, taking Emerie and Gwyn to the Day Court to see the pegasi with a personal tour from Helion himself.

Watching the moment end for the both of you, your hand falling back to your lap was just what Cassian needed to get his mind off of Helion flirting with his mate: a rare opportunity to annoy the ever living shit out of his brother. 

And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

-

“Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the foyer, smiling at Azriel and Feyre. The three of you and Cassian had plans to go shopping for Nesta, helping Cassian find the perfect gift for their mating anniversary. Nesta’s absence allowed Cassian ample time to shop for her, as well as ample time for you and Azriel to undoubtedly wrap her gift once Cassian comes to you both asking for help.

“Ah, we were just musing if any of Helion’s charms have worked on any of the Valkyries,” Feyre’s grin full of amusement at imagining her sister seeing Helion again. You quip, “I’m certain he very rarely ever hears the word ‘no’ so I’m sure he’s very happy to have Nesta so close by.”

Feyre giggles and is about to reply when Cassian’s boots can be heard stomping into the room. You turn to greet him, a snappy remark on your tongue, when he quickly bounds into the room and scoops you into his arms before turning to Azriel.

“Race ya,” is all Azriel and Feyre hear before he shoots off the balcony with you in his arms. He takes off incredibly quickly. Your hair was whipping around you - you were going to tie it back right before take off, but your inability to do so made it impossible for you to see. Cassian’s haphazard flying was making things worse - the shops in Velaris were a quick straight shot from the House of Wind, but by Cassian’s trajectory, you’d think you were following a winding river.

“Cass!” Your shouts are met with chuckles as he finally lands, a bit harsher than Azriel does, but he keeps you in his arms. Azriel and Feyre land next to you two, Azriel’s shadows crawling all over Cassian to get to you. Cassian kicks at them a little, and you swear you can almost hear a hissing sound in response.

You’re finally able to see, moving the strands of hair out of your face and coaxing some of the shadows out of the way for you to find Azriel glaring at his brother. Cassian takes no notice of his brother’s annoyance, patting your leg before gently setting you down.

You reach out trying to stabilize yourself, a bit woozy from the ridiculous flight. Azriel’s eyes roamed over you as his arm reached out so you could hold on. Feyre looks between the two brothers, unsure of what’s going on. You laugh to diffuse the tension, “that was a fun ride, Cassian.”

He winks, “I’m always a fun ride.”

Feyre laughs, slapping his bicep, but you feel Azriel go rigid beneath your hands. You send some soothing feelings down the bond, double checking that the both of you were still glamoured from anyone scenting it. Azriel breathes deeply, fighting every instinct in him to kill Cassian for putting you in such danger. His anger was on an incredibly tight tether, one he would have let erupt if it weren’t for the various bystanders around you four.

The rest of the afternoon was just as tense as the flight Cassian had taken you on. Well, Feyre and Azriel were tense. Cassian was living it up, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary. In fact, Cassian seemed to be particularly chipper, and particularly touchy. Cassian strutted around the city with you tucked under his arm, and it was really difficult for you to keep the rage you were feeling through the bond to seep into your own mood.

The four of you meandered through: book stores, where Cassian completely ignored anything Azriel recommended, jewelry stores, where Cassian held up every piece he was considering up to you, saying “you have a similar neck to Nes.” 

Azriel’s rage was palpable, almost like a fifth companion for this outing, but it became overbearing when your group headed into a bakery. Cassian would pick up the bite size cake samples and feed them to you, his fingers too close to your mouth for Azriel’s liking.

“This one’s divine,” Cassian’s voice rang out, but as he pushed the piece towards your mouth, Azriel yanked you away from him, muttering a piss poor excuse about having something important to do before flying off with you.

Dinner that night was just as atrocious as the earlier outing, despite your requests to Azriel to behave. Immediately Cassian sat in Azriel’s usual seat, and after Azriel growled at him to move, Cassian told him, “my butt’s already made a nice imprint on this chair. Do you want to sit in my butt imprint?”

Cassian knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t stop himself from wiggling into the seat further before sighing, “just the way I like it.”

Azriel began to turn before Cassian threw his arm around you, bringing you close, “besides, if I sit next to my favorite girl, maybe she’ll feed me instead.”

His wink after that almost lost him his arm. Azriel clenched his jaw, took some deep breaths like you told him to, and stalked over to Cassian’s usual seat across the table from you. He practically shook with rage the whole night, avoiding any and all conversation around the table in favor of watching Cassian continue to touch you and flirt with you all night.

He avoided Rhys and Feyre’s occasional mental taps to try to speak to him, unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He eventually tuned back into the conversation when Mor was discussing an atrocious outfit by one of the courtiers from Summer, stating no one could look good in such a ridiculous outfit.

“What are you talking about, I could pull it off -  I look great in anything!” You laughed, eyes bright in amusement at the ridiculous description of the dress with feathers, tassels, and copious amounts of sequins.

“And nothing,” Cassian retorts, his smirk growing even larger at Azriel’s growl. You cough in a piss poor attempt to cover the noise, but everyone just looks between Azriel and Cassian, the latter staring down the former.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Your eyes widen at Azriel taking Cassian’s flirting as more than-

Oh.

Oh. 

“What’s wrong, Azzy?”

You start shaking your head no, trying to get Azriel to look at you, but his rage makes his focus narrow in too closely to Cassian to see the warning signs.

“Don’t you have a mate to flirt with?”

You quickly tug the bond, trying to get Azriel to look at you, but it was too late. Cassian smirks, having finally gotten the upper hand on Azriel. Cassian leans in closer to the table, his eyes on Azriel as he asks, “don’t you?”

Azriel pales, surprised at Cassian’s deception. The room is completely quiet as everyone waits for Azriel’s response, but only a second passes before he lunges across the table, throttling Cassian to the floor. Chairs scrape as everyone rushes to pull them apart, save for Amren remaining seated and sipping from her wine glass.

“After I kill you with my bare hands, I will ensure your grave will be covered in flowers so that your allergies will haunt you forever.”

“You bastard!”

The two are rolling around on the rug, throwing punches and insults at each other. Their wings made it impossible to know who was winning. The knocked over a few chairs, but eventually Rhys sees an opening and pulls Cassian off of Azriel. You and Feyre move to Azriel, keeping him from attacking again. Azriel is snarling in your arms, and Cassian keeps baring his teeth back at his brother.

“What is going on?”

You all still at the tone of his voice, a high lord making his dominance known. Cassian looks at Azriel, “tell them, you dumb dick.”

Azriel snarls at him, and you and Feyre quickly hold him back. His chest is heaving as he shrugs off Feyre’s hold on him but places one of his hands over yours.

“We’re-“ he looks at you, and you nod subtly, “mates. We’re mates and we kept it a secret and somehow Cassian found out.”

Azriel glares at Cassian, who glared right back.

“Why was it some secret you were keeping from me?”

“We kept it from everyone, Cass,” your soft voice did little to calm the Illyrians staring each other down.

���I thought I was your friend-“ he pointed at you, “and your brother.” He aggressively poked Azriel in the chest, and your mate deflated just a bit at how clearly hurt Cassian was. Cassian crossed his arms, looking away from you two before Azriel put a hand on his shoulder. “You know we do care about you, right?”

You step toward Cassian, wrapping him into a hug. “Cassie, we just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit, can you blame us? You would have gone shouting it from the rooftops as soon as we told you.”

He sighed, “I know. It just... hurt that you guys didn’t want me to know.”

You squeeze Cassian tighter before Azriel comes over, squishing you between the two of them.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Cass. It was nothing personal. Nobody knew.”

A beat passes, the warmth from being surrounded by the two Illyrians making your cheeks hot.

“How about this Cassian - if we ever want any of you guys in our bedroom, we’ll ask you first.”

Azriel growls at your joke, moving to pull away from the hug but Cassian holds on tighter.

“Deal.”

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Thanks for reading 💕

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

#teepods.writings #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #rich boy! au

[duckytree]

Hi everyone!

I’d like to start by thanking you all for 2 years together (4 if you count the old blog). You’ve followed me through high school into university, during and after COVID. I’ve looked forward to seeing your reblogs, comments, asks, DMs, etc. every day. I’ve read every note on this blog. Some of you even call me your favourite artist, an honour that is unimaginable to me even now.

This blog started as just a digital storage for me to save and keep my art, so I never expected it to gain the traction and support it did. Recently, we surpassed 10k followers, beyond anything I ever expected when I first started posting my art.

However, I’m sorry to announce that I’ll be retiring this blog. My reasons for doing so vary, and a lot of them are due to extremely personal reasons. I’ve been sitting on the idea for a long time, and I’ve finally made the decision. I’m sorry my explanation isn’t satisfactory and leaves you confused, but I really can’t afford to spill my guts out on the internet (some people can be cruel).

I left so many loose ends, series I never finished, asks I never answered, promised sequels and planned projects that I never got to do. I never wanted to leave you guys hanging like this and I hope you will forgive me.

Maybe in the future when I’m ready I’ll bring this blog out of retirement, or maybe I’ll make a new one for a fresh start. Maybe not. I don’t want to say that this is my last time seeing you, because you’ve made my teenage years so special. But I don’t want to give you false hope in case I really don’t end up coming back. If I do, hopefully you will be greeted with a better and more put together version of me than right now.

Thank you all, I’m so happy to have been a part of your day.

#duckytree

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd x reader #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune movie

[ponderingmoonlight]

Imagine Gojo and Sukuna fighting over you on the battlefield.

“You already gave me 99 reasons to kill you. But trying so steal my girl…”

Sukuna’s grip around your waist tightens. How did you end up in this situation? Gojo, who apparently came to your rescue and Sukuna…

He’s so close you’re literally able to taste him, the way his arm is wrapped around you completely making your knees go weak. The truth is, you never settled for Gojo. Isn’t he just a flirt, a guy who hooks up with random girls on a regular basis? You never payed that much attention to all the compliments he showered you with, how he always made sure to hold the door for you, to get you something to eat. After all, he’s acting like that towards every woman, right?

Apparently not. The unpromising gleam in his bright blue orbs tells you more than urgently that this is serious. Satoru came here to get you back.

Sukuna, on the other hand…

“Is she your girl, though? Why would someone like (y/n) waste her time with someone like you?”, Sukuna bites back in amusement.

“She chose me”, Satoru clarifies.

“And now give her back.”

Your heart almost beats out of your throat. That look on Satoru’s face, the way Sukuna presses you even tighter against his muscular frame…How are you supposed to collect a single thought when you’re surrounded by the two strongest individuals in this word, especially when you are the reason for their fight?

“Is she?”

“I bet she’d look good by my side as my queen. What do you have to offer?”

“I offer you my fucking fist.”

Satoru takes a step forward. Suddenly his usual so goofy and tender side has vanished into thin air, all that’s left being that cold glare in his eyes and his hands balled into tight fists.

Fuck, this means nothing but trouble. Your mind starts racing back and forth. If they fight right here, they’ll leave an unimaginable trail of chaos behind with no one who’s able to stop them. If you don’t do something right now…

“Stop. Both of you.”

With a swift motion, you free yourself from Sukuna’s grip and stand your ground between them, arms raised in a lousy attempt to stop the fuming men.

“Aren’t both of you old enough to act like grown men? Are you really about to start a fight over a woman?”

“You.”

Your gaze drifts towards Gojo.

“You are nothing but a flirt. We were never serious with each other, why are you calling me ‘your girl’? Maybe start acting a little more stern if that’s what you want.”

“But (y/n)-“

“And you.”

Suddenly your eyes are fixated on Sukuna.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You almost killed all of my friends with your behaviour and don’t get me started on Yuji. I don’t wanna be the queen to someone who acts so reckless and selfish.”

“Did you…really just say that?”

“And to top it all of: How childish of both of you to fight over me like a piece of meat. I’m a person, I can decide on my own, y’know? Treating me like this definitely turns me off. And now excuse me, I promised to grab a coffee with Choso.”

Without saying another word, you turn on your heels and let both men stand in the rain.

“Did she just…”

“This can’t be happening right now”, Gojo mutters.

“She really left you standing in the rain”, Sukuna comments dryly.

“ME!? You’re talking about yourself”

“She’d never reject me-“

“ME EITHER!”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna jjk #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #choso jjk #choso kamo #kamo choso #sukuna #jjk drabbles #jjk funny #jjk fanfic #gojo drabbles #sukuna drabble #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujustu kaisen #sukuna x y/n

[berryhobii]

Baby Mama Drama(jjk x reader)

Pairing: BabyDaddy!Jeon Jungkook x BabyMama!Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K+

Warnings: reader and Jungkook coparent, they have a daughter who is mentioned but doesn’t appear in the story, reader and Jungkook technically aren’t together but they still love each other and fool around🥴, reader irritates the hell out of JK but he can’t stay mad at them, reader is definitely a little toxic, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), oral(m and f receiving), 69 position, the sloppiest of top, face riding, fingering, reverse cowgirl, reader rides like a pro, missionary, reader has a tattoo🤭, reader is also dragging that wagon, reader also also has that certified WAP, reader is flexible, squirting, unprotected s*x(don’t do this and then turn into this couple), creampie, dirty talk, one face slap, multiple ass slaps like seriously JK is obsessed with reader’s badonk a donk, a little degradation and a dash of dumbification

A/N: I’M BACK EVERYONE!🥳for anyone who didn’t read my last post, my tumblr was suspended for a little while so that’s why I wasn’t posting. Anyway, it’s over so I’m back to work. This is a piece inspired by @joonberriess and their Sleazy!JK storyline. Shoutout to them. I love everything about the way they write JK and reader so definitely check them out if you haven’t already! Their stories make me want a sleazy baby daddy who can’t leave me the hell alone but I know I’ll never be able to handle that in real life so fictional is good enough for me!🤣this fic is just kind of a reverse of theirs where I made reader a sleazy and jealous baby mama. I know this kind of behavior is a stereotype among the black community but I am in no way condoning it. It’s just fiction and meant to be entertaining. Anyway, please let me know what you guys think as I am always open to criticism and please look forward to my upcoming posts! Much love and thanks for reading 🤎🤎🤎

~

“So, do you have any kids?”

Taking a sip of his drink, Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, one. A daughter. You?”

“Two. Their father is an absolute nightmare though. Thank goodness we have a court order. I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to pull all my hair out.” She bitterly laughed with a shake off her head, tossing the rest of her drink back. “What about you? Is your child’s mother a monster?”

Jungkook titled his head, a strained chuckle leaving him. “Um, well she’s…..something.”

The woman hummed. “I get it. A real bitch, huh? I hate women like that. Ones who can’t let their baby daddy’s go and are somehow always around. So annoying. Like don’t you have something better to do?”

“Yeah and I do it 4 times a week in my Queen sized bed.”

Jungkook stiffened at the sound of that familiar voice. There was only one person he knew that spoke that crassly to strangers.

The scent of your perfume and the smell of the mousse you used on your braids invaded his space and solidified that shit was about to go downhill.

The woman, who’s name he don’t think he ever caught, made a noise of surprise once you appeared before her. Your body stood right between her and Jungkook, forcing her to step back a little. Arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked out to the side, your eyes roamed up and down this woman’s body in a scrutinizing manner.

“And who are you?”

Leaning back a little, you plopped yourself right on Jungkook’s lap.

Looking her up and down once more, you answered simply with a big smile, “I’m unimpressed. Nice to meet you.”

Ignoring you for a moment, the woman looked around you to make eye contact with Jungkook who was shooting her a look that screamed, “please walk away!” She didn’t really understand what was going on. Who were you and why did you walk into their conversation on 10 like that? It was one thing to interrupt a conversation but to be that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know? That didn’t go down well in her book.

Copying your previous stance, the woman replied, “Well I’m unimpressed with your attitude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

“No but she taught me to how to wrap a bitch’s hair around my wrist and keep swinging until my arm gets tired.” Your smile was sugary sweet but your words cut deep like knives. The woman was stunned. No one has ever spoken to her this way and it was a rude awakening. She didn’t even know how to respond.

Not wanting to see you demonstrate your mother’s teachings, Jungkook quickly stood to his feet. “Well, we should really be going. It was nice meeting you. Let’s go.” He grabbed your arms to start pushing you away from the woman.

“No it wasn’t!” You called out, both of you leaving the shocked woman by herself.

Once you two had made it outside, Jungkook’s frustration boiled over.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it everytime I meet someone, you show up and scare them off? We aren’t together anymore. Is it not getting through your head? Like what the hell-“

His rant was flying right over your head because all you could focus on was how unbelievably sexy he looked today. How dare he walk outside like that? And he was going to waste all of that on some random stranger in a bar? Yeah right. Not as long as you had a say about it.

Your greedy eyes trailed from the top of his head to those bulging veins in his neck and down to his soft cock that was pressing against his jeans. Whew, just imaging that monster had your panties sticking to you. It was so big and warm and when he was giving you back shots…..

“Are you listening to me?”

You blinked a few times, your eyes slowing raising until they met the searing glare of your baby daddy.

“Uh yeah. Something about airline prices. So what are you doing tonight?”

Jungkook couldn’t fucking believe you. God you pissed him off to no end but he always had a way of letting off some steam.

“Let’s go. Now.”

“Yes sir.” You purred with that mischievous glint in your eye. Jungkook’s own eye twitched at the implications behind your tone but he decided to ignore it in favor of turning around to begin walking to his car, you hot on his heels and a Cheshire like grin on your face because you were getting what you wanted.

The drive back to his place was quiet, as was the ride up the elevator and the living room as he moved to sit down. He didn’t even raise his eyes to look at you once since you got in the car. Although you could see right through his petty act.

Flopping down on the couch next to him, your head leaning against your hand, you said, “come on, baby. You’re not still mad at me, are you? I said I’m sorry.”

No answer.

Moving closer to him, your hand trailed over his chest and up to his face to turn his head to face you, lips just centimeters apart. This wouldn’t be the first time you were on the receiving end of his heated glare and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“What do I have to say for you to forgive me? I hate when you’re mad at me, baby.”

“Then stop doing shit that pisses me off and I won’t be.” He fired back, that low tone of his sending shocks down your spine.

“I’m sorry. Now let me make it up to you.” He could pick up on that sultry voice anywhere and those bedroom eyes you were currently shooting him was a dead giveaway as well.

He rolled his eyes. “You need to stop expecting dick everytime you come over here. It’s not gonna fix anything.”

Gasping dramatically, you moved back a little to hold a hand to your chest in faux offense. “You wound me, tater tot. I came here with pure intentions to apologize to you. Can a woman not apologize to her baby daddy without him thinking she has an ulterior motive?”

An unimpressed look crossed Jungkook’s face from your dramatics and from that stupid pet name you gave him all those years ago.

“Whatever.” He mumbled. “Fine. I accept your apology. Just don’t do it again.” A warning that fell on deaf ears because yeah, you’d definitely do it again if needed but for now, you’d bask in his forgiveness.

“Thank you, baby. You know I only want to make you happy.”

“You do,” he whispered, those doe eyes lifting to connect with yours.

Your lips met, your hands pushing Jungkook back against the arm of the couch to climb into his lap. He went willingly, melting into your touch and the feeling of your plump lips. His own hands traveled up your thighs to squeeze at the plushness of your ass, his grip forcing your covered cunt to rub against his growing erection.

His grunts mixed with your low hum of pleasure as you grinded against one another but Jungkook could only tolerate about a minute of that before he started getting impatient.

Groaning against your lips, he struggled out a, “fuck. Sit it on already.”

The sounds of your giggles made him pause, eyes cracking open and his eyebrow raising because what the hell was so funny?

“Oh nothing.” You said as if reading his mind. “I just remember a very certain someone saying not to expect dick everytime I come here yet that same person is telling me to sit on his dick. How the tables have turned.”

Rolling his eyes yet again, Jungkook suddenly heaved himself up, forcing you backwards. Your giggles increased, the contagion of your amusement finally breaking him and stretching a full blown smile across his face.

“You’re so goofy.”

“Then do something about it, Mickey.”

In a show of strength that turned your panties from a pool into a water park, Jungkook heaved you over his shoulder, hand coming down on the fat of your ass.

“I’ll do something about it alright.”

Once you made it to the bedroom, Jungkook tossed you down onto the bed and was about to climb on top of you but you were a little quicker. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him down until he was flat on his back with you straddling his waist—his hard cock pressed right against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released.

Leaning down, you captured him in another kiss while he captured your ass in his grip.

“Damn I love this ass….” He murmured into your lip lock which made you giggle.

After deeming him throughly kissed, you sat up to take in his flushed face and reddened lips. Perfect.

“Forgive me yet?”

He hummed, fingers playing with the hem of your top. “Maybe after you take this off.”

Ever so compliant, you gripped both sides of your shirt and pulled it over your head to reveal your bare breasts to Jungkook. His eyes could have popped out of his head, the groan he let out a mixture of arousal and slight irritation.

“You’re not wearing a bra?”

Shrugging one shoulder, you simply answered, “I knew I was coming here. What’s the point? Do you want to know if I’m wearing underwear?” That cheeky smile answered the question for him and it only sunk him further into the already unhealthy infatuation he had with you.

Gripping your ass, he roughly grinded your cunt down on his erection. The friction made both of you gasp, the air starting to feel electric as desperation began eating at both of you.

It didn’t take long for both of you to undress each other. Jungkook helped you wiggle out of those tiny shorts you wore, letting out a curse as a little drip of sticky arousal snapped back against your inner thigh. Sitting up, he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere in the room. Now you could feast your eyes on the hard planes of his body and trace your fingers those intricate tattoos that marked up his skin.

Leaning down once again, you trailed kisses from that sweet spot on his neck, down his chest and over his abs until you reached your destination. Your eyes never left his as you began your descent, hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans to pull them down and Jungkook helped kick them off. You licked your lips at the sight of Jungkook’s hard cock slapping against his abs once you freed it from the confines of his pants . He could see that hungry look in your eye, smirking as he took hold of his erection and began lightly pumping it; a motion that drove you fucking crazy was watching him stroke himself. It just did something to you.

“You want it, bug?” He teased to which you nodded frantically.

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.” Opening your mouth, you held your tongue out to lick at it, Jungkook hissing at the contact. He slapped it against your wet muscle a few times before letting the tip slip in your mouth. You immediately wrapped your lips around it, suckling at it like a desperate whore. Which you were but only for him. No one else could make you act like this.

You replaced his hand with your own, licking and spitting all over his cock to lubricate it. Taking him down your throat, you began bobbing your head up and down, making sure to twist your wrist just the way he liked it.

Jungkook let out a series of low moans, curses, and the tiniest of whines everytime you went down. One hand gripped at the ponytail you put your braids up in and one hand behind his head, he let you take the lead. You knew just how he liked it, just the way to flick your wrist and tighten your throat to throw him over the edge in minutes.

Coming off him with a wet cough, you continued to stroke his cock, your spit soaking your own hand but that only helped the glide. Your hazy and hungry eyes stared right into his, your chin and mouth soaked in saliva. “I love this cock so fucking much.” You gasped before taking it back down your throat and bobbing your head.

Tossing his head back, Jungkook let out a strangled moan, forcing your head down. You let him, of course, relaxing your throat so he could fuck up into your mouth.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Right fucking now.” He demanded.

Pulling off him a little, you maneuvered your body until your pussy was right over his face—69 style. He gripped both of your ass cheeks in his palms, pulling you down until he could suck your neglected clit into his mouth.

You let out a sharp gasp around his cock, finally getting some type of relief. Sucking his cock made you a different type of horny and he could see that with the way your cunt was dripping.

His mouth and tongue started going crazy, ravenous as he alternated between sucking and licking, making sure to dip his tongue in your opening everyone once in a while. His hands continued to slap and grip at your ass, one wandering sometimes to pull your slippery lips apart so he could really get in there.

His hand trailed down from your ass to your tight opening, squeezing a finger into your spasming walls. He located that sweet spot with practiced ease, slipping in another finger in beside it and stretching your snug cunt open. The squelching of your walls was like music to his ears, adding to the salacious ‘gluck gluck’ noises your throat was making as you swallowed his cock.

Since you were horny on your way here, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start burning hot in your belly.

You pulled off his cock but continued to stroke him, your cheek resting against his thigh as high pitched moans left your lips.

Jungkook flattened his tongue, his grip on your ass guiding you to rut against his face. The fat of your ass almost suffocated him but Jungkook couldn’t imagine going out any other way. He hooked his fingers right into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and head hanging low as you used him for your pleasure.

“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!” Lifting your head, you took his cock back into your mouth, burying it all the way to the hilt in your throat. Jungkook’s hips jumped, him groaning against your clit, the vibrations sending shocks right through you.

A few swallows around his cock and a few more jabs to that spot inside of you and both of you were cumming. Your body tensed, hips rutting faster against his face to ride it out. He thrusted his hips up once, twice, three times before letting out a drawn out moan as he pumped his release down your waiting throat. Your body shivered as buzzing pleasure raced down your back and to your toes. You don’t think you’ve had an orgasm like that since…….three days ago when Jungkook ate you out in his car after he had to pick you up because you forgot to get gas.

Amazing car head aside, the party wasn’t over yet.

“Sit on it, bug. Hurry.” Jungkook rushed you, tapping your ass a few times, his breath labored and tone dripping with desperation.

Good thing you were just as eager because you crawled forward on your weak knees until he was lined up with your entrance. Reaching between your legs, you held his wet cock steady as you slid down on it. Jungkook’s hands held your ass cheeks apart to watch, eyes blurring slightly as your hot, tight, and gushing walls wrapped around him. You weren’t faring much better, your head knocking back as his thick cock stretched you to your limits. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken his cock, the pure g i r t h always knocked the breath out of you. This is why you couldn’t leave him alone, his cock was just too fucking good. You’d be damned if you ever let someone else take it from you.

Once you were settled to the hilt, your body leaned all the way forward to rest between his legs and you began bouncing your ass on his cock.

Jungkook was mesmerized by how your fat ass rippled and moved against his pelvis. At this moment, he didn’t give a damn how many women you threatened or how much you pissed him off; just the sight of your ass and the feeling of your juicy cunt wrapped around him was enough to make him remember another reason why he couldn’t let you the hell go. He loved your pussy too much. And if that wasn’t enough, the sight of that tiny ‘♡JK’ tatted on your left ass cheek certainly let him know.

Jungkook’s hands came down to slap repeatedly on your bouncing ass. “Faster baby. Fuck, this ass is so good!” The seat of your ass was wet from a combination of spit and cum, the wet slapping noises filling the space. Your moans were in competition with the clapping of your ass, your cheek pressed against the sheets and your nails digging into his calves.

“Ahhh! This cock is so b-big,” you whine, “love it so much…..right there….! Oohhhh-ohhhh fuck!”

Lifting up a little and adjusting your knees to a better position, you began throwing yourself down on his cock, the head brushing against every spot you had and sending you reeling. You’d come all the way up until just the tip was inside before slamming back down, the bed shaking underneath the force. Jungkook’s toes curled, your cunt gripping him tighter than a vice.

He was about 98% sure his soul left his body, eyes rolling and head knocking back against the pillows as his lungs struggled for air.

Not able to hold it anymore, Jungkook was quickly flipping your positions. Now it was your turn to be on your back, your legs spread in a wide V shape, his cologne invading your senses and his lips covering yours. He was everywhere, all over you. Your skin was on fire from his touch, sweat soaking your back and air becoming sparse as he kissed away what little oxygen you had left. You were obsessed with him. He was yours as you were his. Nothing would ever change that.

His cock buried itself back into your walls, a deep moan of pleasure getting caught in your throat once he began jackhammering into you. Your hands gripped the bottom of your feet, keeping them apart so he could continue to plow into your soft spot. His hips moved like a well oiled machine, making noisy contact with your ass with every thrust.

Your mouth dropped open, “oh my…..fffucking g-god…!” Tears welled up in your eyes as blinding pleasure spread over every nerve in your body.

Jungkook grunted, his own pleasure peaking at the sight of your fucked out face.

“Yeah? You about to cum? Are you gonna what the fuck I say and stop acting so fucking jealous? Huh?” Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth as you tried to form sentences but hurried ‘yes yes yes’ were the only words you could manage. “How many times do I have to fuck you before you get that through your thick head? I only want you. Fuck you push my fucking buttons but I know it’s just because you want me to fill up this tight cunt, isn’t that right?” A slap came across your cheek, orgasm crashing into your body without warning from the sudden strike.

Jungkook could feel wetness soaking his pelvis and cock, jaw tightening as he began moving even harder—the headboard knocking into the wall so hard that he doesn’t think he’ll get his security deposit back for this place.

“Juicy fucking cunt squirting all over me. Mhmmmm….I’m gonna fill this pussy up. You want that? Want me to send you home with my cum running down your legs?”

Your ears were ringing, his dirty talk propelling you right into another endless orgasm, your toes curling in the air as blissful overstimulation began to take over.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep in your sopping cunt. His cock throbbed inside you, the thickness pressing right into your abused gspot. Your hands released your feet to scramble against his back, sharp acrylics digging into his skin and making him hiss in slight pain.

“Ohhhhhh shittttttt….fuck baby,” He groaned out as he pumped creamy ropes inside your clenching pussy, your spasming walls sucking him in and milking him for everything he was worth.

Both of you collapsed from exhaustion, Jungkook’s face planting itself in your breasts and your legs falling weakly to the bed with a light thump. Only the sounds of your heavy breathing filled the room, both of your hearts beating wildly as you two came down.

~

“So am I forgiven?” You asked as you two soaked in the tub, the scent of an apple scented bath bomb wafting around the room.

Jungkook was behind you, head leaned back against the wall as he tried not to fall asleep. “I guess so. Just stop doing that, okay? It’s so embarrassing.”

“Deal.”

A beat of silence washed over the room, just the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub filling the space.

“One more time.” You suddenly said.

“Huh?”

“You asked me how many times do you have to fuck me before I get it through my thick head to stop being jealous. I think one more will do the trick.”

Jungkook let out a chuckle, opening his eyes only to find your beautiful irises staring back at him with that playful and lustful glint.

“You’re impossible.” He scoffed with an endearing shake of his head.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Imagine your vampire husband guiding you onto your werewolf best friend’s cock, cooing softly as you winced in discomfort at the stretch.

“Oh, my little angel… you’re taking it so well, can’t you be a good girl for your dear friend and give him a litter of pups?”

You whimpered, staring down at your friend. His wrists were bound to the bed frame, but you could see in his eyes that all he wanted to do was ravish you, to have his hands all over your soft, delicate body.

But your husband held the reins. He was the one guiding you, digging his nails into the werewolf’s thigh if he bucked his hips upwards a bit too roughly.

Your husband sneered, looking down at your friend with his scarlet eyes.

“Gentle, mutt. Getting to fuck my wife is a privilege that I can take away. Now…”

His voice became gentle again, a purr escaping his lips as his fangs brushed against your neck. “Is it feeling good, my angel? Oh, you want it a little faster?”

Even though you were bouncing on your friend’s cock, you called out your husband’s name. He was the one moving your hips at the perfect pace, rubbing your clit in circles and biting into your neck, your friend was basically just a dildo to your husband.

“There we go, take his knot love. It’ll be uncomfortable for a moment, but you’ll get used to it…”

After leaving both of you a complete mess, your husband untied your friend, then carried you away. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart. Shh, don’t worry about him… he’s already asleep.”

Your husband ravished you as soon as you were in his bedroom, reveling in the fact that he got to touch you when no one else could.

#vampire x reader #vampire #vampire boyfriend #vampire imagine #vampire x reader x werewolf #x reader #chubby reader #x reader smut #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #chubby!reader #plus size reader #monster fudger #monster imagine #monster fic #monster smut #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf imagine #werewolf boyfriend #cw cucking #vampire smut #werewolf smut

[kenntolog]

I was wondering if you could do Sukuna fingering Loser GF for the first time

𝝑𝝔 an: okay sooo i hope this is good enough. i have never written about fingering bro how am i gonna write the real deal? if anyone can give advice on writing smut my dms are opennnn :>>> there will be a direct continuation of this because there is a request for sukuna and readers first time. read more here!!

“take ‘em off, baby,” sukuna urges you gently, his hands busy with clasping off your bra while you obediently slide off your panties, both of you breathing heavily.

despite the intimate atmosphere set in the room; the dim lighting of your lamp in the darkness, the hushed conversing and occasional shuffling around in the sheets — you still feel nervous and sukuna senses it clearly. he is nervous too, but his reasoning is different from yours as he can barely keep himself in bay to not devour you.

the softness of your tits makes him groan in satisfaction, a groan that transports right into your mouth as it opens in a surprised moan. he captures your bottom lip between his, sucking on it lightly before he lets it go with a ‘pop’ and licks into your mouth instead, drinking in your frustrated whines.

his fingers trail down your body, appreciative of every dip and roll as you put your arm around his shoulder while the other weaves it’s fingers through his dark hair, gripping them whenever sukuna’s mouth suctions on the sof skin of your neck.

the feeling of his cold digits pressing right to the middle of your count, the contrast between the chill and the hotness that radiates from the wet skin makes you shudder in his arms as you stare up at him with your big glossy eyes, waiting for him to do something.

sukuna’s such a tease though, he can’t help that he wants to mess with you a little; his fingers running circles around your clit and never on it, the slightest contact making you wince and whine in frustration. smile barely hidden, he kisses you, caressing the top of your head soothingly.

perfectly shaped ‘oh!’ forms out of your mouth, when one finger breaching your walls slowly, and sukuna watches you like it’s the most interesting and important thing in the world right now, eyes running over your expressive features.

he chuckles, pushing his finger further in, “d’you hear yourself, little one?”

you close your eyes along with your mouth, embarrassment washing over you as you cover your face with your forearm. it’s tugged back down by sukuna, who’s red orbs blaze with the intensity of a fire.

“don’t you dare.”

you nod meekly, gasping when his middle finger is joined by the ring one and his other hand’s thumb. he presses lightly, like he knows exactly how you’re feeling — how his touch literally burns despite the coldness of his fingertips, and how you can barely stand his attention, somewhere other than your face.

“‘kuna~” you whine, voice a little raspy, hushed, just like he loves it. sukuna curls his fingers inside of you and you writhe in his arms, tightening your hold around his shoulders and hand as his pace gets quicker, wilder with every passing second.

“i wanna taste you so bad,” he mutters lowly into your mouth, swallowing your languid moans, as he thoroughly fingers you. “i want you to cum.”

“s’kuna, ah— don’t stop—”

“i wouldn’t do it for the world.”

nails dig into his shoulder and scalp, your body twitching and thrashing as he watches you in awe, smile a little wicked and eyes filled with ecstasy that almost matches yours.

“c’mon, baby, do it for me.”

“ah, ‘kuna! i can’t—”

“i know you can.”

he kisses you jaw as you scream silently, teeth biting into your bottom lip while your hips move as if they have a mind of their own, following his fingers’ smooth movements as he lets you ride out your high. you continue panting heavily as sukuna continues gazing at you as if you’re the prettiest picture in the whole world.

the sight of him licking his fingers clean makes you groan in embarrassment as you hide your face in the junction between his neck and shoulder, “sukuna! that’s gross.”

“sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted.”

he weaves his fingers through your hair and tugs at it slightly, making you look up at him.

“d’you wanna continue, baby?”

you nod and sukuna chuckles at the thrill he sees in the depths of your eyes.

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

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

Rating: M (18+)

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

Word Count: 5.2k

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

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

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

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

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

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

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

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

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

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

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

You: Can’t sleep

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

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

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

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

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

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

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

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

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

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

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

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

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

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

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

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

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

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

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

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

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

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

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

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

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

You: You’re so dumb

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

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

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

You: What?

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

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

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

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

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

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

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

You: Don’t tease me

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

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

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

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

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

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

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

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

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

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

You: I could come over

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

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

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

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

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

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

“I want what you promised me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Gyu, please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

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

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

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

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

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

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

“Kiss me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I might have some ideas.” 

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

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

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

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

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

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

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being honest about what I would change about my boyfriend?

🥊🥊

I’m a cis guy (22m) and I have a boyfriend that’s transgender (20m). We’ve been together for 2 years.

My boyfriend is a very cute guy and he gets hit on a lot in queer spaces tbh. even by lesbians, and they fully see him as a guy. He’s just very sweet and approachable I guess. A lot of people tell him he’s super attractive and I agree, but there are just certain things about his body that don’t appeal to me.

We were at a friend’s birthday party. People got drunk, I was tipsy. We played this game that was like cards with questions about relationships/love/intimacy on them and the whole group would discuss.

One of the questions was something along the lines of "If you could change anything about your partner, what would it be?" Or whatever.

Now, I went first and said I’d probably make him less hairy and get rid of the dark spots in his crotch area and his acne scars. He has some discoloration around his private areas from a rash he got when he was like 13 and some faint scarring from pimples I guess. It’s not an issue, but definitely not my preference. Plus he can’t really shave clean down there because he has thick hair and it always makes him get those razor burn bumps or whatever. Fine by me, he’s hot as hell either way.

Plus, he has a lot of discoloration around his shoulders, back, chest and face from severe acne outbreaks from his puberty and then later again when he started taking testosterone. It’s calmed down a lot, but the scarring is still very prominent. It’s not an issue, just not very pretty to look at.

Please don’t get me wrong. He’s an incredibly attractive person, I just wish his skin was a little prettier. It’s a bit of a turnoff, that’s all. It never stopped me from being absolutely enamored with him.

But when I explained this, a little less explicitly than this of course, the group went dead silent. Everyone was staring at me, some of the girls even clasped their hands over their mouths etc.

When I looked at my boyfriend he was completely pale and was just blankly staring at me before getting up and saying he needs to pee. I just said okay and then gave the card to the person next to me. She very quietly said she’d take away her girlfriend’s anxiety because it hurts her to see the person she loves like that. That’s when it sort of dawned on me that I messed up and that I was way out of line for saying these things in front of our friends.

He apparently left soon after that, which I only found out through a friend. I was a little confused but figured he was just a little embarrassed. We don’t live together, so it isn’t unusual for one of us to leave before the other. But then I found out that his best friend left with him because he was sobbing and couldn’t stop.

I tried calling him and texting him for multiple hours and didn’t want to overstep any boundaries by just popping up at his home, so I gave up and eventually went home. That was two days ago and I still haven’t heard from him. He’s usually a very clingy and noisy person and always sends me small updates throughout the day, but I haven’t heard anything from him the entire time.

I’m so scared. I love this guy so much, he’s the sweetest and the single most interesting person I’ve ever met in my life. I know he has a lot of severe insecurity issues around his body, especially regarding his scarring. But it’s all gotten a lot better in recent months and he even began to love how hairy he is because it makes him feel euphoric.

Now I can’t help but feel like I took that away from him because of some stupid game. But at the same time, I don’t think it was fair for him to just up and leave without talking to me. We could’ve talked it out and I just wish he would communicate with me.

I already know I was a bit out of line for this, but I just tend to be uncomfortably honest. He knows this and loves me for it, so I’m confused why he’s THIS upset about this one. He’s never gone this long without talking to me.

Am I the asshole? I was just playing the game. I don’t think it’s fair to call me cruel for this just because other people are scared to be honest and say shit like they’d take away their partner’s mental illness. It’s so fake and that shit just pisses me off. Everyone has something they would change about their partner’s appearance.

#aita #am i the asshole

[cutielando]

puppy ~ charles leclerc

requested by anon: Hi lovely, can I please request something with Charles adopting a puppy with his girlfriend, I just can't get over how cute leo is 😭🫶🏻

a/n: so sorry it took me so long!!

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

You loved your boyfriend.

Charles loved you.

You were living the life that people could only dream of living. Living with him in Monaco in a shared apartment, you traveled all around the world with him, you had a flexible job. You had everything you could ever want.

Then why did it feel like something was missing?

As you looked around your apartment, the place felt empty.

You got that feeling every time Charles would leave for a race and you wouldn’t be able to join him.

Everything was silent, so peaceful. You loved it most of the time, being a nice change from your otherwise very hectic lifestyle, but it would sometimes become suffocating, being there by yourself.

Which is what you would tell Charles whenever he would call and you would be feeling down.

He had been away for Japan this time, your university classes holding you back in Monaco for the time being. He had called you as soon as he was done with the race, instantly feeling your sadness on the other end of the phone.

“Mon chérie, I can tell you’re not okay” he said, imagining you pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Amour, I’ve told you, I’m okay. Uni is just kicking my ass and my boss is being a jerk more than usual” you said, forcing out a chuckle.

Technically, you weren’t lying. Uni always got more stressful than usual as the summer break was approaching, and it was sometimes hard balancing it out with your job, but that wasn’t the reason behind your sour mood.

You had had time to reflect on your dilemma and had finally come to a conclusion.

You guys needed a puppy.

“Mon ange, you know I don’t like it when you try to lie to me. What’s going on?” he pressed, wanting to make you feel better by any means necessary, even if he was halfway across the world at the moment.

You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so it was resting on the couch.

Maybe you should have waited to tell him in person, but you figured that he would have more time to reflect on it until he got home.

“We need a puppy” you blurted out.

It was silent on his end for a few seconds. You immediately regretted saying it, your brain started to malfunction.

That was until you heard his sweet laugh through the phone, making your nerves slightly less consuming.

“You scared me so much, amour. Is that what your moping around has been about? Adopting a puppy?” his laughter had now died down, his tone being replaced with a gentle one.

“I just - it feels like there is something missing. We’re happy, we have a very spacious apartment for just the two of us and I get really lonely when I can’t join you for races” you explained, now pacing around the living room as you made your case to your boyfriend over the phone.

Charles listened to your rambling with a smile on his face. He knew how much you loved pets, especially dogs. You had grown up in a house full of them, going crazy over every dog you would bump into on the street.

He loved watching you interact with them, seeing you care for them even if they weren’t your own.

Which is why he had been planning to surprise you with your very own puppy once he got back from Japan.

Joris had taken care of everything, lying to you every time you would get suspicious or whenever he felt like he was about to be discovered.

But luckily for him, you did not suspect a thing.

“Mon ange, why didn’t you say something sooner? You know I would love nothing more than to adopt a puppy with you and grow our family” he said, already mentally coming up with the best plan to surprise you when he got home.

You sighed, realizing that you had been worrying for nothing. You knew Charles loved pets, and you had always talked about adopting one in the future, so why had you been so nervous to bring it up with your boyfriend?

Nobody knew, really.

“How about we talk some more when you get home? I don’t think this is a conversation to have on the phone” you chuckled, not wanting to delve into the topic too deep.

He agreed, wishing you a good night before he hung up.

But, despite what he had told you, he didn’t go to sleep. No, there were more important matters to be handled. Like figuring out a way to surprise you with your new puppy without getting detected. 

He thought it over and over again, and the only answer that he came up with was picking up the dog on his way home from the airport from Joris. He figured there was no need to complicate things, you didn’t like complicated stuff.

The next day, you had woken up to a text from Charles telling you his plane would land in a few minutes time and that there was no need for you to pick him up from the airport as Joris had agreed to give him a lift.

You didn’t think anything of it, Charles always having made it clear you would never have to drive him anywhere, you were his passenger princess.

Figuring he would be hungry when he got back, you got started on a simple but filling breakfast, Charles’ favorite breakfast that you made when he would get back from good race weekends. You put on some music and started cooking, not even noticing the time passing by quickly.

You were in your own little world when you heard the front door open and close, calling out your boyfriend’s name.

“Charles? I’m in the kitchen” you called out into the hallway, returning to flipping the last of your pancakes before turning off the stove.

Charles didn’t say anything, afraid not to disturb the small puppy nestled in his arms and prompt it to start barking. He had discarded his luggage by the door, now only holding the little dog and slowly walking over to the kitchen.

He could have sworn that your reaction to seeing the puppy was priceless and forever imprinted into his brain. The way your eyes lit up and filled with tears upon seeing him was nothing like he had ever seen before.

“You did not” you said, too shocked to even move from your spot.

“I did. I’ve been secretly arranging some things in order to adopt this little guy. We were supposed to get him in a couple of weeks, but when you told me yesterday that you wanted a puppy, I figured I would speed things up a little bit” he explained, walking over to you.

You cooed once he got close enough, gently taking the puppy from him and nuzzling his little body to your chest. There were no words to describe how you felt holding your new dog, the amount of love you already felt for such a little human being. 

The little dachshund puppy looked up at you, its deep brown eyes already having you wrapped around his little finger. You nuzzled your nose with his, internally screaming because of how cute he was.

“What’s his name?” you asked, not even looking away from the little guy.

Charles chuckled, knowing your reaction was exactly what he had been expecting from you. Already doting on the little dog nestled in your arms, like you had had him forever.

“Leo. Leo Leclerc” he answered, watching your eyes light up even more.

“Leo” you whispered, looking down at the newest addition to your little family. “Welcome to the Leclerc family, Leo”

You spent another minute or two gazing at the dog, Charles not moving an inch from his spot as he admired you interacting with the dachshund. He knew, in those moments as he watched you interacting with the dog, that you were the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

“I’ve never loved you as much as I love you in this moment” you told him, shuffling closer to him and stretching your neck so you can press a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I love you too”

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 x reader #cl16

[rninies]

endless love ⟡ aventurine

synopsis early mornings with aventurine

warnings fluff, gn!reader, you're both so in love </3 me when

NOTES AVENTURINE AVENTURINE AVENTURINE AVENTURINE AVENTURINE AVENTURINE

sunlight creeps in between the curtains, waking you up from your peaceful slumber. squinting, your eyes instinctively searched for the figure next to you. aventurine is still asleep, surprisingly. he’s always the first one wide awake in the morning, so seeing aventurine still asleep is a rare occurrence.

you gently rolled over to your side, laying a hand under your head, supporting it. everything about aventurine is pretty; his face, his eyes, his hands, everything.

not just five minutes after waking up, aventurine’s eyes flutter open. when his eyes meet yours, he gives you a smile. “hey,”

you return the smile. “hey. how was your sleep?” you scoot closer to him, gently caressing his head.

“mm… it was good. better,” he replies.

“better how exactly?” you question.

“better because you’re here.” aventurine says so casually, and you swear your heart is about to burst by the way he’s just looking at you. “did i successfully fluster you at 9am in the morning?”

“you-” you can’t help but stop speaking. “how can you be this flirty early morning?”

aventurine laughs, your favorite sound in the whole world. “well, maybe it’s because you’re the one who’s making this… flirty side of me come out.” he laughs when he sees your face go red. “you bring out the best of me, you know that right?”

you hide your face in your hands. “stop being so cheesy already i can’t stand it.” that was a lie. you love it when aventurine starts expressing his love for you. it’s a rare occurrence, you can say, as aventurine expressing his love happens once in a blue moon. and, he is right about one thing.

you do bring out the best of him.

“do you have any plans for today?” you ask him, silently praying that he doesn’t.

aventurine hums. “mm, i don’t think so. the IPC hasn’t notified me of any new missions.”

your eyes brighten. “really?!” aventurine nods, eyes widening at your sudden outburst. “okay! that’s great! we can finally go on a date today!”

“a date-?” aventurine repeats. “but i didn’t plan-”

you shushed me. “i planned something for us. i mean, you can’t blame me! i’ve been wanting to go on a date with you for so long but you’ve been so busy with missions lately.” you can’t help but pout, remembering all the days you spent home alone in your shared apartment. aventurine only comes home late at night, and if you’re lucky enough, he’ll be home right before 10 pm.

aventurine can’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. “okay. i’ll go get ready and we can go on a date, yeah?” he kisses the top of your forehead affectionately, giving your butterflies in your stomach.

“mhm.” you nod.

you really do love him.

#kylin.writes #aventurine #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail aventurine #honkai star rail fluff #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine

[chrollohearttags]

listen..listen. I know I said no more JJK but I literally cannot stop thinking about store manager!sukuna 😩

morning sex, black fem!reader, mirror play, backshots, calls reader love and miss, modern au ofc, lil bit of tummy bulging + squirting, he calls women females unironically (he’s from Houston okay JSJSJSJEHJ)

📝: as always, this was supposed to be shorter but I cannot do a proper ‘drabble’ to save my life. I’m sorry!

you had always made it your mission to never be caught dead with Sukuna after hours. Once the lights to the Foot Locker location you were stationed at shut off and the doors locked, that was as far as your business went…at least that’s what you told everyone. Yet here you were at seven in the morning, shuffling around his bedroom, trying to gather your belongings.

“I don’t see the rush, love. The store doesn’t open for another three hours..we have time.” “Yeah, that’s nice, Ryo. I gotta get up out of here..can’t believe you kept me here all night.”

a statement to which he could only cackle in response. Sitting up against the headboard in nothing more than a pair of sleeping shorts and that goofy grin on his face, the suave mannered playboy with his stocky build and plethora of tattoos would merely shield his face in an attempt to feign from laughing at you..honestly, it wasn’t to poke fun or anything like that. He just found it rather amusing that you were frantic over a decision that you made willingly. After all, it was you clinging on to him after dinner and saying how he could have you for dessert instead..unable to quell your true urges now that work had concluded. Naturally, he was fine with that because after watching you strut about in your skin tight dress and heels, he was losing his mind. “And where are you going?” By this time, you were in the bathroom, standing before a large, illuminated mirror as you heard footsteps out of earshot. Suddenly, you’d glance up to see that six foot five frame towering over you. That’s when you’d feel those veiny hands coil around your exposed torso. (Y/N) was only dressed in a cropped tank top that you had worn underneath your ensemble from the previous day and naturally, no bra..which left those plump breasts somewhat exposed and the nipples poking through..

“I already told you..I gotta get out of here..” you were obviously flustered but not because you actually wanted to leave but because you were hoping this would happen..that he’d give you a reason to stay a bit longer. “Like I said…” curling those digits around your throat, he’d gently pull you back towards him and into a searing kiss. Your tongues and lips smacking as they clashed against one another. “What’s the rush?…” by that time, he knew he had worn you down because he could feel your body relax within his grasp. This man knew you like the back of his hand. You played as if you were so stoic and about your business. But what you needed the most was to be taken care of and needless to say, he was happy to fill that void. “C’mon, miss. You knew what it was when you came home with me…let’s go for round two..” l In a matter of moments, your gazes met and those dark eyes locked in on your own. Even upon freshly waking up, he smelled divine and looked so damn sexy! It was the exact reason you couldn’t be here in this capacity with him. But yet again, you found yourself captured in his essence; falling into his trap and you’d let him take over. You’d allow him to scale his hands up and down your frame as those lips were now ravaging your neck; licking and suckling at your throat and leaving subtle marks in his wake…with your exposed ass grinding gently against his pelvis. It was blatantly obvious that you had no plans to leave as you stated!

“I’ll ask again…are you sure you wanna leave?” A very confident and assured Ryomen rhetorically questioned after seeing you writhe around. Something he’d only make worse when he decided to shove two of his fingers into the seat of those soaked panties. Which caused you to emit a gasp. Those surprisingly soft finger pads circulating your clit. It didn’t take long for him to get his answer when you began squirming and rutting yourself against him..causing immense friction and arousal. You’d whimper and mumble but that wouldn’t suffice in his book! “Words, baby..use your words. C’mon..” that deep, buttery smooth voice chuckling and rattling off in your ear yet again. He knew exactly what he was doing and you’d fall for it each time..

“Unt uh…want you.” “That’s what I was waiting to hear..lift that fucking leg.”

baring his teeth like a ravenous animal, he’d plant a heavy smack against your plump asscheek..with that, he’d prop your leg on the counter and burrowed himself behind you…by now, he’d casually slid the waistband of his shorts down, revealing that stiffened cock that had grown erect from hearing your gentle whimpers. From seeing how needy you were.. “…ooh fuck..” mumbling the words whilst sucking his teeth as he tugged that thin panty string to the side and revealed that plump pussy and the glistening juices surrounding the center. There was no way you were leaving until he got every drop of that on his shaft! “..need that pussy right now..gotta have this shit..” He couldn’t even be vexed to waste time teasing you. And instead, he’d grasp at your waste and tug you back onto his cock. The initial sensation and sound that you both made once he was inside of you caught the two of you off guard. You’d both curse under your breath and (y/n)’s eyes would even roll back. Normally, his thrusts were a bit slower paced..wanting to take his sweet time while he was in it but as you had already gotten him riled up, that much more rambunctious side was coming forth. Clapping flesh and wet smacking filled the once silent bathroom as you became one. He’d find himself mesmerized by the ripple of your round cheeks bouncing against him as he gripped the small of your back for leverage.

“Mmmph…Ryo…too much..” crying and whimpering as the thickness of that girthy cock stretched you out. With the pace of those strokes, you were already beginning to from a frothy sheath around him and obviously, he craved more of it! “What’s wrong, love? You said you wanted me, right?…” prompting you to nod as he clutched your throat and sped up once more. “Y-yess…fuck.” “Then take this dick then. Make a mess on my shit, baby. You know how I like it.”

Cackling maniacally as he bottomed out inside of that swollen cunt, pounding you senseless until you could barely keep your head straight, only mustering strength to clutch the sink. He was drilling your shit with little mercy and wasn’t letting up until he accrued the mess he desired. You could feel the bump in the pit of your stomach and you swore you were going to tap out right there. But alas, Ryomen had other plans! Hoisting your head up, he’d snatch your tank top down to expose those breasts and force you stare in the mirror at his work. “The best part about fucking you like this…is knowing how jealous you get me. How you make that lil’ face when you see me talking to other females…shit’s so cute. You’d go crazy if I gave this dick to somebody else..” Gliding that tongue across your lips whilst whispering in your ear..still aggressively pounding you in the process. Which you couldn’t deny! You’d put on this hyper independent facade but you were rather infatuated with him and would become so upset if he even so much as entertained another girl. However, they were all tactics to get his true goal.

“But you don’t have to worry about that..this is all you, baby…”

tapping into his final speed, he’d keep you reigned in and feed you deep strokes until he could feel you clamping down. It was no question as to whether you were close but he was going to get you there because he knew your body better than you did sometimes. “Go ‘head. Squirt for me, love..” smirking whilst slapping your cheek again. You’d look surprised but again, he could sense that pressure building up and knew what was going to follow. “I know what you need, let go..it’s fine.” And you didn’t disappoint! Your bare feet curled up on the cold tile as those juices spilled from between your thighs. “Oh God! Shit..” falling apart in a matter of seconds. Watching you writhe was all the satisfaction he needed to know he could reach his own peak. Pinning you down by the shoulders, Ryo held you in place as he announced his own climax and eventually splattered your back with his cum. That warm, white substance contrasting with your dark skin..such a beautiful sight!

“Damn, baby…swear you always know how to get me right. Come here..”

The two of you began engaging in a barrage of sloppy kisses and smiling against one another’s lips. “..love you..” “..love you too, Ryo.” Now, the day could officially begin! And you both felt as if you could accomplish anything.

“Now let’s get ready for work. Come shower with me.”

“Unt uh..wait your ass in that bed. We’ll never get there on time if we do that.”

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #black fem reader #jjk x black reader #sukuna #sukuna x black reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk au #jjk modern au #jujutsu sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #sukuna headcanons #black reader #black reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu ryomen

[i2sunric]

LOVE IS (NOT) EASY (l.hs)

summary: there was nothing you hated more than the smell of cigarettes and smokers. always acting as if they were above anything else. but just like persephone learnt how to love hades, then why couldn’t you learn how to love heeseung?

warnings: fingering, rough sex, chocking, gagging, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), blowjob, squirting, heeseung is toxic, heeseung smokes, reader hates cigarettes, situationship with benefits?, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, pet names (babe, baby, slut), lmk if more. (strangely) proofread.

published: 9th May 2024

wc: 3.5k

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns (one shot) @slut4hee @ineedsomezzz @deobitifull @smisworld @mitmit01 @the-poetic-side-of-me @cha0thicpisces @heeseungsbitvh

Blasting music, almost at a deafening volume, blinding lights and the mixed smell of sweat and alcohol. That was how your birthday party was going on, all your friends and friends of friends filling the room, making the air heavy.

You kept smiling and greeting people you hadn’t even invited, accepting kind birthday wishes. You were in desperate need of fresh air but you were also trying to find Lee Heeseung.

Your relationship was rather complicated, if you had to be honest. You weren’t a couple, because Heeseung made it clear from the first day you met that he couldn’t afford love. But you also weren’t just nothing.

Whatever it was, he was supposed to show up at your birthday party— well, he actually did, he greeted you with the most false smile you could’ve ever see and then disappeared in thin air.

You knew he hated social gatherings, especially if it was with people outside his corrupted and not so safe group of friends, but you thought he’d at least celebrate with you.

You stumbled on your heels, making your way through the crowd until you finally reached the entrance of the room you rented and went outside.

The cold air hit your barely covered skin, the thin and tight dress you chose as an outfit doing nothing to cover you from the chilly weather.

It was when you focused on your surroundings that you noticed a pair of familiar broad shoulders covered in utterly familiar leather jacket.

You walked beside him and frowned when you noticed he was yet again smoking a cigarette, the bitter smell of it tickling your nostrils “Seriously?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes and took another long drag from his cigarette, "You look good tonight, babe."

You let out a small sigh, looking at him with a sharp stare. Heeseung wasn’t one to do things out of kindness, he was selfish and only did what he could to take advantage himself. You just hoped he’d listen to you once— But again, hope was not on your side. when it came to him.

“You promised you wouldn’t smoke today.” You stated, reminding him of your previous conversation.

He let out a groan, "You're impossible to make happy." He put out the cigarette and threw it on the ground, stepping on it, "There. You happy now?" He raised an eyebrow.

It wasn’t very nice to just throw the cigarette on the ground and leave it there, but you weren’t going to complain since his lungs would have less smoke in them.

“Come on, Hee.” You stepped in front of him, your height difference was clear that way “It’s my birthday, you said it was my gift.”

Heeseung let out another groan, "Don't pull that card on me. it doesn't work anymore." He mumbled and pulled you closer by the waist, "I didn't want to be here in the first place. We could have celebrated it alone and had a lot more fun together."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your figures melting together “But I wanted to celebrate it with my friends too.”

"Well, I am better than them—“ He raised a brow, “They can’t satisfy you the way I do.”

Heeseung leaned down to kiss you, his tongue licking your bottom lip. He pulled away, "Don't forget it" He whispered on your lips but it came off as threatening.

“Oh, so now you’re better than them?” You asked, teasing him as you pulled your face away from his.

He pulled you back, his hand gripping onto your chin tightly, "I’ve always been. Who else would put up with your attitude?" He said with a cocky smirk.

You sighed, shaking your head “What attitude?” You mumbled, slightly offended.

Heeseung pulled harder on your chin so you looked up at him, "Look at you right now, always trying to make me mad." His voice was husky, sending shivers down your spine.

“But you like it?” You asked, your quiet voice going straight to his cock— however he couldn’t just steal you away from your party, could he?

Heeseung had a thing for toying with you, confusing you, leaving you just to claim you all over again. Cause no matter how much you acted like you hated him, you knew there was no going back from his game.

His fingers trailed down from your chin to your neck, squeezing the sides slightly, "You don’t know a damn thing abou what I like." He mumbled and leaned down to kiss you again.

He pulled away before you had the chance to respond, "Go inside. I’ll join you in a minute" He demanded.

You pointed a finger at his chest, wanting to sound threatening “No more cigs.”

Heeseung grabbed your hand and kissed it, "You know I can't make promises I don't intend to keep" He squeezed your hand.

"I'll see you inside" he smirked and walked away before you could give him another response.

“Heeseung!” You shouted, watching as he walked away. He didn’t even turn around, he just waved one of his hands and disappeared in the middle of the night; just like he always did.

You groaned, frustrated with him, but most of all with yourself, for always letting him lead you on. You just went back to your birthday party, now feeling ever worse than you were before.

You took a deep breath before entering the room, the smell of alcohol replacing the bitter one of cigarettes and Heeseung’s wood cologne.

You tried to enjoy your night but you couldn’t really, your mind always drifting to the bane of your existence who wore an under-washed leather jacket and always had a cigarette between his lips.

⟡

So called devil had the audacity to show his face again when you were already at home, after fixing all the mess your guests had made— which was huge and took you the whole night. Birds chirped outside, signalling it was already early morning and you couldn’t wait to just fall asleep in your bed.

You heard the overly familiar sound of your bedroom window opening and closing right away, signalling the presence of a new person inside your apartment.

You had just removed your heels and stood in the middle of the room, in front of Heeseung’s tall figure. His demeanour was a little more dishevelled and messy than it had been a few hours before; but you could still smell the odour of cigarettes on him. He saw the unamused look on your face and smirked before walking closer to you.

Heeseung grabbed your waist and kissed you, "Stop sulking." He mumbled against your lips.

You pushed his chest, obviously not doing any damage to him “Let go.” You said sternly.

He pushed you slightly against the wall, trapping you and leaning closer, "Stop acting like this. You're mad at me all the time. I’m sick and tired of coming home to a pissed off Y/N." He said and kissed you again, more roughly.

You kissed him back with the same passion, your lips crashing together, tongues intertwining.

“Stop making me mad, then.” You mumbled, your fingers grasping his dark hair.

"Everything I do makes you mad." Heeseung murmured and kissed all over your neck, biting down occasionally to leave marks, claiming you, “You’re never satisfied.”

You blindly removed his jacket and let it fall on the ground with a small thud. You clumsily tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, “Cause you never listen.”

Heeseung pushed off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, "Stop picking fights with me, then." He mumbled, his lips trailing down from your neck to your chest as your palms wandered around his bare torso.

You let out head fall back on the wall, the rough touch of his lips on your skin sending butterflies in your stomach “Can’t.” You answered.

He gripped onto your thighs and lifted you up, making you straddle him. He moved your face to look at him, "Look at me."

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling and looked into his eyes as he demanded.

His pupils were dilated from the tobacco and probably some other things you were too afraid to ask; still, they were beautiful.

Heeseung leaned forward to kiss you again, biting down on your bottom lip, both of you moaning when you tasted blood "Say my name." He mumbled against your lips.

“Heeseung,” You breathed out, moving your hips on the evident bulge you felt underneath your clothed core.

Heeseung carried you to the bed, laying you down underneath him, his lips still on yours, "Tell who you belong to.” His voice became almost commanding.

His figure hovered on yours, like a shadow covering all the light from your life— you were almost hypnotised by his deadly beauty “You, Hee.”

Heeseung lifted up your dress over your hips and looked up at you with a smirk, "That’s what I thought." He mumbled and left kisses along the lace of your underwear.

You let out a soft hum as his plump lips trailed kisses on your sensitive and burning skin. Your hand went against to grasp the back of his head, “I’m still m-mad at you.”

Your voice intended to sound threatening but it only came out as shaky and weak.

Heeseung pulled off your underwear and tossed it to the side, going back to leaving bite marks on your inner thighs, "Show me how mad you are, baby.” He mumbled against your skin, sending vibrations through your whole body.

He left a few bites in the same spots, marking them as his before he reached up and held your jaw, "Don’t pull me away." He said and leaned down to kiss you once again.

As easy as said if it wasn’t for his fingers that snuck to inside of you without you even realising until he started curling them to brush against your sensitive spot.

You gasped for air, but when you did he stopped moving his fingers. You knew he wanted to tease, drive you insane and make you beg— But who were you to disobey?

Heeseung held your chin in his grasp “Don’t fucking pull away.” He demanded again and pulled you into a make out session.

His fingers brushed against your gummy walls, at full speed without even leaving you time to adjust to the new intrusion.

Your mouth fell agape at the funny sensation building inside you and Heeseung took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, moaning lowly when it met yours.

He reached down to unzip his jeans, "Can’t wait to make you forget all of the things I did." He mumbled against your lips.

Heeseung was quick to discard his jeans on the floor, somewhere unknown.

He leaned back, sitting on his knees. He grabbed your waist and positioned you in front of him, "You look so pretty like this, Y/N" He mumbled, staring down at you in only your bra and dress on top of your thighs.

You glanced back at him, your eyes hooded and full of lust. He removed his fingers from inside of you and he smirked at the sight of your face,

"You can't hide how bad you want me…” His hand trailing up your thighs and over your hips before reaching up to undo your bra.

He wrapped your underwear around your mouth, forcing you to keep silent and allowing him to use you the way he wanted.

Heeseung leaned down and looked at you, "Be quiet and pretty like you were made for.”

You let out a hum that felt more like a whimper, your slick pooling your thighs. Heeseung smirked satisfactorily and put two fingers back inside of you, rubbing your g-spot that he knew so well, making you muffle moan.

You tried to grip his arm when you felt the same funny sensation building inside your stomach but Heeseung never haltered his movements until you squirted all over the sheets and his abdomen.

Your body shook with overstimulation when his fingers kept thrusting inside your pussy, Heeseung cooed “Already? We haven’t even started.”

You shook your head, your eyes squeezing, whimpers leaving your mouths as if to beg him to stop.

Heeseung took your chin in his hands, his fingers digging inside your cheeks. He raised a brow and removed your bra from your mouth, throwing it to the side “Need that warm mouth around my cock, mh?”

With you still laying underneath him, he crawled until his clothed bulge was hovering on your face. You quickly complied and lowered his boxers, palming his hard tip, already leaking precum.

Heeseung wasted no time and fisted your hair, taking control of your head “Open your mouth.” He demanded and again, you gave him what he wanted.

As soon as you opened your mouth he bucked his hips, making you gag on his thick length.

Your gags only made him want to hear more, so he kept thrusting his hips, hitting the back of your throat “Fuck, feels so good.”

The warmth of your mouth hugging his cock and the drool dripping down your chin almost made him cum right away, so he had to slow down, making slow but deep thrusts.

You held his hips and started bobbing your head, hooling your cheeks, Heeseung chuckled at your devotion “Such a good girl for me, trained you to please me so well.”

You hummed, his cock vibrating in your mouth, making his head fall back.

He let go of your hair and thrusted a few more times, just enough to make you gag again before pulling out. You let out a deep breath, your whole chin and chest coated with drool.

He glanced down at you, looking just like the erotic dreams he had when he was a teenager, all messed up by him.

Heeseung bent down to kiss you, pulling you into a quick make out session. He then quickly discarded his boxers as well and moved back between your legs, spreading your thighs apart.

The cold air hitting your pussy made you clench around nothing “Oh baby, I’ll ruin you so bad.” He mumbled, licking a long strip from your wet pussy.

“Heeseung,” You gasped out, “Please.”

He shook his head “What did we say about words? You need to use them, come on, be a good girl and say what you want.”

“Please Hee…” You whined when his fingers brushed against your clit “Fuck me, Fuck me hard.”

Heeseung bit down his bottom lip and let out a mocking scowl “This slut can’t think without a cock to stretch her out?” He caressed your cheek, ever so tenderly before grasping your face, “You remember the safe word?”

Even in your hazy state you managed to nod, Heeseung’s eyes were dead serious. Despite his twisted desires, he would never accidentally hurt you during sex, or worse.

“Good, because I won’t hold back.” And with that, he wetted his shaft with your juices, pumping it a few times before entering you with a deep thrust.

You swallowed him whole as he bottomed out already, grasping the sheets underneath you at the sudden stretch, so good yet so painful.

You let out a small whimper, “Shh,” He cooed, fisting your hair to raise your head, making you look at where your bodies connected “Watch me stretch this pussy out.”

His thick length moved back and forth, appearing just to disappear back into you, the shadow of his bulge showing on your stomach, making both of you moan.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me.” Heeseung breathed out, letting go of your hair to cup your breasts, squeezing them.

His fingers played with your nipples, making you clench around him, your walls squeezing back around his cock.

“So sensitive?” He scowled, bending down to lick your tits as his thrusts reached a delicious rhythm, not too slow but not also too hard.

His scent mixing with sweat and your own sheets’ one was enough to drive you insane, your thoughts getting cloudy and you dropped your head back on the mattress.

Heeseung raised himself up and looked at your body, laid down so pretty underneath him. His gaze went to the dress still around your hips, “Wearing that dress at a party, you knew you’d make me mad, right?”

You shook your head, not even having the slightest energy to speak with the way his cock kept hitting your cervix, his movements becoming even more intense “All those men at the party were eye fucking you,” He groaned at his own statement, his eyes so dark, “Wanted to claim you, take you right there on the fucking gift table,” He slapped your breast “Showing them who you belong to.”

Your eyes were half lidded as you tried to open them “Only w-want you.” You replied, another moan escaping you with one particular deep thrust.

“You better,” His fingers trailed your jawline, his touch tender unlike what you were doing “Only I can fuck you like you want, treat you right, mh?”

You nodded again at his words, your hands grasping his shoulders to keep yourself steady “And you don’t want to know what’d happen if you ever let another man look in your direction.”

He tilted his head back gritting his teeth with a hiss. Your gaze was now on him as he stared back down at you with lustful satisfaction “You’re mine.”

The same sweet feeling built inside your stomach, making your eyes squeeze “Heeseung,” You breathed out.

“Want to cum?” He tsked, one hand going down to your clit to rub it as the other held your leg on his shoulder, “Cum, yes.” You managed to mumble.

Heeseung’s thrusts got deeper, faster, almost maniacally as you fell apart under him, your cum coating his dick.

You’d think he would at least slow his movements, helping you ride out of your orgasm but it was Heeseung you were talking about, and he kept rutting inside you, gripping your hips to help himself.

You tried to make him stop, weakly pushing his chest away. He took your wrists, yanking them away from his chest and holding them on the mattress, pinning you down “Fucking take what I give you.”

You were a whimpering mess, overstimulation making your body quiver underneath him, if it wasn’t for his strong grip you’d be all around the bed “Hee…” You managed to breathe out.

“Sh,” Heseeung ordered, letting go of your wrists to wrap one hand around your neck, squeezing it. The loss of oxygen made your eyes roll back, laying there for him to use, to own.

After a while, he got bored of missionary so he let go of your neck and turned you around, your ass up.

He spanked it, making you moan out at the pain. He inserted himself inside you again and gripped your hips, rutting his cock.

“T-too much.” You cried out, biting down the sheets, the pleasure being too much for your body.

“It’s not.” Heeseung said back, spanking your ass again before reaching for your head, holding it down on the mattress. The position was uncomfortable and you’d surely wake up with a sore neck the next day, but the thought of Heeseung using you for his own pleasure, fucking you like a flesh light.

“Take my fucking dick, baby.” You knew he was close when his breath got heavier, sweat dripping down from his neck to your back “You’re squeezing it so tight.”

He let go of your head and held you up, supporting your body weight so that your back was pressed against his chest, one hand grasping your tit as the other circled your sensitive bud.

You were a moaning mess, tears staining your cheeks and ruining the mascara you had put on.

Heeseung gave one final deep thrust before cumming inside you, his length twitching, load filling you up and at the same time the knot in your stomach snapped, making you cum for the second time of the night.

Heeseung kept pounding, slowly and deeply, fucking his cum back into you, kissing the neck he had marked before.

Both your breaths were heavy, and as he pulled out, you fell on the mattress right away, all your forces leaving your body.

You turned around, laying on your back. You felt the mix of your cum dripping down on your thighs and mattress but you didn’t even care— not at that moment.

Your eyes were so heavy, both from the lack of sleep and the draining sensation coming after sex.

Heeseung placed one pillow under your head and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

You thought you heard a faint “Happy birthday, love.” With a featherlight kiss on your forehead, but you weren’t sure if it was a dream or reality. What you were sure, though, was that when you opened your eyes again the only thing left of Heeseung was the smell of cigarettes and wood.

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[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 3

Previous. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes/language, tension

Summary: having Paige’s number means she can bother you whenever she wants, but maybe a night out with her isn’t a bother at all.

A/n: enjoy guys 😇lmk what you think of this one

YOU

is this paige?

???

Has anyone else given you their number since you got here?

YOU

no…

PAIGE

Aight, so who else would it be then? 🤘🏼

YOU

i should’ve thrown out that napkin tbh!🙂

PAIGE

Ignoring that. How’s the hangover?

YOU

it’s ok. getting coffee helped ig

PAIGE

Having another night out might help too…if u fw that

YOU

with you? id rather die then “fw that” 🙏

PAIGE

Ok rot in ya hotel room see if I care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Seen.

PAIGE

Actually nvm I feel bad for ur miserable ass. U shud fr go out and see what Connecticut has to offer. Ever been to Gianni’s?

YOU

no i haven’t, I’ve only been here for like two days. is it italian food?

PAIGE

Only the best in town 😉 u shud def go

YOU

ugh I would but i have to see if elaine can take me cus my teammates are busy

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

YOU

typing…

YOU CAN FEEL yourself getting socially drained as you text her, at least that’s what you tell yourself. Paige is infuriating and arrogant, which comes with the deadly additions of charisma and the ability to keep you on edge with every word spoken, or even typed.

You’d always known of this, even before your game with her that day. A player like Paige can be hard to come across; perfectly capable, talented and independent yet somehow the best team player out there, sharing passes she can without a doubt make. Why? Because she doesn’t need to prove anything.

It often bothered you, especially since you constantly needed to prove yourself during the start of your college career. You took every shot you could get your hands on, and she gave shots away like candy whilst still having a huge reputation as a player. Obviously it went deeper than that, but the simple fact just stuck to your brain.

You can’t help but recall her face, inches from yours attempting to pry your ball from your grasp. Like she was deserving, like it was hers for the taking. She had made a similar face on the panel where she dissed you soon afterwards, and then again while watching you at the bar, and just before writing her number on the napkin. You wondered if she was making that face right now as she texts you.

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

The text is simple but it summons some sort of unique feeling in you. Paige Bueckers is offering to pick you up in her car, on her night off, and take you to a restaurant. And you, for whatever reason, are considering saying yes.

Sighing to yourself, you weigh your options. Option one: you sit around your hotel alone till your teammates come back, most probably drunk from a bar since it’s a Saturday. Option two: you ask Elaine to take you out once again, even though you’re probably gonna see her the whole week you’re here. Option three: you let the girl who shit-talked you at a post game conference take you out for dinner.

YOU

i guess i should go out. DONT act like ur doing me a favour tho….n if I don’t have fun i’m blocking u.

PAIGE

Drop the addy. I’ll come by in an hour

Seen.

After hurriedly pulling yourself together, taking an Advil, checking out the restaurant’s Instagram and getting ready you can’t help but find your heart steadily hammering inside of you. Paige is coming to your hotel. You’re gonna be in her car. She’s taking you to her favourite restaurant. This has to be the most peculiar thing that has happened all year.

-

The car ride is significantly better then you expected it would be. Paige adamantly seems to prevent any room for awkward silence to seep through, commenting on your outfit and filling the vehicle with music that makes the interior buzz from the volume. She has a free look on her face, chair reclined more then you’d dare if you were in the drivers seat, hair blowing in her face from the windows being down.

“I’m surprised you’re driving me out.” You say, finally airing what was on your mind.

Paige shrugs. “Didn’t feel like drinking today. Plus, I’m in the mood to be generous and show you what Storrs has.”

“If someone told me I’d be hanging out with Paige Bueckers like a week ago, I think I’d be fucking appalled. Or disgusted. Or both.” You laugh.

She chuckles, glancing at you sneakily. “You swear a lot, don’t you?”

“Awe my bad.” You pout, giving her a fake-concerned look. “Forgot you can’t handle a little language.”

“I can handle it,” she grumbles. “I just think cursing is better for specific situations.”

“Like what?”

Paige wets her lips almost sheepishly, but she keeps her eyes straight on the road. “Like sex.”

A beat passes before you respond “Sorry I couldn’t savour a couple words for you and your little kink.”

She looks over at you now, and you meet her gaze as equally as you can. She just lets out a smile, shaking her head to herself as she pulls into the parking lot. You try to ignore the elevator-sinking feeling in your stomach from her words as you get out from the car.

The restaurant is beautiful. It’s cozy, ambient and well decorated. Not too fancy and not too full, just perfect. You’re seated in a more secluded area, per Paige’s request. She orders for you, insisting she knows exactly what to get for the best possible experience.

The food is good, and you don’t feel the need to hide it from Paige, who visibly grows at your praise for the place she picked out.

“So, are you jus in Connecticut for Elaine?” She says.

“Not really.” You reply. “Me and some of the others are just doing a little East Coast road-trip. I wasn’t really interested in coming to Storrs, but it made sense to come by and see her.”

“For a whole week?” She raises her eyebrow. “Seems like you’re close.”

“I was only gonna stay in Storrs for a couple days, then go to Hartford but the girls seem to like it here.” You shrug. “They think it’s cute, being a small town and all, but it’s pretty boring if you’re not a student.”

“It’s better if you’re with fun people.” She smiles.

“I hope you don’t think you’re fun.”

“Compared to Elaine I definitely am.” Paige scoffs.

You can’t help but feel a little more hostility than humour in her tone.

“Do you guys know each other?” You ask, as sly and innocent as you can muster. Paige seems hesitant.

“Nah.” She finally decides. “I mean, we’ve talked before. Ion know her personally.”

“It’s kinda funny, she said she doesn’t pay much attention to you but I think she might have a little crush.” You laugh.

Paige visibly stiffens at this, which catches you by surprise.

In a split second she regains her calm, unbothered composure. “What has she said?”

“Not much.” You shrug. “Just seems a little interested.”

Paige’s jaw clenches for a moment, and you’re not surprised when she changes the subject. “How many people have been on your case since I posted that picture of us from the bar on my story?”

“God, so many.” You laugh, shaking your head. “You?”

“You don’t even wanna know.” She scoffs. “Not sure why everyone was so crazy bout it though, s’not like we were beefing for real.”

“Right!” You say, happy she seems to be on the same page. “It was just some petty crap. I guess people just really were hoping there would be some rivalry.”

You think for a moment, before saying. “Maybe we should keep this drama thing up. Might be fun.”

“It’s a lil too late for that,” Paige shakes her head with a slight smile. “remember how KK and Ice were on live yesterday at the coffee shop? Yeah, we kinda were in the background at some point. People saw us talking.”

“You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. There are edits and everything.”

You rest your head in your hands, elbows on the table, lessening the proximity between you and her. “I only get into these weird ass situations when I interact with you, Paige.”

She sits up in her seat, blue eyes quickly looking you up and down. “Yet you’re still here.”

“Girl’s gotta have fun.” You shrug. Her foot hits yours under the table, her eyebrow raised as if challenging you. You have a sudden thought of going under the table and letting your hands unzip her cargo pants, but instead you just kick her back.

“Wanna go?” She asks. You don’t want to go back to the hotel, and she seems to pick up on it. “The area we’re in is nice. We can walk around a bit.”

You smile and nod. “Split the bill?”

“Fuck no.” She shoots you a look, pulling out her credit card from the back of her phone.

“You cursed!” You exclaim, to which she scoffs.

“I said it’s alright in specific situations.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Well we’re not having sex, are we?”

The way her eyelashes flutter at your question gives you jitters. “Aight, stop talking.” She finally manages to respond. You just send her a look that you hope makes her nervous.

-

“You’re not funny.” She grumbles, attempting to grab your phone from you.

“Back off, Bueckers! I’m serious.” You laugh, sidestepping her with your phone above your head. The street was empty and the lights were on, putting the two of you in a yellow glow against the night. You’d been walking around the neighbourhood, observing houses and learning a bit about Storrs for the past hour.

“Give me your phone, I know you ain’t deleting those.” She huffs, grabbing for your phone. You try to escape her grasp but she’s got longer limbs, so eventually your phone is in her pocket and she’s wearing a proud look on her face.

It’s nice to walk in the quiet of evening, her beside you. You have no idea where you are but you can’t help but trust she can get you back to the car in no time. Not just yet though.

You turn to look at Paige almost shamelessly. There’s just so much to observe with her. Her confident posture, toothy smile, sleek straightened blonde hair, even the baggy cargo pants and sweater. She always looked good, it never failed to annoy you.

“Either your pants are too tight or crazy baggy.” You note. She just raises her eyebrow.

“Sounds like you just want me to take my pants off at this point.”

“Wouldn’t mind a little show.” You reply almost instantly, shocking yourself at the surge of confidence. She doesn’t seem taken aback, in fact she’s intrigued.

“Is that your usual routine? Have a meal out then have a meal at home?”

“Maybe it is.” You shrug. “I never object to a wine n dine.”

“And what exactly would you object to?”

“Cocky girls who think they’re the shit.” You say, turning your head to face her. You don’t mean to target her, but she simply smiles.

“Is it really being cocky if I can back it up though?” Paige asks quietly. You’re not walking anymore, stuck in place on an empty path between buildings. She’s closing in on you until your back hits a brick wall. The way Paige is staring down at you, hands in her pockets, lip between her teeth. It’s nothing you’d object to, ever.

“I won’t believe it till I see it.” You mutter, holding her eye. The air is tense in a new way that you haven’t felt with her since you first met in the bar. Her face is entrancing.

Paige’s hands lift your jaw upwards, and she leans into your ear. “You might not see it,” she mumbles, breath hot against your skin. “But you’ll definitely feel it.”

When she pulls back from your ear she stays hovering just above you, hands chastely holding your head up. You’re in the perfect position to kiss, and you can’t stop your eyes from darting between her electric stare to her lush, pink lips.

You can literally feel her breath on your mouth when a piercing ring cuts through the moment. It’s coming from her pocket, and she pulls out your phone. Paige’s face twists as she reads the screen. “It’s Elaine.”

“Just- just decline it.” You rush out, not caring how desperate you sound. You can feel how wet you are, and the lack of heat against you is blaring.

“She texted you too.” Paige scoffs. “She’s waiting for you at your hotel.”

You don’t even know what to say. Paige’s face is expressionless. You’re disappointed, but there’s no point in begging. Nothing really happened.

“Let’s get you home.” She says, starting to walk back from where you came. “Shouldn’t keep her waiting.” Her tone is dripping with toxicity. It makes you shiver.

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