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#she wants the perfect gift for her boy
hxzbinwrites · 2 months
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Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD
Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles
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Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.
"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.
"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.
"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.
"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."
"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"
"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."
Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.
--------
"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"
Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.
He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.
"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.
"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.
"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?
"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."
"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.
"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"
"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.
"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"
Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"
"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"
"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"
"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.
"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.
She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.
(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.
But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.
Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.
She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.
"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"
"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.
Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.
The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.
The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.
This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.
The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.
“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.
“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.
“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”
Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.
(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.
Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.
Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.
Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”
(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!
Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?
(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.
“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.
————
Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.
He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”
Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.
He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.
Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.
“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”
Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.
“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”
Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.
————
Word Count 1,524
6K notes · View notes
mechamedusa · 11 months
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high for this — happy bday bkg !
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— bakugou x kirishima x fem!reader
‘“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”
His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him.’
☆ WORD COUNT | 12.2K
☆ SYNOPSIS | Bakugou shares a birthday with weed but he’s never smoked it before. He’s also never fucked you and Kirishima at the same time before. A birthday 2-for-1 special!
☆ CONTAINS | [+18!] quirkless/college au, drug use (weed), alcohol mention, dubcon due to the previous, bi threesome (emphasis on the bi), oral for everyone, double blowjob, spit!!!, facefucking, degradation + degrading names, praise, voyeurism, size kink, frotting, a lot of cum, anal play/rimming, anal sex, piv sex, daisy chain, some roughness, creampie, cum eating, squirting, kiri + bkg interact a lot, some softdom!kiri but switchy behavior all around, kinda imperfect poly dynamics, reader referred to as “girl” + she/her + has hair long enough to be pulled back, bkg gets slutted out ~
☆ NOTES | i know — i know ! this is very late. i hope i make up for it with the fact that this is basically all filth. there are non-monogamous dynamics here that are nuanced and a little messy, possibly confusing… but it’s not really the focus, it’s mostly just a lot of sexy fun. so i hope it’s still enjoyable! happy belated bday to the great explosion murder god himself ♡
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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“Come on, just one hit won’t kill you.”
White smoke curls up around your lips like tantalizing little vines, snaking through the air until it dissipates into the growing fog in your living room. You’re leaned in close on the couch, joint perched between your fingers and mischief mixing with the hazy look on your face.
Bakugou scoffs at you, but it’s softened by the few too many drinks you and his friends had pushed on him earlier in the night. And his ever-growing affection for you.
“Oh don’t pressure him,” Kirishima pipes up from behind the couch, big hand coming down on Bakugou’s shoulder and squeezing, “he’s the birthday boy, he can do what he wants.”
You pout up at the redhead. “That’s exactly why he should hit it.”
Normally, Bakugou would snap at you to stop fuckin’ talkin’ about him like he’s not here, something you both have become far too comfortable doing, but his sharp tongue seems to smooth out a bit when he’s alone with the two of you. Plus, he’s in a good mood. 
The day was… great, to say the least. Not too much of a fuss. Just drinks at a low-key bar nearby, and gifts that weren’t extravagant enough to make Bakugou feel awkward. And you and Kirishima had helped get him out of there before Kaminari and Mina could corral everyone into hitting up a strip club, or whatever other ridiculous shit their drunk minds could think up. Honestly, his birthday had been perfect. Not that he’d tell you both that. But he knows he doesn’t need to.
You rise up on your knees, bringing the joint to Kirishima’s lips to let him puff at it. You’re both crowded around him, Kiri’s broad chest brushing against the back of his head, and your cleavage so close to his cheek that he could turn his face and be buried in it. He watches you in his peripheral, tits bouncing lightly as you giggle when Kiri coughs and retreats towards the kitchen for water. When you lower back down into the couch, you’re giving him a knowing look, and he fights the urge to reach out and squish your cheeks in his hand.
You infuriate him, in your own awful, annoying, endearing way — you always have, ever since Kirishima first brought you into their lives. Somehow that has led him here, unimaginably comfortable splayed out on this couch in yours and Kirishima’s shared apartment – an apartment he, admittedly, spends more time in than his own.
Leaning forward over the coffee table to tap the ash off the joint, you continue your devious nagging. “You share a birthday with weed and you’ve never even tried it. It’s unnatural.”
“Weed does not have a fuckin’ birthday,” he grunts, watching your glossy lips wrap around the thin stick once more. “And Kirishima’s hair is unnatural, you don’t seem to give a shit about that.”
You press on, ignoring the quip. “Uhh weed does have a birthday. And you’re twins. Happy birthday to you both.”
Bakugou snorts, waves away the smoke that swirls up between you, “That shit’s makin’ you sound even dumber than usual.”
“Well it’s making you look less ugly than usual.”
“Ugly, huh? Guess weed turns you into a dummy and a liar.”
Chips and water bottles plop down on the coffee table, interrupting your playful squabbling as Kirishima re-enters the room.
“You don’t gotta do it if you’re scared, bro. I get it, I was super nervous when I first smoked.”
Bakugou scowls over at his friend where he’s settling in on the other side of him. “‘M not scared.”
“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”
His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him. 
The unspoken suggestion isn’t entirely out of left field. The nature of your triangular relationship is… confusing. More than platonic, less than romantically committed — at least where Bakugou is concerned. But what isn’t confusing is the fact that he already knows both of your bodies intimately, and you his. (Kirishima even more so than you.) 
But he hasn’t known them both at the same time — a fact that has been looming over all three of you for months now.
Apparently you and Kiri have decided that today would be the day. A birthday present for the hot-head you’ve absorbed into your relationship. 
Or maybe you were absorbed into his and Kirishima’s? 
The details are muddled static in Bakugou’s brain, his nerves making his mind race as you both watch him expectantly.
“Bro, you really don’t have to if you don’t—“
He’s cut off by an exasperated growl. “If I hit it, will you both shut up?”
Kiri grins, and the corners of your mouth twitch up, bringing the the joint back into view.
He plucks it from your hand, grumbling that he can do it himself as he brings the papery tip to his lips. Kirishima’s good-natured warnings about not hitting it too hard fall on deaf ears as Bakugou breathes in deep… and immediately sputters a cough into the crook of his arm. You snort and take the offending stick back, Kiri opening a water bottle and handing it over with mumbles of something just a bit nicer than “I told ya so”.
When the coughing fit dies down, there’s a heaviness settled over him, like invisible weights strapped to each of his limbs. His chest burns, and his head is foggy, and Bakugou isn’t sure he really likes the feeling — but then Kiri’s thigh presses against his as he relaxes further into the couch, and you run your hand over his bicep while you ask if he’s ok, and every little touch makes his whole body tingle. And Bakugou… finally gets why people like this shit.
You giggle, and he realizes he’s said that last bit out loud. “See, feels nice, right?”
Time seems to start dragging on a bit slower as the high really settles into his bones, and he feels somehow both profoundly relaxed, and buzzing right down to his nerve-endings all at once. You continue puffing away at the joint, absentmindedly playing with Bakugou’s hair as Kiri puts something on the tv before turning and gesturing for you to pass the weed over. Shaking your head at your boyfriend, you instead beckon him towards you with a crook of your finger. A saucy little “c’mere…” reeling him in closer as you take another big drag from the joint.
The both of you lean over the blonde’s lap, faces coming together just inches in front of his. Bakugou is hyper-focused on the sliver of space between your lips — the way yours purse to blow a slow stream of milky smoke, and Kiri’s fall open to accept your gift. So close, a simple swipe of tongue could connect you. It’s an intimate exchange, thick with a sensuality that Bakugou swears is coating his throat and making it hard to swallow. 
It feels like ages before the two of you finally pull away, and his eyes follow Kirishima as he settles back on his right. Red brows raise at him curiously, chest puffing out as he inhales the smoke a bit deeper. Bakugou is staring, he knows he is. He can’t help it. His friend has always been easy on the eyes — pretty, even. Although, if he ever told him that, he knows he’d chuckle nervously and deny it. So he just stares silently, and thinks it. But Kirishima has an uncanny way of reading his thoughts, better than anyone else in his life.
And this time is no different, amusement pulling up the corners of Kiri’s mouth, boldness guiding his calloused hand to the back of the blonde’s neck as he leans in. There’s a split second of confusion, Bakugou’s mind wading through the molasses of his high to try and catch up with what’s going on, but then Kiri is blowing the smoke still in his lungs right into the space between his lips.
From you, to Kirishima, to him. A link of breaths, an unconventional chain made up of musky smoke and sighs and things unspoken. It tastes nice on Bakugou’s tongue. It doesn’t burn his chest like his first hit did. It’s been cooled in the exchange, the harsh bite of it taken away with each pass from mouth to mouth, leaving him with something light and comfortable and warm.
Bakugou wonders if he deserves that.
Kirishima’s lips brush softly against his. Silent reassurance that he does.
And then, as things tend to do when you’re high and horny, one thing simply leads to another. It’s a whirlwind of kisses and wandering hands, and then the kisses become deeper, bleeding into each other, and the hands wander further, their touch melting together. And Bakugou ends up turned around to face you with Kirishima at his back.
Your tongue in his mouth is familiar, and yet entirely new, and in this state the contrast between kissing you and his best friend becomes even more obvious. While the man behind him feels rugged against his skin, he always kisses gingerly at first, maneuvering slowly, tenderly, like he’s savoring it. Like he’s handling something delicate and skittish. 
You, on the other hand, have lips like velvet, skin supple and smooth where he cradles your face. But you suck harshly and nip at him, pull at his bottom lip with your teeth and smile devilishly when he hisses. 
Where Kirishima is hard, you’re soft – and where you’re rough, he’s gentle. 
You’re halfway onto Bakugou’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and raised up on your knees so he has to tilt his head up to you. Holding his face in your hands, you lick eagerly into his mouth, suck at his tongue when you feel it slide against yours. That pulls a soft groan from his chest, and his hips grind just a bit against your thigh, giving you a preview of his desire in the form of a poke.
One of your hands trails down the side of his neck, over the muscular slope of his chest and the firm valley of his stomach until it’s found its target on the inside of his thigh. Bakugou can’t help but moan when you press your palm into his cock where it’s currently throbbing against him, trapped uncomfortably in the leg of his jeans. 
“So hard already,” you murmur against Bakugou’s mouth as you rub your hand up and down his length. 
“He’s been hard since we started smoking,” Kiri chimes in between wet kisses to his neck.
Bakugou glares back with a lighthearted huff. “Always starin’ at my fuckin’ dick, Red.”
A low chuckle. “Yeah? Am I in trouble?”
“You fuckin’— agh!”
Kirishima bites down on his shoulder, just hard enough to make the blonde’s mouth fall open, and you seize your chance to swallow the sound.
It would be embarrassing, how well the pair of you are currently playing Bakugou like a tuned-up instrument, but the weed has his mind so fogged that all he can feel is the pleasurable heat simmering in his veins. The plushness of your skin in his palms as he runs them over your waist, and the firmness of his childhood friend’s well-built body against his back, and both of your hands and mouths all over him all at once — it’s more than he can handle. So he just lets himself lean further into Kirishima’s familiar hold and watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you pull his shirt over his head and start working his jeans down his legs.
“Gonna let us take care of you, right, birthday boy?” Your voice is a siren song in his ear, gravelly from the smoke you’d inhaled, pitched down with temptation. The snarky comment you’d usually receive in return is lost to a pleasured little nnghh when you lower yourself down and press your warm mouth to his cock through his briefs, flick your tongue out to taste the growing wet spot on the fabric. Then you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband, watching gleefully when you free the rigid length from its confines and it bobs up to hit his toned stomach with a slap. 
All the while Kirishima’s calloused hands explore, tender in their travels, ghosting over scars and squeezing lovingly at the spots that make him crazy (his waist, his pecs, the inner part of his thighs). He hooks his chin over the blonde’s shoulder and licks his lips hungrily at the sight of his cock, which is jumping in frustration as you kiss teasingly over his thighs. 
It’s flushed a heated pink at the tip and oozing dews of precum that are simply too pretty to ignore, so Kiri dips his finger in it, spreads the sticky substance around the head to make it shine before raising his hand back up and watching a thick, clear thread stretch before snapping. 
“Bein’ so good for us,” Kiri murmurs under his breath, a secret for them to share, and brings his finger to his own mouth to taste the salty arousal on it. He rubs the mix of saliva and pre over Bakugou’s nipple, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. “Let us know if this is too much, ok?” 
And it is too much, but not in a way that’s unpleasant. So Bakugou responds with only a shuddered breath and his head falling back on the redhead’s shoulder, heavy with his high and the creeping heat of pleasure as you finally drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. He lets the bigger man turn his face to the side with a gentle hand, slots his mouth with his in a slow, hungry kiss.
He’s pulsing against your tongue, impossibly hard and aching for the feel of your mouth, and still you take your time. Licking coyly around the head, letting it leak right onto your tastebuds. Bakugou finally finds his voice again to curse down at you, and it comes out hoarse, whinier than you’ve ever heard him. 
“Stop bein’ such a damn cock tease.”
You chuckle, but relent, abandoning your teasing to finally sink your lips down on him. It lights Bakugou on fire, his toes curling and nails digging into Kiri’s forearms where they’re wrapped around his torso. So sensitive. You bob your head up and down slowly at first, then faster, slurping and sucking until you’ve gotten it nice and sloppy – which is when Kiri’s hands come to gather your hair out of your face, holding it all back in one fist and using the other to grip Bakugou’s dick tightly, stroke him right into your mouth. 
You moan approvingly at the addition of your boyfriend’s hand, a sweet little mmnnn that rings out from your throat and vibrates down Bakugou’s length right to his very core. The sound joins the noisy schlickschlick of Kirishima pumping his hand up and down, the movements practiced and effortless as he grips and twists, squeezing more and more precum from the tip for you to eagerly swallow. You stick your tongue out, let Kiri slap the head against it with a cheeky smile spreading your lips and exposing your teeth, far too pleased with the way Bakugou is trying his best to stifle his own moans and keep his hips from rolling.
Wrapping your lips back around the thick cock being jerked off in your face, you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, making your shared victim curse brokenly. You and Kiri exchange a conspiratory look, and then he’s grinning sleepily down at you.
“How’s his cock taste, pretty girl?”
Your lashes flutter and you make a sound that could be “so good” if it wasn’t completely muffled by skin, refusing to pop it back out of your mouth for even a moment to answer. Your boyfriend chuckles, feeling his own cock stir at watching the enthusiastic way in which you suck someone else’s – but his own needs can wait.
“Need some help down there?”
An earnest nod from you, and then Kirishima is shifting carefully from behind the near boneless body in front of him, sinking down onto his knees beside you to properly assist in servicing the birthday boy.
You continue sucking while keeping your gaze on Kiri, now close enough that you can make out the inky dilation of his pupils, the lustful flush on his cheeks. And he watches you, enamored, hypnotized by your fuck-me eyes and the way your lips pout and your cheeks hollow — his sweet little girlfriend with a nasty little mouth. 
“Y’look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he muses, and saliva pools in his own when you hum your appreciation and trace your lips down the side of Bakugou’s shaft, giving him access to the other side. He leans in, licks up a pulsating vein with a groan. The taste is distinctly Bakugou, heady and musky and manly. And it’s distinctly you, sweet like those drinks you order, light like your flavored gloss. He goes back for another taste, and then your tongues are dancing in unison over Bakugou’s dick.
“Jesus fuck, that’s so— fuckin’ good—“ Bakugou’s words are clipped and strained as you both slather his dick with your spit. Up and down, up and down the length of him, until you’re meeting at the top and tangling together in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss around the head.
It’s messy, uncoordinated, drool coating both of your lips and smearing across chins and cheeks. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the air as you make out with a dick wedged between you. It’s a sight Bakugou had never known he needed to see, but now he’s watching intently, jaw slack and lids heavy, wanting to burn the image into his memory. If his brain wasn’t so scrambled he’d pull out his phone and hit record, keep the moment in his pocket for him to fuck his fist to later.
Wrapped up in the kiss, you both pull away, your hand finding the blonde’s cock to stroke it as you continue exploring Kiri’s mouth. The twist and pull of your palm is slippery, but not slippery enough, so you break the kiss and stick your tongue out. And Kirishima understands exactly what you want, making a show of placing his big hands on either side of your face and tilting it up for him, pressing his lips together and letting spit flow freely down onto your waiting tongue. You turn with a glint in your eye, letting his saliva mix with your own behind your lips before spitting it all out to coat Bakugou’s dick.
A thought flits through his mind about the three-way hit from earlier, but it fizzles out as soon as you suck him sloppily back into your mouth. “Awh, fuck–” 
And then Kiri’s tongue is lapping at his balls, and Bakugou’s head sinks back on the couch cushions. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“
He feels like jelly, melting right into both of your hungry mouths. Nothing but the sensation of slick lips and warm tongues, and silky spit rolling down his balls and seeping between his thighs. You and Kiri are switching back and forth, sharing him between you like it’s an everyday couple’s activity, one you’re both especially passionate about doing together. It’s insane — you’re both insane, hell-bent on turning him into a puddle right there on your living room couch.
And Bakugou is a puddle, splayed out on the cushions, panting with his head thrown back and his arms crossed over his face, just lost in it. Until Kirishima suddenly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh.
“Agh—!”
Bakugou’s hips jerk involuntarily at the bite, ramming his cock up into your throat as his gaze is forced back to you both kneeled before him. The sound of you gagging stirs Kiri on, and he places a big hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place before delivering another, harsher bite to his friend’s thigh. Another buck of the blonde’s hips and your eyes begin to water. But you look up at him, and through the sparkle of your wet lashes is an expression completely glazed over with lust.
Bakugou sneers down at you, suddenly stirred on just like Kiri. “Y’like that shit?” You don’t have to respond (not that you can, with his girth filling out your mouth), he knows very well how much you do. “Here, take it then.”
And then there are two more hands holding you down, steady against the back of your head to make sure you can’t move away as Bakugou rolls his hips up towards your face. 
“Stick your tongue out, like that, yeah–” 
You obey, and he grunts his approval as he fucks your mouth like it’s nothing more than a warm, wet toy. It’s slow, lazy, but hard and invasive, cock dragging back and forth along your tongue, pumping precum so deep it feels like you might choke on it. Your throat spasms and aches as it takes the sudden beating from his cock head prodding at it, a copious amount of drool filling your mouth as your body’s natural attempt at lubricating. It bubbles around your lips, drips down in thick globs onto his lap. 
And that’s what Bakugou wanted, really, the mess – to see the way tears roll down your cheeks and spit smears on your lips, the way you seem to go perfectly dumb for his dick. It’s cute, honestly, and he can’t help but tell you so, filth tumbling from his mouth as he uses yours to get off.
“So fuckin’ cute,” he says between ragged breaths, “so cute when you’re chokin’ on me. Fuck, yeah, keep that mouth open–”
You’re doing your best to breathe through your nose, taking the rough treatment while trying not to drown in your own spit, when Bakugou suddenly stills his hips and gives your head a hard push down.
“All the way down, like a good little slut,” he grunts, angling his hips up to try and invade your esophagus, feel how tight it is around his aching cock. There’s still so much of him your mouth can’t fit, and you gag hard, instinctually trying to pull off. But you’re met with the resistance of not two, but three strong hands.
Kirishima pushes gently, but firmly, at the back of your neck, coaxing you to take his best friend’s cock further down your throat with coos of encouragement. “There ya go baby,” his voice is husky and dark in your ear, eyes blown and pink-tinged as he watches more of Bakugou’s length disappear past your swollen lips, “be a good girl and swallow that dick.” 
And then something in your throat gives, and your eyes roll back in your head as your lips finally meet a sticky pelvis, nose nuzzling into a dewy nest of dirty-blonde pubes. 
“Ugh– there it is, fuck yeah–” Bakugou groans, deep and guttural as he pumps shallowly up into your throat, the visible bulge in your neck making Kirishima echo him with a lewd groan of his own. The only sounds you can muster are gurgles – besides the obscene wet gluckgluckglucks of your throat being relentlessly fucked, but you can hardly claim that you are the one making those sounds ring out.
You’re finally set free, hands releasing you to shoot back up and gasp for air. You cough and sputter, a hazy smile curling your wet lips up once you’ve caught your breath, and you peer up at Bakugou, who returns your smile with a satisfied smirk of his own. But the cocky expression is quickly wiped off his face when Kiri takes him in his hand and replaces your throat with his own, descending on him with an ease that makes the blonde’s face contort.
Crawling up onto the couch, you smooth your hand down Bakugou’s chest. He looks positively ravaged; Lips reddened from where he keeps pulling them between his teeth, face and chest flushed pink and shining with a light sheen of sweat, honeyed hair mussed by his hands continuously running through it. And his eyes, usually piercing and fiery, have lost their heat. They’re glazed over, glowing with his high and swimming with pleasure.
He’s gorgeous like this, you think, picturesque in his wreckage, and you can’t look away — not when his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, not when his hands reach out and tangle in red locs, not when his gaze finally lifts back to you and he tilts his chin up to silently ask for a kiss. You give it to him, of course — it is his birthday, after all — but then you can’t help but nose against his cheek and tease him just a bit.
“And to think, you weren’t gonna smoke with us.”
He grits his teeth into a semblance of a smile, lids heavy as he looks up at you through thick, blonde lashes. “I like ya better with my—hahh— my cock in your throat. Talk a lot less that way.” Another moan seeps from between his lips, eyes darting to watch Kirishima suck at his balls before returning to you. He reaches out, fists impatiently at the hem of your top. “Take this shit off an’ come sit on my face.”
There’s a slick pop and then Kiri is rising to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you both a toothy grin. He suggests you all move into the bedroom, squeezing the obvious outline of his hard cock in his pants as he does so, and you’re being scooped up into Bakugou’s strong arms before you can reply.
He pads down the hallway with your legs hugged around his tapered waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. Hands grope roughly at your ass as he carries you easily — which is surprising only because he’s not looking where he’s going, too preoccupied with tasting himself on your tongue.
You’re deposited onto the bed with an oomph, bouncing against the mattress where you’re unceremoniously thrown. You look up to see Bakugou completely naked, cut body glistening in the dim light and cock bobbing heavy between his legs. He’s staring back down at you hungrily, like an animal that’s caught its prey, that sharp look in his carmine eyes back out to play – and you’re suddenly reminded of the incessant throbbing between your legs. 
“I said,” he grips the buttons of your pants, pulls them roughly down your legs as if their presence offends him, “take this shit off.”
You’re stripped and straddling the birthday boy’s face before Kirishima is even back in the room. And when he does return he’s got what’s left of the joint re-lit and held between his lips, water and towels cradled in his arms. He stops in his tracks when he sees the position you two are in; You, with your thighs encasing Bakugou’s head, bent forward and draped over him so your face is right over that pretty cock. And Bakugou, splayed out underneath you, one leg bent and propped up, dick still shining with the evidence of the treatment it had gotten earlier. It’s throbbing and jumping as you grind down onto his face, your lips formed into a cute little ‘o’ as he slurps loudly, shamelessly at your cunt.
Your eyes flutter open when you hear the light crackle of Kiri puffing on the joint, finding him leaned against the door jam, so big he fills up the doorway and his hair brushes against the top of the frame. He’s watching, ruby eyes glittering, taking another lazy drag and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. His sexiness is effortless, easy, like it's built right into that sturdy foundation of his – and the sight of him enjoying the sight of you goes straight to your pussy, sends a wave of arousal leaking from your slit and right onto Bakugou’s lips.
You mewl, and Kiri’s eyes wander down your connected bodies, palming at his cock through his pants as he takes you both in. “How’s he doin’, baby girl?”
“Mmnn… good. But he’s so impatient.”
A heavy hand comes down on your ass, squeezing the sting away, and a disapproving grunt vibrates against your clit. Much like you, Bakugou won’t unlatch from you to say what he wants – instead, he’ll scrunch his face up and let your core absorb his words. You imagine it’s something like “shut the hell up” or “it’s my birthday, you fucks” and you let out a snicker, which unravels into a squeak when you get another swat to your ass.
You straighten up and reach out to Kiri, wanting him closer. And he comes easily, tapping out the joint and setting down what he’d brought along, pulling his shirt over his head. He kneels on the bed, and dips his face down to drink up the little sounds spilling from your mouth.
Your fingers trail down the hard ridges of Kiri’s chest as the tip of Bakugou’s tongue trails up your slit. You keep feeling him, feeling the way his broad chest expands with each breath, the way his toned stomach tenses under your touch. He’s so big, muscular in a way that’s so different from the body underneath you; Where Bakugou is cut and rigid, Kirishima is thick, almost soft, the kind of muscle you can sink your fingers into. And you do, squeezing at him, earning happy little sighs breathed onto your mouth, your jaw, the side of your neck.
You’re kissing each other slowly, deeply, and the moment is sweet, yet so nasty — punctuated by the wet sounds of a tongue swirling around your clit. 
Kirishima curses when your hand finally presses against his cock, so hot with neglect that you can feel the warmth through the thick fabric of his pants. You smile against his mouth. “You like watching us, Red?”
His nose nuzzles against yours, panting as you rub harder into him. “Shit… yeah, I do.” A deep, shuddering breath. “A lot.”
“You like sucking dick a lot, too.”
It’s not a question, but Kiri bites at his lip and answers anyway.
“Yeah, I do.” 
You whine, heat crackling in your belly from both the admittance, and the harsh suck to your clit. Kiri adds on with a chuckle, “might like watching you do it more, though.”
Your fingers hook into his waistband and pull his hips forward. “Wanna watch me suck yours now?”
“Thought we were taking care of the birthday boy.”
You bat your lashes, and Kiri truly wants nothing more than to see your eyes water again. 
“I can take care of you both at the same time.”
“Fuck…”
He’s back off the bed and pushing his pants down his thighs without any further discussion, cock bouncing and bending under its own weight as he moves to position himself between Bakugou’s legs. There’s a surprised mmph from underneath you when his knees are pushed open wider to accommodate the larger man, but it tapers off into a low groan when he feels the heaviness of Kirishima’s hard cock slapping down onto his own.
Bending forward at the waist, you grip Kiri’s cock in your hand, so thick that your fingers struggle to connect around its girth, throbbing so hard it seems to grow even bigger in your hold. He watches you with dark eyes as you drag your tongue up the thick vein on the underside, breathes a little “so pretty” when you look back up at him. 
You flick your tongue teasingly at the tip and pull back so the sticky fluid of his arousal connects you for just a moment, before you wrap your lips around it to suck the rest off. He’s salty, musky, hot and heavy — adding to the growing cocktail of sin filling your senses and making your head spin.
You’re quick to try taking him all the way in your mouth, egged on by your own arousal, and gag hard when he hits the back of your throat. Kiri groans, tucking your hair out of your face gently as he keeps himself from snapping his hips forward and forcing his cock all the way in, despite how he knows you wouldn’t mind – despite how badly he wants to. Instead he watches you strain to fit him in your mouth, the way your lips stretch around him and your cheeks fill out with his girth. It’s almost better than forcing it – watching you work so hard to do it yourself. 
You bob and slurp, use your hand to stimulate what won’t fit in your mouth. And more and more drool collects around his cock, pools in your fist and drips slowly down onto Bakugou’s dick underneath it. 
“Ohhh shit, yeah–” the man above you pants, strokes sweetly at your cheek, “get it nice an’ wet…”
Holding him tightly in your fist, you dip your head down to lick up the spit that’s landed on the blonde’s milky skin, earning a desperate roll of his narrow hips. You wrap your lips around him next, let the redhead jerk his cock over your face while he watches – the way you know he loves to do – before switching back. You keep working like that, going back and forth from cock to cock, sucking Bakugou eagerly into your mouth and then letting Kiri guide you back with a gentle hold on your chin.
All the while, you’re giving Bakugou a view to rival the double blowjob – your cunt spread and bent over in his face, skin so wet and soft it’s like satin, pretty hole leaking endlessly down onto his tongue. He’s shameless, the way he digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, uses rough thumbs to pull your pussy lips apart before spitting right into it. He flattens his tongue, catches the drip and tastes you from clit to slit, then buries it in that little hole, spearing you on it like a man out to kill. You squeak, try to wriggle away, but he hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you back down with a growl of “don’t you fuckin’ move” before diving back in.
The way he fucks you on his tongue is for him, really, not for you – but even so, the way the muscle stretches you out, swirls and flicks inside you as it tries desperately to push deeper, to taste deeper, it feels so nasty. So good. You arch your back, moan around Kiri’s cock about how good his tongue feels, and Bakugou just smirks against your cunt. Pleased with himself. He knows it’s fuckin’ good — he knows how to make you squirm.
He runs a thumb through your folds, wets it with the mixture of your slick and his spit, before circling it into your clit. It’s swollen, throbbing under the pad of his thumb, and your walls tighten, gush more bittersweet juice for him to drink up.
Kiri’s dick pops out of your mouth as you’re overtaken by the sudden swell of pleasure, and you cry out a shrill warning.
“Fuckfuck, Katsuki, if you keep doing that–”
“Do it,” he says, gruff and demanding, “fuckin’ give it to me.”
So Kirishima takes over in your mission of taking care of them both — presses his sticky cock up against Bakugou’s and fists them both together to the sight of you losing yourself. You’re bracing yourself with both hands on Bakugou’s stomach, tits pushed together so pretty between your arms, eyes rolling shut and mouth falling open on a moan. 
Kirishima is slack-jawed as he watches you buck and grind, fucking yourself back on his friend’s tongue. So beautiful chasing your own high. His fist is slipping quickly over both their cocks, squeezing them together tightly, rutting his hips and sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both. 
“Fuck, Ei, s-slow the fuck down” — is what Bakugou tries to say, but it comes out garbled, slurred into your skin. He’s so sensitive, and everything is so wet. Your pussy dripping, his chin slippery, his dick and Kirishima’s sliding over each other and squelching lewdly. And you’re all in his senses, coating his tongue, filling his every breath, singing like an angel as you tell him you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum right on his face —
So his hips jerk, and his voice strains in his throat, and he shoots his load hard, all up his stomach and onto his chest and between Kiri’s fingers. It just keeps coming, makes a mess of his torso and collects in Kirishima’s hand, coats both their cocks in milky white that he keeps pumping up and down the length of them.
And the sight is so messy, so filthy, both cocks sliding against each other, frothing with a gooey mixture of pre, spit, and cum. It makes that swelling wave of heat in your core grow bigger, bigger still — and Kirishima sees it on your face, whines as he overstimulates Bakugou and brings himself closer to the edge, encouraging you to “let it go, baby— there ya go, cum right on his tongue—” 
And then the wave is suddenly crashing, white-hot and roaring in your ears. 
You’re trembling, crying out, grinding down on Bakugou’s tongue, which he now has outstretched for you, hands digging desperately into your hips as he bucks into Kirishima’s fist – still, somehow, able to keep his composure enough to help you ride out your orgasm. Lightning is shooting up his spine, making him twitch and moan, but your release washing over his tongue may as well be the god damn elixir of life. He can see your pussy clenching, see it leaking liquid gold right onto his face, and it tastes like paradise in his mouth. He’s focused on slurping it up, making you scream and gyrate as pleasure wracks your body like something violent and unforgiving.
And, like some sort of carnal chemical reaction, Kiri grabs hold of your face, moans a strained “cumming— oh shit i’m cumming—!” into your mouth as he follows you both over the edge. He bucks once, twice in his fist and then his balls are tightening where they’re sliding against the other man’s, and he’s spilling over, thick and hot into his hand. 
It mixes with Bakugou’s cum, almost indiscernible from it as ropes shoot up and land on his stomach. But it’s thicker, heavier, it doesn’t reach all the way up to his collarbones. And there’s more of it, so much more that it splatters the smaller man with white, pools in the deep grooves of his abs and sticks there.
You’re all panting hard when you finally roll over and collapse into the sheets. It’s hot, stiflingly so, sweat collecting in the crease of your thighs – or is that your own cum? 
The boys breathe deep next to you, Kirishima sat on his knees, Bakugou with his arms up over his face. It’s silent for a moment, besides the sounds of you all gasping, and the hammering in your own chest.
You let your head roll to the side, checking that your partners are still alive, and are met with the sight of Bakugou’s torso absolutely painted with white. 
A stunned exhale. “Holy shit…”
Kiri’s eyes slide to you, dazed. “You ok?”
“Yeah, that is just… so much cum. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much cum before. It’s like, cartoonish.”
There’s a choking sound – a snort – and then Bakugou is laughing, big and boisterous, mouth wide and teeth bared. It fills the room like fireworks, so bright it lights up yours and Kiri’s faces too. 
“Stop laughing,” Kirishima chuckles, clean hand forming a cup by Bakugou’s side to catch the cum currently sliding down it, “it’s gonna get on the sheets.”
“Well then gimme a fuckin’ towel, dumbass.”
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The smell of sex and smoke hangs heavy in the air. It sticks to your skin, makes you feel tacky as you shift in the bedsheets. You reach out to take the joint (well, the burnt nub that’s left) from between Kiri’s fingers, puffing on it gingerly before blowing some into Bakugou’s mouth. He’s decided he likes it better that way – straight from your or Kirishima’s lungs.
“Doesn’t burn so damn much,” he’d grumbled when he’d asked you to do it for him. You’d rolled your eyes, but leaned in to give him some of your breath anyways. 
You’re all still half naked, you in one of Kiri’s t-shirts and the boys both in briefs. Laid out on soiled sheets as a thin haze fills the room, basking in the humid afterglow of your orgasms. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the three of you together, but you feel so profoundly comfortable that you find yourself sighing deeply and smiling up towards the ceiling. 
“What?” Bakugou eyes you from where he lies beside you, noticing the little quirk of your lips – which he often does, notices your little tells.
“Nothing, just high. And happy.” You roll onto your side, passing the joint back to Kiri as you prop your head up in your hand, “is that a crime?”
“The first one is in a lot of places, yeah. Maybe I’ll call the cops on ya. Turn your ass in.”
You push playfully at Bakugou’s chest, and he catches your wrist in his hand with a wolfish grin, holding you there against him. 
You jut your chin out at him defiantly. “Eiji’ll bail me out.”
Bakugou glances down to where the redhead is laid across the foot of the bed, his head resting on the blonde’s thigh with a hand behind his neck. Your gaze follows when your boyfriend stays silent for a beat too long, mouth falling open with an incredulous call of “Babe?” 
Kirishima blows smoke up into the air with a sigh, drags out his words like they’re hard to say. “Yeah, I would.”
“Tch. So fuckin’ soft for this brat.”
Leaning your weight on Bakugou’s chest, you lift yourself up over him to gloat – like a brat. “Jealousy’s really ugly on you, Kats–”
The room blurs as he flips you over, appearing on top of you in a second with a snarl. You kick your legs as he slots himself between them, giggling and beating at his chest with your fists – which he intercepts easily, gathering your wrists in one hand to pin over your head. 
“Y’talk a lotta shit for someone so weak.”
Fingers dig roughly into your sides, making you yelp and squirm against his weight, which is pressed down onto you, keeping you firmly in place. “Go ahead, brat – talk your shit.” He forces more gasps of laughter from you with a twisted grin, eyes on fire. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you, speak up!”
“Eiji, help me!”
And then, magically, the weight is lifted off of you. 
In a flash, Bakugou is laid out on his back, hands pinned by his head, held in place by two larger ones. He looks a lot like you just did, fighting and huffing – except he’s actually giving his captor some hell, Kirishima flexing and gritting his teeth as he holds him down on the bed.
It’s lighthearted, grunted laughter slipping out between heavy breaths. But it’s also intense, in the way two men wrestling just inherently is.
Locking limbs and bulging muscles, so much power packed into each strained movement and kept from exploding outward only by the strength of the other. Like two stags connected by twisted antlers, they’re opposing forces keeping them firmly in place. It gives you the impression that if you were to be wedged in between them, they’d crush you. And that… excites you.
Bakugou hooks his legs around Kiri’s waist with a biting smile, muscles tensing as he tries to twist and buck him off – and the bigger man falters, almost flips over, but slams the blonde back down with a smile of his own.
“Get off me you fuckin’ brute!”
A breathless laugh from Kirishima, red hair shaking loose around his face. “Oh I’m a brute?”
“Yeah!” One of Bakugou’s hands slips free and he claps it around the back of Kiri’s neck, pulling him down until their foreheads are knocking together. “You are.”
And then there’s a shift, the energy suddenly heavy. No longer playful, but thick and serious. Wanton.
They’re panting, naked chests pressed together, expanding in time with each other. Bakugou huffs, his eyes flickering down to Kiri’s mouth. There’s a moment of anticipation, suspended and buzzing in the air, heating up until it starts to boil.
“All that hair dye’s gone right to your fuckin’ brain.” Bakugou’s voice is low, breath puffing against parted lips. Kirishima’s nose slides against his. “Made you a damn animal.”
“Whatever you say.”
And then they’re meeting in the middle, mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Kiri’s face pressing down, Bakugou’s chin lifting to chase after that pressure. The redhead’s tongue darts out, asks for entry at the seam of his partner’s lips. And the blonde gives it willingly, passionately, answering with an eager tongue of his own.
They kiss like that for a moment, hot and heavy, pushing and pulling, exploring each other’s mouths like new lovers and not like ones who have been here many times before. Their skin glistens and muscles ripple, tangled so tightly in each other that it’s almost hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. And you can only watch, feeling like you shouldn’t be — like a voyeur.
And that seems to make your whole body hot.
It’s almost like you’re watching through a screen, a slab of glass fogged over by your high and the haze of smoke, and the thick steam that is your own desire — until suddenly that screen is punctured, a hand reaching out through the fog. 
Kirishima pulls you into their orbit gently, but with a strength that makes you feel comfortable, like you can lean all the way into it and not float away. His hand cradles the side of your neck, coaxes you to come closer and kiss him. His lips are already wet and swollen, and they taste slightly different — an added sweetness you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it too long, another hand is redirecting you down, Bakugou stealing your lips away.
Wet sounds and pleasured sighs trickle through the air, you and Bakugou locked together hungrily as Kiri litters kisses down the smaller man’s chest. He takes his time running his tongue over the skin, sucking at it, tasting the sweat there — gratuitously, selfishly, knowing Bakugou won’t hurry him along like he usually does. Not with you tugging at this scalp and moaning into his mouth.
Kirishima is not a selfish lover, not by any means, but he’s also not wholly an angel. So he takes what he can get when he can get it. And right now that means taking advantage of the time he has, descending slowly. Slipping Bakugou’s briefs down his legs and running his lips along the scattered freckles on the insides of his thighs and hips. He could stay just like this, ruby eyes cast up to watch you both indulge in each other, while he indulges in the body beneath him.
But then he gets a little too eager, pushing Bakugou’s legs open wide and breathing a small “fuck…” at the sight of his hole before dipping down to taste it.
Bakugou breaks the kiss, gaze dragged down by the slick feeling of a tongue between his cheeks. His mouth falls open, face feverish as his hand moves to cup his balls, kneading them softly and holding them out of the way to give Kiri better access.
Kirishima’s tongue snakes out, big and thick just like the rest of him, and runs achingly slow over the little ring of muscle. Around and around in deliberate, wet circles. Then he’s drooling down onto it just to lap it back up with a wide, flattened tongue. His eyes flicker down, taking in the wet mess he’s already made before he dips the tip in, stuffs as much of the muscle as he can into the tight hole with a hungry groan. 
It’s a different kind of intimacy, watching them like this, and it fills your face with warmth and drips down your spine. Has your hand traveling absentmindedly between your legs to satiate the ache that’s returned there. The way Bakugou’s head falls back on the mattress, the way Kiri looks up at him with eyes that are both soft and yet sharply calculating — it’s different. You’ve never seen them like this, the way they were together far before you were ever in the mix, at least not at this level of vulnerability. And maybe it should make you feel jealous, or unsure of your place, but, truthfully, all you feel is a burning, unmitigated need.
You almost forget that you’re even there — physically there — until a big hand is cupping one of your tits, an arm hooking behind your back and pulling you close again. Propped up now on his elbow, Bakugou twists his body to peck at the side of your breast and squeeze the other in his palm. He laves his tongue over it, scrapes his teeth along it with a pant before sucking a bruise into the skin. His face is hot where it buries into you, his breath even hotter where it huffs out against the new, wet bloom of red. He looks up at you through heavy lids, brows pinching as Kiri licks sloppily at his fingers and pushes two in.
“Just gonna watch, y’little perv?”
You raise your brows at him, swipe your tongue over your lips. “Maybe– unless you’d like me to do something else.”
He nods down, towards where his cock sits oozing fresh precum onto his abdomen. “Come sit on it.”
You want to, your body’s aching for it, walls clenching at the thought of it stretching you out. You can imagine distinctly how it fills you, how it hits certain spots so perfectly. The memories alone making your stomach tight with need. But you narrow your eyes anyways and say, “that’s a funny way to ask.”
He smiles sleepily, and his eyes rove down your body — and Bakugou realizes, that he’s the weak one. Weak from the weed, weak from the way Kiri works him open, weak from the sight of your cunt wrapping so pretty around your fingers. But, somehow, in this moment, he’s comfortable in that weakness.
So he sucks at his teeth, closes his eyes for a moment before looking back up to you.
“I need you. Fuck– need’a feel your pussy on me.”
The please sits heavy in his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but you hear it nonetheless. 
You press forward, slot your mouth with his and let him wrap his arms around you to pull you onto him. Swinging your leg over his body, you come to rest atop him, hovering your hips over his just so until he’s growling in frustration and pulling you closer. Closer, he wants you closer – wants you both so much fuckin’ closer. So he hugs you against his sweat-dampened chest with strong arms, opens his knees wider and thrusts up to rub himself against you. 
The hot length of him sliding through your folds makes you gasp, and your body reacts on its own to grind back down on it. That’s all it takes to get it slippery, your pussy so wet already, leaking slick onto his skin and making it shine. 
With three fingers now stuffed knuckle-deep in Bakugou’s hole, Kirishima is getting impatient. His cock is so hard again that it hurts, throbbing in anticipation of feeling that elastic tightness currently gripping around his fingers. And now he’s watching you roll your hips back, seeing the evidence of how wet you are right there on the underside of Bakugou’s cock every time you roll them forward again. He’s squeezing his own cock at the sight, pushing his briefs down to free it so he can spit down on it.
You keep working yourself up, teasing yourself with slow grinds, letting the ridges of Bakugou’s hard cock stimulate your sensitive clit. His lips ghost against your jaw, teeth nipping lightly. “You want it?” He asks, breathy, just as worked up as you are. “Want my dick inside you?”
“Yes,” you feel him pant against your cheek, his cock pulse against your sex, “I want it so bad.”
“You want it so bad, put it inside you, then.”
Eagerly, you reach back behind you, wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock and swipe it through your folds once, twice, before slotting the tip at your entrance. Then, finally, you sink down.
There’s a resounding curse as your pussy starts to swallow Bakugou’s cock. 
From you, as you’re slowly filled to the brim with heat, his cock rigid and heavy as it makes room for itself inside you, the ache in your core finally soothed by the heady feeling of being completely full. 
From Bakugou, as your walls start to envelop him, quivering and squeezing around him, so snug and warm and wet that he can feel your arousal coating him and rolling down his balls. 
And from Kirishima, as he watches it all happen, sees the way you open up so eagerly for cock, the way your cunt gushes around it, the intrusion pushing your juices right out. The way it splits open and sucks in inch after inch after inch, until his cock has disappeared completely inside of you. 
Once you’re sitting all the way down, ass meeting skin, your clit resting against blonde curls, Kiri decides he can’t wait any longer.
You’re tipped forward as Bakugou’s legs are pushed open and back, and then you feel his breath hitch beneath you when Kiri’s dick begins to sink into him. 
“Oh— fuck—!” His jaw goes slack, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as he’s stuffed completely and utterly full of Kiri’s cock. It’s huge, a fact you know well, so you coo your encouragement into his skin, kiss down his jaw and the side of his neck with each reassuring whisper. 
“Ohh god, that’s so good,” Kiri sighs, eyes trained down to where his dick is being swallowed up, girth squeezed so tight it’s almost painful, “Takin’ me so, so well. Shit, so tight—“
The little, pink ring sucks him in deeper, stretching impossibly far around his thick cock. Kiri spits down on it, spreads it over his free length with his hand then pushes the fluid in with a shallow thrust. He does it again, slowly, answering each one of Bakugou’s choked groans with sweet, albeit equally choked words of praise. 
And you sit there, patiently, tasting Bakugou’s skin and scratching lightly at his scalp with his cock nestled inside you. 
The sensations are overwhelming — the impossible fullness in his ass, the delicious sting of Kiri working his cock in deeper and deeper. And the snug fit of your pussy around him, damp walls clenching every so often, like a warm, wet hug for his aching cock. His dick is jumping and tensing inside you, no doubt coating your insides with more and more sticky arousal with each careful push of Kiri’s hips.
And then Kirishima is finally buried to the hilt, balls meeting the tight muscle of his ass, and the long, low groan Bakugou lets out seems to vibrate right up your spine.
Kiri pulls out, the tight ring squeezing like a vice the whole way, and then slams back in.
“Fuck!” Bakugou’s face is pinched and flushed, sweat beading on his forehead when he pleads with you in a strained voice. “Need you to move. N-need you to ride me…” And this time he says it out loud, a hoarse and needy “Please.”
So you move for him, push your hips back on him so his cock is sliding slowly in and out of your pussy. It glides easily, so slippery with the mix of your juices and all the precum he was leaking right into you. You roll your hips steadily back and forth, back and forth, pulling pretty moans from Bakugou’s lips with each careful movement.
Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down and hugging you close, and then a new set of hands is gripping your ass. Kiri pulls you open, squeezing hard as he watches the dick slide in and out of your wet pussy, watches your silky skin hug and drag every time you roll your hips up. 
He has the most perfect view of you creaming around Bakugou’s cock, making a mess of white that coats it and collects right around the base. It makes his mouth water — so he spits down on your ass, watches the glob drip onto your hole and down over the dick you’re impaled on. It mixes with the fluids there, makes it even wetter, messier.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. Look at you…”  He murmurs, awe-struck, snapping his hips harder into Bakugou as his big hands push and pull on you, guiding you back and forth on another man’s dick. “Ride that dick, baby. So pretty… God damn, these holes are so pretty.”
“Y’like what you see, Red?” Comes your voice, sickeningly sweet as you smile over your shoulder at him.
“Mmm yeah, look so pretty stuffed with cock.” A smile of his own playing on his lips when he adds, “Both of you do.”
You send your hips back again, slowly, teasingly, and Kiri’s gaze drops back down to watch your pussy swallow Bakugou’s length. And right underneath that is Bakugou’s ass swallowing his length, over and over with each buck of his hips. Both holes so greedy, so wet and tight and eager for cock — the sight alone is overwhelming, downright pornographic, and Kiri feels his stomach tighten up with the tell-tale sign of his release—
So he pulls out, clenches his jaw and grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming so soon. “Shit, I almost…” He laughs, light and breathy, as he cards his other hand through his hair. “Just need a second.”
Fingers gripping your chin pull your attention back, Bakugou catching your mouth in a needy kiss before grinning up at you. The mist in his eyes has parted, nothing but fire outlining the deep, dilated black of his pupils.
His voice is quiet, but rough when he tells you, “‘m gonna fuck you now.”
You don’t have time to respond before you’re being flipped over. (Not that a response is needed. It wasn’t a question.)
You’re on your back once more, your legs being pushed open by hands cupped under your knees, Bakugou mounting you with a tongue swiping hungrily over his teeth. He slides his dick back inside you in one foul swoop, the head of his cock hitting your walls hard and knocking a shrill cry from your throat.
He’s so pent up from having you grind on him slowly, being a puddle underneath you despite aching with the animalistic need to pound you, that he just can’t hold back. He’s ruthless, needing to fuck you hard and fast and mean – and your pussy responds so beautifully, syrupy juices gushing out around his dick, practically spraying all over him with the force of his thrusts.
“God, this pussy’s so fuckin wet. So fuckin’ sloppy. All for me, yeah?”
Your staccato moans are the only answer you give – besides the loud squelch of your cunt when he buries himself to the hilt.
“Say it,” he spits, squeezing your face in his hands to force you to focus on him, “say it’s all for me.”
So you do — you chant it like a holy truth, with your eyes on him and your legs shaking. “All for you, it’s all for you!”
You’re rewarded with a more violent snap of his hips, pulling all the way out and slamming back in. “That’s. fucking. right.” He’s growling down at you, crazed, punctuating each word with a wet slap of skin.
“You like bein’ a little slut for us don’tcha, princess?” He drills you into the mattress, pinning both of your legs back, bending you painfully so he can fuck into you deeper. “Like bein’ my little cocksleeve?” 
All you can do is squeal, mind going blank as he bullies into you — so he answers for you, he knows the answer anyways. “Fuck yeah, you do.” Another hard thrust, and you’re sliding further up the bed. His hands hot, possessive when he drags you back. “Nasty little bitch — god, this pussy feels so fuckin’ good—“
But then he’s falling forward, being pushed forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. He shoots a glare behind him, spits a “what the fuck” back at Kirishima, who has a hand braced on the blonde’s shoulder and his eyes cast down.
Kiri grabs hold of the smaller man’s hip, squeezing as he pushes into him, in turn pressing Bakugou further into you. A collective hiss echoes through the room.
Kiri is sheathed back inside him and, like a switch being flipped, Bakugou goes silent. His breaths are ragged, his eyes glazed. His hips still. 
Kirishima pulls out, then fucks back into him just once, making Bakugou’s cock reach even deeper inside of you with the force of his thrust.
“Don’t stop.” A firm command, punctuated by soft kisses to Bakugou’s back. “Keep fucking her.”
Bakugou grits his teeth, breathing a curse out between them, then sets his jaw hard with determination and rocks his hips again. And Kiri stays still, lets him fuck himself back on his cock.
The blonde pulls out and slams back in, over and over, harder and harder, resuming his brutal pace. He’s fucking into you feverishly, spearing himself on Kiri’s dick as he spears you with his, seesawing back and forth between the two. 
“Ohhh fuck… there you go, good boy.” A big hand appears, wrapping loosely around Bakugou’s throat, fingers gripping right under his jaw to tilt his head up and make his back arch. Not choking but possessing, commanding. Dominating. The blonde pants, eyes rolling back, hips moving faster as he succumbs to the will of the man deep in his ass — and he looks positively blissful doing it.
Kirishima leans in and presses a cheek to his temple, eyes dark and piercing as he grips his jaw tighter. “Keep going just like that. Make her cum for us.”
Then he turns his gaze down to you. “Be a good girl and play with your pussy while he fucks you.”
You’re quick to obey, fingers finding your clit to rub fast, harsh circles into it. You were already close, dangling right on the edge from Bakugou’s rough treatment. And now the way your boyfriend is looking at you, looming over you both in a way that’s so different than you’ve ever seen him — you’re practically boiling over with desire.
Bakugou keeps fucking you, hard and deep, caught in between the heat of your cunt and the stretch of Kiri’s dick, and the sounds he’s making are downright sinful. Grunts and whines and broken curses that meld together in his mouth, sometimes spilling right over your lips, sometimes being swallowed by Kiri as his face is turned back by a hand on his jaw. He’s taken Kirishima’s cock before, and he’s given you his, but both at the same time has his eyes rolling so far up into his head that he can’t see straight.
He looks totally wrecked, completely fucked out, glassy-eyed and flushed and panting like a dog — it’s egging you on, making you rub your engorged nub faster as you feel pleasure winding tightly in your core.
And Kiri sees it on your face, so he brings his lips closer to Bakugou’s ear. His voice like cocoa, dripping dark and sweet.
“Want you to tell me when you feel her cumming, Katsuki. Tell me when you feel her gush on your dick.”
And something about that – being talked about like you’re not there, like you’re just a toy being shared, or a precious little pet being played with – makes the tether in you suddenly snap.
You do gush, hard, shrill chants of “ohmygod, ohmygod” and “yes, yes, yes” joining the chorus of wet sounds as you cum on Bakugou’s dick. His eyes go wide in realization before they’re rolling back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He groans long and low at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, leaking more and more slick that he fucks right out of you with each stroke. 
“Ohhh fuck— I feel it—! She’s so, f-fucking tight. So wet.”
Kirishima smiles, big and wicked, then reaches out to grab hold of your hips before plowing forward. 
He pounds hard and fast into Bakugou, big hands wrapped around your hips for leverage, trapping him between you. Each thrust is an explosive chain reaction — Kiri fucking into Bakugou, forcing Bakugou to fuck into you. You’re caged underneath the blonde, his forearms on the bed and his chest pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut as Kiri gives him every thick, rigid inch like a man possessed.
It’s merciless, the way Kirishima is manhandling you both, the mattress squeaking and the headboard thudding against the wall. And it’s hot, all of you damp with sweat, two hulking forms crowded over you and making you feel like a small animal caught in a trap. 
Your head digs back into the cushion, back arching off the bed, fingers scratching mindlessly at the sheets as you’re fucked into oblivion. You’re given no chance to come down from your high, everything so swollen and sensitive as your orgasm is prolonged past the point of sanity. 
Bakugou is so deep inside you, reaching so far up into your cunt that you swear you can feel him in your throat. Every pull has him dragging deliciously against your walls, and every push has him carving out the space again, his tip hammering right into your sweet spot like a pleasurable punch to the gut. You scream, babble incoherently about how deep he is, how it’s too much, how you can’t take it.
And Bakugou echoes you, voice hoarse and face pinched.
“Fuck— W-wait— if you keep— I’m g-gonna—“
Kiri shushes him, kisses his shoulder, coos so sweetly as he continues his relentless assault on both of your holes. “Take it a little longer, baby. Doin’ so good, so fuckin’ good for me.”
“Fuck , Ei—!“
“Go ahead.” Sweat rolls down his temple, red hair sticking to his forehead. He cranes his neck down, watches Bakugou’s ass swallow him up with a groan. “Cum for us. Do it inside her. Let it all out in that pussy.”
You’re practically brainless at this point, wet and warm and perfectly pliant underneath them, but Kiri’s filthy command brings you back down to earth. You hook your arms around Bakugou’s shoulders, as if he can be anymore trapped, and plead breathlessly for his cum.
“Please! Give it to me, please—!”
His eyes open, fiery red reappearing from behind his lids as he takes in the desperate, fucked out look on your face. He feels his balls tighten, stomach tingling — aching to give you exactly what you want. “Fuck, you want it? Want this load in your cunt?”
You nod furiously, open your legs up wider, wanting him deeper. “Fill me up, Kats. I want it— want it so fucking bad.”
A loud curse and another hard thrust, and his own hips start matching Kiri’s rhythm, chasing the slippery drag of your walls. You’re so tight around him, almost like your body knows what’s coming and is trying to milk it right out of him. 
“God damn— I’m gonna cum, gonna dump it all so deep inside you.” He burrows his face in your neck, his voice shaky and vibrating against your skin. “Fuck, take it— take all my fuckin’ cum—!”
Burying himself to the hilt, he gives it to you, shoots it all out against your walls, his dick pulsing so hard with each thick rope that you can feel it. It’s warm, flooding your insides with heat that spills out around his cock and trickles down your ass in hot, gooey trails.
And Kirishima feels it too, his cock caught in a vice-like grip as the muscles around it contract. He can barely move, sucked in by Bakugou’s orgasm, but each twitch and squeeze feels so unbelievably good — he throws his head back and lets the pleasure wash over him, pumping his cum right into that tight, needy hole. And then he pulls out, fists his cock wildly and shoots the rest of it out onto Bakugou’s ass. 
The redhead is panting as he strokes the last bit of cum from his tip, grabbing a handful of the blonde’s taut cheek to pull him open and watch the mess of white dribble from his loosened hole. There’s so much of it, oozing out in thick globs over his balls, dripping down to mix with the cum slipping out of you and coating his dick. “Such a mess…” he chuckles under his breath as he shifts out of the way enough for Bakugou to roll off of you.
But then a rough hand is tangling in his hair, pulling the redhead down towards your used up pussy as warm cum continues to seep out of it. Bakugou’s face comes right up to his, nose to cheek, with a nasty grin splitting his lips open.
“Then clean it up.”
Kirishima’s face is pushed down between your legs, and you gasp at the sudden contact of his mouth. His tongue is downright greedy as it laps the bittersweet cum from your folds, and you’re so sore and sensitive that you immediately whine and try to scoot away.
Two muscular arms hook tightly around your thighs, Kiri pulling you back in and looking up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Stay still, baby, please,” his tongue darts out again, groaning low at the taste, “gonna clean you right up, ok?”
“S-so sensitive—!”
“I know, baby girl, I know. Just let me…” But he can’t finish his thought, lashes fluttering as he continues licking up the cum from your entrance. The mix of you and Bakugou swirls around on his tastebuds, makes him dizzy with desire. He extends his tongue, drags it all the way up from your ass, letting it dip into your slit and collect more of the mixture for him to hungrily swallow.
It’s filthy, watching your boyfriend eat another man’s cum out of you like he’s starving for it — and you’re already so sensitive, your clit engorged and your folds swollen from friction. A thick finger pushes inside you, sinking knuckle deep to scoop more cum out of you, and your back arches high off the bed.
“Ohhhh— ohmygod fuck!”
Bakugou is right behind Kiri, watching with low eyes and a snarling smile. He pushes the bigger man’s face harder into you, laughs meanly when you gasp.
“What was that shit you told me?” He rasps, craning his neck down to talk in Kirishima’s ear. “Tell me when you feel her gush.”
It’s like a game between them, and you’ve somehow become the ball.
There’s an excited glint in Kiri’s eyes when he opens them again to stare up at you, plunging another finger into you and curling them hard as he latches his lips onto your clit. You writhe in the sheets, bucking and squirming as you’re overstimulated. But Kiri keeps you firmly in place, holding you down like it’s nothing with a thick arm barred over your hips, and quickly brings you back to the edge.
But this time is different, your insides so swollen from the beating they’d gotten, so sensitive from your last mind-numbing orgasm, so responsive to the beckoning curl of his big fingers… You feel it, the intense build of pressure, and your eyes go wide, pleas to wait and hold on tumbling from your lips as your body curls in on itself. But Kiri just keeps going, grunts his encouragement onto your clit as he sucks and licks it, flexes his forearm as he fucks you even harder on his fingers — and you fall right apart with a scream and a rush of fluids.
“Ohh shit!” Bakugou laughs as Kiri pulls his face away. 
The redhead braces a hand on your abdomen and pushes down to keep you still, then hooks his fingers into you, moving his arm hard to attack that spongy spot and fuck more squirt out of you. It sprays violently out of your cunt as you scream, showering them both in your essence, so much that it drips down their bare chests and soaks the sheets.
Bakugou slaps at your clit as you come down, laughs again when you buck up involuntarily. “Now that’s a fuckin’ mess.”
They’re both glistening, Kiri’s face dripping, droplets of your cum snaking down their stomachs. It’s nasty, everything muggy and wet and covered in somebody’s cum.
And you all look downright blissful about it, panting heavy and smiling like cats that got all of the cream.
Bakugou reaches out, kisses Kirishima hard and licks the taste of you off his mouth. Then he’s pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours, passing the sweetness on to you.
“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”
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waitingonher · 3 months
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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]
summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!
author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo
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percy jackson — doodling on him
“give me your hand.”
“yes ma’am.”
minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.
“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”
he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 
“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 
your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 
“whatever.” 
jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes
“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 
nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 
a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 
you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 
“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"
you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."
leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows
“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 
leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”
“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 
your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 
your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 
“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 
"i'm seriously going to kill you."
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3K notes · View notes
jeannineee · 2 months
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how they love you
(ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori)
author's note: requests are open <3 some lil' drabbles for our boys while i work on smau. also this is just my opinion so if you disagree then cope pls.
warnings: none, i think? maybe some suggestiveness
Satoru Gojo is a passionate lover. He loves you proudly and without reservation. Declarations made without fear, love expressed without hesitation. The type of man to stand outside of your house with a 70s boombox in the rain. Cheesy pickup lines despite being together for years. A new dress and matching jewelry on silk sheets for your weekly date night. No gift is too pricey, no public display of affection too crass to be bestowed upon the person he loves most.
"Did you see her? That's my wife!"
"Let's play titanic: you be the iceberg and I'll go down--ow! I'm sorry. Not really, though. Love you, pumpkin."
"We're going to Bora Bora for the weekend. No, you don't get to argue. Get your ass in the car."
Suguru Geto is a devoted lover. Heart-eyes from the moment you graced him with your presence. Adoring gazes from afar. Committing every inch of you into his memory. Studying the complex puzzle that is your mind, and solving it with every word out of your mouth. Your conversations are religious text, your body an altar at which he will always worship.
"What am I staring at? Just you."
"Tell me again. Yes, from the beginning. I want to hear it all."
"You're not boring me. I love hearing you talk."
Kento Nanami is an understanding lover. Knowing what you need before the words ever leave your mouth. Having your daily rituals memorized. Reminding you to drink water. A homecooked meal while you talk about your day. A fresh vase of flowers on the counter every Thursday. Rushed kisses shared in the morning before heading off to work. Comfortable silence. A beacon of stability in a world that is chaotic.
"Laundry is already done. Come sit with me."
"I bought more of that perfume you like. I saw you were running low."
"I love who you are now, and I will love the person that you become."
Megumi Fushiguro is a quiet lover. Pinkies intertwined as you walk to your favorite cafe. Sharing earbuds on the subway. Leaving his sweaters at your house, and loving the sight of you wearing them. Sharing his food with you. Holding your shopping bags. Halfhearted glares when you try to foot the bill. Shushing your rambling with a kiss. Telling you he loves you without directly saying the words.
"I bought this yesterday. It made me think of you."
"You mean everything to me, y'know?"
"I think you should keep it. It looks better on you."
Yuji Itadori is a doting lover. A golden retriever in human form. Hugs from behind, kisses on your shoulder. Holding things out of your reach, and a kiss being the ransom. Grinning whenever you enter the room. Talking about you even when you aren't around. Pictures taken in your sleep. Very cuddly. Could likely be compared to a koala hanging onto a tree. (You are his tree.)
"You look very pretty today."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you? Well I'm telling you again."
"She's perfect. Did you know she likes--oh. Sorry, Gojo-sensei."
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selineram3421 · 2 months
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*watching Hazbin Hotel and sees this deer man kicking his feet* I must have this in a fic!
Lovesick Alastor
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Alastor X Reader
Warning ⚠
⚠ The tale of the Radio Demon falling in love. Blood, possessive, obsessive, yandere coded Alastor ⚠
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Alastor had felt indifferent to romance for years.
What a silly thing! It was too stupid, dangerous, something that can turn you into a fool and get you killed.
Yes, he stayed cleared of it in life and in Hell.
That is until he got to know you.
You.
A lovely demon that is passionate in everything they do. A strong, powerful, and loving person who can be a bit of a klutz at times.
The first time he met you, you were dancing and singing to a song playing on the phonograph, the vinyl having a very energizing tune.
Rosie had sent him to you to try and start up a deal. You were starting up a shop nearby the colony and needed help getting your footing into the door. Your store was lacking in attention.
The perfect person to get a soul from.
Something held him back though. He just had to get to know the demon that tripped over their feet when spotting him.
"Falling for me already?", he joked.
But it was him who fell first.
You shined so brightly, how could he not?
Instead of having your soul the Radio Demon set out to have your heart.
Rosie was surprised that her friend did not make a deal and questioned him, curious with the change.
"Alastor, you never turn down a deal! Especially when this one is so easy.", she put down her tea cup, setting it down on the saucer.
"It's nothing to be concerned about, really. I just found something better.", he grinned and ate an appetizer.
"Hmm, alright. If you say so.", she let it drop for now.
Alastor paid a visit to your shop everyday.
He helped you renovate, pick out the best products for you to sell, and even had the pleasure to celebrate the first official opening.
Your shop was that of knick-knacks, it had things for customization. Mostly for anniversaries, birthdays, and celebration sorts. Doing things like engraving, embroidery, and carving.
One day you gave him a gift of his own.
"I wanted to thank you for all the help you've given me over the past few months.", you smiled and gently placed a small round box in his hand. "I hope you like it."
"Oh! And what is this?", he said and opened it, hearing music and a small smoke figures rising from the box to dance.
He noticed that the figure looked a lot like him and you, which got his dead heart to skip.
"This is wonderful."
Alastor looked up from the box and saw you beaming with joy.
"I'm so glad you like it!"
"No darling, I love it.", he corrected and took your hand. "If my guess is right, might I have the pleasure of courting you?"
"Only if you are true.", you squeezed his hand.
"Nothing but for you.", he lifted your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.
After that he quickly went to Rosie and almost kicked the door down.
"I have news!"
"Don't you kick my door!", his friend walked over to greet him.
The Radio Demon's smile was wide and he had an extra bounce in his step.
"I have news."
"You've said that already.", Rosie guided him over to her office.
After settling in, she sat down and patted the seat next to her. "Now, tell me what's got you so theatrical. Not that you aren't but this is more than usual."
"I can't sit now! I have to prepare!", the red dressed demon exclaimed. "I've begun courting someone and they've already given me a gift. I must return that tenfold! No! A hundred times more! A thousand! Millions!"
Rosie gasped and stood in shock.
"You? In love? I never thought I'd see the day!"
Alastor quickly turned towards the door. "I need to get them flowers!"
The woman quickly put a stop to his rambling.
"Now hold on old boy.", she sat him down. "Have you given thought to what they like the most? Surely you must have more ideas than just the old rose bouquet."
"Of course!", he laughed and pulled out a list from his chest pocket.
Once getting the all clear from his friend, and more ideas for gifts and actions, he took off to get something that would make you happy.
Alastor did everything and more.
Spoiling you with anything you could ever desire. Of course, this also caught the attention of his rival.
"When the fuck did this happen!?", Vox stared at the distorted screen.
It was a picture of the Radio Demon and a lovely looking thing on his arm.
"Don't know but its what Velvette found while scrolling.", Valentino said while cleaning his gun. "They don't look that entertaining."
The next day you found the underling of T.V. Overlord in your shop.
"Hello? Is there something you'd like to place an order on?", you asked walking over.
"Hello! My boss sent me here.", they handed a clipboard to you. "Please sign here for the package."
"Package? I didn't buy anything.", you said confused.
"Something was sent to you from my boss. This is just for confirmation that you received it.", they pushed it closer to you.
"Why?", you looked over the paper, not even taking the clipboard from the demon.
"Please just sign it.", they sighed.
"Dear? What's taking so long?", Alastor walked out of the back room, static growing louder once seeing the demon with the Vox-tech logo on his jacket. "Why are you here?"
"I'm j-just doing my job, sir.", the demon froze.
"Alastor.", you said, quickly getting the deer demon's attention. "I'll handle this. Don't you worry.", you smiled.
"Very well.", he quickly agreed and backed off, glaring at the demon. "Don't let this take long.", he threatened them.
You turned to the demon and smiled.
"I reject it, whatever it is."
Of course Vox wasn't happy with that.
Alastor was pissed.
How dare that piece of technologic crap try and get your attention. You were his, he had your affection first and it would also be your last. You would be with him forever and no one will take you.
So, to make sure this didn't happen again, the smiling demon sent back the Vox-tech worker back in a bloody box.
"Darling~", he hugged you from behind.
Both of you were in the back of your shop again, you were going over your stock.
"Come with me to this hotel I saw on the news. It looks quite entertaining!"
"I'd love to Alastor but you know I have to do my work.", you caressed the side of his face. "I'll let you know when I can visit as soon as I'm done with the set of rings."
"Rings?", he asked.
"Yes, there was this couple celebrating an anniversary and wanted their wedding rings engraved.", you smiled.
"Still together even after death? How romantic.", the deer commented. "I suppose I can wait for a bit longer. Though I do wish you could just drop everything."
"You know I can't.", you laughed and kissed his cheek.
Satisfied for now, the Radio Demon left for the hotel. Of course not everything was a smooth sailing but he managed to get everything settled for you to join him.
And when you did he was ecstatic.
"Darling! I see you finished those rings!", he twirled you in a hug.
"I missed you too love.", you hugged back.
The hazbin crew was shocked seeing him so affectionate with you.
"Who the fuck is this?"
"Oh how rude of me!", Alastor set you down but still held you close. "This is my significant other!"
"The fuck! Is this why you kept saying no to my offers!?", Angel crossed his arms.
"They are not the only reason! You are disgusting!", the deer demon grinned.
"What offers?", you questioned.
"This fellow kept offering to warm my bed dear."
"Oh?"
The room got darker and the walls started to distort.
"Hold on!", a blonde jumped in. "There is no killing guests in the hotel!"
"Charlie! Get away from them!", a white haired woman ran over with a spear.
You rolled your eyes and stopped.
"Sorry.", you smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you, I wouldn't dream of ruining your carpets!"
The two calmed down.
Alastor laughed and pulled you away from the group. "Don't you worry my darling, I made sure to threaten the spider properly. Let me show you around! I have a room set up to your liking."
"What? When did you-?"
"Let's go!", he teleported you with him using his shadows.
Everyone stood confused in the lobby.
"When the fuck did he start dating? How crazy is that demon to accept?"
Meanwhile you and Alastor were in your own little world. He showed you your hotel room and conjured up a door to connect your rooms together.
"If its too much I can get rid of the door.", he said and turned to look back at you. "What do you think?"
"Its very sweet of you.", you yanked him down by his bowtie. "Why didn't you tell me about the first time that spider made a comment like that?", you said in a commanding tone.
Your deer chuckled and kissed you.
"Because I knew that you would get jealous and I love to see you get like this.", he pulled you by the waist and into a dip. "We both know that I'd never accept something like that. Especially if its not you."
"I won't go there.", you moved your hands to hold his face. "I know you don't like things like that."
"I appreciate it my love.", he pulled you back up. "Now, what else would you like to do?"
"They said no killing, right?", you asked.
"Yes, no sinning here in the hotel my dearest.", he went to lie down on your bed.
"I can give him a good scare though.", you smiled and laughed darkly, plotting out a scheme.
Alastor sighed dreamily, kicking his feet back and forth as he watched you set up a plan.
Yes, he had fallen but he doesn't regret it.
Not one bit.
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From: Lovesick Alastor Headcanon
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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valeskafics · 2 months
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"Hunger" - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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a/n: from an anon request 🩷
Summary: You and Coryo come to an agreement about keeping love out of the equation. An agreement he can't hold himself to.
Word Count: 1,750
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, purity kink ig, dom!reader, loss of virginity, face sitting, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When Coriolanus Snow first meets you, his beautiful bride-to-be, he doesn’t quite know what to expect. You are the daughter of none other than President Ravinstill, giving him an easy entrance into the political arena. But, after what happened with Lucy Gray, Coryo is hesitant to trust, and even more hesitant to love. So, he resolves himself to keeping you at an arm’s length, to being polite to you, keeping the peace, having a calm but loveless marriage. The two of you have spoken about this at length via the letters you’ve written to each other in the days leading up to your first meeting. You were educated at home by private tutors rather than attending the Academy or University, and as such, never really saw much of Coryo growing up. He’s not sure he’d even be able to recognize you in a crowd. And it’s not like he was ever particularly close with your brother either. So, the two of you mutually decide to have an amiable but affectionless marriage. It is for the best, to keep your expectations low and your hearts protected.
That all goes out the door the moment he sees you. 
You’re lovelier than he ever could have dreamed. You walk with the grace of a queen. And that’s exactly what he vows to make you. His fingers tremble as he offers you a white rose, a small smile on his lips. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are, how you make his heart pound against his ribs, how all he wants to do is kiss you till your lips are swollen and all you can think of is his name. But you are so matter-of-fact and down to business. You simply nod and smile at him, accepting his gift and placing it in your hair.
He knows you’ve never been with a man before, your father being as overprotective as he is. You tell him as much when the two of you are left alone in your father’s parlor to get to know each other better. You’re so prim and proper, the picture perfect fiance. But even though he swore to himself he’d never allow himself to be vulnerable again after Lucy Gray, he finds himself yearning for you. For your smile, your voice, your very presence. You smell of roses and jasmine, the combination stirring something deep inside of him. You favor wearing white, and part of him wonders if it’s because of the roses he gives you every day.
White. A fitting color for one of your innocence, your virtue. The perfect wife to be for a man like him. The only thing that threatens to ruin it all is your indifference. You’re nice enough to him. Conversation between the two of you comes easy. But every time he tries to scratch past that shiny veneer of yours, he’s met with resistance and quickly rebuffed. You only tell him the bare minimum about yourself and only seem interested in learning the bare minimum about him. At the parties in the Capitol, at the Presidential Palace and otherwise, the two of you are paraded about as the very picture of young love.
Coryo doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything as badly in his life as he wants you. He remembers being a little boy, wandering the streets of the Capitol, his belly aching from hunger, desperate to have a taste of something. Anything. He feels that same hunger now, whenever he looks at you. The way you smile for the cameras, that white rose in your hair that shows that you will soon belong to him, if not in your heart, then at least in name.
The wedding is just as lavish as he thought it would be. Hundreds of white doves released as you walk down the aisle toward him, your head held high, looking as beautiful as ever, your lips painted crimson red, your hair flowing behind you, your wedding dress hugging your curves, emphasizing your gorgeous figure. You say your vows, though for some reason, you do not meet his gaze. Coryo continues trying to get you to look into his eyes, but even when the two of you share your first kiss, you don’t look at him. When the two of you share your first dance, you don’t look at him.
You don’t look at him until you reach the small chateau your father has arranged for your honeymoon to be in, just on the outskirts of the Capitol. Your butler brings your belongings inside and Coryo follows after you, wondering if the two of you are even going to be doing anything tonight. Clearly, you don’t want him the same way he wants you. You don’t yearn for his love, hunger for his touch, long for his embrace. You don’t want him the way he wants you, nowhere even close to it.
Coryo sits on the bed, frowning. Well, sulking. It’s your wedding night and you haven’t even told him once how handsome he looks. He knows that this is what the two of you agreed to. A lifetime of compromise. But looking at you now, all he wants is to hold you, touch you, kiss you, feel your body moving against his-
“Will you unzip me?”
His eyes go wide and he’s up on his feet, crossing the room to you within mere seconds. Coryo’s fingers trace the delicate skin of your upper back, moving your hair aside as he deftly unzips your gown. He gulps, realizing that you’re wearing nothing beneath it, his gaze drawn to your lower back, the curve of your hips, the supple flesh of your ass as the gown falls away. You’re beautiful. A work of art. You turn to face him, your breasts so round and full now in his line of sight, the soft patch of curls just above where he wants to feel you most. He forces himself to meet your eyes, seeing a mischief in them he hasn’t before.
“For someone who didn’t seem to be able to keep your eyes off of me, you’re acting so shy now.”
His eyes go wide with surprise as you push him backward onto the bed, crawling over him, “I… Uh…”
“Come on, Coryo,” you croon, his nickname falling off your tongue like honey in his ears, fingers threading in his blond hair, “Don’t tell me you thought I didn’t want you?”
“That’s,” he groans, leaning into your touch, allowing you to dispose of his clothes, tossing them to the side to join your now forgotten gown, “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Just because we said we weren’t going to fall in love doesn’t mean we have to deprive ourselves of the more enjoyable aspects of marriage,” you tease, nipping at his earlobe, your nails raking down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, “You’re so strong, Coryo. Bet you could just shove me up against the wall and fuck me, couldn’t you?”
He nods eagerly, feeling your fingertips tracing his lips, eyes wide as he stares at you, “Uh huh.”
“Mmm, but tonight, you’re not the one who’s in charge.”
Despite always wanting to be in control, never wanting to be vulnerable with anyone ever again, he lets you take the lead. His hands grope at the flesh of your ass as you straddle his face, grinding your sweet little cunt against his lips, letting him taste you the way he’s wanted for months now. Coryo’s hard just from the lewd sounds that escape his lips, from the taste of you, the sight of your thighs trembling, the way you moan his name, the way your tits bounce as you move against him. You’re using him for your own pleasure, and he loves it. He wants to make you feel good. To see you come undone because of him and him alone. To know that he’s the first person to have done this to you, to taste your slick on his tongue. And fuck, you taste so sweet, you smell divine. He suckles at your puffy clit, rolling the sensitive bud between his lips letting you grind yourself against him until you finally reach your peak with a keening cry of his name.
Coriolanus Snow isn’t a virgin, far from it, but when you sink down onto his cock, your tight little pussy squeezing around him like a vice, he thinks he may as well be. You bounce up and down on him, hands splayed across his chest to brace yourself, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, your moans intermingling with his echoing throughout the room. Every roll of your hips against his, every time you clench around him, brings him closer and closer to his own end, his hands moving to hold your waist, wanting to have something, anything, to ground him. He stares up at you, the way you throw your head back, how you move one of your hands between where your bodies join, rubbing furiously at your clit, your walls fluttering around him. He sits up, eagerly taking one of your tits in his mouth, feeling not in the least embarrassed at the little smirk you give him.
You know he’s desperate for you. You know you have him under your thumb, drunk off your cunt, off whatever affection you’re willing to give him. And you love it. He knows you love it. You bite down hard on your lower lip, moving faster and faster, his lips moving to your other breast, palming at the one he’s just let go of, your movements growing more and more erratic until you reach your peak once more, groaning his name, allowing him to fuck you through your climax, spilling himself deep inside you, his cum filling you.
You lay back on the bed beside him, a satisfied little grin on your face as you make yourself comfortable. Coryo turns toward you, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips.
“I love you,” he whispers, feeling pathetic for saying it.
But he means it. Truly, he does.
Your gaze isn’t unkind, nor is it pitying. It’s one of understanding.
“I know you do,” you say calmly, “And one day I’ll feel the same. Just give me time.”
Coryo nods, pulling you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you off to peacefull slumber.
One day.
One day you’ll feel the same hunger he does.
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trivia-yandere · 3 months
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fixation
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a look into where it all began with jungkook and how much he loves having his lips on you… @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom
warning: step-sibling relationship, coercion, oral sex, slight yandere behavior, manipulation, nipple sucking, dry humping/grinding, fingering,
word count: 4.639
series masterlist
You’ve known Jeon Jungkook since you were a child - 10 years of age.  Your father had brought his mother - a beautiful woman, you’d admit, and her son over for dinner one night while you stayed the weekend with him. “Y/N, this is Jungkook.” you recall your father speaking, his hands upon Jungkook’s shoulders. You were seated at the dining table when the two of them arrived. “He’s going to be your brother.”
Jungkook acted the part - even if the two of you were the same age - as the annoying brother. You could also blame your 10 year old self, as well, for how you acted. You were an only child - a girl, at that - and finally, your father had a son. He and Jungkook watched sports together and went to games often. They would go fishing and when you came on the weekend, you’d hear Jungkook brag about it constantly.
But even if your father now had a son, Jungkook’s mother had a daughter. She enjoyed doing your hair the best she could and attempting to go places with you that she could only dream a mother and daughter duo would go - but that never angered Jungkook as much as it angered you that he was with your father. 
“It's just a little sibling rivalry.” your father said to Jungkook’s mother - now his wife - when you and Jungkook were attending middle school. Jungkook was new to your school and yet, he excelled. He had more friends than you and charted the highest scores - the two of you being tied academically. 
Every worry Jungkook’s mother had was brushed off by your father. “They act just like siblings.” he’d say with a laugh whenever you and Jungkook bickered over everything - and nothing. You dreaded going to your fathers on the weekends because that meant that you’d have to see and deal with Jungkook entirely - and he was nothing but a pain in the ass.
High School was the same, the only difference was the change in appearances. Jungkook grew overnight it seems and his high voice deepened. He worked out more due to him playing sports and that also meant his body changed, as well. 
“That’s your brother?!” a friend said with wide eyes when Jungkook had given you a sideways hug (a rule he had broken just to piss you off) and said: “Dad wants us to ride home together.”
And from that moment, you were Jungkook’s sister - not Y/N, but Jeon fucking Jungkook’s sister and you suspected he did it purposely. 
And Jungkook had - something he’d never admit to you. Just as his body developed in High School, so has yours and by senior year you were the talk of the boys locker room (as were most senior girls). “Y/N’s ass is amazing.” one boy had said as he walked in, his eyes focused down the hall where Jungkook assumed you were standing. “She has the perfect hips.”
“Her lips are good, too.” said another boy. “I just know she knows how to suck-”
“That’s my sister.” Jungkook deadpanned, his eyes narrow at the boys who immediately silence their crude talk about you.
A side of Jungkook told himself that he respected you as his (step) sister and didn’t like the filthy thoughts coming from others. But then there was the side of him that he wanted to bury away that agreed with them.
Jungkook had noticed that same day how your hips were nice and your ass was amazing. As you and he walked out of school together that Friday, he noticed as you sat in his car (a gift from your father since Jungkook had gotten his license before you) that your lips were good. You were coating them with gloss, eyes focused on the mirror to not mess anything up. 
Once these thoughts were there, they weren’t going away; as disgusting as it was.
You were his (step) sister and Jungkook had respect for you - even if the two of you fought constantly. You appeared to dislike him as a whole as you grew older and of course, he’d tease you and say it was because he was better than you at everything - but still, you were his sister.
The thoughts he held for you were impure and they weren’t going to go away until he fixed them.
It started subtle at first; light touches. He’d brush by you on the weekends when you’d come. Now teenagers at 18 of age, you two were often left alone. Your father would often go out with Jungkook’s mother and neither of you minded - Jungkook would bring his friends over and sometimes, you’d do the same. This weekend was different, however. There was a change in Jungkook’s behavior.
Jungkook would hold your hips often when passing by. He’d place a hand on your lower back when he comes up from behind you. His teasing never ceased, but they became more…sensual? 
Your mind tells you that it’s in your head. Jungkook was (unfortunately) your brother - step brother - but a brother nonetheless. He has now introduced you as his sister at school and that now means you had girls you’d never talk to attempting to speak with you in order to get to the person that was Jeon Jungkook.
The first time you’ve done something with Jeon Jungkook you had cried and vomited when you came back to your senses. “Stop being scared.” Jungkook said, passing you the glass with a shot's worth of alcohol in it. “Dad would never know.”
You grabbed the glass only because you didn’t want to appear like a loser. It was the weekend once more and you stayed at your father’s home and it was the same weekend your father and step-mother were celebrating their anniversary away. They felt comfortable leaving you and Jungkook alone more now since graduation was right around the corner. 
 A few friends and no parties was your father’s rule and that’s exactly what you’ve stuck by. Jungkook had a few friends each over while you decided to remain alone - Taehyung was someone you were nervous around because he was older and college age. He was far more experienced in drinking than you’d ever be and you didn’t want to appear like a fool.
“Your sister’s so cute.” Jimin had said to you - the same age as Taehyung and attending the same college. He laughed when your face scrunched in disgust at the harsh taste of the alcohol. “So innocent.” he murmured. 
It didn’t take long for the effects of the alcohol to flow through you entirely and you were now looser. You laughed along to whatever Taehyung said, a hot feeling running through you. The man sees the glossy look in your eyes as you look at him with such innocent-like eyes and he does nothing but pat your head gently - you were someone he had to remain at a distance because you were his younger friend's sister.
“You like Tae.” Jungkook said to you once his friends had left and you and he were left alone. “He’ll never like you back, you know? Bro code.”
Your head is spinning slightly and all you can hear is the annoying voice of Jungkook ruining your vibe. You grabbed the bottle from his hands and took a messy swig of it. “Fuck you.” you slur.
Jungkook scoffs, his eyes racking your figure. You had taken off the hoodie you wore an hour ago and now stayed in a tanktop and shorts. 
“No one likes me because of you.”
“That’s not true. Everyone likes you.” Jungkook had scoffed - he’s come across enough locker room talk about you.
“And no one wants to do anything with me because of you!” you hissed. You were drunk, Jungkook notes, and now your feelings were falling right into his lap. 
“You should be thanking me. They just want to use you for your body. They can smell your virginity from a mile away.”
Your eyes widen and your body heats with embarrassment. Without thinking, you threw the bottle at Jungkook. It smashes against his chin and he releases a loud groan at you doing so.
“I-I’m sorry-” you didn't actually intend for the bottle to connect. 
Jungkook presses his lips against yours, hands roughly grabbing your hips to keep you down. You’re shocked at the action and for a moment, you’re stuck on what to do or how to react. 
You’ve kissed a boy before, sure, but not Jungkook - his lips are soft and not as chapped as the last boy you’ve kissed. 
Jungkook pushes himself away as if realizing his mistake, his eyes are just as wide as yours and before he can apologize for his actions, you vomit completely on him, hot tears pouring down from your eyes. Now you’re truly embarrassed; humiliated. You were crying because the thought of kissing Jungkook sends shockwaves of both disgust and a taboo pleasure; and because you also vomited on him.
You ran to your room, stumbling a bit because the room was spinning entirely too much. You ignored Jungkook’s calls for you entirely and slammed your door shut.
You felt stupid, disgusted and humiliated all at once. 
It was the following morning where you were forced to face Jungkook once more, now sober, and this time the boy refused to be ignored. You were fresh out of the shower, speed walking down to your bedroom where you were face to face with Jungkook, him sitting directly on your bed. 
“Good morning.” Jungkook says cooly, his eyes on your face as if awaiting for your reaction. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask, clenching the towel on your body tighter. 
“Are you scared of me, Y/N?”
You’re taken aback by the question. “No.” you answer truthfully - there wasn't a reason to. Jungkook wasn’t a threat to you. 
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“More like a roach.” you spit, and Jungkook chuckles. 
“I want to talk about last night.”
You swallow, the room now growing hot. “What about last night?” you say, stepping into your room. “I got drunk…I don’t really remember what happened.” 
Jungkook watches you intently as you enter your closet and crack the door gently. It was big enough for you to hide in it for a moment to grab a robe and return. “Did I do something to embarrass myself?” you laugh humorlessly. 
You’re shaking with nerves and Jungkook knows you’re lying; pretending to not know what has happened. 
“You don’t remember?” Jungkook furrows a brow, turning to you fully. You sit on your bed, back pressed against the headboard.
You shake your head. 
“Hm.” Jungkook stands. “That’s too bad.” 
You swallow a dry lump in your throat, a part of you wanting to question what Jungkook meant by “too bad”. 
“You told me it was my fault that no one touches you.” Jungkook says after a moment of reading your face. “I’m sorry for that.”
Your body is hot; you remembered saying that. You remembered it all, as drunk as you were. You’re surprised you didn’t wake up with a hangover.
“It’s not your fault.” you murmur, glancing away. 
“I know.” Jungkook snickers. “Still, I know how boys are, Y/N. I am one.” he says. “They’ll take advantage of you. They’ll use you just to get in your pants.”
The conversation was going left, you note. You and Jungkook never spoke about this - sex or boys or anything related. He once teased you for having a crush back in middle school and that caused you to push him hard in a puddle of mud. He was so embarrassed about “being pushed by a girl” that he told your father that he tripped instead. 
“You should experience…” Jungkook trails off, as if trying to find the correct words to say. “...being touched by someone you love-”
“Please stop the speech.” you’re cringing, never in a million years thinking you’d hear this from Jungkook of all people. 
“I’m being serious Y/N.” Jungkook comes around to sit directly in front of you, eyes watching you closely. “It’s better with someone you love.”
“Did you love anyone you,” you raise your hands to do air quotes. “touched.”
Jungkook snickers. “I’m a boy. We’re wired differently.” he brushed your question off. “You’re a girl. You’re not. You’ll grow attached to the person who takes your virginity and they’ll let you down. And as your brother,” Jungkook’s eyes zone in on you so deep that it catches you by surprise. “I’ll have to kill them.”
You roll your eyes - but goosebumps litter the skin of your arms. “You’re so unserious.” you respond. “Since when do you play the step-brother role?”
“Since now. I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook smiles, his teeth - that reminded you of a bunny - on full display. “That’s why I want to be the one to…touch you.”
Now, in this instant, you’re positive that you looked like you’ve seen a ghost. Your body is stiff and your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. He doesn’t speak for a moment to allow your mind to think about the words he’s spoken. 
“Excuse me?”
“Yes?”
Jungkook doesn’t appear as distraught as you - he was the one to suggest it. 
“W-What are you saying?” you hiss at him, body hot. You’re sure this was another cruel joke Jungkook was going to push at you. He was going to burst out laughing at any minute and it was just a ruse to fluster you even more.
“I’m saying,” Jungkook tilts his head. “I want to be the one to pleasure you first.” he reiterates nonchalantly. “I can’t think of anyone that would love you more than me. You’re my sister-”
“Don’t call me that!” you hiss at Jungkook. 
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why not? Is it not true?” he asks. “You’re my step-sister. If you want to lose your virginity then I’ll be the perfect person to do so. I actually care for your feelings, don’t I?” he shrugs his shoulders. 
You shake your head, mind trying to adjust to Jungkook’s words. “You’re crazy.” you scoff, but you glance away for a moment to think about what he’s said. 
“You’d rather have sex with someone you don’t love than me?” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest. 
“You’re my broth…step-brother.” you respond. “It’s kinda weird thinking about you in that way.”
“Then don’t.” Jungkook shrugs. “Just think of me as Jungkook. We’re both seniors in High School about to graduate. Do you really want to go to college as a virgin?”
Going to college as a virgin shouldn’t bother you - you weren’t there to be fucked into oblivion countless times. However, your childish mind tells you that going to college without any experience was going to be your downfall. You think about Jungkook’s older friends - how Jimin called you innocent. How Taehyung lightly patted your head to dismiss you.
Jungkook watches your face fall and he understands that slowly, you were considering his proposal.
“We don’t have to jump into sex completely. Since you’re new to this I want to focus on your pleasure.”
“Like what?” you ask innocently. 
Jungkook offers a soft smile. “You trust me, right? I love you and you love me.”
Slowly, you nod. You’re sure you did love Jungkook - knowing his since you were a child and growing up alongside him.
“Okay.” Jungkook nods his head, inching closer to your stiff frame. He places a hand onto your face. “It’s just me, remember. You don’t have to be scared.”
You nod your head hesitantly. You didn’t have to be scared, yet you were. The thought of doing anything sexual with Jungkook causes fear to run through your veins - getting caught in the act was yet another fear. Your father wouldn’t be returning until Monday afternoon, but that didn’t cause your nerves to cease.
Jungkook leans closer to press a kiss against your lips much like he did the night prior, only this time more gentle. His lips were what you remembered them to be - soft and…a hint of strawberry? Jungkook often wore chapstick so you weren’t as confused as you would’ve been. 
You don’t move and allow Jungkook to completely take charge. “I’m going to continue to kiss you.” he murmurs breathily against your lips and you can only nod. But Jungkook doesn’t kiss your mouth, he instead kisses down your jawline to your chin and reaches your neck. “Lay down.” he instructs.
Your robe hikes up your thigh as you do as Jungkook tells you and it’s that moment that you remember that you were naked under the silk material - how you forgot was beyond you. 
A hand touches your outer thigh and you flinch, nerves kicking back in. 
“It’s just me.” Jungkook repeats against your neck. “Open your legs.”
It takes you a moment to listen to Jungkook. You’re trembling when you finally do open your legs and Jungkook takes it upon himself to wrap them around his waist. 
Jungkook’s closer - the closest he’s ever been to you. You were naked right beneath him, the silk robe only reaching higher and higher up your thigh that you have no coverage whatsoever. 
Jungkook’s sweats are thick, but he’s directly against your core and he could feel the pulsing from between your legs, similar to a heart beat. 
Your skin is soft, Jungkook notes while both hands run beneath the robe. He inches up slowly, enjoying the way your breathing becomes heavy.
“Jung-” you don’t finish your speech and it’s interrupted by both of Jungkook’s hands engulfing your ass entirely. 
Jungkook shudders at the feel of you. His sweats were becoming tight but he knows he cannot act on his urges - not when you were trusting him with this. 
Jungkook’s kisses proceed to go past your neck, hands rising  upwards to untie your robe. It falls open and now Jungkook has full access to your naked body.
“You have such a slutty body, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, his voice deeper than usual. You want to ask what that meant and if it was bad; but Jungkook doesn’t allow you to. His hands engulf your breast fully, his thumbs rubbing along your erect nipples. 
“Does that feel good?” Jungkook asks, his eyes darting from your breast to your face. 
You slowly nod your head, embarrassed at how good it did feel. 
“Good.” Jungkook mumbles. Your breast felt as amazing as your ass and fit perfectly in the palms of his hand. His own breathing intensified, his cock throbbing to be released from the prison that was his underwear and sweatpants. “You’re aroused. I can feel your through my sweats.”
“Sorry-”
“Don’t apologize.” Jungkook snickers. “You’re supposed to be. Here,”
Jungkook wanted to feel you as much as he possibly could. He removes himself from you briefly, his warmth gone entirely that you slightly shiver. He then lowers his sweats enough so that he’s only in his underwear, his erection appearing painfully hard. 
“You can grind against me. It’ll feel good.” Jungkook returns to you, left hand dipping to grip your ass and press you firmly against his clothed erection. The material of his underwear briefs are far more thin than his sweats and he’s thankful that he gets to feel some part of you.
While Jungkook’s left hand grips your ass, his left goes to rub along your breast, his thumb and index pinching your nipple for a reaction.
You yelp when you feel a new sensation - Jungkook’s tongue. He’s ensuring every part of you has a form of pleasure, his tongue swirling on your other nipple entirely.
Jungkook’s hips thrust into you, his eyes fluttering close. His pleasure could never match what you were feeling now, but even doing the deed - something so forbidden for step-siblings - was causing a wave of adrenaline and pleasure to flow through him.
The pleasure you were feeling was just as foreign, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt. You could feel the sticky arousal between your legs that’s staining Jungkook’s underwear. You couldn’t care now, not when you were matching Jungkook’s thrust with your own grinding.
This isn’t good, you tell yourself. Jungkook and you weren’t supposed to be doing this.
But it felt good - Jungkook’s tongue suckling on your breast, his hand gripping your ass so tight while he’s grinding against you. 
“I told you it’ll feel better when you do it with someone you love.” Jungkook says against your breast, his tongue flickering out his lips to flicker against your nipple. 
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The amount of times Jungkook and you continued to engage in sexual acts should be unhealthy. It should have stopped after the first time - but it didn’t. You’re embarrassed to say that you came just by grinding against him, an act that Jungkook found so hot that he wanted to do it again and again and again.
The entire weekend was you and Jungkook. Slowly, you became comfortable with being with him. By the third day, you had since sat in his lap completely naked just in hopes of getting off - and Jungkook allowed it. He loved watching the way you succumb with pleasure,  so wet and ready to cum that you didn’t care what he was doing. He had to mute his microphone on his game that he was playing with Taehyung, ignoring the screams his friend was shouting over the headset about their team losing because of him - but Jungkook didn’t care.
One thing Jungkook enjoyed was tasting you, as weird as it sounded. He’s done this before with other girls - but you were different. He enjoyed sucking and kissing on your kiss and watching your raw reaction to it. He’d place his hands upon your hips as you grind against his cock,  his tongue rubbing along your soft skin. Your breasts were littered with hickies now and you didn’t care in the slightest.
But Jungkook is salivating at the thought of getting to taste you. He can feel how wet your are, your pussy releasing sweet arousal all over his cock that it’s a waste that he hasn’t tasted it. 
The idea of you spread before him as he ravishes your pussy, your moans high and full of lust.
Jungkook is going to do so - now. He doesn’t care if you’re on the phone with your friends; you’ve interrupted him when he was on his game. He had to hear Taehyung berate him for an hour straight.
You’re already naked, Jungkook notes, and that’s good. While you and he started this only two days ago, you wanted him at every given moment and being naked was the quickest way for you to have him. 
Jungkook enters your room without knocking and you furrow a brow at him. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t need to. You know what he wants (in a way) and you’ll always be ready to give it to him. 
What you aren’t expecting was Jungkook to pull your legs apart, and without warning, dive right into it. His tongue lays flat against your clit, his hands going beneath your thighs to assure you don’t close them.
You yelp loudly at the sudden action, a low groan releasing from your lips.
“I-I’m okay.” you tell your friend over the phone. “K-Keep telling me what happened.”
You mute your phone and place it aside. “W-What-”
“Shut up.” Jungkook tells you. He doesn’t want to think about anything but tasting you, having you cum all over his lips. 
Your friend's speech dies down in the background. Jungkook doesn’t allow any time for you to adjust, his tongue laps between your folds hungrily. Your moans are as sweet as your pussy and he focuses on it and your pleasure entirely. He slurps and sucks against your clit as if it’s his last meal.
“Jungkook, I-I-”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to look at you and once more, you groan. 
This is bad, you think. No, worse. 
You told yourself that eventually, you and Jungkook would need to stop this. That you couldn’t keep allowing him to make you cum; but then he makes it harder. Grinding against him was one thing - still bad seeing as he was your step-brother - but this? This was worst.
And the worst felt so good.
“K-Kookie,  please-”
You haven’t called Jungkook that since middle school - a nickname he hated as he grew older. But the name sounds so sweet coming from your lips that he just wants to ravish your pussy even more. 
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, then swipes his tongue against your clit slowly. He keeps his eyes on you as he does this, your reaction enticing him. “Want you to cum on my face.”
Your thighs quiver at Jungkook's words, body radiating with heat. Slowly you nod your head, slightly anticipating the new found pleasure Jungkook was giving you.
“It’ll feel good…” Jungkook says suddenly. “...might feel a little different.”
You’re unsure what he’s speaking of until you feel pressure. Your walls clench around his fingers, the feeling completely unexpected and unfamiliar. 
“Relax, Y/N. It’ll feel good soon.”
Jungkook continues to lick on your clit, slowly entering his fingers deeper inside of you. You’re tight - the tightest he’s ever felt. But you were also a virgin and this was something he’s never had before. It excites him greatly, the thought of you giving your body to him; him being your first for everything sends shock waves through him.
You hum low and your thigh twitches. Jungkook's fingers are long and they’re now hitting a nerve deep inside of you. 
Your back arches as Jungkook picks up the pace in his thrusting. His eyes never leave you as he does, enjoying the way your face contorts with pleasure. You’re beautiful, he thinks, as he always thought you were. Now you’re beautiful to him in more ways than one and your body has developed gracefully over the years.
Your eyes snap shut, a long moan releasing deep from your throat. You’re positive that this was going to make you cum quick - the quickest you’ve ever had. 
“You’re so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook says, hovering above you. He doesn’t stop his thrusting fingers and his eyes are fixed on how good the sight of you is. “Aren’t you happy you agreed to this?”
“Yes!” you moan, nodding your head. There’s that familiar bubbling in your stomach creeping up on you.
“So pretty…” Jungkook groans. Your juices were leaking onto his palm entirely. He can’t wait until he could have you the way he wants to - to fully pleasure you the best way he knows how. 
This isn’t something Jungkook ever wants to stop doing - the rush that goes through him at the fact that this is something you and he were not supposed to be doing. The forbidden action makes him want you even more - want you at times he truly shouldn’t and he ponders how he would react when you two were no longer alone. 
Your thighs are shaking erratically and Jungkook knows you’re cumming. This must be bliss for you, he thinks, cumming so much in such a short amount of time. You’re just lucky that it was him - someone who truly loved you - that was doing this for you. Another person wouldn’t care if you came or not.
Jungkook presses a kiss against your lips as you ride out your orgasm. He sends them across your cheek to your neck as you slowly begin to calm down from your high. “I think your friend hung up.” Jungkook says, eyes glancing at your discarded phone. 
You don’t respond, exhaustion hitting you drastically. 
Jungkook pecks your lips once more. “Next time, I want you to sit on my face.” he says to you, removing his fingers entirely.
This was bad, you think. But you didn’t want it to end.
next (tape) | series masterlist | final (sibling rivalry)
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darknight3904 · 4 months
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!
You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.
It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.
"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.
"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.
"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.
One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.
"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.
You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.
"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed
"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out
" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth
"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.
"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"
He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him
"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile
"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.
"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.
"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side
"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.
Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you
"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.
Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.
"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.
"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks
"You love it." He sighed into your skin.
Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games
You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?
It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.
"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly
"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat
"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said
"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.
"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say
"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies
"So you were just comforting her?" You ask
"Yes. Nothing more." He says
Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?
"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.
You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.
"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.
"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended
"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh
"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed
"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say
"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage
"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says
"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter
"That wasn't cheating." He says
"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask
"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says
"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."
"She'll win." He assures himself
"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.
"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer
"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."
"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently
"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly
"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you
"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh
"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."
You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.
"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."
Part 2
In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.
The teaser for Part Two can be found here
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porcelainseashore · 23 days
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Heavenly Creatures
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Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader
Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.
Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂
Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.
AO3 Link
Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.
Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.
Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.
Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.
One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”
Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.
“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.
Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.
The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 
You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.
He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 
You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”
He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”
“I know.” You grinned.
“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.
You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”
He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.
You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.
“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”
“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.
“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.
“I think you’re nice too.”
And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 
You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.
━━━━━━━━━━━
A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 
People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.
Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 
“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.
Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.
Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 
Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.
Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.
You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.
As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.
When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.
You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.
All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.
You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.
It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 
It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.
This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.
At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.
When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.
“What are you playing at?”
“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”
There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”
You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”
There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”
“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.
“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”
“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 
His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.
He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”
“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”
Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.
“Um-”
Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.
However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.
“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 
If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 
Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.
“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.
“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”
“Catholic guilt?” You teased.
“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.
“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.
He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”
“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.
Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.
Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”
“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.
He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.
He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.
With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”
Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”
“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.
“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”
Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.
Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.
Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.
Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.
Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”
Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.
Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 
“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.
You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.
“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.
“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.
And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.
You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?
Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.
Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.
Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”
You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”
There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.
Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”
“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.
He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.
She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.
When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.
Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.
At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”
Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 
As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.
There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.
“Huh?”
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.
“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”
You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.
“Feeling good?”
“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”
He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”
You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”
He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.
“What was that again?” He taunted.
You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.
“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.
At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”
With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.
You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.
His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.
It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 
Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.
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toji-bunny-girl · 3 months
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓✩’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓
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CHARACTERS— Santa!Gojo Satoru x pretty sexy gorgeous fem!reader SUMMARY— Supposedly another Christmas night being lonely and horny, you’re suddenly woken up by Santa coming to claim you your Christmas gift. WORD COUNT— 3k+ CONTENT WARNING— slight angst, swearing, smut, porn with plot, virginity lost, fingering, clit sucking, oral sex, no protection A/N— Merry Christmas, my fellow bitchless angels 😔 Ya’ll better not let this shit flop or else I’m going insane. btw guys God literally told me face-to-face that my dog is cuter than your pet 😨 it’s true tho
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“So,” your co-worker, Mina started as she haled the roll-up gate down, flipping her long extensions behind her shoulder before grabbing the lock from your extended hand, “got any plans this Christmas?”
“I don’t know…I’ll probably go out with my friends to the new cat cafe. You?” you watched as her fingers worked deftly to lock the gate before trying to pull it open in an attempt to make sure she got it locked.
“Kai wants to visit Ginzan Onsen, said it’ll be the best place to ‘make love’ or something. I mean, long story short he thinks it’s a cute place to fuck,” Mina apprised, always a little bit too forward with her wordings—her bold personality and style amolous from yours.
Albeit she’s amiable and kind, you still couldn’t quite get used to her blatant forwardness despite working with her for the past 5 months. And Mina loved teasing you about how sensitive you are; already blushing from the mere word ‘fuck’.
“Look at how cute you are, (Y/N). Your face is starting to get red!” she giggled, pointing as you hit her arm, feeling your cheeks warming against the cold winter air. “You know, they say the shy-est are usually the kinkiest…”
“Just leave me alone, Mina!” you embarrassingly whined, slapping a palm over her glossed lips before pushing her away. She lets out a few satisfied laughs before raising her hands up in capitulation, already knowing when to stop before you get irritated at her.
“Alright, I’m sorry, ‘kay baby?” she cooed, plump lower lips jutting out into a pout as she wrapped her arms around your waist.
“You keep teasing me,” you frowned and pushed her stubborn hands off of you before you began walking towards the train station.
“Cuz’ you’re so cute. You’re always acting like such a virgin,” her arm hung over your shoulders and your body sunk forward at the sudden weight.
“Now, is there a problem with that…” you spoke lowly, flickering your sight towards her, wary of her reaction.
“You cannot be shitting me?!” Mina widened her eyes, two elder couples turning their attention on her egregious tone, “I mean like, look at you! You’re so pretty and such a good girl. Who wouldn’t want you?! I want you!”
“I don’t know…I just haven’t met the one.”
“There’s tons of guys who want you, (Y/N)! You gotta be a little bold, get out of your shell if you wanna meet ‘your one’.”
“Man…I just wish someone perfect for me who isn’t a creep would come to me,” you sighed, your hand holding onto Mina’s dangling one over your neck. Nearing the station, you could see Kai, her boyfriend already waiting by the entrance for her—probably heading to dinner together later on.
“You’ll find one for sure,” she glanced at you, a bright reassuring smile on her face, and you returned her one before feeling the weight on your shoulders lifted when she pulled her arm away, then waved at Kai.
“So, how was work today?” the male strode over, his two hands reaching out to hold Mina’s from the pockets of his coat before turning to greet you.
“It’s fine, lots of couples today,” she replied, following as you passed the ticket gate and rode the escalator up to the platform. “And as usual, we got a few single lads asking for our pretty girl’s Line today.”
“Yeah, and you forgot to add that they’re either delinquents or high school boys,” the two couples chortled as you sighed, tired of how you’re always attracting guys who are definitely not your type.
“We’re gonna have to get security for our candy shop because of our (Y/N), huh?” Mina joked, nudging Kai’s side with her shoulder as you rolled your eyes.
Within seconds, the bells signaling the coming arrival of the train started, the train announcer apprising the next destination as Shinjuku-sanchōme—20 minutes until you reach your home station.
“Sorry, (Y/N). Kai and I are gonna ride another train to Shinbashi so we can’t go in with you,” the train had arrived and the doors slid open as workmen and women surged in like sea waves.
“No, no! It’s fine. Happy holidays, guys,” you smiled as you began to follow the crowd into the half-packed train.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N)!” the two bid, Mina waving all the while.
“Enjoy your trip to Ginzan, you two!” you giggled, slightly waving back before jumping onto the train just as its doors began to slide close. The smell of heater and sweat filled your nose and as you swiftly scanned your sight around, you saw most smiling at their phones, probably texting their loved ones, and a few couples giggling in their seats.
Another lonely Christmas, you thought.
Your stomach was growling as you prowled the streets for the nearest convenience store. The sky was already blanketed with darkness and you thought visiting any restaurant would only mount your forlornness, so you figured a quick meal from the store would do for your hunger.
The luminously salient sign of your local convenience store caught your eyes from a distance away, and you hurriedly scorched towards the store. Entering, the cashier greeted you when the automated door slid open with a ding to announce your presence, and you nodded your head with a smile before trodding your way to the back where packed bentos were.
Your eyes raked over the bentos, looking for your favourite Katsudon to find it absent from the display. A surge of annoyance rose in you as your brow knitted into a frown, ‘Can’t even have my Katsudon, huh?’. Grabbing the nearest bento instead, you made your way to the cashier while rummaging through your bag for your wallet.
“Do you want your bento heated up, miss?” the male mooted, a serviceable smile on his face. He caught your affirmative hum before setting the food in the microwave, and silence then transpired between the two of you.
The smell of the heating fried rice pervaded through the air in the wake of the anticipated ‘ding’. The cashier took out the bento and wrapped it in a plastic bag before handing you both the plastic and a card, “Thank you for your purchase, and Merry Christmas!”
You thanked the male and claimed your things before heading out of the store with another ‘ding’, throwing the card into the plastic bag and burying your hands deep in the warmth of your pockets.
What seemed to be your wontedly peaceful route back home suddenly became a path of silent lonesomeness. At that moment, you must be colder than anyone else in Japan. While they have the love and heat of a lover to warm them up—you had no one but yourself.
The walk home was longer than usual and you immediately turned on the heater when you entered your apartment, feeling your limbs beginning to numb. Taking out a few beer cans from the fridge, you set them on the small chabudai along with your cooling packed dinner—ready to scarf down your meal.
It took you an empty bento box and two beer cans to notice the Christmas card the cashier gave you on the wooden floor, probably dropped when you took the packaged meal out of the plastic bag. You could feel yourself getting tipsy as the alcohol set in your veins, rushing to your brain and making it all light and woozy.
“Christmas…Wish?” you read the bold, cursive title aloud, eyes absorbing the contents on the card.
Write a wish on this card and Santa shall grant what you seek!
Aren’t these for kids or something? Why would the cashier give you something like this? It’s obviously fake, but for you to think of a wish…you would love to be a millionaire. Or a billionaire. Or have a pet cat. Or…
Heading to your bedroom to get your pen, you trodded back to the chabudai where the card was, taking your time to ruminate on what to write just for the fun of it. Perhaps it was the alcohol thumping in your pulse, absorbing whatever sense you have in your head as it passed your bloodstream—you found yourself injudiciously scribbling something you normally wouldn’t.
Lose my virginity. 
Fire popped beneath the skin of your cheeks as you stared at the piece of card with your writing on it. “I must have gotten insane…” you sighed, rubbing your eyebrows.
Maybe a wash would clear your head, you thought. The beer was making you drowsy and you’d better have an early night. You don’t take long with your shower and you were quick to set your things aside and take out the trash.
It was only 10 but you’ve already settled yourself in your bed, sleepiness blanketing over your head. Your eyelids began to shut, sending you to an abyss of peace and dream.
Then, there was shuffling. And mumbles.
Your consciousness drew back to reality and through your dazed state—you tried to make sense of the noises. Until you began to sober up, there was no one but you in your apartment. No pets nor roommates to be making up all these sounds.
“Who’s there?” you panicked, straining your eyes through the dark, to find a tall silhouette in your room. A sense of aghast rumbled through your being and a shriek ripped itself out of your throat.
You fumbled for something from your bedside table to act as a weapon, and the most threatening object there was was your lamp. At least you could smash it against the intruder and bolt out of your apartment for help.
And as you tried to rip the lamp’s cord out of the socket, its light turned on—revealing the stranger to be…Santa?
“(Y/N), is it?” the male chuckled, rubbing his nape.
“Who are you?!” you screamed, pointing the lamp at him. “Get out of my house, please!”
“Just relax, man. I’m Santa, here to grant you your Christmas wish!”
“Look, I’m just a broke college student! I-I don’t have anything with me. Just leave and I won’t call the cops,” you tried to reason, already starting to break down into hiccups and tears
“Well, I'm sorry. It’s my policy to not leave a house unless I’ve successfully fulfilled one’s desires. So, I won’t be leaving anytime soon!”
“W-What…?” you were beyond dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the random lunatic standing in your room.
“This,” he pointed at the card from the convenience store. “Here, your wish says…to lose your virginity,” the male cladded in his Santa suit bemusedly read aloud.
“No…! I wrote that as a joke!”
“Well, I don’t take Christmas wishes as a joke,” he lifted an eyebrow, resting his hands on his hips.
“Just cut it out, Santa isn’t real,” you retorted, tightening your grip on the handle of the lamp.
“But I am real,” his voice suddenly became closer, and more lucid, his frame had disappeared from your sight—as if he was suddenly gone and had dissipated into space. Whipping your head behind, you found him just there and a scream cracked out of your lungs as you tumbled out of your bed.
“H-How…Wha—“
“I can teleport, y’know?” he smiled, reaching out a hand to pull you up from the floor. “And I can make anything out of thin air,” his other hand rose to have a random Dior bag in his grasp as you stared, shocked and finding it hard to register the scene in front of you.
“So, you’re really…Santa Claus?”
“Yes, and my real name’s Gojo Satoru—at your service,” he slurred, and you found his voice smooth like freshly woven silk. You were silent and still, eyes widening at the white-haired male in front of you. “Speaking of your Christmas wish…”
Your face burst into florid red as you awkwardly laughed, “Could you please just forget about that?”
“Now, if you’ve read carefully; no changing or refusing of wishes once you’ve written ‘em down,” he pointed at the small text at the bottom of the card, “You must’ve missed it just now.”
Thinking over the situation, something in you cracked as you realised—you were going to lose your virginity to Santa Claus. Your eyelids twitched as you nervously chuckled. This gotta be a heck of a joke. 
“Hey, don’t underestimate me!” Gojo had caught your expression, and as if he was reading your thoughts, his eyebrows knitted into a frown.
“T-Then what are we supposed to do now?” you asked, switching your gaze away and feeling hot embarrassment tickling your skin.
“No need to worry,” Gojo gave a reassuring smirk, “just trust me.”
Alright, trust.
You felt the bed shift with his weight, and he was hovering over you—face mere inches away. His eyes seemed to sparkle like those of a diamond; blue stars orbiting in his orbs, and you note the plump shape of his lips, so visually kissable.
For the second time, as if he had caught your thoughts, he let his lips mould into yours. He felt soft and plump like peach, and he smelled like a merge of snow and warmth.
Your lips danced in the dark, and your body leaned forward towards him as he fell back, something about the kiss was unbreakable. It felt so soft, it felt so good.
You let his hands wander around your curves from underneath your pyjamas, meet the shape of your hips and dips of your waist, then the roundness of your breasts. You let him study your body with the cold tips of his fingers and slip your clothes off when he wanted to.
A soft moan slipped out of your tongue when the cold December air hit your nipples, and Gojo took no time to let his tongue play with your buds. His hands continued to roam around your body, pressing a finger against the wet spot through your pants.
“You fine with this?” he pointed at the way his fingers slid over your clothed core. You wordlessly nodded, drifting your sight away before you felt yourself benignly pushed onto your back, your pants slowly slipping off of your legs along with your panties.
You were bare, in front of a man you’ve met tonight. But at the same time, you felt oddly safe with him. This was only a wish come true and nothing more, you affirmed.
His long fingers began to reach deep inside, and your nerves tingled at where they caressed your walls. His pace switched after a few pumps and his fingers were dextrously pistoning in and out of your cunt. You could hear your erotic slick coating his digits as it follows his rhythm, and your cheeks burn hot in shyness.
His face lowered to your pussy, and his tongue began playing with your clit. A sharp mewl escaped from your lips as his cheeks hallowed from sucking on your nub and his fingers paced up over the gummy spot deep inside.
Pleasure began amassing in your nerves and you could feel yourself brimming over the edge of lucidity. Gojo didn’t stop and instead, fastened his digits in and out of you, the sound of sex was loud through your state of delirium and he was coaxing all the pleasure there was in you.
Then, you spilled. Your thighs tightened around his head, fingers gripping onto his white locks as you’re sent to a world of blank bliss. Gojo peeks up at you as you pause with your lips parted, edges of eyebrows sewn to the stars, and half a wail stayed choked in your throat.
“You alright?” he chuckled, raising his upper body to your blushed face. You didn't say a word and drove your tongue into his mouth, arms locking him closer to you. The shared heat between your two bodies warmed the air around you, and you thought maybe that’s what it feels like to have a lover.
“Yeah,” you breathed, still ever so shy yet for once, a daring timbre crawled through your tone. “I think I’m ready…”
“If princess wants it,” his lips crack into a smile against yours, pants pulled down and hand pumping his length, fat tip lined against your entrance. Peeking down, regret almost settled into your being when you saw his size. Would it fit?
Then, he saw you and reassured you that he would go slow. No need to worry and to trust. So, you did. Bashfully spreading your thighs open for him.
Your muscles squeezed when he first entered, and he let out a long groan with a pause to his hips. It took a few seconds until he began to move, this time with a thumb rolling your clit to loosen your grip. Every inch of his cock stretched into your cunt made you go almost insane—the pain that first came was soon replaced with a delicate buzz of pleasure.
His hips were slow to thrust at first, gentle and soft until your walls had adjusted to his girth. Your little moans began to fill the chilly air when he slowly started to quicken up, and the bed began to squeak along with his rhythm.
“You look so pretty, y’know?” like silk, slinking through the hot air and into your ears. Every time his curved tip kisses your G-spot, you feel blank—blank of pleasure and stimulation. He could see it in your face, always able to read your features so well.
“Mmhp—” you let out a moan when he pulled your hips closer to him, fucking deep into your squelching cunt. Your back arched from the way his cock rubbed against your walls, hands over your mouth to muffle your whines.
“I wanna hear your pretty moans, (Y/N),” Gojo teased, softly leading your hands into his before fucking himself harder, deeper inside of you.
“Nngh! Feels s-so good—haa!” your hips began to move with his, legs hugging him closer to you and the world seemed to be on vertigo. Pleasure pervaded through every single cell in your body and your blood was pumping loud in your ears. “Please, I wanna cum!”
“Whatever princess says,” you could hear the smirk in his quivering tone, and with a few deep thrusts, the coil inside of your womb snapped—and your essence wet his thighs; your shaky moans high-pitched and sharp. “Yeah, pretty girl. Just like that.”
Static shot through your nerves, and your clit throbs against the hot air. Gojo let a thumb circle your nub, rubbing it through your climax as your nails sink into the skin of his arm. You could feel the warm mix of cum slipping out of your lips, running down your skin and into the bedsheet.
Once again, you felt the bed shift, and the warmth that held you lifted away. Through your hazy sight, you saw his figure rising, “Merry Christmas, pretty.”
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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER TWO
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pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader
summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?
warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: this chapter is just plot/character building. next chapter we're getting to the good stuff)
⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅
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The old farm truck rocked back and forth as you made your way up the all-too familiar dirt path, heading in the direction of the greenhouses. You’d already let the hens out to graze and feed and the last thing you had to do before dropping today’s produce off was check on the nurseries. 
Johnny Cash’s southern twang hummed gently over the speakers, your well worn-in cassette tape having been the first thing you reached for this morning. The sun had risen just a few hours ago, and after a few cups of much needed coffee you were ready to go. 
The caffeine had done the lord's work, having cleared your brain of any anxious background noise. You could actually function when you had tasks at hand. The second you slowed down though… well, that was a different story. You were trying hard not to imagine Abby sitting beside you in the beat-to-hell red pickup, her blonde braid tossed over her shoulder as she stuck her arm out of the window. You used to joke about her being part dog, what with her loving the wind on her face so much. You missed being able to reach out and wrap a stray strand of blonde hair around your finger, only giving it a soft tug when those blue eyes of hers looked at you with a little too much heat behind them. 
So instead of looking at the empty passenger seat you busied yourself with turning up the volume, country music crackling over the shot, old speakers. You all but jumped out of the car the second you put the car in park, ready to get your hands dirty and your mind preoccupied.
You couldn’t remember how many times the two of you had snuck off to the greenhouse when your mother had gotten a little too overbearing back when she still lived in the main house with you. There wasn’t a single surface in the old rickety building that abby hadn’t fucked you on or vice versa. 
You walked along the rows and rows of seedlings, looking for any sign of water rot or bug infestations. Everything was perfect, every stem and leaf a vibrant green. Tomatoes, all different kinds of summer squash, and beans of every variety; you had the gift of a green thumb. Your father was more than happy to sign his company over to you right before he passed. All five acres of his property belonged to you now, and with that every bit of responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. You used to resent the fact that you were so young and in charge of so much. Now you were thankful for the constant work. Distractions. You hated seeing your dad’s life work being summed up as a mere distraction, but it was the only thing that got you out of bed in the morning. 
Everyone in the family knew that your dad had wanted a boy when your mother’s pregnancy was first announced. It was a family business, the job having been passed down to him by his own father. Still, he had been ecstatic to show you the ropes. Rather than taking up dance or art like most other little girls your age, you spent your free time elbow deep in mud. You wore the bows and fussed over getting new outfits, but overalls were your daily uniform. 
You wore a pair even today, your work boots tightly fastened to ward away any unwanted pecks from overprotective mother hens. Today was bound to be monotonous, as it always was. All you had to do was repot a few strawberry plants. Maybe if you were lucky a goat would find a hole in the gate and escape. At least it would give you something to worry about that wasn’t Abby related. 
You slunk over towards the sinks, pumping soap into your dirt covered palm to wash off the dirt. You rubbed your hands together to begin lathering but froze when you realized your right hand felt bare. You brushed your thumb against your middle finger only to realize that it was just as you had feared. 
Your ring. It wasn’t there. 
White hot dread locked your limbs as you turned your hand over, the dainty opal missing from your middle finger. You blinked, hoping that you were just seeing things. You didn’t even turn off the sinks before racing back over to the repotting table, as if the promise ring had grown legs and would escape you. Your eyes frantically searched the table, pain shooting through your knees as you dropped down on all fours, pushing dirt and leaves aside to get a better vantage point. Nothing. It wasn’t there. 
“Oh god. No! No, no, no.” You all but screamed, eyes filling with tears as you pulled yourself off. 
You broke out into a nervous sweat, the blood rushing from your head. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening right now. 
You didn’t care if you killed the plants, you ripped the strawberries up by their stems, shaking their roots out as you searched their new pots. 
Every. Single. One. 
Empty. 
Abby had given you that ring just before her last deployment, promising that she would be giving you the real thing once she got back. Of course, she never did. It was single handedly the most important piece of jewelry that you had ever owned, even above your grandmother’s pearls and engagement ring. How could you be so reckless? Why hadn’t you thought to leave it in the car? 
“Stupid! I’m so fucking stupid!” You screamed, tossing a clay pot on the ground in a fit of anger. It shattered behind you, exploding into a thousand tiny pieces. 
You spent an hour sifting through dirt and untangling roots before you finally realized that it was a lost cause. The ring was gone. You’d wrecked the entire greenhouse in your frantic search and the strawberries were just as you expected: dead. 
You slammed the door shut behind you, the old window panes shaking with the force. You had barely thrown yourself into the pickup before your body was wracked with full body sobs. White knuckling the steering wheel you leaned your head forward, completely unbothered as the horn blared. 
How could you lose something so precious to you? It had been the last gift that you had ever received from Abby. The last. There was no possible way to replace something that was that special to you. Her hands had touched that ring. She’d been nervous to give it to you in the first place, anxious that two years hadn’t been enough time to give you something that sentimental. It was the meaning behind it that had you clutching at your chest, your fingernails digging into your shirt as if you could rip your heart straight out from between your ribs. 
She was going to replace that ring once she got back. Give you the “real deal” once she was back home and able to have a ceremony. 
But there would never be a ceremony. Never another ring. Never another Abby. 
Never. Never. Never. 
It felt like you were losing a piece of her, and with that came the revelation- the same one that you’ve already had a thousand times- that she was really gone. There would be no do-overs; no alternate universes where the two of you could be together. The reality of your situation sat heavy in your throat, clogging your airway. 
The loss of Abby had eclipsed your heart completely, and darkness was all that was left. 
You stayed in the car until your eyes had practically swelled shut and there were no more tears to shed. 
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The car ride back to her childhood home was completely silent, the only sound being the engine of Joel’s shiny new truck. She did her best to compliment him on the new purchase, but Ellie was sure that she didn’t sound even half as enthusiastic as she had hoped she would. She didn’t feel like being an actress today. Not when he already knew how bad she was doing. Joel had taken one look at her as she got off of the plane and frowned, grabbing her bags only after giving her a bone shattering side hug. 
“Well I missed ya,” He finally spoke, causing her to jump in surprise. The sound of his baritone voice soothed her nerves over though. “I’ve really missed you annoyin’ the hell outta me at all hours of the day.” 
Ellie cracked a small smile at that, leaning her head into the plush leather seat. The last time she saw Joel was when she had first been transferred to the Kindred Hospital back in Chicago, which was where she had rotted away for a full week. Her eye and face healed up quickly but her back was a different story. She’d been burned badly and had all of the nasty scars to prove it. He had stayed by her bedside for the entire week and had helped her to readjust to being back home in her apartment. The nearly debilitating pain was the only thing that had distracted her from the gravity of her situation back then. 
Her therapist said it was normal to disassociate for long periods of time when the body and mind are put under so much stress. Ellie still felt like Ellie back then, but it was only because she didn’t have any real grasp on reality. It was just a few days after Joel left that she finally snapped out of it. She was one of the only five that survived. She was told that landmines were the cause of so many deaths in Iraq. 
“It happens all the time out there. You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.”  
She didn’t want her unit to just be another statistic. They weren’t just numbers. They were people who had loved ones at home. Loved ones that they had to leave for months and months on end. She couldn’t help but shoulder all of the blame. Ellie was the one that had led them out there in the first place. It was her fault, so why hadn’t she died right along with them? She would have considered herself lucky if she had lost her life right along with them. These were the people that she saw daily. Ellie had developed deep friendships with every member of her unit. She knew the details of all of their lives- the names of their children and loved ones back at home, what they wanted to do with their lives once they were dismissed- how could she not feel like someone had ripped her soul to shreds? How could she not constantly remind herself, every second of every goddamn day, that she was the reason. 
She was a ghost. A mere shell of the person that she once was and she had no one to blame but herself. 
“I didn’t know you liked me being annoying so much,” Still, she turned to Joel and cracked him a small smile. It was more for his sake and less for hers though. “I’ll make sure to turn it up a notch while I’m here.” 
The older man grumbled, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the country roads in front of him. “That sounds like a threat.” 
Ellie could tell that he was playing with her. They were professionals when it came to teasing each other, often to the point that people thought that they were seriously bickering. The short haired female let herself settle into the normalcy of the moment. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the accident or her mental state yet, so it was easy to pretend that things were still…okay. 
So that’s exactly what she did. She began to pretend. Ellie allowed herself to be transported back in time. This was just another Tuesday. She’d get back home and sweet talk Joel into cooking her an after school snack. Then she’d go up to her room and procrastinate doing her homework so that she could reread one of her comics. 
“Got anything good in here?” Ellie asked before opening up the center console. “I’m not gonna find anything nasty, am I?” 
Joel’s lips pursed as he tried to fight off a smile. “Don’t go rifflin’ through my shit, kiddo.” 
Her eyes snagged on a familiar purple book, and for the first time in a while something yawned to life in her chest. Joy. 
“What do we have here?” She pulled out the book of puns, using it to fan herself before she cracked the bad boy open. 
“Ah, don’t start.” He groaned. 
She didn’t take the time to wonder why he had put the well loved book in his brand new truck. Instead of allowing herself to be overcome with endearment she flipped to a random page, her lips turning up in the first genuine smile she’d had in months. 
“Where can you find a tiny coke?” She asked him, turning in her seat so that she could face him, tucking one of her converse-clad feet underneath her. 
“Hey! Get your dirty shoes off of my new upholstery!” Joel reached over and gave her knee a slap. 
Ellie reared back, holding the book of puns tight to her chest. 
“Come on, try and guess.”
He groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned his arm against the door. 
“I don’t know… tiny town.” 
Her nose wrinkled, an eyebrow quirking up at his half assed answer. 
“Shitty guess, but alright.” She mumbled under her breath. “Mini-soda.” 
“Hilarious.” He said sarcastically, turning onto the familiar drive. 
“I think I saw you smile though.”She leaned over to give his cheek a poke, but he swiftly batted her hand away. 
The truck’s all-terrain tires crunched over the gravel driveway, revealing the only real home she’d ever lived in. The house and yard looked exactly the same as it had whenever she was a teenager. She sighed out a breath of relief, not knowing how much well she would have handled any sort of severe change. Ellie opened the passenger side door before Joel had a chance to put the car in park, eager to settle in after the flight. She wanted to shower, and that surprised her a bit. A welcome surprise.  
Maybe things would be better for her here.  
“You didn’t turn my old room into some perverted sex dungeon while I was gone, did you?” She teased as she grabbed her tan duffel bag, easily tossing it over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs. 
He laughed as a response, following close behind her so that he could unlock the front door. She didn’t know why he even bothered. He lived in the middle of nowhere, and they rarely got visitors. 
“I’ve got some guitars in there that are worth a fortune.” He’d told her the last time she’d asked. 
It had been one of the few times that Ellie had snuck out of the house after curfew. She’d been unable to haul herself back into her second story window once she’d gotten back home and had been forced to sleep in the beat up old hatchback that he had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. Breakfast that morning had been… tense, to say the least. 
“I didn’t touch your room… but I did get a dog, so make sure not to let her out.” 
She paused at that, turning to look at him with wide eyes. There had been a strict “no animals” rule back when she lived with him. She never thought she’d see the day where Joel Miller would adopt a pet, let alone a dog. 
“You got a dog?” She was still in disbelief and half expected him to fucking with her. 
“Buckley is a good boy. He shits on the floor sometimes and barks all hours of morning though. It’s almost like having you home.” He teased, bumping his shoulder against hers so that he could shove his key into the lock. 
The deadbolt clicked open, and low and behold there was a dog. He looked like some sort of lab mix, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he anxiously waited for his owner’s return. Ellie was too excited to come up with a witty response to Joel’s joke. She tossed her duffle down on the couch, quickly getting down on her knees so that she could pet the dog. 
“He’s not much of a guard dog, is he?” He asked, closing the door behind him. 
The second that Ellie’s hand tangled into his thick black fur he flopped down, eager for love. Ellie smirked, looking at Joel over her shoulder. 
“I don’t know. He looks pretty ferocious to me.” 
The sudden knock on the door had Ellie’s lips downturning, eyebrows pinching in confusion. She didn’t like the idea of company right now, and the last thing she wanted was to socialize with anyone. For a second she feared that he had called a doctor or therapist to come out to the house to see her. She wasn’t sure if she could take another “come to Jesus” meeting this week, and she was barely holding it together as is. Ellie put her hands on her knees, pushing herself up to stand before she nodded at the door. 
“Company?” She simply asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
Joel ignored her obvious distaste, wrenching the door open quickly before she could stop him. It sure as hell wasn’t Tommy. . . and Ellie doubted that most doctors wore overalls, even in Jackson. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, the golden rays shone through the vast expanse of trees on the property, making it almost look like the world was on fire. The warm glow behind the beautiful stranger made her look ethereal almost, her eyes watery and cheeks flushed. At her feet was a cardboard box packed to the brim with fruits and vegetables. All at once Ellie became startlingly aware of the fact that she looked like absolute hammered shit. Her hair was a frizzy mess, her skin was paler than it had ever been before, and she was wearing an old NASA shirt and dingy sweatpants. If she noticed her disheveled appearance she didn’t show it. 
The smile that she beamed in Joel’s direction didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a strange sense of understanding flickered in Ellie’s gaze as she took a few inquisitive steps forward. Ellie Williams knew what suffering was like; true suffering. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror, her well hidden misery plain as day to the auburn haired female. 
“Sorry I’m so late, Mr Miller. My truck was giving me problems.” Her voice was beautiful. Melodic in a way that Ellie’s wasn’t. 
Spring. . . this girl was spring incarnate. 
And she was lying through her teeth. 
She’d been crying. Ellie could tell. Still, Joel was already peeking his head out of the door, looking in the direction of where she had parked. 
“I could take a look at it for you.” He was being dismissed with a small wave of your hand before he could even get the words fully out. 
“That’s so nice of you, but I’ve got it cranking up again. It shouldn’t give me any more trouble today.” Her hair fell off of her shoulder as she leaned down to pick up the box.
Ellie moved forward without thinking, picking up the heavy box for the girl before her fingers could even grip the sides of the cardboard. “Here, let me get it.” She said, craning her neck up so that she could speak directly to the woman. 
There wasn’t a single thing about you that Ellie found undesirable. In that moment she was completely certain that you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, even with the pain and memory that swirled behind your bright eyes. Their eyes locked, and much to Ellie’s embarrassment, she held her gaze. She watched her with the same sort of silent appreciation. 
“-I think it would be good for her. What do you say?” Ellie hadn’t noticed that Joel had been talking the entire time. 
The woman blinked a few times, tearing her eyes away from Ellie. “Huh? I’m sorry, do you mind repeating that?” She was nervously tucking a few strands of unruly hair behind her ear, shifting in place on the front porch. 
“I was just saying that Ellie is going to be staying out here with me. I think working with you on the farm would be good for her. It would help her to get out of the house, and I know you’ve been pretty busy since it’s just you running things now.” Joel put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Supportive. Non-judgemental. He was reminding her what would be good for her mental state right now, and having something to do with her hands would certainly help to take her mind off of things. 
“O-Oh!” The girl’s lips parted in shock, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I get a pretty early start though, so don’t feel obligated to wake up as early as I do.” 
“I’ll wake up.” Ellie said quickly, nodding her head. 
Her words held a tone of desperation and it had Joel’s head whipping around in her direction. He probably wasn’t expecting her to be so supportive of his last minute idea. She couldn’t be sure if it was because she genuinely wanted to get her mind off of things or if the farm girl’s looks had anything to do with her enthusiasm. Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt drawn to someone like this. Relationships were the last thing on her mind these days. 
“Can you start tomorrow?” The other girl asked, shoving her hands into her front pockets. 
Adorable. She was adorable. Ellie felt her breath hitch and all she could do was nod as an answer for your question. 
“Alright. . . “She began to trail off, backing up a few steps on the porch. It seemed like you were in a bit of a hurry. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 
“Tomorrow.” Ellie repeated back to her. 
She leaned back, lifting the box higher up on her chest so that she could watch the woman get back into her mud stained pickup truck. She only took a step back when Joel started to close the door on her. 
“So you’re actually fine with that? I didn’t think you would go for it, honestly.” Joel rubbed at his stubbled chin, flashing her a small smile of approval. 
“There’s no way I want to be stuck in a house with your ass all hours of the day.” Ellie quipped, walking to the kitchen so that she could place the vegetables on the countertop. 
“I think workin’ there would be good for the both of you. That poor girl has had an awful year. . . I think you’d be good for each other. She needs a friend.” Joel’s voice was somber as he followed her into the kitchen. 
Ellie turned to face the older man, swallowing hard as he leaned against the doorway. He was being a bit cryptic. It seemed like he didn’t want to be the one to tell Ellie the girl’s business. Still, she was curious, and she didn’t want to be blind sided tomorrow just in case she wanted to talk about it. Ellie wasn’t usually nosey, but she had a strong urge to get to know her. 
“What do you mean by that?” Ellie’s first guess was that she had to be going through some sort of divorce. Joel had mentioned the fact that she was on her own now, so coming to that conclusion was natural. 
“No, nothin’ like that,” He cleared his throat before pushing off of the door frame, slowly beginning to unload the box's contents. “She lost her girlfriend and her father this year. She’s the kindest girl. . . you’d never know how much she’s sufferin’ based on how she acts.” 
“Oh.” Ellie frowned, having realized that your mourning must be the reason for your sad, sad eyes. She understood how it felt to lose so many people so close together. Better than anyone, really.
“Oh.” 
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lightblue07 · 4 months
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Birthday boy | CL16
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Little!Charles Leclerc x Princess Of Mónaco! Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It's Charles's birthday and, as his best friend, it's your duty to give him the best gift. Except when you arrive, your gift seems insignificant compared to the others.
MASTERLIST
A/n: English is not my first language!!
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Choosing the perfect Charles's gift had the hardest thing she had ever done. Charles was an important person to her. Her first and best friend.
Having met him that day at the castle, almost a year ago, had changed her life so she wanted to give the best gift in the world for him. And there was the problem, it didn't occur to him to give him.
Well, that was a lie.
Millions of things occurred to her to give him, but none convinced her at all. She wanted it to be specia, as special as he was for her. It had taken days just thinking about what to give him.
She knew that being who she was, the crown princess, she really could gift him almost anything in the world. Money was not a limitation.
But she wanted to give him something more meaningful. That's when it finally occurred to her
She was going to make her own friendship bracelets
She bought everything it would take to make them, spreading herself thin. She searched for tutorials until she found the one she wanted to recreate.
She made several bracelets until she was satisfied with the results. The bracelet was red, with a pretty braid and they initials in the middle.
She keep them in a cute little wooden box.
When the birthday arrived, was early in the morning when she woke up, too excited to continue sleeping.
She prepared quickly, aware that the birthday would not begin for hours.
But once she got into the car, several hours later, with her bodyguard, she practically jumped in her seat.
She wait to receive instructions that it was safe to get out when they parked. Once her door opened she ran to the front door of the house
There Harve welcomed her with a small hug and encouraged her to enter.
The house was full of children. Most of them were running from one place to another, she was surprised. Normally it was just the two of them, she didn't know Charles had so many friends.
She ran her small hands over her dress, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. She looked for Charles, but she didn't find him.
Instead, she found Lorenzo and Arthur playing at the Play. She approached and was the youngest, who he had just lost, who noticed her first.
"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, "you're finally here."
"Mom took a long time to say goodbye to me. Have you seen Charles?" She asked
"He's probably in the garden," Lorenzo answered. "Do you want to play with us?"
She denied and thanked "I'll look for Charles."
She walked away and went straight to the garden. Trying to find him in the crowd of children.
She caught her eye at the garden decorations, they were from Ferrari. She also saw the gift table in the corner and suddenly she looked a little intimidated by the size and quantity. Most were large, some still wrapped in their papers, but others that had already been opened looked expensive. They weren't, but his little mind couldn't understand it.
Her eyes found Charles playing with his friends.
She looked at the small box in her hands and she felt stupid and a little embarrassed.
She took several steps back and walked towards one of the guards who were guarding her from afar. She gestured for him to lean down from her so she could whisper in his ear.
"Can you bring my parents' gift, please?"
Her parents, naturally, bought a separate gift. They both hadn't thought her bracelets were an appropriate gift and bought her a new karting helmet personalized with Charle's initials.
"Of course, princess" the guard stood up and spoke into the radio he had.
In less than five minutes the gift had been placed with the others and she kept hers in her coat pocket.
She came back in, going to look for Pascale to help her with whatever she needed.
To be honest, Y/n loved his mother. But she didn't have much free time outside of her obligations and instead, Pascale always seemed happy to teach them new things, like how to cook.
She entered in the kitchen where Pascale was with some family and friends chatting. The woman looked at her and smiled.
"Y/n! Come closer!"
Charles looked at the garden entrance every few hundred minutes waiting for Y/n. She was supposed to arrive early, the party had already started quite a while ago.
He then saw some of the guards at the main gate in the distance and frowned.
He apologized to his friends, promising that he would play again soon.
He entered the house and knew immediately where he was from the bodyguards surrounding the kitchen door.
You were with his mother.
Just the thought made him frown.
All year long, he had had to put up with his family monopolizing your attention. From Arthur and Lorenzo wanting to play with you, to his mother who had practically adopted you.
I could handle it any other day, but today was his birthday, a whole day dedicated just to him and it was right where he wanted your attention. Pascale had mentioned many times how jealous Charles got when he had to share Y/n.
Charles entered the kitchen and finally found who he was looking for. He approached her with a frown.
"I thought you hadn't come" he spoke, without greeting her first "it's my birthday" he pointed out the obvious.
"I know that"
"You're supposed to be with me."
Y/n got off the chair she had been using and walked over to him. She hugged him like she always did."Happy birthday, Charles" she said.
"Come with me" he took her arm and left the place. He started walking to his room, away from everyone. "I want my gift, you've been talking about it all week and I can't stand my curiosity anymore."
Y/n hit his arm playfully. “You brought me here just so I could give you a gift?” She joked "what a freeloader you are."
Charles took the hand that had hit him and squeezed it. "I brought you here because you hate crowds." He replied, "And of course I want my gift, you've been excited about it all week."
"It's with the other gifts."
One of the guards who had heard the conversation appeared with the gift in they arms, leaving it on the bed.
Charles was surprised by the size, he opened it carefully and noticed a black box. He put the wrapping aside and opened the box. He was surprised to see what it was.
He turned to her, who had also come closer to see him, and hugged her.
"It's perfect, Thanks"
They separated and she smiled at her happiness.
"I'm glad you like it, Charlie."
"But this is not your gift," he stated confidently. Y/n opened her mouth to say something and closed it without knowing what to say "I know you and I know that this is not the gift you thought for me."
"My parents chose it," she confessed.
"I know," he nodded, "so? My real gift?"
"I thought it was going to be a good gift, but it's not. It's stupid and childish"
"Anything that comes from you is worth having"
Y/n sighed and took the small box out of her jacket and handed it to him. Charles took it and opened it with excitement.
He smiled big when he saw the bracelets, but he smiled even bigger when he noticed they were matching bracelets.
"This isn't stupid or childish, it's the best idea you've ever had. It's easily the best gift I've ever received."
"Now you're exaggerating," Y/n complained, although she was quite happy that he liked "Don't lie to me."
"When have I lied to you?"
"Never" Y/n sighed and smiled.
"Help me put it on" he handed her the one holding her initial.
"It's the other way around, yours has your initial. That's mine" she tried to correct him, but Charles shook his head.
"I want to have your initial"
Five minutes later they both had their bracelets and were sitting on the edge of the bed. Charles was the first to stand up and pulled her hands out.
"Come on, we'll eat something sweet. I asked mom to make those cookies that you like so much. Although I don't know why."
Y/n laughed at his disgusted face and followed him without complaining, because of course, she would follow him to the end of the world.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 month
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hi babe! was wondering if you could write something abt hotch + reader having their daughter’s first birthday and all of the team is there and it’s so cute and we get big brother jack.
maybe it including light bickering between them but it’s so clear they love each other so much still and it really is just pointless bickering. something fluffy for sure.
up to you! i trust your wonderful writing , thank u bunches !
- 🕷️ [is this anon emoji taken yet? oops if it is!]
take the bench
AHH that's so adorable 🥹 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, domestic banter <3 and aaron being very dad <3
"are you kidding, look how cute!" you exclaimed, holding up the little outfit for all to see. your daughter's tiny hands immediately made a grab at it. "this is perfect for spring."
"after two boys, i can't express enough how fun it is shopping for a girl." jj gushed, resting her chin comfortably on her hand. "new section of the store unlocked."
all had gathered for baby girl's very first birthday, and it's been quite the eventful afternoon. lively conversations, a plentiful spread of food, cake on the horizon.
currently your daughter was sat comfortably on your lap, while you orchestrated the whole present-opening extravaganza.
at her young age, she could pull the tissue paper out of the gift bags as instructed, you and jack helped with the actual paper ripping as needed. whether it was you tearing off a starter piece, or jack proudly fulfilling his big brother duties - simply unwrapping it entirely himself and excitably showing his sister what she had received.
and meanwhile, aaron had the most dad job: trash bag duty. it was right up his alley naturally, being sure to punctually collect the scraps of paper before they touched the ground; preventing a mess at all costs.
which ultimately, led up to a new game.
"jack," aaron grabbed his son's focus, holding the bag open and jack caught on instantly. he grinned, balling up and throwing the tissue paper in hand in aaron's direction.
it started off gentle; quiet cheers when jack made the shot, not to mention the growing smiles on both ends. but then it soon turned into them firing off at each other, a bit too aggressive in the constraints of the living room. jack's laughter heightened with each throw, and henry even began to join in from time to time.
while still enamored by the gifts, all thanks to her brother and father's volume, baby girl's attention was quickly drawn to them. she let out a high pitched squeal every time wrapping paper flew over her head and through the air, attempting to wiggle her way off your lap.
as much as you loved aaron and jack carelessly enjoying themselves, and the addictive giggles emitting from your daughter, you also didn't want to take the focus away from everyone's generous gifts. they had spent time, and money, and deserved the proper recognition in return.
"aaron." you warned lightly, raising an eyebrow when his gaze shot to yours - a silent, but loving nonetheless, quit it.
"alright bud," aaron caught the last makeshift ball from jack with his hand, shoving it into the trash. "take the bench. the ref is giving me that look."
"but dad-"
"you heard me. and your mother."
jack let out a small whine, but promptly complied. he returned to the stack of his sister's presents, shifting through and looking for the next one to give her.
"for someone on clean up duty, you sure are making quite the mess." you teased once you caught aaron's eyes again, jack placing the next gift in front of you, "a larger one, if i may add."
"mess isn't in my vocabulary." aaron quipped right back, a delightfully smug look on his face. "you shouldn't be the one talking."
you cocked your head to the side, comically, "oh?"
"who's side of the closet is currently exploding?"
"who's sock drawer has seen better days?"
"the parents are fightingggg." derek stretched out his voice, murmuring humorously under his breath and nudging penelope with an elbow. while the soft tone, his statement was for all to hear.
now, it was your turn to (lightly, as to not jostle baby girl) chuck a ball of wrapping paper at him. derek ducked, barely, laughing loudly as he straightened his posture back upright.
"good try, but not good enough mamas. you gotta work on your aim."
"see, i'm not making a mess." aaron teased as he came near to grab it off the carpet, taking a detour as well to give your lips a quick peck. "you have that title perfectly under control, darling."
you playfully rolled your eyes, a smile dancing its way onto your lips. aaron couldn't resist the sight, kissing you once more. "oh bite me, hotchner."
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idyllicidols · 3 months
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Desire.
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Shin Yuna. The world sees her as a world famous idol, a paragon of beauty of grace. An individual to look up to, a person to aspire towards. Some might see her as untouchable, in a social sphere somewhere near the clouds. But she is more than just an idol with a hectic schedule and a busy life. Yuna is a real life human being, and every human has their flaws, their desires, their dark secrets that they need to keep hidden from the world.
And right now Yuna sure is living up to desires.
"You gonna do it? You gonna cum on my face?"
There she is, the picture perfect idol, sitting on her feet, naked as the day she was born. Surrounding her are three hand selected males, her hand vigorously pumping the cock directly in front of her. Yuna's eyes are firmly set on the glistening knob that her hands are wrapped around, her fingers nimbly moving from tip to hilt, her thumb digging into the meat and tugging and massaging with ferocious intent.
The other two aren't just standing idly by—they're groping and spanking whatever they feel like, an opportunity like this one is unheard of, but a gift Yuna loves to indulge. You see, underneath that cute and bubbly personality, and beyond all her flawless photoshoots and iconic concerts, the fact remains that Yuna is, above everything else, a cock obsessed slut.
The feeling of multiple hands and several hard, throbbing members grazing her petite body always fills Yuna with a pleasure that no amount of her fingers can ever truly match. The pinching of her nipples, the light and harsh spanks to her ass, the feeling of a cock throbbing in her hands. All of these things send her reeling into euphoria.
"Do it! Cum on my face. You gonna make me work for it? Do I have to suck you off? Make you cum by slurping your juices? My hand not enough?"
Her questions comes with a gentle lick to the underside of his shaft. It makes the cock twitch violently in Yuna's firm grip. He's already reaching his climax, that much is evident to Yuna. The only thing she needs now is for him to vocalize.
"I'm gonna... Yuna, I'm..."
"Come on, babe."
With a guttural moan, Yuna feels her cheek being covered by a blast of sticky warmth, followed by spurts of cum across her lips and chin and nose.
She looks down, mouth gaping, tongue hanging out, eye's narrow. The feeling of the sticky substance smeared over her skin, a marking that has her feel warm all over.
"Who's next?!" Yuna moves away from the well spent man, turning her attention to the other two behind her. One has his hands clasped to Yuna's ample ass, the other never stops roughly groping and grabbing her tits, pulling her nipples this and that way.
Yuna doesn't even know these lucky bastard's names—and that's precisely the point. All she knows is that they're some of her biggest fans, and because Yuna's not one to disappoint her supporters, the only reasonable thing for her to do is invite them back to her hotel room for an honest to God gangbang.
No real names, no exchanging numbers. Just a night of fun.
It's Yuna's idea of an ideal way to unwind before an important gig, and she's taking it upon herself to fully indulge.
"You know I offer more than just hand jobs right? My mouth, my pussy...my ass."
Yuna puts some emphasis when she says the word ass—she knows how taboo it is, to be an idol who loves to be fucked in her forbidden hole. Tempting over eager fan boys is such a power rush to Yuna, especially since she always gets what she wants in the end. And tonight will be no different.
Not only does the sudden spurt of her words catch the other two guys off guard, so do her slender fingers, that have already found their way around the nearest cock.
She looks up into his eyes, practically staring into his soul.
"So what do you say sweetheart? Which hole do you wanna fuck? Do you want my mouth? Is it my pussy you craving?"
Yuna smirks.
"Or maybe," her other hand slowly reaches to her asshole, "you're gonna shove your cock right here and treat me like a total anal slut."
She isn't quite touching her tight hole, but her fingertips hover tantalizing close. Close enough to make the guy think of exactly what she's describing, all the dirty details, from start to end. And the mere thought is starting to make him go crazy.
"Have you ever done anal before?"
Her soft and playful tone is hard to resist. This entire experience has left the guy totally speechless. He shakes his head, unable to verbalize any words of any kind.
"Well what do you say Hun? Wanna pop your anal virginity with a world famous superstar?"
Yuna doesn't even give him a chance to answer—she bends down on the bed, ass up face down, spread apart in a position that leaves her totally open to her new fuck buddies.
He watches in absolute shock and disbelief as Yuna playfully wiggles her plump behind, teasingly caressing her puckering asshole in a display that leaves him unable to hold off. He licks his fingers, saliva coating his palm as he reaches forward to insert his middle finger into Yuna's butt. She wasn't lying; Yuna is an anal loving slut, a star whore, and this position is making her squirm. The soft, coos leaving her lips are proof of the immense arousal coursing through her veins. The fact that her pussy is dripping means even more.
"I don't want your finger," Yuna turns back, staring into his eyes again, "I want your cock."
He pulls his finger out with a lewd squelching sound, only to replace it with his cock—hard and pulsating, a sheer result of the slutty actions from the girl splayed out in front of him, seemingly on a platter.
The tip presses against Yuna's eager asshole. She starts to whimper, just slightly, an involuntary reflex as a wave of pleasure fills her veins. It's about to begin, and that moment is like heaven to Yuna.
"Do it," she utters, more quietly now that the tip of his cock is pressing up against her most private place. "Don't tease. Fuck me in the ass. Do it. Please..."
Those few simple, begging words are the green light the guy has been waiting for. A cue to fully penetrate her rear, spreading it open with a searing, heavy thrust. It doesn't matter that it's his first time—Yuna loves to fuck. She loves it in any position, anywhere, in any circumstance. Yuna was made to be fucked and tonight is no exception, that is a fact.
So the feeling of his heavy prick ramming her open, and the sweet, familiar burn that comes after sends Yuna into a total blissed-out state. Even though this is what Yuna was begging for, the thrusts are slow and inexperienced—her new living dildo seemingly afraid to hurt his favorite idol.
"Don't be gentle! Fuck me hard, deeper...please, please! Wreck my asshole!"
Those words are enough. They spur the young man into action, and instead of taking it nice and slow, Yuna feels her whole ass shuddering at the rapid pace her lover is now setting. It hurt. Oh God did it fucking hurt.
The kind of pain that leaves her feeling filled with the greatest pleasure. The kind of pain that reminds her that she's alive—not some brainless idol robot with an image to protect. Yuna is a woman with sexual needs and she's not afraid to admit them.
"Faster, don't stop. More, oh God yes!!" Yuna is spouting out all the right things and it's certainly having an effect. "Fuck me!" Her hands grope her perky ass cheeks, trying their hardest to keep them spread open for the fuckfest raging on in the depths of her backdoor.
Her insides felt great to her new partner, especially as he gets more adventurous and drives her over the edge of euphoria with a thrust here, a squeeze there. His hands are gripping her hips, driving his rock hard length further into her cavern.
It must have been such a fucking miserable sight. The third guy in the room ignored and forgotten, sporting a massive erection whilst sitting on the edge of a King sized bed. Yuna didn't even notice it, nor did the guy currently drilling her ass. But she definitely notices it when he lifts her head and presses his tip against her slightly parted lips. The action catches her off guard, almost. It's just a quick glance and a lust filled smirk, but the quick understanding between them has her open her mouth to swallow the intruding piece of flesh.
"You want me to suck your cock while I'm getting fucked in the ass?! What a joke!"
The man looks dejected. That is until Yuna licks her lips and flashes a coy smile. She shakes her head, waves of dark hair falling around her cheeks and onto her back.
"I'm not gonna suck it. But you can fuck my face. Spit roast me. Make me choke me on your cock, choke me as his big, hard dick fills my little asshole."
Yuna opens her mouth, her tongue laid flat and waiting to be invaded. There's an overwhelming desire to be filled from both ends, a carnal hunger. If that's what it takes for her to receive this much pleasure, then so be it. She just wants her holes stuffed, fucked hard until they're so worn, so well used that her mind blanks into total ecstasy.
Yuna sucks and moans and mewls as he's driving his cock down her throat. Any cries of pleasure from being torn apart from behind gets muffled and lost under the garbled and sloppy sounds of the face-fucking.
She takes his cock hungrily into her mouth, bobbing back and forth, not even worrying about the gagging sensations or the burning in her throat, or the spit dripping from her mouth, nor even her eyes beginning to water.
The taste, the scent—the full sensory overload from receiving both a full frontal assault on her gag reflex and a rump fuck all at once is driving her crazy. Her clit is swollen and sensitive, and everytime she shakes her ass to guide his cock deep inside, her clit brushes against the silk-soft sheets and tenses something tight and coils deep within her core.
It builds, tighter, hotter—and the wetness trickling out of her needy, untouched cunt only aids the thrusts from his eager tool.
Her whole body shakes and trembles. A total body orgasm as she's used and abused by two strangers, faceless tools for her sexual pleasure. They take her, use her, violate and violate, spanking and penetrating wherever they pleased.
And through it all she takes it with grace, glee, and happiness. The pain mixed in with the pleasure was intense. Overwhelming. Every time another palm cracks against her reddening cheeks, every time that she's choked and pounded harder, deeper, it leaves her begging for more. Every thrust from either end sends another surge of the hottest, fiercest tingling through her veins. Yuna's completely submerged into the moment, so lost within it. A cocktail of sheer masochism and perverted need to be nothing but an object for her boys' enjoyment.
Then it happens, with another hard thrust into her slutty backdoor, everything snaps—and Yuna screams into a prolonged, euphoric moan. She cums, and she cums hard. Her second one in such a short space of time. It's so intense—so overwhelming.
It takes a whole minute before the world starts to spin again, the rush and adrenaline is almost too much, the double penetration pushing the boundaries and making Yuna realize how she could die right here, right now, and still not care. She almost forgets she's an idol for a moment, the label seeming so alien and irrelevant as the rest of her facade disintegrates along with her mind and body, dissolving under a sea of pleasure. Slowly fading as her partner finally bursts with an eruption of hot, thick, cum, coating her insides, filling her ass until it can hold no more and starts leaking out onto her skin and the plushy fabric of the covers.
The constant moans of joy must have been too much for the man occupying her throat. Cuz shortly after her ass is stuffed full, so is her mouth, spurt after spurt, sending Yuna straight into an orgasmic daze.
It's incredible—such a heavenly, amazing, thrilling and powerful feeling of a double load pumped into both of her holes.
She swaps from feeling like an object, a fuck toy, something to be used and abused, to just Yuna. Yuna who craves pleasure, needs love, and wants a feeling of validation that she's doing her very best to fill up with constant sexual trysts and promiscuous nights. It doesn't work though, because she can never truly be satisfied. No man, no orgy, no gangbang has ever been enough, never even been close enough. But when it's all over, these times, these moments are what Yuna lives and breathes for.
There's four bodies on the bed, laid out and completely wrecked—Yuna, the man with the enormous cock that spread her anal walls, the man that got the handjob of a lifetime from none other than Yuna herself, and the forgotten dude who eventually got to fuck her throat. Yuna can barely see or talk after being ravaged, but even still she's smiling like the cat that got the cream—because in essence, she had three extra large creamy loads.
It's not enough, no amount of cock could ever satisfy Yuna, but this is good enough for tonight. Tomorrow brings another night. Another night to find a nice gentleman to stuff her pussy that was left unfulfilled, left on the verge, twitching and ready to burst. But tomorrow is a worry for the future—now is the time for rest and relaxation, for recovery.
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seospicybin · 7 months
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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.
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PART I
Lee Know x reader. (s)
Too Hot To Handle Masterlist
Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (10,8k words)
Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Feel free to send feedback! x
Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.
YOU: I'm always on the hunt. I'm always looking for the next exciting thing [giggles] I know I may sound conceited saying this but... I usually get what I want [bites lip] Well, I'm beautiful, I'm fun, I have a great body... they can't say no to me [winks] get ready 'cause I'm coming in hot!
-
Having all these eyes on you the moment you walk in is nothing less than your expectations.
You used to get stared at by people, it's something that you've been dealing with after you went through puberty. For one, you don't have either the big boobs or the ass, your body is... average. But people still stare at you like you have all of that on you.
That's when you learn that sex appeal doesn't have anything to do with your appearance.
You can engage in a boring conversation with someone and they'd still find you sexy. Sex appeal is a gift, a very lethal gift.
"Hi, everyone!" You sweetly greet them with an elegant wave of hand.
"Girl, you're really cute!" One of the females says.
You smile even though you prefer to be called anything but cute, coming from her makes it sounds like you're small and not a threat to them.
However, a compliment is a compliment and maybe she meant it in a good way.
"You too," you return the compliment with a quick cheek-to-cheek kiss.
Skipping the females, you go straight to introduce yourself to the male guests, "Hi, hello!"
There are three of them, blonde, brunette, dark-haired, chocolate, vanilla, and caramel. They got everything in here and you can't decide which one you want to taste first.
"Jai!" The dark-haired says. The tattoos covering his left sleeve catch your attention.
You know that accent everywhere, "Australian. I like it," you say with a flirty smile.
You turn to the next one, "And you are?"
"Luca," he answers with a rather different accent.
It's hard to tell but he's tall with a very well-built body, it's safe to say he's an athlete.
"Do you play sports?"
"I'm a professional footballer," he answers.
"Soccer?" You ask for confirmation because football means a different sport in a few countries.
He nods, "Do you like it?"
"Well, I like what I'm seeing," you shamelessly reply.
It amuses him so much that he laughs, "I mean, soccer," he corrects himself.
"Only when you're playing," you answer without a beat.
You move on to the blonde one that has the biggest body out of the three. It's hard to miss those abs even with his oiled body reflecting the sun at you.
"Bryan," he introduces and doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek.
"You're so big," you say in awe.
"The bigger the better?"
You grab a glass and let him pour you one, "Well, cheers to that!"
-
YOU: Oh... [fans your neck] They're all so hot. Not sure I can survive in this heat.
-
It's better to consider the other female guests as your friends rather than competitors.
They're all attractive and have their own charms, it's not like you're here to compare looks. You're here to have fun in a show called Pleasure Island.
From the name of it, you can imagine all the fun you can have and hopefully, get some action in the process.
The next male guest who enters the villa is a bit shorter than the previous ones, he has long curly hair and a great body.
He comes in your direction and introduces himself to you first before anyone else.
"I'm Jack!" He says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.
"Hi, you have a nice smile!" You say.
"I love your smile," he flirts back with a subtle wink.
He leaves quite an impression on you, he has wild youthful charms.
-
YOU: Jack is cute. He'll make a cute boy toy. If you know what I mean.
-
It comes down to the last guest.
Your eyes are already busy silently checking them out while sipping your fruity cocktail but how can you say no to another body you can ogle on?
This guy sure has a lot of confidence in him. Wide strides, a sly smile, and a face that would make Michelangelo rise from his grave just to immortalize it into a sculpture.
Sadly, he only introduces himself briefly to everyone from the other end of the group of people lining up to face the camera.
"I'm Minho," he shortly announces his name with an enigmatic smile that would make Monalisa run for her money.
There's something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He got the body, and the face, he even got that improved, sexier version of The Kubrick stare.
You quietly watch him as he speaks to a girl with rosy cheeks, ginger hair, and a Scottish accent, you believe her name is Maisie.
Something about him makes you can't look away. A part of it must be because he's pleasing to the eyes and the other part is... You are simply attracted to him.
It feels as if he knows he trapped you in his magnetic field, he catches you looking.
Instead of looking away, you stare deeply into his eyes and sending him signals that you're indeed attracted that you can't stop looking.
Before it turns into an intense staring contest, you slyly smile and raise your glass at him for a toast.
He slightly raises his glass as well and sips it without breaking his eye contact with you.
That means signals received so let's see if he gets them right.
-
YOU: Minho is dangerous but who likes to play safe anyway? Definitely, not me [smirks]
-
"I like Jai. He's hot..." says the beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair, Agnes.
It's obvious that she'll be the main character of this show. She's hot, very likable, and has a perfect smile that would get her teeth-whitening ads.
"What about you?" She asks the tallest girl with legs for days, Zara.
Her dark skin glows under the sun and her curly hair flows down her back, radiating that goddess beauty.
"I like Bryan. I like big boy," she answers.
"And apparently, you like vanilla too, huh?" you playfully add.
Everyone cracks a laugh at your witty response and accidentally takes your turn to answer, "I like Jack, he's cute. I like cute boys."
-
YOU: Jack is the safest choice for now. I have my eyes on Minho too but I want to check the competition first.
-
"Yeah, he is, I think he's the youngest of them all," the one with midnight hair and light brown eyes, Alia.
Maisie nods in agreement, "But I got my eyes on Minho," she says.
The first competition appears and you keep your face straight, playing dumb.
"Oh, good choice!" You calmly respond.
"Did you see his face? He's so beautiful, like a Greek God!" Maisie says with a dramatic sigh.
"And his body, ooh..." Alia adds, overwhelmed by just the thought of Minho.
"Oh, you like him too?" Maisie asks, faking her surprised tone.
"Yeah, I'm going for him, he's so my type," Alia daringly says.
Forget what you said about them as your friends!
Maisie and Alia are your competitors now but you're not going to declare a war just yet. For now, you want to gather as much intel as possible to assess the probability of winning against them.
-
YOU: Minho is quite the ladies' favorite I see.
-
You're the last person to come into the bedroom and everyone seems to have chosen their territory.
There are five beds anyway, you're not afraid of not getting one and you're alright sleeping with anyone.
Maisie can have her victory when you see her getting onto Minho's bed.
You sit on the sofa looking away and when everyone else is busy chatting with each other, you look at Minho's direction laying down with hands tucked under his head.
Once your eyes make contact and lock in a gaze, you keep staring into his eyes with your thumb tugged between your teeth.
When you deem he gets the message as he flashes you his signature half-smirk, you look away and shift your attention to someone else.
"What's good, Jack?" You ask him who's looking lonely on his bed.
"You," he answers.
"I think I'm more than just good," you tell him with a flirtatious laugh.
"There's only one way to prove it," his eyes that keep looking at anywhere but your face tells it all.
-
YOU: Jack is just so... feisty? He's so young, so eager. He's like a rabbit, ready to have sex 24/7. A jackrabbit.
-
The theme for tonight's party is Greek Gods and Goddesses.
The males are wearing togas while the females are wearing white and gold dresses with less fabric and high slits on them. You put on a dress with a plunging neckline and a golden headpiece on the crown of your hair. Not forgetting to put layers of lipstick on because nothing arouses men more than seeing red-painted lips.
The male cheers when all the females are descending the stairs to the beach where the party is held. There's a bonfire, glasses of cocktails ready for everyone to grab, and platters of food arranged so beautifully to snack on.
To get it started, music is blasting through speakers so everyone can warm up with a dance, gyrating and humping against each other and whatnot.
You notice Jai and Agnes already got things going on as you caught them kissing in between changes of songs.
While Jack is hopelessly trying to get something out of you for a while.
At one point, you let him rest his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, dancing and rubbing yourself against him as a little treat for him.
-
YOU: Everyone is looking so hot, so divine... the sexual tension is rising and the night hasn't even started yet.
-
The music abruptly stops playing and everyone is told to sit down while Jack is taking center stage, announcing a game everyone is going to play.
"Nectar is the drink of the Olympian gods but unlike them, we have a new way to drink it!" He begins by sharing a little knowledge of the Greek mythology.
You have zero idea what it's got to do with a game everyone is about to play.
"Everyone is going to stand here and let the other Gods or Goddesses drink the nectar from their bodies," he explains, pointing to a bowl of honey on the table.
A few of them coo in excitement and probably start thinking about what they're going to do with it.
"Nothing is off-limits! It's whatever, wherever, whoever you want to do," he playfully remarks.
Bryan is the first one to take his turn and he stands there with his big body, looking like a true Greek God in his toga and crown.
You see that Zara wastes no time to take her chance, taking a spoonful of honey and letting it dribble down his abs. She drops to her knees to lick the honey clean on his glorious abs.
"Whoo!" You howl and applaud her because she sets the standards so high already.
She doesn't miss the chance to kiss him after, getting his big boy just like she planned. Now that's hot!
It gets crazier with each turn and you want to have fun as well, ultimately, you want to show everyone how to get it done.
It's Agnes's turn. You don't usually have a thing for blonde but she's pretty and she'll make a great conquest.
Before Jai can have his chance, you dash toward her and brush her lips with honey right with your finger. She has soft lips and you're so eager to taste it.
You lean in and passionately kiss her, showing off your skill in kissing and giving everyone a little show. Just as expected, kissing her only convinces you that girls are better kissers.
"Oh, damn!" You faintly hear one of the males exclaim.
Agnes gasps as she lets go of the kiss and suddenly, Jai takes over from you, afraid that you'll take her from him.
-
YOU: It's a party. I want to have a lot of fun and kiss everyone.
-
You return to your seat with a triumphant smile on your face, on the way, you shot a glance at Minho to dare him.
However, both Maisie and Alia didn't get any from him. You start to wonder if he's going to kiss someone at all or not. When it's Minho's turn though, Maisie is excitedly put honey on his neck and licks it off for him, finishing it with a kiss on his lips.
Alia takes her turn after, kissing him right on the lips and well, you must admit that he's a good kisser. He's lacking in hand placement.
Sure, you would love to get up there and show him what a good kisser you are.
-
YOU: It's still day one. There'll be lots of opportunities to kiss him and if not, I'll make the opportunity myself.
-
When it comes to your turn, you expect nothing from Jack but he's waiting for it, rubbing his hands together, impatient to execute his plan on you.
"Come, get your honey," you playfully say.
Jack picks up the whole bowl of honey and pours it down your cleavage. You're gasping the second the sticky liquid lands on your skin and trickles down the valley between your breasts.
Putting the bowl down, Jack dives right in and buries his face between your breasts, he's smearing the honey all over instead of licking it off of you.
You admire his creativity for this even though you know it's coming from the pit of his lewd, juvenile brain.
"Oh, yeah!" He lets a celebratory roar but it soon dies down as someone else comes toward you in his confident, wide strides.
Your stomach is fluttering as Minho stands right in front of you, looking like Adonis with his sharp nose and chiseled jaws, got you holding your breath and wondering what he's about to do to you.
Minho is unpredictable which is exactly what you're looking for in a man.
You see he dips his two fingers into the honey and brings them close to your lips, smearing it all over. Your lungs are shrinking the longer you hold your breath yet you can't seem to breathe when he's leaning so close and about to...
Minho doesn't kiss you. Instead of that, he licks your lips and you can feel his hot tongue on your lips. One lick is all it takes to make your heart skip a beat.
When you think he's done, Minho tugs your lower lip between his teeth and gently bites it, pulling at it before letting it go.
As he takes a step back, Minho shoves his fingers to his mouth, a half smirk that signified he just evened the score with you.
-
YOU: Minho got the signals after all [slyly smiles]
-
When the host of the show enters you finally snap yourself out of it.
"Wild night, huh?" He asks everyone.
"Yeah!" Bryan answers the loudest.
"It gets wilder because I have a surprise for you guys!" The host announces.
That gets everyone excited, guessing what kind of surprise they'll bring on the first night of the show. They expect so much because everything has been great already. More girls? More boys? A celebrity guest? A DJ?
"Are you guys ready?"
Everyone is hyped, shooting up from their seats and jumping in excitement like kids on Christmas morning.
"Bring it in!"
The attention shifts to the two staff carrying a big wooden box and placing it in the center. The anticipation is rising and everyone can't wait to see what's inside.
"Five! Four! Three! Two..."
Everyone counting down the second and when it finally gets to one, the side of the box opens, revealing a cone-shaped thing inside, lighting up in purple colors.
Then you hear the infamous ding sound that you know for sure it's coming from Lana, the ultimate cockblocker.
Your excitement fizzles out in a second and drop your head on your hands, "Oh, fuck!"
Maisie squeals while Agnes shrieks in horror and the rest are wondering what is that thing, oblivious to the fact that they're about to be forced into celibacy.
"Is that an air freshener?" Jai asks in pure confusion.
"That's Lana!" You say.
"What?" He cringes and is still confused.
"She's going to cockblock us!" You concisely tell him what's about to happen to all of you.
"We're on Too Hot To Handle!" Zara breaks the news for everyone and makes it real for you that you're trapped in this show.
"Hello, I'm Lana, your personal digital assistant!" The cone starts speaking.
"Welcome to the retreat!"
-
YOU: What. The actual. Fuck?
-
"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections."
Alia whines and then sighs, "I signed up for dicks," she lowly mutters.
You lowly laugh at her words, not realizing that you're also laughing at your pain.
"For the last 12 hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."
The more Lana speaks the more you feel like fainting. Can't believe that she threw a party, and got everyone all hot and bothered, delivering shocking news in the middle of it to let everyone know that they can't have a release at the end of it.
"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."
-
YOU: That much money makes me horny, to be honest.
-
"How about I give you $200,000 for you to go away, Lana?" Luca jokingly offers but it falls short since Lana has no ears.
Even if she had one, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, Lana is her own boss.
"However, I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches of the rules."
Looking at them and how wild the things they've done this night alone, you can tell that there'll be not much money left at the end.
"For those of you who need reminding, there is to be no kissing...."
"Fuck!" Zara bluntly curses.
"No heavy petting, no sex..."
"Oh, my God!" Agnes panicking, looking like she's about to hyperventilating.
"And no self-gratification."
Jack's eyebrow raises in question, "What's that mean?"
"No masturbating," you tell him with a sad smile.
He looks devastated as if you've just told him a relative has died, "for real?"
You stifle a nod.
"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes.
-
YOU: Boys make me horny. Money makes me horny. I'm fucked.
-
Everyone in the dressing room is groaning and complaining about the turn of Pleasure Island into No Pleasure Island with Lana ending the party for everyone.
You don't want to be dragged down into the misery pit and decide to finish your night routine quickly, wanting to end the day already.
Minho's bed is right next to the door and he's laying there as if he's been waiting for you.
"You'll sleep on this bed," he says, stopping you from walking.
You tip your head to the side, then let out a low chuckle, "How are you so sure?"
He leans back on his pillow and puts his hands under his head, "because I'm sleeping here," he answers.
Minho is so cocky, so pretty, a menacing force in this retreat and you're intrigued to see what it feels like to sleep with the devil's advocate.
You crawl onto the bed and lay next to him, not showing any signs that you'll fall into his temptations, at least, not tonight.
-
YOU: Well, as expected, the best girl won!
-
The next thing you anticipate is how Maisie or Alia is going to react to seeing you in one bed with Minho.
Minho has his hand resting on your stomach like he's trying to hold you down, not letting you go anywhere even though you're under the cover with him, chatting with Agnes who's occupying the next bed with Jai.
Maisie is the first one to see that her number one guy is on the bed with someone else, she glances away and is left with no choice but to sleep with Jack tonight.
You don't have to look to know that she's throwing daggers at you with her eyes from across the room.
And Alia looks calm about it, she's going to sleep with Luca anyway. Perhaps, she's switching onto his lane tonight.
"No one breaks the rules tonight!" Bryan remarks.
There's always that one guy who's going to protect the money but it's a surprise that it's going to be Bryan.
"Be good!" He warns once again as he looks around the room.
Something about being reminded not to do something though only encourages all of these horn dogs to do it.
You turn your head to see Minho and can't tell what he'd likely do. With most men, you can easily tell everything about them but Minho... he is uncharted territory but it's a good thing that you're eager to explore.
-
YOU: Minho is so perfect and I feel the need to violate it.
-
You're usually jealous to see anyone prettier than you but not with Minho.
Instead of being jealous, you want to admire him, and worship him like a divine being he is. You hesitate to touch him because it doesn't feel real to exist in the same space and time with him.
It's getting dangerous now that the lights are out and anything can happen in the dark.
He turns to lie on his side and face you, with the dim light coming from the sleep lamps you can see his eyes are open and looking at you.
You reach for his hair and put the strand away from curtaining his forehead, "Are you going to be good tonight?" You keep your voice low as everyone else is going to sleep.
His hand finds your waist under the cover and then he answers, "I don't know."
He then slides his hand to the arch of your back and using all of his strength, he pulls you close until your body is against him.
Brushing your hair to the side, he then brings his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "We'll see."
His vague answers only make you feel uneasy but your chest is overflowing with excitement that you can't sleep, even when you're sleeping, you feel alerted with every movement of his body against you.
In the middle of the night, he disrupts your sleep with a gentle kiss on your neck. He then slides down the strap of your tank top so he can place kisses along your collarbone.
The quiet in the room is filled with the rustles coming from this bed as Minho hovers above you, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head.
You believe he specifically chooses this time to see if you can keep it quiet as he places kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss leaves a searing mark on your skin with a few low moans slipping past your mouth.
You don't even try to break away from the hand pinning your hands by the wrists but can't stay still as he's teasing you more by kissing you all over your face, except your lips.
He teased you earlier by only licking your lips and by doing this, he wants to see how far can you go and see if he can make you push the limit.
Minho is a fucking sadist but what can you do when you get pleasure in pain?
He lands his lips so close to your lips that you reflexively open your mouth, ready to return his kiss but he retracts himself, you can see how pathetic you are from the way he's looking down at you.
"Are you going to be good tonight?" He asks you back, then loosening the hold around your hands.
Minho is turning the table back, leaving the decision whether to rule break or not to you.
In that case, he was wrong to think you'd be afraid to be the first to rule break.
-
YOU: Well, I mean... [bites lips] I've never been a good girl anyway.
-
That half-smirk of his is mocking you but he looks so damn attractive whenever he does that.
You hate losing but for this one time, you're going to like it.
"You fucking tease," you mutter to him, putting your hand on the nape of his neck and bringing his head close.
The bad wins tonight and you can feel the burn as both of your lips touch and clash in a blazing kiss that sets your body on fire.
You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies, your breasts squashed between your chests.
You kiss him hard and deep, making the most of it knowing that it will cost you money. Your hands are tugging at his soft locks.
His tongue skillfully parts your lips open and invades your mouth, deepening the kiss to get as much taste as he can. He is one phenomenal kisser and even if you had to die of asphyxiation, you don't want to stop.
However, you still want to live to play this game with him and he seems to have the same plan by the way he slowly pulling away. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss.
You land soft pecks on his cheek and neck, turning his head to the side, You whisper "I let you win tonight," then playfully bite his ear.
-
YOU: And just like that, we're the first to break the rules in the retreat.
-
"Good morning!" Agnes cheerfully greets everyone the second the lights are on.
"Morning!" You mumble your reply, still feeling sleepy with how little you slept last night.
Bryan pinches the bridge of his nose and scans everyone to spot any guilty faces, he looks even bigger topless next to Zara who owns a model body.
"I really thought I was dreaming that I'm in Too Hot To Handle," Agnes innocently shares.
You softly laugh at that and indirectly, at the satire of your own life. You turn to look at Minho, looking so beautiful even when he's just woken up from sleep.
"How about you?" You put your leg over him under the cover, rubbing his shin with your toes.
"Did you dream a sweet dream?"
Minho slouches down on his pillow, looking like he's about to go back to sleep, "It was sweet but it wasn't a dream."
He casually says that like it wouldn't bring back the recollection of how the two of you kissed last night and you're not going to lie, it gets you wet just thinking about it.
-
YOU: Waking up next to him, the first thought that comes to mind is our kiss last night. Gosh... it was so fucking hot.
-
"Didn't you say you like Jack?" Zara asks the second both of you are out of everyone's earshot.
"But I didn't say I only like him," you playfully respond.
She giggles in amusement, "You're a trouble. I like it," she says.
Working out with her at the beach, earning you some tips and exercises you can to get her perfect body figure.
"You got some real competitions though," she says while doing a minute-long plank.
You're running out of breath but manage to answer her, "So?"
Zara chuckles again, "You're not afraid you're juggling two men and going against two girls at once?"
When she puts it like that it sounds like you're creating a problem for yourself. In this retreat, you can't just do whatever you want without getting the consequences considering that you're locked in with them for the next few weeks.
"Well... I like Minho more," you tell her and drop to the mat as one minute has passed.
"Yeah?" She asks for further details.
"But he makes me second guessing everything," you concisely explain.
You turn over and cover your eyes to shield them from the morning sun, "with Jack, it's easier. I don't have to think around him."
Zara turns to start doing side plank, "You're not looking for a good pet here!" She playfully scolds you.
You laugh and follow her lead to do the same, "Unless Minho likes someone else then he's my number one right now."
Zara gently slaps your butt, almost sending you toppled to the front, "that's a good girl!"
-
YOU: It's only day two and the options are still open but I know what I want. I want Minho.
-
It's convenient that the dressing room is empty at this time with most of everyone already dressed and dolled up for the day.
"Did anything happen with big boy Bryan last night?" You slyly ask while she's putting her fake lashes on.
She lets out a long sigh in response and slaps her spatula on the table, "What do you expect from an accountant?"
It all makes sense now. Bryan is an accountant, he thinks about the money more than treating his girlfriend with a smooch.
You burst into laughter and stop applying mascara, "hate to say it to you but you chose the wrong guy to be in the show with."
She glares at you from her table then looks back in the mirror, "he chose to play the good cop so that leaves me no choice but to play the bad cop."
"Ooo..." you coo, impressed with her determination to make Bryan break the rule with her.
"If you need a smooch, just know that I will give it to you in a heartbeat," you tell her with a sly smile.
Luca walks in on you applying sunblock on each other's body and he refrains from getting to his locker.
"What did I walk into?" He confoundedly asks.
As Zara bends down against the table, you lather sunblock on her ample butt then slap at it, entertaining the sole spectator in the room.
Luca is too stunned to speak that he's just standing there with his locker door open, "Damn. Do that again!"
The sight that welcomes you as you walk out of the house is of Minho in the pool with the Maisie and you owe it to her to give her a chance, making it a play fair.
You turn the other way and decide to sunbathe on the lounger with Alia, chatting about some good skincare products since she's done some beauty ads.
After a while, you see Agnes and Jai walking back from the beach. From the way Jai is grinning from ear to ear, you can tell that they did something that cost some money.
"Hey, girls," she innocently greets you both and sits on the farthest lounger.
"Hey," you reply then exchange a look with Alia.
She seems to also get the same impression and straightforwardly asks Agnes about it, "Did you just spend some money?"
Knowing that she has a bad poker face, Agnes licks her lips and stifles a nod.
"Oh, no..." Alia sighs and picks up her water tumbler from the floor to take a sip.
You see Jai is joining Luca and Jack in the pool, it's only about time that everyone knows someone has broken a rule and the others will soon take their turn.
-
YOU: They just didn't know that they're not the first to break the rules, eh? [bites thumb]
-
Zara packed a lot of outfits with her and you get to borrow one.
"I'm going to look so hot Bryan can't say no to me," she remarks.
You must admire her confidence and it's indeed looking good on her, you should have some on you as well if you want to win this competition.
The night is cool with a warm breeze blowing from the sea, carrying the salty air ashore. It's so easy to locate Minho since he's the only one that always catches your eye.
He's wearing a white shirt with the three top buttons open, exposing his chest muscles, and sitting with his legs spreading open.
You feel like dropping to your knees between those muscular legs and... you push the thought away. You focus on the mission you have to do.
One of the things you like about Minho is that he doesn't waste time, he's straightforward and that's what you're about to do, going straight to business.
"Calling for me?" You poke fun even though he doesn't say anything but sipping his drink by himself.
The sofa can fit three people but Minho's thick thighs are looking so comfortable you can't help yourself to sit on them.
"Do I look good?" You take his hand and put it on your waist.
"Not bad," he answers.
He reclines on the sofa, head tilting upward looking at you and that way, you can admire his beautiful face from the top, inexplicably never getting tired of it.
There's no need for words when you can see everything in his eyes, the way he's intensely staring into your eyes with his thumb lazily rubbing the arch of your back.
The tension is there and it's electrifying, you feel alive when you're with him.
"I like your eyes..." you say as you put your hand on his jaw and your eyes drop to his lips.
Minho softly laughs because he knows you're looking nowhere near his eyes when you say it. He puts a finger under the thin strap of your dress and twirls it around his finger.
"I like yours too," he says back as he's undressing you with his eyes.
-
YOU: God! I want him and I'm going to get him.
-
Putting your hands around his neck, you draw him close and put a few inches of safe space between your faces.
Pfft, it's not like it's going to stop you from breaking the rules.
"Are you going to be good tonight?" You ask.
"I haven't decided yet," he shortly answers.
You lean into whisper into his ear, "If you're good then I'll give you something as good later."
Now Minho knows what you mean by being good. That he won't let anyone turn his head or get tempted to break the rules with someone else.
Knowing his nature, you doubt that it will not stop him but it's worth trying. He got a taste of it last night and there's a big possibility that he wants more of it.
You softly kiss his cheek and take his glass of drink from his hand, not hesitating to take a sip.
Let's see how the night goes.
-
YOU: I think it's going to be a good night.
-
Too much confidence isn't good either.
You feel a little bitter when you see Minho openly flirting with Alia just a few feet away from you. A moment after that, he talks to Maisie.
You scoff because he decides to turn it into his game and you know what?
You feel like making him sweat a little, especially with Jack sitting across from you and checking you out long enough that you can't ignore it anymore.
You lay on your side and decide to tease him a little, "Nice shirt!"
His mouth curls into a sly smile, "Nice body!" He shamelessly compliments you back.
Agnes comes into the scene and sits on the sofa, letting you rest your head on her lap.
"How about me?" She asks.
His smile grows wider, "You two are on the top of my list!"
"Really?" Agnes asks in curiosity as she drags the letter R.
He points at you and says, "I'm obsessed with you but I think you know that."
"Whoa!" You respond in awe, surprised by how daring and blunt he is.
-
YOU: I'm not going to lie but I like the attention Jack is giving me right now.
-
You make a space between you and Agnes, patting it as you tell him, "Come sit here!"
Agnes folds her legs on the sofa and also tells him to come, "We're not going to bite unless you want us to," she says.
Jack, like the puppy he is, hops onto the sofa and sits between you and Agnes.
You lean in close to his side and put one leg over his thigh, slipping your hand into his brown, curly hair.
"Not sure about some bites but Jack wants some kisses," he confidently demands like the two of you would easily give it to him.
Agnes looks at you and you look back at her, in a few seconds of eye contact you know that she wants to do it, she shares the same chaotic energy with you.
"Jack wants some kisses, huh?" You childishly talk to him.
Jack turns his head to look at you and puckers his lips.
"Only if you say please!" You tell him.
"Please..." he pleads by adorably dragging the word.
You grab his chin and lean in to kiss him which he eagerly returns with so much passion, trying to show you what he got.
Not wanting to give him too much, you pull away from the kiss and say, "Agnes is a better kisser," you jokingly say to bruise his little ego.
"Yeah?" He says with an eyebrow raised.
"Why don't you try yourself?" You dare him.
Jack turns to the other side and Agnes doesn't give him one second to prepare himself, showing him how to get it done. You take your drink and sip it while watching them kiss in front of you.
-
YOU: I kissed Jack not because I have a feeling for him. We're just having fun [shrugs]
-
It was an eventful night.
Even though you have no idea what Minho did the rest of the night, you don't want to think too much about it, especially after what you've done behind him.
Thankfully, Lana hasn't announced any rule breaks yet and you can sleep in peace for tonight.
You walk to the bedroom in heavy steps and hate that you're feeling scared that Minho suddenly decides to sleep with someone else after being busy flirting with everyone the whole night.
You never know with him and this time, there's no excitement, it's just anxiety. You push the door with your shoulder and find the bed is still empty, you reckon he's still washing up.
Jack flashes you a smile as you get under the cover and it's only making you more anxious. You get startled when the bed shifts as Minho climbs from the other side.
Since he's not that cuddly of a person, you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and snuggle close to his side, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.
"How was your night, my beautiful man?" You ask, your hand gently rubbing down his clothed chest.
"Good," he replies, twirling his finger around the thin strap of your black tank top.
"I can make it better," you whisper, lowering your hand down until your fingers meet the waistband of his boxer.
He looks at you and one corner of his mouth raises into his signature half-smirk, "No one is stopping you."
Bryan catches the two of you being suspicious and points it out at everyone, "Hands where I can see them!" He orders.
Instead of complying, Minho shoves your other hand under the cover and keeps them there.
"Minho, man, come on!" Bryan hopelessly scolds him.
It's in the dark that Minho once again starts his exploration.
He pulls you by the waist until there's not an inch of gap left between your bodies, you perfectly mold into his body as he spoons you from behind.
As he presses his lips on the nape of your neck, his hand traces the side of your body, stopping on the back of your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there.
"I've been good tonight," he whispers to you.
You softly chuckle, not expecting that he'll be asking for what you promised him.
Without turning, you softly slip your hand in his hair, "Really?"
He places a long peck on your jaw, "mmh."
You turn to lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your head, leisurely looking at his beautiful face in the dark.
The plan was you're going to tease him just like he did with you the other night but after what you did and the assurance you got from that misbehavior. You want to show him that you don't want to play a game tonight, or ever again.
Tenderly, you caress his face and hold his jaw as you lean in, kissing him so slowly yet passionately. Minho seems to sense that there's something different about the kiss.
He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there as he returns the kiss to you, his other hand is slipped under your tanktop, splayed on your back with his thumb faintly rubbing the skin.
If only breathing wasn't necessary, you would keep kissing him.
You pull away and press your head close to the side of his head, placing little kisses on his jaw.
"That's money well spent," you comment.
He turns his head to face you and it only entices you to kiss him again but immediately refrain out of the fear of being head-locked by Bryan's giant arms tomorrow.
You sweetly kiss his cheek and lowly mutter, "Goodnight!"
Minho glides his hand up to your neck and looks at you, "Goodnight!"
-
YOU: Honestly, I wasn't thinking of Minho when I kissed Jack but after it happened, it only got to me then that I really like him.
-
When you wake up, anxiety dawns on you.
You feel sick in the stomach when Lana chimes in and lights up in the corner of the room.
"Good morning, everyone!"
You silently plead that Lana would not drop the news this soon. Not when you just woke up from a nice, long sleep with Minho cuddling you all night.
"Morning," you meekly answer with a yawn at the end and accidentally meet Agnes's eyes on the next bed, exchanging a knowing, uneasy glance.
"Today's weather will be sunny with highs of 82⁰ Fahrenheit and there will be zero chance of sex."
Jai breaks into laughter and puts his arm around Agnes's shoulder, "She's fucking quality, she is."
The day barely started, you can already tell it's not going to be a good one. You're counting down the minutes or even seconds until Lana tells everyone all of your sins.
-
YOU: I'm a bit on edge. Not a bit actually. I'm on THE edge.
-
Even after a session of yoga with Alia, doesn't help you relax at all.
You've done this plenty of times before, going from one casual partner to another in the blink of an eye and never feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. You don't know what changed when you're playing the same game and the only difference is that you're doing it with Minho.
It's after you showered and are immersed in the girl's talk while doing your make-up you finally can have a little peace.
"Have you cracked big boy Bryan yet?" You ask Zara.
Zara carefully swipes the brush on her cheekbones to apply some highlighter, "Girl, as if!"
"That big body comes with a tough personality too," Agnes comments, squinting her eyes to draw a neat line of black eyeliner.
"When we cuddle in bed, he locked me with his arms to make sure I didn't do anything," Zara rants, borrowing your pencil liner without asking.
"You should be grateful that he didn't headlock you to sleep," Alia chimes in as she braids her hair in front of the mirror.
You and Agnes are breaking into laughter at the same time.
That's when Lana decides that it's time for judgment. The cone chimes, startling everyone in the dressing room.
"Hello, girls!" She says.
Zara fans her eyes as she just puts on her fake lashes, "What's up, Lana?"
"Please gather everyone to the cabana!" She orders.
You exchange a knowing and uneasy glance with Agnes as your heart is beating out of your chest. Every step you take to get to the cabana is getting heavier the closer you get there.
There's a space next to Minho on the sofa but sitting next to him will only make you more anxious. You sit in the middle between Luca and Maisie, it's safer to be out of Minho's sight.
"I wonder who kissed who?" Luca asks with a haunting tone.
-
YOU: Counting my own mistakes, I know for sure that I broke the rules three times [shakes head in disappointment]
-
Your concern is not the money.
You believe someone else broke a rule or two as well. For example, everyone knew about Jai and Agnes's kiss at the beach.
Also, you're not afraid to admit the ones you committed together with Minho, it's the other ones that you're not proud of.
The sickening sound of Lana coming online makes your heart drop to your stomach.
"Hello, everyone!"
You can't find it in you to reply to her and awkwardly smile in response while everyone else is weakly returning her greeting.
"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to. Those rules forbid sexual contact."
Even though Lana is a high-tech virtual assistant, you can hear in her voice that she's not pleased with everyone.
"Despite this, yesterday, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of $21,000."
There is a mix of shrieks, gasps, and curses happening all at once. Well, at least, now you know you're not the only one spending the money.
"You guys are blowing it," Alia says in disappointment.
"In total, there were seven rule breaks," Lana shares further details.
-
YOU: I contributed three out of those seven rule breaks but who did the other four? [squints eyes]
-
"Time to fess up!" Bryan calls the shot.
Everyone is looking at each other and trying to see any guilty faces. After a while, Minho points at you and calmly says, "I kissed her twice."
Now, that's a man. Minho doesn't falter as he owns up to his misdeeds and even says that it was he who kissed you when in fact, you were the first one to cave in to the temptations.
Maybe it's because of how fast Minho comes clean about it or it could be because of how overwhelming for him to know that two rules have been broken, Bryan only sighs and then moves on to find where the rest of the money went, "how about the other five?"
You gulp air again and pass the turn to someone else. Jai has the worst poker face he can't keep himself from grinning, "We did too," he says while half laughing, "You guys knew we did it on the beach once and did it again last night."
Agnes is looking down on her lap as Jai admits everything and adds an apology at the end, "I'm sorry, you guys!"
Bryan closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter, "Okay then, anyone else?"
Luca who's sitting next to you suddenly raises his hand, "I kissed Maisie last night," he confesses.
That is not what you expect and you're aware that you're getting in between them by sitting there. You didn't know Maisie had given up on Minho already.
"Just once!" He quickly adds.
Maisie even backs him up right after, "We shared a moment and we wanted to see if there's chemistry."
That shocks everyone but Bryan seems to give him a pass for only breaking one rule. Not sure what he'll do when he finds out about the last two rule breaks.
Agnes has been avoiding everyone's eyes and you don't expect much from Jack, he's staying quiet because no one suspects anything because he's harmless and the youngest.
-
YOU: But I have to be honest, right?
-
"I kissed Jack," you blurt out.
There's a long pause then Zara snaps her head in your direction, "What?"
Luca laughs next to you, "Look at him, sitting there all quiet," he says and keeps laughing afterward
A grin blooms on Jack's face, maybe it's the grand scene that he's been pictured in his head that he's not what everyone thought he was.
"Well, it's obviously because I like her," he shortly explains.
He rubs his chin and continues speaking, "And I don't regret that one if I'm being honest."
You've been avoiding looking at Minho's direction but you get the urge to see his reaction, not sure what you're expecting but he looks strangely calm about this.
When he's about to look your way, you hurriedly look away though.
You turn to look at the other culprit who's smiling like an angel next to her guy and you can't go down on your own.
"Agnes!" You call and wait until she looks at you to say, "You kissed Jack too!'
"WHAT?" Zara gasps and then covers her mouth, her eyes widen in surprise.
"Why did you do that?" Bryan asks since she's sitting close to her.
Jai who's sitting next to her looks not pleased at all, leaning back with his hands balled into fists on his sides. You would love to see Minho get a little upset too but when you glance his way, he looks not bothered at all.
Now that the offenders have admitted their crimes, Lana can announce the damages done to the prize money.
"I must also inform you that with these multiple rule breaks that happened in the last 24 hours, I have been left with no choice but to double the fine as of this moment."
Bryan's face drops onto his big hands and brushes his head to the back, making his combed hair disheveled in a second.
"Which means $42,000 has been deducted from the prize fund."
There are moans and groans of complaints but there's nothing anyone can do except try to keep their hands to themselves from now on.
"No more spending!" Bryan remarks, crossing his muscular hands together to form the letter X.
Everyone else is nodding in agreement but with almost a quarter of the prize money lost in one day, you're not the only one feeling pessimistic that there would be money left at the end of the retreat.
-
YOU: That means I spent $18,000 in one night? Whoops.
-
What makes them think that doing bondage in a workshop would help to take your mind off sex?
You're not sure if that's what the workshop is going to be but you see the waxed ropes and that's the first thing you have in mind.
"Today, we're going to learn Shibari," the guest sex expert announces.
"An ancient Japanese technique used to improve intimacy and trust in relationships," she shares with everyone.
Minho and you have no problem with intimacy but with what you've done recently, it seems that Minho is likely to have a trust issue with you.
"It's a bit more risque but it really does teach people how to trust which is the foundation for any long-lasting relationship," the expert further explains.
"Have you guys ever played with bondage, handcuffs, or any type of restraints?" The expert asks.
A few raise their hands in pride and you see Minho as the experimental type, always open to everything. You don't see him raising his hand, he's too busy shielding his face from the sun.
You take the first turn and can't decide which one you want to do, you haven't done this. Picking up the smaller rope in red color, you decide to do the simplest one called the Hand Prayer tie.
Minho doesn't need to be told, he puts both hands together in front of him and lets you tie rope around it.
"It goes around the middle fingers," he instructed.
As expected, Minho knows how to do this. It's a piece of information that both excites and scares you but in the best way.
After a lot of errors, you are finally done and not impressed with how you didn't tie the rope tight enough that Minho has no problem taking it off without your help.
-
YOU: Oh, yep, just exactly what Minho needs right now: tie me up.
-
"Are you ready?" Minho asks as he takes the bigger rope in the color black.
Now that he's about to tie you, you suddenly get a little nervous too.
"No," you answer with a low laugh.
He starts by turning you around, making you stand with your back facing him, not allowing you to see which knot he's going to do with.
"Hands to the back," he orders with his head looming on your shoulder.
You comply right away, putting your hands to the back.
"Shibari is based on power play. When you're the person with the rope, the rigger, you're actually the one who is surrendering and trusting your partner," the expert says as she walks around watching everyone tying each other up.
That's what you're going to do, you're going to trust Minho and he'll be having too much fun with it but he'll do nothing to hurt you.
The second the rope brushes with your skin, you feel a chill down your spine and when Minho pulls them, tightening them around your wrists, you let out a low moan.
Once he's done with the hands, he tidies the ends of the rope before instructing you to lay on your stomach on the mat
You're getting even more nervous as he bends your legs to the back and ties them together.
"Too tight?" He asks.
You test the knot by twisting your ankles together but it doesn't budge at all, "mmh," you hum in answer.
"Good," he calmly responds.
If this is his way of getting back at you then you just have to accept it. You should be grateful that he doesn't tie the rope around your neck.
He then brings your hands and legs together, tying them with the rest of the rope. He pulls at it to make sure the knot is securely tied.
You try to wiggle your body and try any way you can to break away but it's a fruitless effort, you're running out of breath from lying on your stomach for too long.
Minho notices and helps you to turn over, but your hands are now pressed under your body as you lay on your back.
"I can't get out of this," you tell him as he stands, towering over your body.
"No, you can't," he says with a malicious grin.
Minho then lays next to you on the mat, scoots closer to shield you from the sun, and then props a hand under his head as he enjoys watching you helplessly lying next to him.
"You're enjoying this," you say.
That's a wrong thing to say because he hasn't started yet. He picks a flower from the plant near him and uses it to caress your body, dragging the soft petal down the front of your body.
He knows that it does things to you and he can see it from the way your chest is heaving as the flower reaches to your lower abdomen.
Your legs are slightly shaking as he drags it lower and then stops right on the elastic band of your bikini bottom, tugging the flower there.
-
YOU: I must say it's the best kind of punishment. I don't even think it's a punishment [winks]
-
"Why did you kiss him?"
You know that Zara has been waiting to ask you that from the moment she found out about it.
You dab your face with a layer of foundation to get ready for the night, "I don't know. I was having fun."
She gives you a scolding look and tips her head to the side, "Girl!"
"I know but at that time I was feeling like... You know, it was so easy to break the rules," you honestly answer because you did feel that way.
There was nothing intimate about the kiss with Jack, if anything it was selfish of you to spend money on a meaningless kiss. You can see now how foolish you were for doing that.
"But instead of upset, I am so jealous of you," she says with a sad sigh.
You get quiet because you know how hard it is for her to even try to tempt Bryan to break the rules with her.
"He didn't even let me cuddle him," she adds.
It's a good thing that Bryan wants to be on Lana's good side but he disregards Zara's opinions about it, putting her needs aside which makes him just as selfish as you are.
-
YOU: The plan is I'm going to look hot, be a good girl, and talk to Minho. Wish me luck [Crosses fingers]
-
Taking a glass of drink to fuel your courage, you check if Minho is in a good mood before coming and start talking to him.
"Can I sit with you?" You ask for his permission when you usually would plop down next to him without asking.
He glances up and nods, "Yeah."
Minho doesn't talk much and you should be used to his short, concise answers but it seems a little different tonight, there's an edge to it.
You sit next to him and put a space in between, "You look good tonight," you compliment.
Minho is indeed looking good tonight. That's why he model, because everything looks good on him but you bet that he looks better with nothing on.
He tips his head to one side and looks at the dress you're wearing, "You too," he compliments back with a thin smile.
A little attention is better than nothing. You sweetly smile and mutter, "Aw, thank you!"
Before you forget your initial reason because of just one compliment, you remind yourself that you come to talk.
"So... how are we feeling?" You ask, testing the water before diving right into it.
"About what?" He innocently asks.
You lick your lips before answering, "About the kiss."
"Which kiss?"
Your palms are getting sweaty on your lap. It's like whatever answer you're going to give him would be a wrong one.
"Our kisses or...?" He asks again because you stay quiet.
You take a breath and try to slowly explain everything, "I think the kisses we shared are special. I can see that we have chemistry and connection."
He tilts his head low enough to give you the stare, "If that's so then why did you kiss someone else?"
You keep your calm and answer, "That kiss with Jack, it was nothing. I don't have any feelings for him so you don't have to worry about that."
Minho responds with a nod but no words come out of his slightly parted mouth.
-
YOU: I usually just walk away from a situation like this and stop caring about it but I want to make this work with him.
-
"Are you mad at me?" You ask because that's what you're dying to know.
He's been too calm that you start to think that he probably doesn't like you to even care about it but he only replies with a shrug.
"I don't want you to be mad at me because I do like you," you tell him to get an answer out of him.
He stares at you and makes you wait in anticipation to get a response from him. After a while, he leans back on the sofa and says, "We'll see."
You usually like the mystery those words bring whenever Minho says that but not this time.
"'We'll see'? What is that supposed to mean?" You ask in pure confusion.
"I need time," he answers.
You scoff and try to process his answer, "You want me to sit around and wait for like what? A week? Ten days?"
He slumps down the sofa and spreads his legs, casually he says, "I need time to get over it so until then... We'll see."
-
YOU: I kissed Jack because I saw Minho flirting with the other girls so why am I the only one having to wait for him to come around?
-
"Okay," you meekly say even though you're not sure that he'll get over it before the retreat ends.
You think that this is possibly his way to keep his options open or maybe that your fear is true, he doesn't like you that much. You just like to play games with each other.
"Are we still going to sleep in the same bed?"
"I don't know," he replies.
This is probably the right time to cut everything off before you get too attached to him when the options are still wide open and who knows that Lana will bring more guests to the retreat, there are many possibilities so why do you have to trap yourself in such a confusing situation and wasting your time on one guy?
You look away and shrug, "Okay, alright."
-
YOU: If Minho doesn't want to give me what I want then I'll just have to get it from someone else.
-
You're not tired but you're so ready for bed. You brush your hair quickly before going to the bedroom.
You don't look around but going to Jack's bed, you put the duvet away and say, "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight," you tell him.
He looks taken aback but awkwardly follows you as you climb onto the bed you shared with Minho for the past two days.
Agnes is giving you the questioning look but just like everyone else, they don't say anything but let the drama unfold.
You get under the cover with him and turn to the side to look at him, "Are you cuddly, Jack?"
He pauses for a moment then says, "I am."
"I love good cuddles."
"Yeah?" He asks with a gleeful grin and eyes that are filled with hopeful glints.
"Of course."
-
YOU: I told you, Jack is my cute boy toy.
-
You slip your hand in his curls and play with it, at the same time, watching the door because Minho can come at any minute now.
"Your hair is so soft," you comment.
The door swings open and Minho steps inside, stopping on his track for a second to see that someone else has taken his spot.
The brief look he gives you is enough to make you gulp air, he's saying nothing but has to share a bed with Alia.
The silence is suffocating as everyone watches intently every gesture or expression on either you or Minho to get any hints about what's happening between the two of you.
Their eyes are going back and forth because your beds are facing each other.
"Don't you feel a little hot, Jack?" You ask.
"Uhm..." he hums as he thinks of an answer to such an easy question, "I think so."
You sit on the bed and look in Minho's direction, not necessarily seeing him eye to eye. You take your top off, not caring that this will be broadcasted all over the world and everyone can see your tits.
"Oh... fuck..." you hear Jack curses under his breath next to you.
Minho takes a sip of water from his tumbler and you can see that his jaw tensed as he swallows his water.
Once the lights are out, you get under the cover and turn to the side to face Jack. For someone who kissed two girls at once, he's playing safe by keeping his hands away from you.
You lean in close to his pillow, "How was your day?"
He rakes his brain to answer another simple question, "Can't complain," he answers.
You giggle because of how cute he is, how oblivious to the fact that you're using him to make Minho jealous. When you think about the kiss you shared with him, he isn't that bad of a kisser, he was too excited at that time to focus on using his skill.
You kind of want to give him a second chance so you lean in closer and ask him, "What do you think about spending 6 grand tonight?"
-
YOU: We'll see? No, Minho. You'll see.
-
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Careful - Chapter Three
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Three: Turn It Off
Before it gets any better - we're headed for a cliff.
Summary:
Spencer finally get to see his son for the first time, and there is absolutely no denying - that is his son.
Caught up in a whirlwind of love for the boy and navigating the first small steps in co-parenting with you, he accidentally trips into a minefield from the past when discussing Sebastian's conception, and you both realize with baited breath that you might not be over each other.
(Especially not when that lust still burns so close to the surface.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut.
Word Count: 13,400
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing; mentions of the reader being the target of a serial killer; angst/emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; (technically) Spencer being unprofessional by staying on the reader’s case; Sebastian is described to be a combination of the reader and Spencer’s looks, so this does not describe or exclude the reader’s looks/race; the bulk of this chapter is fluff because Spencer is bonding with Sebastian for the first time; most of the warnings for this chapter are because of the smut scene (which is a flashback to Sebastian’s (unintentional) conception) - so warning for smut; (kind of) phone sex; mentions of the reader masturbating; (Spencer calls the reader and she’s touching herself and he realizes it, but there’s not any real dirty talk in this section); the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’; Spencer calls the reader ‘darling’; mention of Spencer feeling emotionally worn down from looking at casefiles; unprotected penis in vagina sex (though Spencer is unsure if the reader is taking oral birth control consistently or not); there is a lack of communication about alternative birth control methods aside from condoms (like plan B and oral birth control) - but both partners enthusiastically consent to having unprotected sex in that moment, knowing the potential risks; creampie kink (not quite breeding kink?); mentions of Spencer eating out the reader after cumming inside of her; there is a scene with a lot of sexual tension between Spencer and the reader in the main timeline. Other than that - Morgan teasing Spencer? (and then having a serious moment with him). And I think that’s it.
A/N: This is by far the longest chapter - I don't know the official length of the final chapter yet, but this might be the longest chapter in the series. It was a bitch to edit, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Especially because I know a lot of people have been anticipating Spencer meeting Sebastian for the first time, and this is the big moment. I'm not gonna lie, when I was writing the first bits of this fic, I rushed to write the moment where Spencer meets Sebastian - and it gave me chills to write it. So I really hope that you guys enjoy it, and you enjoy the sweet moments in this fic, as well as the more saucy ones lmao.
...
Spencer churned with nerves as he walked back up to the house, two gift bags clutched in his shaking hand. 
He had walked around the mall for a long time - partial aimless wandering, partial sweaty anxiety causing his feet to move along rapidly. He felt like everything he looked at was not the right gift to apologize to you with after so long. He felt like it needed to be perfect. 
After about an hour of wandering, Hotch called him and tore him a new one. Apparently JJ had pulled him aside and explained the delicate nature of his situation privately. Hotch knew how dangerous it was to get so personal and emotional when it came to things like this, and he wanted Spencer back at the police station and far away from you. He said that if you needed protective custody, then he would put Morgan or Prentiss in charge of it. 
Spencer didn’t care if it was unprofessional. He begged to stay on the case, to stay with you and watch over you. Apparently you were the only viable lead - with the flowers that had been sent to you, you were the only potential next victim. 
After a while of back and forth, Hotch folded. 
He sent an unmarked car to watch over your house, and told Spencer to hurry up and get back there. He needed to try and convince you to agree to around the clock protection. At the very least, if Spencer was in the house when the UnSub tried to break in, he could catch him in the act. 
The rest of the team tried to farm other leads. They went through the other victims’ lives to see if anybody connected to them had any connection to the firm that handled the preschool applications, if any of their neighbors remembered anybody suspicious lurking around their homes in the days before the murders. 
Spencer spent another hour rushing around the shopping center before he found the perfect gifts for you and your son - his son. (He really, really hoped that he was right about that.) 
He picked up a couple of gift bags - one with a brightly colored pattern of teddy bears eating birthday cake and the other with a more mature pattern of soft roses. He put the gifts inside and rushed to get back to the house before Hotch called him again. 
And now that he was standing on the porch, facing down your door again, he almost couldn’t work up the ability to knock. 
But he knew that he had to face the inevitable. 
He reached out and gave three firm knocks once again. 
This time, what he heard surprised him. 
A loud, squealing giggle, and a round of thunderous footsteps across the floor, slightly muffled by the door. Clearly - the sound of a young child. 
Spencer’s blood rushed through his body like a tidal wave and he found himself dizzy as he stared at the white panels of your front door, anticipation thumping through him. After a tedious moment that felt like four long years, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open. 
Peeking out of the crack - a big, curious eye, and half a chubby cheek poked out at him. 
Your son had answered the door by himself. 
Spencer swallowed down nerves as he prepared himself to meet Sebastian for the first time. 
Upon instinct, Spencer crouched down lowly on the balls of his feet, getting down onto the child’s level. 
“Hey, buddy.” He said, using a light voice, trying to be as non-intimidating as possible. “Where’s your Mommy?” 
Mommy. 
It felt so strange - using that word to refer to you. But yes, you were his mother. 
You were a mother. 
That fact truly hit Spencer like a truck in that moment. 
Unexpectedly, Sebastian then flung the door open fully. It seemed that he had fully assessed Spencer, and deemed him as someone friendly, rather than some kind of threat. 
A large knot formed in Spencer’s stomach then, as he saw his son for the first time. Because in that moment, there was no denying - this was his son. 
He saw his own big eyes staring back at him, reflecting the same epic curiosity that he had at that age. He had your complexion, most definitely your same skin tone. The boy had your sweet smile, your cute nose. Spencer ached as he realized that Sebastian was quite literally the perfect combination of the two of you. His own wild, untamable tendrils (hair that clearly hadn’t been cut for a while) with tones of your natural color in it - your sweetness, your laughter. 
Spencer used all of his self control in that moment to keep himself from fainting on the spot. 
“Who are you?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head slightly, inspecting Spencer with a distinct up-and-down glance. “Are you the police? Mommy’s talking on the phone. She said the police are coming to our house. But she didn’t like that. Her face made a big frown - like when that man at the grocery store asked if she’s ‘free’ on Friday. And I said: you can’t buy Mommy, she doesn’t have a price. You can’t buy people. You buy bananas. That’s why we came to the grocery store, pal!” 
Spencer frowned. 
This was a lot of information to receive in such a short span, and Spencer quickly tried to sort it all out in his mind. 
Technically, he was ‘the police’, but he didn’t want to introduce himself to Sebastian that way if it would bring a negative connotation. Clearly, this was a very observant child - he had picked up on the fact that you didn’t want police protective custody around. (Spencer just hoped that you hadn’t mentioned why you might need that kind of protection around the very clever ears of your son - someone who had interpreted a man asking you on a date as a barter for ownership of your person, apparently.) 
Not wanting to upset Sebastian, he chose to introduce himself in another way, rather than saying he was with law enforcement - which is what he would have done with any other small child. 
“I’m a friend of your Mommy’s.” He said. “My name is Spencer. Can you-” 
Before he could finish talking, your voice entered the conversation. 
“Sebastian! Seb!” You called out urgently, looking for him now that you had realized he was gone from your field of view. 
You came around the corner in a panic and found your son standing there with the front door wide open. Your eyes naturally flickered toward Spencer, and surprisingly, a look of relief flooded your face at seeing him. 
As much as you disliked Spencer for your own reasons - at least someone who wasn’t a predator was with your son. You hadn’t meant to leave the door unlocked. It was just easy to forget things when you were chasing after such an energetic kid. 
“Sebastian, Mommy told you not to open the door unless I’m here with you.” 
You scolded him, rushing to scoop him up in your arms - unconsciously protecting him from the outside world as you propped him up onto your hip, hugging an arm around his back to hold him there. 
Spencer’s insides fluttered at how natural you looked with him in your arms. It was a picture perfect sight: you with his son in your arms. It was something he had been dreaming of for years. And now, for so many reasons, it left a sour taste in his mouth. 
“Spencer is my friend!” Sebastian proudly proclaimed, motioning toward his very new ‘friend’. “You said it’s okay to answer the door for friends.” 
You clenched your jaw, clearly resisting the urge to make a foul comment about this in front of your son. You wanted to correct him and say that Spencer was not a ‘friend’ - that he was far from it. But you held that back, knowing that Sebastian was too young and innocent to be stung by your anger. (Especially anger from a fight that was older than he was.) 
Before you could speak further or insist that Spencer had to leave, Sebastian spoke up again. 
“What’s in that bag?” He asked, extending his little arm and pointing a pudgy little finger toward the gift bags that Spencer had in his hand - items that Spencer himself had nearly forgotten about, swept up in pure awe at meeting his son for the first time. 
“Oh, it’s a gift for you.” Spencer smiled at him, holding one of the bags up toward the boy. “Because I missed your birthday.” 
Sebastian took the bag excitedly, but didn’t get a chance to examine the items yet, still awkwardly trapped in his mother’s arms. 
You glared at Spencer over Sebastian’s head. You thought it was a cheap attempt at buying his affection. Spencer avoided your eye. (If you were a lesser woman, you would have banned Sebastian from having the gift. But you weren’t going to take away his joy based on your own rotting emotions.) 
“What do you say, bud?” You prompted, wanting him to thank Spencer for the gift - even if you thought it was ill-intended. 
“I’m four now!” He excitedly announced, believing this was what you meant. “I just turned four. I had a big boy birthday. So I go to the toilet all by myself - as long as I don’t wee on the floor. And I had a princess at my birthday party, but apparently she doesn’t bring the letters to Santa Claus, the mail does that. Did you know that the U.S. Postal Service was founded in 1775, and Benjamin Franklin was the first postmaster-” 
“Seb, that’s not what I meant.” You said quietly, gently cutting off his unrelated string of ranting. 
Spencer was grinning widely from ear to ear - he found himself so utterly charmed by Sebastian’s bright, enthusiastic personality. 
“Sebastian, you have to say ‘thank you’ to Spencer for the present.” You reminded him, getting his mind back on track. 
“Thank you!” He parroted back. 
“You’re very welcome.” Spencer replied, his cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling. 
You then put him down, and he ran back into the house, excited to open his gift and see what was inside it. 
A tense silence fell over you and Spencer. You continued to glare at him with fury tightening in your jaw. Any joy he previously felt over seeing Sebastian for the first time was completely zapped from him. 
He now felt like a groveling idiot, desperate to get back into your good graces. He felt like the picture perfect life with a perfect family was right there, and he was missing out on it because he had messed up all those years ago. 
“That was a nice try. With the gift.” You huffed out. “I don’t even wanna know what’s in that one.” You said, motioning to the other bag. 
“Y/N-” He said your name, ripe with desperation, and you cut him off again. 
“When did you know?” You asked. 
The question utterly confused Spencer, and when you saw this flash through his features, you took pity on him for once, and decided to clarify. 
“When did you know that he was yours?” You said this lowly, edging on a whisper, not wanting your son to hear it - even though he likely wouldn’t understand what the words meant if he did. (But he was an observant, smart kid. You couldn’t risk him hearing either way.) 
“I did the math.” Spencer told you, matching your whisper. “I knew for certain when I saw him.” 
You let out a rugged sigh. With your tense body language, your tight jaw - Spencer feared that even now, you might ask him to leave. 
For him, that simply wasn’t an option. 
“Look, you can’t keep me from my son-” Spencer said, speaking normally now - he knew that eventually, the two of you would have to tell Sebastian that he was his father. 
He wanted a relationship with his child no matter what. 
“Keep your voice down!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if the small child was some boogeyman who would sneak up on you specifically to eavesdrop on the conversation. 
From the distant sounds of giggling and some playful voices - it sounded like he was far too busy playing with his toys to care about what was going on between you and Spencer. 
“This changes nothing.” You added on bitterly. “You still have no right to be around me after what happened, and-” 
“You’re seriously telling me that this changes nothing?” Spencer barked back, intensely offended by that assessment. 
You refused to look Spencer in the eye, and he barreled forward, believing that he could convince his way in the door with his stubbornness alone. 
“He is my son.” He spit back sharply, so much passion in the words that it gave you chills. “He is a part of me as much as he is a part of you. Even if - even if you hate me,” Spencer said, unsure if that was the right term, and feeling a rock in his stomach when you didn’t protest. “Even if you hate me now and always will, I still have a right to be in his life.” 
Guilt flashed across your features. You had always regretted not contacting Spencer in order to let him meet Sebastian. And now all of those late night ‘what ifs’ were coming back to haunt you. With a vengeance. 
“And I know you might not view it that way, but it’s been a long time. And I have changed.” He continued on, trying his best to convince you, knowing that these words were hollow. 
Spencer didn’t even think about the potential consequences of his next words before he spoke them, but he went on anyway. 
“And I would really, really like a second chance with you. I understand if you and I are over. If everything we had is completely… gone.” 
Your eyes flickered toward him at this, a dreadful ghost lingering in the back of your pupils. This was the last thing you had expected to hear from him, and you had a difficult time processing it. 
His tone was incredibly mournful when speaking these words. He still had so much love for you in his heart, and he could not imagine being around you and interacting with you to co-parent a child and not being with you. Not sharing your bed. Not having more children with you. 
“But you and I at least need to be civil, for his sake. Tell me that he really would be better off without both parents in his life.” 
Spencer resisted the urge to cite statistics about single parent households and the likelihood of forming antisocial personality disorders - mostly because he didn’t want to think of his son like that, and because you being a single parent household was the entire reason he was here. 
He didn’t want to bring up the UnSub again, and the potential danger you might be in - because he didn’t want you to brush him off or get even more angry. 
You looked intensely thoughtful, then, clearly mulling over his words in your mind. 
He thought that something else might sway your opinion in his favor. 
“Plus, if you don’t let me inside, that means I got you this gift for nothing.” He said, giving you his absolute best puppy eyes as he held up the bag in your direction. 
You rolled your eyes with a huff, but you took it from him anyway. 
“Don’t think you can bribe your way back into my good graces, Spencer.” You said, accepting the bag, and then: 
You stepped aside and let him in. 
Spencer didn’t waste a moment, gratefully accepting this. He took off his messenger bag and set it beside the door as you closed it behind him. You made a point of locking it this time, putting the deadbolt on so that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to get the door open by himself. 
“You used to be very easy to bribe back in the day, if I can remember.” Spencer told you, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. 
That grin, the light in his eyes. Him bringing up memories of ‘the old days’ - for a moment, it was all too much. It was too easy. It reminded you of simpler times - a time when you would have just leaned over and kissed him in order to shut him up. 
“Enjoying and accepting gifts is a lot different than being bribed.” You muttered under your breath, leaving the gift bag on the table beside the door as you walked back into the living room where Sebastian was playing. 
Spencer left it there for now - but he would have you open the gift before the day was over. That much he was determined of. 
“Mommy, look!” 
Sebastian ran toward you excitedly when he saw you walk back into the living room - he was waving something in his hand to show you. You quickly recognized it as a character from his favorite show - it was a rather large plush toy of Rubble from Paw Patrol. It still had a tag hanging off its ear, so it must have been what Spencer had brought him in that gift bag. 
Your stomach tightened. You knew that it was likely something to do with profiling - the fact that when he had been here before, he had only been in your home for fifteen minutes, but he had likely been able to observe so much about your life (and about your son) just from the simple things you had sitting around. You hated it. You hated that he had so many skills and tools at his disposal that meant you could hardly keep any secrets from him. 
“Oh wow, that’s so nice, baby.” You grinned widely, putting on your happiest voice for your son even though you didn’t like that Spencer had so easily bought his affection. 
“And look, look at this!” 
He nearly tripped over his own small feet, racing back over to the gift bag to fish out something else. He ran back over to you and handed it to you. It was a children’s picture book called ‘Dino ABC’ - it appeared to have a different dinosaur for each letter of the alphabet on each page. Educational and cute. Just what you would have expected from Spencer. 
You felt a deep pain emanate out from the center of your chest - your heart literally aching as you fought your hardest to keep a big smile for your son. 
“Seb, you still have to finish your snack.” 
You told him, tossing the book aside to put it on the couch and walking back over to the coffee table in order to draw his attention to the abandoned plate with his food on it. 
“Come on. You can play with your toys later.” 
You had been part way through his snacktime when JJ had called you, trying to convince you to come into the police station for a briefing about ‘protection’. Ultimately, that conversation had distracted you when Spencer had knocked on the door. 
He tucked Rubble under his arm and rushed to sit in your lap, shoveling cheese and crackers into his mouth off the frog shaped plate while you turned your attention toward Spencer - who had been watching the whole exchange while leaning against a wall, a tentative smile forming on his face. 
“I have to hand it to you, you’re good.” You said, trying to keep your tone neutral, straying away from anger. “You hit on two of his biggest interests - Paw Patrol and dinosaurs. That profiling stuff is a lot more accurate than I thought,” 
Spencer didn’t want to admit that he had just picked a book about dinosaurs because that was what he liked at that age, and the Paw Patrol thing had been all JJ’s doing. He had been far too busy caught up in anger at your initial stubbornness to try and ‘profile’ you. 
“Well-” Spencer attempted to reply, but he was cut off by Sebastian’s loud, enthusiastic voice. 
“What’s profiling?” He asked, nearly shouting, unintentionally spraying crumbs out of his mouth as he struggled to chew and speak at the same time. 
“Buddy, what did we say about talking with your mouth full?” You huffed quietly, grabbing a napkin to wipe up some of the crumbs he had sprayed out. 
You didn’t expect Spencer to indulge him with an honest answer. 
“Well, you see…” Spencer thought for a moment, wanting to explain the concept to him in an honest, but child-friendly manner. “Profiling is when I look at the things around you, and how you act, and I can tell what you’re thinking.” He replied. “Like… if you have a secret.” 
He moved toward the coffee table and once again crouched down to Sebastian’s level - and his cheeks curled into a smile at his son’s eager, curious eyes staring him down. 
You watched the interaction quietly. You never would have admitted it, but it gave you butterflies to see how natural, how perfect Spencer already was with Sebastian. 
Sebastian chewed a bit more before he spoke again. 
“I have a secret.” Sebastian whispered - a dramatic stage whisper that kids his age always did. 
“Hmm…” 
Spencer put his thumb and forefinger against his chin, and cocked an eyebrow, looking around the room like a cartoonish detective, acting like he was trying to piece together exactly what this big secret was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian’s entire body go stiff, as if he could better hide while not moving - and one small, cracker-crumbed fist clenching tight under the coffee table as the boy tried his hardest to contain his laughter told him everything that he needed to know.  
“You’re trying to hide part of your snack from Mommy!” Spencer declared, laughter in his voice as he pointed an ‘accusing’ finger toward Sebastian. 
The boy burst into laughter and surrendered his hand, dumping a single crumbled up cracker onto his plate as he curled over with epic laughter - apparently finding the whole thing to be a very amusing game. 
“You got me!” He chuckled. 
You had difficulty hiding your own smile at all of this, and you tried to encourage Sebastian back into an upright position as he wiggled around from laughing so furiously. 
“Well maybe we need Spencer around when you try to hide your carrots at dinnertime.” You said, your tone flat, not at all reaching that same joy. “Now come on, you joker, finish up please.” 
You caught Spencer’s eye then - and he had the dangerous realization that you weren’t entirely kidding. 
“I’ll be around whenever you need me.” Spencer replied, seriousness seeping back into his tone. 
You wanted to argue this - but of course, you held back with Sebastian sitting in your lap. Instead, it dissolved into a sharp huff out of your nose. 
When it seemed that you had nothing more to say on the matter, Spencer turned back to Sebastian, who was licking the mushy, bright red remnants of some strawberries off his fingers. 
“What’s your favorite dinosaur, bud?” Spencer asked. 
He was eager to get to know his son better - and he was expecting a rather generic answer from a four year old, like T-Rex. 
He certainly did not expect what came next. 
“Plesiosaurus!” Sebastian cried out excitedly, accidentally spitting out some food (again), which you rushed to wipe off his shirt and face with a nearby napkin. “They lived in the Jurassic period, and could grow to eleven feet long!” 
Spencer beamed with pride. 
Even though Spencer hadn’t spent that much time around children, he knew that this seemed to be fairly advanced knowledge for a four year old. 
You gave Spencer a very distinct look over Sebastian’s head. You could see that glint in his eye, and you knew that you were both thinking the same thing. 
He had interented his father’s big, big brain. 
It was something you had known for a long time now. And you knew that it wouldn’t take Spencer long to see it. 
“Wow, buddy.” Spencer smiled widely, eager to praise the boy. “That’s so awesome. My favorite is the Brontosaurus.” 
Sebastian smiled, and nodded. 
“They’re herbivores. Which means they only eat plants.” He replied. “Not like Mommy. She eats steak. And it’s gross.” 
You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh at this, and Spencer easily joined you. 
Leave it to the random stream of thoughts of a four year old to actually make you forget about your anger towards Spencer - at least for a little while. 
“Mommy, can I have more strawberries?” Sebastian asked, holding up his now empty plate. 
Something a lot of people don’t realize about little kids - they eat a lot of fruit. 
“I’ll see if we have more.” You told him, moving to scoot him off your lap. 
“I’ll go-” Spencer moved to get up, and you gave him a sharp glare that cut off his words. 
Luckily, Sebastian didn’t see this as he jumped off your lap and rushed toward Spencer, picking up his dinosaur book with still sticky fingers along the way. 
“I got it.” You grumbled quietly, picking up the plate and moving toward the kitchen. 
You wanted to make a comment about how you had been taking care of him by yourself for the past four years, so a single plate of strawberries was not that big of a deal. But you didn’t want to be so passive aggressive in front of Sebastian, especially because he wouldn’t understand why. 
You cleaned and cut up the few strawberries that were left, and when you came back, Sebastian was sitting on Spencer’s lap. They had the book propped open in Spencer’s hands while Sebastian gawked at it and explained in detail about whatever they were looking at - likely far greater detail than the book already had written in its pages. 
“Ferrisaurus.” He said, nearly out of breath with excitement. “He has a very sharp beak. He was discovered in 1971 by Kenny F. Larson. He belongs to the Leptoceratopsidae family, and-” 
You put the plate down in front of them, and Sebastian frowned when he saw it, cutting off his own words. 
“Is there any more?” He complained loudly. “I wanna share some with my friend Spencer.” 
Spencer’s mouth flattened into a thin line, clearly trying his hardest to hide a beaming smile at being claimed as Sebastian’s ‘friend’ once again. 
“No, sweetie, that’s all the strawberries we have in the house.” You informed him. “I’ll go to the store and get some more tomorrow. But you can’t keep eating all the fruit and then complain when it’s all gone.” 
It was a common theme in your life - Sebastian could eat an entire carton of raspberries in one sitting, and then became upset when there was no more in the fridge. 
Sebastian shrugged and reached up over the book to grab one off his plate. He shoved it into his mouth before reaching for another, looking up over his shoulder to then clumsily aim for Spencer’s mouth. You were expecting Spencer to dodge it and tell him ‘no thank you’ - a man who was a germaphobe, someone who you had seen use disinfecting wipes on forks at restaurants because he didn’t trust other people to clean the utensils well enough. But instead, he leaned down and captured the half-mushed fruit from your son, giving a small grin as some of the juices smeared across his lips. 
Your stomach twisted into knots as you moved to sit on the couch. 
You didn’t want to call it affection. You would deeply deny that it was fondness rising in you at seeing Spencer clearly soft and loving toward your son. 
Toward his son. 
Especially because it was a sight that you thought you would never witness in your lifetime. 
“Thank you.” Spencer mumbled out as he chewed, and Sebastian chirped out a ‘you’re welcome!’ - even reaching to grab a napkin to help Spencer wipe his mouth before he then turned back to his book. 
“You know, if he wants more fruit, I can run to the store. It’s really no trouble.” Spencer offered, clearly eager to give your son whatever he wanted - whatever he needed. 
“He’s fine.” You sighed in return. “It’ll be fine until tomorrow. Do you have any idea how much fruit this kid eats in a day? How much fruit he’s eaten just today alone?” You remarked. 
Spencer saw it as the rhetorical question it was, and waited for you to continue on. 
“He ate an entire carton of raspberries before he left this morning. I had to change his shirt because he looked like a character from Texas Chainsaw.” You explained, feeling safe that Sebastian would not understand that reference. 
“It makes sense.” Spencer replied. “The natural fructose found in most fruits make it an incredibly appealing taste to the underdeveloped palette of a child. It’s actually believed that before puberty, people have a higher concentration of taste buds on the apex of the tongue, which is the area associated with sweet and salty sensations, so children are more likely to crave sweet flavors. And most fruit has a mild but naturally satisfying fructose level, essentially making it less assertive than artificial candy that pubescent children would enjoy with a more developed tongue. Basically - children like it so much because fruit is nature’s candy.” 
Spencer let out a breathy laugh as he finished this statement, and you knew that your eyes were glowing with delight as you stared at him. 
Sebastian was staring up at him - clearly absorbing every single word that he spoke with eagerness. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sebastian was able to repeat back those facts word for word later on. He was startlingly like his father. 
You almost hated it, but this reminded you so much of the Spencer you had fallen in love with. The man who excited you with his passion; the person who made your knees tremble because he was so chalked full of knowledge, but never pretentious about sharing it. 
“Is that so?” You grinned in return. 
Before Spencer could get too caught up at that affectionate sparkle in your eye, something barreled to the forefront of his mind. 
“Wait - what did you mean by ‘before he left this morning’?” Spencer asked. “Where does Sebastian go during the day?”
He needed to know more about your life. There could be something small lurking in some corner that could lead him to the UnSub before the man had a chance to even consider attacking you.  
“I go to see Abby!” Sebastian piped up, answering the question as he turned a page in his book. “And my friends: Paige, and Jimmy, and Emma.” 
“Abby is his babysitter.” You explained. Spencer nodded at this. “He goes there four days a week. From nine in the morning until three in the afternoon. They have three other kids, Paige, Jimmy, and Emma. So he has friends there. He likes the social interaction. And I get my work done while he’s gone.” 
“But you’re on a waitlist for a daycare in the area?” Spencer prodded. You grew confused at this, so he added on: “That’s how my team found you. Through the daycare applications.” 
It felt like a violation of your privacy, but you didn’t point that out. 
You felt like the conversation was straying into ‘grown-up’ territory. Things that you didn’t want to speak of in front of your son, because children are sponges and you don’t really know how much they absorb. So you decided that it was time for him to have some independent playtime while you and Spencer talked. He had finished his snack in the meantime, anyway. 
You picked up a napkin and wiped his hands, and then you gently took the book from Spencer, who had been holding it open for Sebastian to look at it. 
“Seb.” You spoke to him gently, leaning into his view. You brushed away one of his wild curls and he looked at you attentively - Spencer’s heart rate sped up uncontrollably, and he knew that he was looking at you much the same way. “Can you go play in your room for a while, buddy? I need to have some grown-up time with Spencer.” 
“I want Spencer to come with me!” Sebastian argued gently. “I wanna show him my toys!” 
“Yes, you can show him later.” You told him. “After we’re done talking, he’ll be right up, and you can show him all your dinosaurs, and-” 
“And the stars!” Sebastian added on excitedly. 
“Yes.” You nodded. “Whatever you want.” 
Sebastian then let out a bright ‘okay!’ and Spencer helped him up, and there were more thunderous racing footsteps as Sebtastian went upstairs to go and play in his room. 
“Grown-up time?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow at you. 
You hated that the tiny bit of innuendo in his voice drudged up heat between your thighs. 
You labeled it as desperation because you hadn’t been touched by another person in so long, not your genuine attraction toward him coming back again. 
“Yes.” You said firmly. “You and I need to talk. About a lot of stuff. And he doesn’t need to hear all the gory little details.” You sighed. “Coffee?” 
“That sounds great.” He nodded. 
He followed you to the kitchen loyally and leaned against the counter while you went about the mechanical, ingrained movements to make a pot of coffee. 
“So, why isn’t he in preschool?” Spencer asked. 
He neglected to bring up the fact that the UnSub had likely targeted you through the preschool applications. He knew that you would become annoyed again if he brought up the fact that you were in danger - so he left that alone for now. The longer he stayed in the house, the better chance he had of convincing you to leave, to come into police custody for your own protection. 
If the worst case scenario were to take place, his gun was in his bag. He would protect you if anyone tried to break in. He would protect you at all costs. 
“They wouldn’t accept Sebastian into daycare because… they thought he was too advanced for their program.” You explained, answering his question. “They wanted me to have him IQ tested. And I refused, so they put him on the waitlist.” 
You weren’t facing Spencer as you filled up the coffee machine with water, but he could hear it in your voice. Grit. Disdain. 
Did you dislike the fact that your son was so advanced? Did you harbor annoyance because he had likely inherited that incredible intelligence from Spencer? 
“Why didn’t you get him the IQ test?” Spencer probed, brimming with frustration. “Get him an assessment with a professional, at least?” 
Sure, you disliked Spencer for your own reasons, but it was no good reason to have your son held back in life. 
You shrugged. Obviously, you were holding back the truth. 
“My mom thought it was a good idea.” You remarked. “But…” 
You clicked the coffee pot into the coffee maker and turned it on, and then turned to face Spencer. 
“I remembered all the stuff you said.” You said gently. 
This confused Spencer, and he eagerly listened as you continued. 
“About feeling ‘socially isolated’, and how you were upset that you didn’t have a ‘real childhood’ because you didn’t get to go to school with people in your own age group.” You explained. 
Then it truly hit Spencer. 
You weren’t avoiding having him tested to hold him back in life - you thought it was for his betterment. 
Because you had truly retained something from your relationship with Spencer. From all those late night hours the two of you had spent talking, tangled up in the sheets together after- 
Spencer forced himself not to think about it. 
“I want him to have friends.” You continued on. “To have socialization. Even if he’s special - he can have education individually. Hell, having a tutor will probably be better for him if he’s so advanced, right? He probably needs individual attention.” 
Spencer nodded at this. 
“I wanted him to go to daycare - not because he needs to learn the ABCs and shit. He could recite the alphabet when he was eight months old.” 
Spencer felt a wave of shock at this, and then intense pride. 
“I wanted him to go there and make friends. So I guess him going to the babysitter and making friends turned out to be a better fit for him anyway.” 
Spencer couldn’t describe the depth of the pride he was feeling. Not just at knowing how truly intelligent his son was, but at knowing that your instincts as a mother were so well tuned. 
Not just because you knew what your son needed, but because you had listened to Spencer talking about regrets from his own childhood and you had tried to keep from making those same mistakes with his son. It was likely that you even saw how socially underdeveloped he was when you met him as a twenty one year old and that was a huge part of your reasoning. 
In the few minutes he had spent with Sebastian, he already saw that brilliant intellect colliding with the nurturing you had shown him. His ability to make friends easily, his eagerness to share, his natural curiosity. He was leagues ahead of where Spencer had been at that age - shy, apprehensive, constantly clammed up around new people. 
You had raised such a brilliant, beautiful boy. 
“It seems like the right choice.” Spencer assured you. “I can already tell that the socialization is doing him well. He - he’s such a great kid.” 
He couldn’t hold back his beaming smile this time, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, highly resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. He wanted so badly to pull you into a hug - to kiss you. 
But he had to remind himself that he had lost those privileges so long ago. 
He had to be thankful for the simple privilege of basking in your smile when you returned the action. 
“I - I am actually kind of glad that you’re here.” You admitted meekly, a moment of shy honesty shining through. 
Spencer resisted the urge to cheer loudly. 
“I’ve been trying to teach him, but I barely know where to start.” You added on, exasperated laughter escaping your lips at the thought. “I can barely keep up with stuff that’s on his level. I read to him a lot, but I have trouble picking books that are appropriate for him? Anything that’s on his level academically has too much violence or racism or complicated themes for his age. At least, when it comes to fiction books. And I can’t really comprehend the scientific stuff. He picks out dinosaur books when we go to the library and reads them on his own, and half the stuff… he just tells me all the stuff he’s learned when he reads on his own and it amazes me.” 
You chuckled, and Spencer easily returned it. 
His son was truly an egghead after his own heart. 
“I’ve been trying to teach him the periodic table, but I don’t even remember half of it myself. I haven’t needed it since high school chemistry.” You remarked with another dry laugh. 
Spencer smiled brightly at you. 
“You - you were right.” You hated to admit it. “He does need his dad. He needs you. He needs someone who can nurture that big brain of his.” 
The detail oriented part of Spencer’s brain was eager to jump into planning - he wanted to ask you about creating a schedule, the logistics of how and when he would see his son, especially considering that the two of you lived in different cities, in different states. (Truthfully, he wanted to ask if you were willing to move closer so that he would be able to see Sebastian as often as possible.) 
But he forced himself to set that aside for now, because something else was bothering him. 
You reached up to the cupboard and grabbed two mugs, and poured up the coffee, and Spencer watched carefully as you went to the fridge and grabbed some creamer for yourself before you handed him his mug. 
“The sugar is behind you.” You told him. “Spoons are in the drawer to your left.” 
Naturally, you remembered how he liked his coffee. Black with regular sugar. It was something fond, that left an ache deep in his soul. He set to the gentle task of getting some sugar while he conjured up the courage to ask the question. 
“Have you ever told him about me?” He asked. “I mean - have you told him about his father? Does he know who his dad is?” 
He knew that obviously you hadn’t told Sebastian outright that Spencer was his father - not with a photo and a name. But he wondered if you had ever told him stories about who his father was - a doctor, a man who fought against bad guys. Did you only have room for malice against Spencer in your heart, or would have told Sebastian some of the good things about his dad? Had you told him how you and Spencer had met? Had you told him that the two of you were once in love? 
He hated to think that you resented Spencer so much that you had lied. That you had made up some falsehood. Perhaps you had told Sebastian that his father was dead, or someone who never existed at all (because someone his age would believe that). Spencer’s insides flooded with anxiety at the thought that perhaps you had a boyfriend. Someone who was a fixture in Sebastian’s life already who the young boy called Dad. 
Before Spencer could flare with too much jealousy at a completely made-up figure, you answered his question. 
“I - ugh.” You stuttered out. “No.” You admitted hesitantly, capping the creamer and moving to put it back into the fridge. 
You moved to sit down at the kitchen table and Spencer followed you with his own mug in hand. He found it quietly adorable that there was a rubber dinosaur placemat and a booster seat on one of the chairs - clearly the place where Sebastian sat to eat his meals. He pulled out the chair opposite of yours and carefully waited for you to continue talking. 
“It was one of those things…” You stared down into your mug, a wave of embarrassment spiking in you. 
Seeing how put together Spencer was now - how mature. It filled you with regret, and made you feel quite embarrassed about not contacting him before. 
But the Spencer you had last seen was nothing like this. So previously, you had no intentions of seeking him out in order to introduce him to his son. But every time a major life event came up - toward the end of your pregnancy, the birth, filling out the birth certificate and leaving the section of his father’s name blank… The first time Sebastian sat upright on his own, his first words, seeing how truly intelligent he was, his first steps, potty training him. 
Through all of it - you ached with regret. There were more than a dozen times (sometimes more than a dozen times a day) when you considered reaching out to Spencer and telling him the news. But you thought that he might lash out at you in anger for not telling him when you found out that you were pregnant. (And then you thought he would be even angrier for not telling him sooner). 
You had considered that with his job, and with the other circumstances - he might be dead. That there might not even be someone on the other end if you did reach out. 
You didn’t want to go looking for a father for your son, only to have to mourn over someone you once loved. 
You didn’t want to open the door for more hurt to come your way. 
“It was one of those things, that… the older he got… I never considered that he might ask.” You explained. “I just thought I could get away without telling him who his father was. Without talking about you at all. Because I was so hurt over what happened between us.” 
Oddly enough, Spencer understood this. That night - things had been so messy. Spencer had always wanted a chance to apologize. He would have pushed harder - he would have chased after you better if he knew that there was a child hanging in the mix. 
“You had no intention of ever finding me again to introduce me to my son?” Spencer asked. 
He needed to hear you say it. 
You shook your head, entirely solemn, even more guilty. 
“It was selfish.” You admitted. “I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the pain of seeing you again. I didn’t consider how it might affect him.” 
“So… he has been asking about me?” Spencer probed. “He’s been asking about his father?” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s old enough to understand the concept now.” You said, sipping your coffee. “He sees stuff on TV. Cartoons where characters have a Mom and a Dad. And he reads science books about animals - so he knows that other ‘species’ need two parents to ‘reproduce’.” You were almost annoyed by the fact that your son was so smart and still so young. You couldn’t trick him with gentle lies anymore. “I don’t think I can convince him that I am the only asexual reproducing woman on the planet.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle at this. He knew how it was at that age - too smart for his own good. 
“What have you told him?” He wondered aloud. 
“I have been trying my hardest not to tell him anything.” You replied. “Whenever he asks about his own father, I just… dodge around it.” You told him honestly. “What do you think all the strawberries are for? I mean, I can’t lie to him, but I can distract him. He’s still at the age where his attention span is not that great if he gets excited about something.” 
“Would you be willing to have that conversation with him?” Spencer asked meekly. “The three of us? Would you - would you be okay with him knowing me as his dad?” 
He was terrified that you might reject him. That you still hated him enough after that horrible night that you wouldn’t want your son to see Spencer as his father, even if it was the truth. (A truth that you and Spencer knew intimately well.) 
“Spencer.” You choked out his name, looking at him with tears dancing in your eyes. 
You knew that you had been harsh upon first seeing him again, perhaps unrightfully lashing out due to your own vendetta. But you didn’t think that you had made such a nasty impression. 
“Of course. Spence, I-” You choked on your own words for a second, taking in a sharp breath in an attempt to regain your composure. 
Spencer tried not to get excited at you calling him ‘Spence’ again for the first time in so long. He couldn’t take the familiarity, the sweet nickname as meaning the same thing it used to. He couldn’t take it as a signal of affection. 
“Even if you and I can’t get back to where we were…” You continued on. 
(Which would be something you would gratefully regret now, those feelings for him locked up inside of you, banging on the door, just begging to get out.)
“My son is so lucky to have you as his father. And I am sorry that it was due to my own selfishness that he missed out on you in his life for so many years.” 
“It’s not all your fault.” Spencer replied. “You don’t have to apologize.” 
You nodded at this, and the two of you fell silent once again. 
Of course, both of you wished that you could go back to that night and do things differently. 
You wished that you would have told him about the pregnancy as soon as you took the test - so if he was going to scorn you, he could make an informed choice about doing so. 
Spencer wished that he could have chased you - that he could have been in his son’s life from day one. 
Which made him curious about something. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
You chuckled, motioning toward the stairs - where Sebastian would surely be running down soon, waiting for Spencer to come and play with him, so Spencer could be shown all of his toys, introduced to each dinosaur by name and species. 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
He didn’t even have to fully spell it out in order for you to know exactly what he meant. 
Had you known that you were pregnant when the two of you had broken up? 
You could have easily lied to him. But just like every other moment on this day, stupidly - you felt like you owed him the truth. 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“You - you just unilaterally decided that you were going to raise my son alone?” Spencer snapped, some of that spite from early coming back like the coals from a fire being stoked. 
“Yes. I did.” You said firmly. 
You didn’t have to remind him of why. 
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes, and then plowed forward with another question. 
“So - so do you know when-?” He began, and you cut him off. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You quickly replied. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t easily tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer. It was one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why he had changed. 
Spencer had come over to your place late one night. 
He had a key, but usually he was afraid to wake you up by using it. But that night he had been swamped with paperwork, writing up consultations on cases less urgent for police precincts that the BAU couldn’t get out to attend to in person. Images of mangled bodies stuck in his mind and by the time he finished up, it was well past dinner - well past a decent hour to be seeing you. But his insides felt hollow with a unique kind of grief as he imagined all the people who wouldn’t be getting home to their families - the people in the photos. 
He fingered over the key to your apartment on his keyring as he walked out the front doors of the office. He had taken the metro that day, and the last trains ran late into the night - until two or three am, to ensure that people drinking could get home safely. But he needed some fresh air, so he decided to walk. He took out his cellphone and decided to call you. 
If he let himself into your apartment unexpectedly so late - he didn’t want to scare you. 
“Spencer.” 
Your voice had a breathy, airy quality to it. He wouldn’t quite call it tiredness, not like he had woken you from sleep. 
“Y/N.” He called your name back softly. “Did I wake you?” He still wanted to ask, even though he wasn’t sure that was the case. 
“No.” You replied. “I - I missed you, baby.” 
The slightest quiver in your tone gave you away. That gentle, needy curl around the word baby - it practically brought him to his knees on the sidewalk. 
All at once, his mood changed. 
It was something beautiful that you often did for him. 
Every single bit of brick-like grief was pushed out of him in favor of that flowery, dreamy lust. 
“You missed me?” He parroted the words back, mischief seeping into his voice as he continued the walk toward your apartment on slightly weaker legs, the cool night air brushing up against his now heated cheeks. “You’ve been thinking about me a lot tonight, haven’t you, darling?” 
You let out a fluttering moan. You knew that you had been caught, so you felt no sense in holding back now. 
Spencer pulled his messenger bag to sit in front of his crotch, praying that he wouldn’t look indecent in public. It took so little effort from you to make his cock swell to attention - with his intense attraction toward you, and with you being so perfect, such a beacon of beauty and sex. 
“You caught me.” You huffed out. “Been thinkin’ about you all night, baby. The bed feels so empty without you.” 
You both knew that it was a subtle admission. The downright filthy way you said the word ‘empty’ - Spencer bit his lip to hold back a moan just hearing it. You knew that those clouded innuendos turned him on so much. The veil. The intention. 
You were touching yourself, and Spencer had called with perfect timing to ‘catch you’ in the middle of the act. 
If Spencer strained his ears enough, he could hear the wet slide of your fingers against your pussy on the other end of the line, and he knew that you could hear the increase in his breathing - the hard huff coming out of his nostrils because of it. 
“Where are you?” You whined, clearly needy. “Need you, Spence.” 
You hoped that he wasn’t too busy, caught up at work. 
“On my way to you now.” He told you, his voice leaking desperate breaths. 
He was already grinning widely at the thought of what would be waiting for him - how you would be leaking wetness, so warm and ready for him; how he would be able to simply slide his hard cock into you with no resistance and your gorgeous pussy would so eagerly swallow him up. He forced himself to focus. 
“Wait for me, okay?” He added on, trying to have some firmness in his tone - but he knew that it sounded too much like pleading and you would be kind to comply. 
Wait. 
You let out a strained, harsh sound at this. 
You knew that it was another subtle code. 
He didn’t want you to make yourself orgasm until he got there. (You had already had one before he called, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as one by Spencer’s hand, or his tongue.) 
He likely wanted you to stop touching yourself all together. He wanted to leave you on edge, to make you even more needy for him. Even if he would only take a few minutes to arrive, he wanted you hungry. 
You had the urge to argue with this, but you held back. 
You knew that it would be worth it. 
Spencer always made it worth it. 
“Okay.” You huffed back, an undertone of frustration in your voice that got Spencer even more excited. You needed him. And he planned on providing every single inch of what he knew you needed so badly. “I’ll wait.” You agreed. “But hurry? Please?” 
Please. 
The way you said it, asking so nicely - it nearly knocked the wind out of him. You would never truly have to ask him to touch you. Truthfully, he should have to ask for the privilege of providing you with pleasure. He would never say no to you. 
But there was something beautiful about hearing that from your lustful voice. 
“I’ll be there before you know it.” He promised you gently before hanging up the call. 
Spencer would have broken out into a full run if - one, it wouldn’t have made him look entirely idiotic, and two, it wouldn’t have stolen all his energy. Energy that he needed in order properly fuck you. He didn’t need to arrive at your apartment sweaty and panting and then collapse onto the floor in a heap and miss out on his chance to make sweet love to you. 
He got there as fast as his legs could carry him (at a reasonable pace), and he estimated that it took him less than four minutes - because your apartment really wasn’t that far from the office. Conveniently enough for him. He skipped the elevator ride and took the stairs two at a time in his eagerness (and long legs). And soon enough, he was putting the key into the lock, welcomed by gentle shadows, the smell he recognized as the air freshener you loved to use, and a single guiding light that must have been the tableside lamp in your bedroom. 
“Spence?” 
You called out from down the hall as he closed and locked the door behind him. 
“It’s me.” He assured you. 
He tossed his keys into a bowl that you kept on the counter, toeing off his shoes, ditching his bag off to the side, and shrugged off his jacket as he walked down the hall. 
“That was fast.” You remarked with a giggle, making him smile. 
“A lady should never have to wait.” He replied, coming to stand at your open bedroom door, already working open his tie. 
“Then you better hurry up.” You told him, your voice melting into a purr as you stared at him with honey warm lust in your eyes. 
You were completely naked, laying in the middle of the bed, propped up on a few comfortable pillows. The comforter was down by your ankles; perhaps you had crawled into bed with the intention to sleep (some of your sleep clothes strewn across the floor, as though you had stripped them off and tossed them aside) - but then found yourself feeling that deadly ache between your thighs and kicked away the covers to relief yourself. 
Spencer had called you with perfect timing. 
Perhaps your soul had sung out to him like a siren - luring him here to perform his duty to you, to act as the servant meant to bring you pleasure. He could think of no better duty meant for his existence than to serve you. Ideally, it was something he wanted to spend the rest of his days doing. He would buy you a house, give you kids if you wanted them, support you in whatever ways you needed. He felt like he lived to make your life better - to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you moan with pleasure. 
If he didn’t have that, then he was lost. 
In the low lighting, the star shaped necklace that he had given you for your birthday sparkled between your breasts, and Spencer found that you were most gorgeous wearing only that - a kiss of his claim on you, a perfect symbol of the beauty of your relationship among your goddess-like curves. 
He felt entirely overdressed and he rushed to play catch up; fingers fumbling over buttons, his movements becoming downright frantic as he stripped out of his clothes. He almost knocked his glasses off his face while ripping his shirt off his head, and he had to place them on your bedside table for safekeeping. And then he nearly tripped out of his pantlegs on his way to the bed, which had you giggling, and he flashed you a smile. 
But finally, he was freed, as naked as you were, and he crawled between your open, welcoming thighs. It felt like coming home. Your hands reached up to settle onto his ass - gently smoothing from the skin there, up his back, spreading warmth across his body as you groped him smoothly with soft, open hands. 
He planted one hand on the pillow beside your head and used the other to gently lift your chin toward his. He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day. Even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
He really should ask you to move in with him soon. 
Even if he had to be away for days on cases, he should get to come home to you. 
The two of you should start building a proper life together. 
But of course, any thoughts about the clippings of property listings that Spencer had hidden away in a desk drawer fled from his mind when you rubbed your knee across his thigh, sending shivers through him - reminding him exactly what he was here for. 
Typically, he would be the kind of man to go down on you, thoroughly, before he fucked you. He loved the feeling of your legs tightening around his head - he loved the taste of you on his tongue. 
But when he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him - his self control broke down. He had missed you so much. He realized that he needed you just as badly as you needed him. He moaned even harder against your mouth, and he pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip.
Then, he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
He knew that you typically kept a box of condoms in your bedside table. But the last time he had reached for one, the box had been empty. And he had resorted to using ‘the emergency condom’ that he kept in his bag. He didn’t have one in his bag now and he wasn’t sure if you had gotten a new box of condoms for the nightstand. 
While he contemplated all of this, he kissed along the side of your breast, and then gently tongued at your necklace, still loving how it looked against your bare skin. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply. 
You combed your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. It was something that made it far more difficult for him to concentrate. Especially when he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat. 
He didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. Or that you meant to pick up a Plan B pill in the morning. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up - and then he gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. 
But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. Spencer always thought that it was a myth, men talking about how condoms actually reduced the feeling. It was such a thin piece of latex, how could it truly affect the overall sexual experience that much? Sex with you was so amazing, he couldn’t possibly imagine it getting any better. 
But this - this was so much better. 
He could feel your wetness sliding against every inch of his cock, he could feel your heat drowning him, he could feel every little clench you made - every little movement. He felt like he was truly drowning inside of you. Like he was being smothered inside of your perfect body. 
His head collapsed against your breast, and he sucked in a sharp breath, struggling through it all, as though he was trying to swim through thick, warm honey. His head was hazier than it had ever been - if someone asked him to recite a most basic fact at this moment, he wouldn’t be able to. 
“Spence,” 
You whined, arching your hips into him, forcing your pelvis into him just slightly more - he felt your pubic hairs grazing against the base of his cock, the sensitive head of his cock angling at a new place inside of you. He let out a pathetic moan, struggling not to cum too early. 
“Move, please.” Your voice was breathy, and desperate, and he had to remind himself of his purpose - bringing you pleasure. 
“Yes.” He sighed, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize, just-” 
Whatever else you were going to say was promptly cut off when Spencer put both hands on your hips and bent his knees slightly, gaining the traction needed to properly fuck you. 
He didn’t initiate a brutal or rough pace, but he pistoned his hips well enough to take the air out of you. His movements rang a moan out of your lungs as pleasure hummed through your body, finally getting what you had been craving all night. You loved the feeling of his long cock finally plunging in and out of you, especially without the barrier of a condom. It was enough to create the delightfully filthy sound of skin smacking through the air, well timed with the chorus of moans that began to echo out from your lips. Something that was complemented by Spencer’s own grunting and whining - something he tried to partially hide by biting his lip. 
It was perfect. It was so easy, came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. It was a perfect dance that made your entire body relax - the beautiful tingle of knowing that he was touching you. 
“Thank you.” You moaned, reaching around to plant your hands on Spencer’s ass again. “Fuck, thank you.” 
You bent your knees and spread your thighs more, angling your body perfectly for him to fuck into you even deeper. At the same time, you used your hold on him to pull him closer - to shove his cock even deeper into you. Something that both of you grunted harshly at. It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With your wetness gathering around the base of his cock and dripping down over his balls - with your hot, thrumming cunt squeezing over him, he was getting dangerously close. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and you forcibly held him close by digging your nails into the flesh of his ass. Any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond. Especially when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
Spencer collapsed on top of you - even as tired as he was, he was careful not to hurt you by putting too much of his body weight onto you. (Even though you professed that you liked feeling his weight on top of you because he didn’t weigh all that much). 
“Wow.” Spencer breathed into your neck - finding himself speechless after such a fantastic moment. 
“That - that was amazing.” You remarked, breathless. 
After a few moments, his cock began to go flaccid and slipped out of you, and he still felt your pussy practically beating with heat. He was reminded of something. 
“You haven’t had an orgasm.” He mumbled quietly. 
“It’s okay, I-” 
‘I made myself cum earlier.’ 
Your words were cut off as Spencer descended down between your thighs. He felt his cock twitch with interest at the sight of his thick, white cum leaking out of your used cunt, mixing with your clear wetness. 
So perfect. 
He didn’t hesitate before putting his hands on your thighs, holding your legs apart while he shoved his tongue deep inside of you - partially with the purpose of cleaning up his own mess and partially with the newfound curiosity to taste what the two of you were like together. 
You gripped onto his hair and moaned out, not a single complaint to be found on your lips. 
It was the most perfect night that either of you could have imagined. All topped off by falling asleep in each other’s arms after a hot shower together. 
Three days later, Spencer was called away on a case in Atlanta, Georgia that changed his life forever. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” 
Spencer could see the lie reflected in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about - if his memory served him well enough. Which it usually did. 
He couldn’t hold himself back from calling you on it. 
He locked his eyes on yours across the table, the memory of that night possessing him - the ghost of your warm skin pressing against his own only further driving the words from his lips. 
“Don’t lie to me.” He said, his voice a deadly, low rumble. “Look at me now, and tell me in all honesty that you don’t remember that night. Tell me that you don’t remember the way I felt inside of you. Tell me you don’t remember how good it was.” 
Maybe it was pure spite on Spencer’s end. Desperately wanting to know that after all the resentment, the arguing, the years he had lost with his son, with you, that you still felt something for him underneath the anger and the annoyance. 
Even if that underlying thing was lust. It was a strange victory, but he mentally cheered when he saw you clench your thighs together past the table - when your jaw tightened up. Your fingers twitched, and he knew you well enough to see the subtle signs of your lust from a mile away. 
Old habits die hard. 
Spurred on by this, and your steely silence, he kept going. 
“Tell me that you don’t remember how perfect we were together - how good it felt when it was just us, nothing but skin on skin for the first time.” 
You exhaled sharply. 
“Spencer, we are not doing this right now.” You declared, your voice quivering slightly in your throat. 
This didn’t deter him. 
It was your use of the words ‘right now’ - even if unconsciously, you thought that there might be a ‘later’. 
(In your mind, having sex with your ex, the father of your child, just to get off, sounded like the worst idea ever. But he looked so good and you knew that he was good in bed and if you had to be cooped up in the house with him for much longer, you would be making that stupid decision against your own will.) 
“Tell me you don’t remember how good it felt when I came inside you that night.” 
Spencer’s words were becoming more graphic now, looking to get more of a reaction out of you. 
It worked in an instant - you swallowed thickly, your whole body tingling with the imagery his voice carried. The underlying lustful rumble in his tone making your insides quake. Your leg twitched with that unconscious desire to have some friction between your thighs. It was working so well, and he hated how much he loved it. 
“I mean - what was your intention that night? Did you want me to fuck a baby into you? Is that why you were so desperate for me to fuck you raw? Is that why you kept pushing my cock deeper inside of you? Were you just that desperate to get knocked up?” 
His words were making you utterly dizzy with heat. If it wasn’t for the common sense blinking loudly at the front of your brain, you would have jumped across the table and tackled him just to hump him for some sort of friction on your aching cunt. 
Of course, he could read this plainly all over your face. 
“Spencer-” You breathed out. 
Just then, Spencer’s phone rang, cutting through the dangerously palpable tension in the air. 
He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and when he saw Morgan’s contact name on the screen, he thought for certain that the man was calling to discuss some development in the case. 
“I have to take this.” Spencer sighed. 
“That’s fine.” You nodded. You were glad to have some relief from the dangerous tension - you needed a few minutes to collect yourself. 
Spencer got up from the table and naturally moved toward the back door - a sliding glass door that he was disappointed to find unlocked. He would have to remind himself to have a talk with you about having better security protocols in your home, even during daylight hours. 
Spencer closed the door behind himself, creating a small barrier of privacy as he answered the call. 
“Hello.” 
“Hey, pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled. 
Spencer rolled his eyes, immediately knowing that this wasn’t a work call - this wasn’t anything serious in nature for Morgan to be greeting him that way. 
“What do you want?” Spencer replied, his patience already in short supply. 
“Oh, come on, man.” Morgan kept up that airy, light tone. “You think you can sneak around with your secret little family and not have it be the hottest gossip we’ve had in years? I wanna hear more about this kid of yours. Me and Prentiss got a bet, goin’ - so, was it an accident or not? Did you really know what you were doin’ when you stuck your little genius thang in her back then? Or no?” 
Reid was going to kill JJ. (Well, not really. He was likely just going to glare at her firmly and ignore her for a day - or, just until she apologized.) 
He knew that it had likely been an accident - the information about his private life getting leaked to the entire team. But, if JJ could keep important information about killings away from the media, why couldn’t she keep this out of the team’s hands? Why couldn’t she have made up some excuse about where Reid was? 
“No, no.” Spencer ground out harshly, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not telling you if my son’s conception was an accident or not just to satisfy some stupid bet.” 
“Ooh, a son.” Morgan seemed stuck on this piece of information. “Rossi, you owe me a drink. It is a boy.” 
Reid heard Rossi and Prentiss arguing in the background, and he let out another frustrated sigh. 
“Don’t you have work you should be doing?” Spencer asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Hotch has us spinning our wheels here.” Morgan replied. “Goin’ through more of these daycare forms while Garcia runs more background checks - but, so far, we’ve come up with squat. Your Baby Mama is the only real lead we’ve got so far.” 
Reid sighed. 
“So, was it a one night stand? An epic night of passion?” He chuckled, still using a teasing tone. 
Spencer didn’t answer. 
“At least tell me this - is she cute? What was it about this woman that got Doctor Reid to chase after his Darwin instincts for once?” Morgan pressed on. 
“She’s beautiful.” Spencer replied without even thinking, his eyes looking at you through the glass door. “She… she’s perfect in every conceivable way.” 
Sebastian had come back down stairs, clearly looking for Spencer. And now you had him in your lap, still sitting on your kitchen chair, playing with a couple of plastic dinosaurs that he had brought down from his bedroom on the tabletop. 
There was a distinct, humble beauty in the fact that you didn’t know you were currently under Spencer’s attention. You looked at Sebastian with such intense love in your eyes - a way you had once looked at Spencer, before that love had been replaced by scorn and disdain. Before he had messed it all up. 
“Woah.” Morgan wisped in reply. “That sounds like a whole lot more than just one night of baby makin’.” 
Maybe he was still fishing for information to ‘win’ the bet, maybe not. Spencer couldn’t quite tell from his tone alone. But he did sound a bit more serious, and that wedged Spencer open a bit more in order to feel comfortable continuing. 
“It was.” Spencer sighed. “She - she was the love of my life.” He added on, feeling safe to tell Morgan this. “But I messed it all up.” 
Morgan instantly dropped his joking and teasing when he heard the choked off tears in Spencer’s voice. 
“What happened?” He asked. 
“Long story.” Spencer sighed. “But - it ends with me being excluded from my son’s life. For a good reason.” 
“I don’t see any good reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to see your kid.” Morgan replied. “Reid, I’ve seen you with kids, man. If anybody deserves to be a father, it’s you.” 
“I was different back then. Around the time she got pregnant.” He explained. “It was just after Hankel.” 
There was a tense silence as Morgan sat with the truth - as he absorbed it. Clearly, he was unsure of what to say, and Spencer found himself naturally continuing on. 
“He’s so smart.” He added on, looking at the way Sebastian ran his fingers along the neck of the brontosaurus - maybe he had brought that one down for Spencer, remembering that he had said it was his favorite. “He’s such a good kid.” 
He almost choked on these words, more tears welling up that he forcefully pushed down. 
He turned away from the glass door then, just in case you looked up to see his tearful face. He wiped his eyes with a stiff hand, and he was surprised by what Morgan said next. 
“So be good to him.” He said. “Be there for him now. Step up and be the dad that we all know you can be.” 
Before he could reply, Morgan continued. 
“I don’t know if I believe in fate, but Penelope always says that everything happens for a reason.” He said. “And she would tell you to use this as an opportunity to be reunited with your girl, and become a real family. Even if it is because of some scumbag killing people that brought us here.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
“That is very Garcia.” 
“And you know she’s always right.”
...
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the third part! I would really like to see 25 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, and asks (anonymous or not), and 40 Reblogs before I post the next part.
I am really glad to know that everyone is enjoying this series, and I would love to hear more support and hear more of what you think about it. (Especially considering this is such a long chapter lmao.)
Also, please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
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