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Piercer!Geto
Manx Norton: going over the limit
Contents: 18+ mdni, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, blowjob, deepthroating, throat fucking, swallowing, marks the end of their pre-relationship story
“We need to talk,” you say.
Geto looks up from his journal, slow and steady like he knew you would come here and at this time. He sets his pen down. His hair is tied up completely today and there are dark bags under his eyes that you can’t bear to look at, so you don’t. Instead, you settle into the seat, without being asked, and you cross your legs and your arms.
You mean business.
“Good afternoon, pretty. You look gorgeous.”
Sighing, you ignore that fluttering in your stomach. There’s no point in getting carried away by his charm; it’s his instinct to be sweet, otherwise he wouldn’t have as many clients as he does. But you’re aware, faintly and right at the very back of your mind, that his words have a bite to them — they’re complimentary whilst also accusatory.
“I need an explanation, Geto,” you state firmly.
His left eye twitches. It’s not a flicker or a nervous tick, it’s a flinch. You have the power, just like your sister said, when you were throwing her shoes out of the window, and she was offering advice as a means to fight your murderous intent off. It didn’t work.
There’s always something shifting between you, something unstable, and it’s been difficult to manage — you’re new to relationships, so new to venturing outside your comfort zone that you’ve relied so much on him to guide you. But you’ve also had to step up and make decisions for yourself.
Your friends weren’t very helpful; they insisted you quit or bring a new man to the studio to make him jealous, and as tempting as it is to be petty, you know they wouldn’t solve anything. It’ll just make you feel bad and icky.
So, you’ve chosen the high road, providing him the opportunity to share his side, to explain why he let you down once again and why everything between you had been built on a lie.
Nodding, he opens a drawer and takes out a familiar sheet of paper. Then, in a conversational tone, he asks, “What do you see?”
“It’s my CV,” you answer. Truthfully, you have no clue what game he’s playing; there’s something in particular he’s looking for but all you see is the whites of the paper and the lines of ink.
“Look at it from the perspective of an employer looking to fill a hole in their establishment,” is his reply.
You’ve heard that tone often, every day, in fact. It’s the tone he uses on clients when he needs to go over payment plans, or on suppliers when he needs to negotiate a new contract. But he’s never used it on you. Distant and devoid of attachment, it makes you feel uneasy.
Fiddling with a loose thread on your sweater, you furrow your brows as you read over the paper. Geto is leaning back on the chair, hands folded on his lap, the pinnacle of confidence. That used to be so attractive. Now, you’re just a little peeved off. You were supposed to be the confident one; you came here on your own volition, even prepared a speech you practised with your sister.
You should have known he’d sweep the rug from under you.
Frustrated, you groan and smack the sheet. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to see! I have no time for this.”
Smiling reassuringly, Geto doesn’t bat an eye at your outburst and instead, begins a lecture, “What I saw was a CV lacking in relevant work experience. In fact, you had very little experience. Your most recent job was in high school, when you worked as a librarian’s assistant for a day. The other things on there were debate club and a certificate for being a neighbourhood ‘sweetheart’, and I’m not even sure what that means.”
“Oh.”
To your embarrassment, he laughs. A blush is growing on your face and suddenly you’re very aware of how some strands of hair are sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, how the sweater you’re wearing is a little scratchy and that maybe, just maybe, you’ve overreacted terribly.
Maybe you should have confronted him sooner. Perhaps just as soon as you overheard him tell Miguel that your sister owes him a favour for hiring you. However, in your defence, you were feeling a little hurt from having been left at the restaurant — you waited for an hour, watching people pass by and give you sympathetic looks as you sent text after text to a man too busy with a client to realise time passed by.
A week has gone by since then, and you haven’t come to work at all, you dodged every text and call from Geto and ignored him when he showed up on campus and had the nerve to get upset that you’re hanging out with a classmate. Your sister tried to defend him, and herself, but you weren’t willing to hear her out. On many occasions, you’ve told her to butt out, to leave you to make mistakes and get hurt, because it’s your prerogative.
She can’t protect you from everything and the more she tries, the harder you all learn that lesson.
“Okay, fine. So, my CV sucks a little,” you huff, “but you should have never hired me under the pretence that I was good enough when the real reason was because my sister asked you. It’s unfair on me. I wanted to earn this job on my own and you two went behind my back to manipulate this whole situation!”
The man sighs and leans forward. You smell his cologne and it’s muddling your mind a little, so you lean back, away from him. He notices. “I understand you’re upset. And I’m sorry to have colluded with your meddling sister. But it really isn’t what you think, pretty girl.”
You hate how patient he sounds, like you’re the crazy one. And maybe you are. You don’t know anymore. In fact, you’re starting to think you know nothing at all.
“Yes, it’s true she asked me to give you a job. But all I promised her was that I’ll give you a chance, like everyone else. And when you came for the interview, I thought a lot of things. One was that you are so different from your sister. Different from the people that tend to come through the door, from me. You’re much brighter, much warmer and lighter than everyone I’ve ever seen.”
There’s something in his eyes, a sincerity that makes you breathless. All the air has left the room and you’re leaning in without even realising it. Everything that he says is entrancing, he’s a pied piper playing a tune that fills your soul with a fire you can’t put out, and he’s leading you closer to him, away from everything you’ve ever known, away from safety and reason.
You’re not afraid.
“I had a look at your CV and thought, there’s no way I would hire you, not even if she begged or blackmailed me — I take great pride in my studio, I turned it from a little backroom space with flickering lights to what it is now. My clients trust me to provide quality service from beginning to end, and I will not let a woman, no matter how beautiful, get in the way of that.”
Geto reaches for your cheek, like he can’t help himself, and you let him. His hands are slightly calloused but otherwise smooth and soft. And that smile, the polite one he always wears, is gone. In its place is something that reflects how you feel, how you’ve both been feeling for a long time now. A frustration against the distance between you, the boundary that’s erected itself between employer and employee, boss and receptionist, and a man who’s seen it all versus a girl who knows so little.
You aren’t meant to be. Everything about this relationship is wrong, it’s inadvisable, foolish, like Hades and Persephone, or Eros and Psyche. It’s a tragic love story doomed from the very beginning, the kind people talk about centuries later with a mix sense of awe and pity. You know all about it, have read so many variations of the same story with the same individuals who think they know everything, who believe they’re different, special and that the Fates will smile fondly on them.
Except neither you nor Suguru are under the impression that you’re different, that this will turn out differently and that the cards you’ve been dealt are from a separate, fresh deck. You both know you’re playing a dangerous game.
Neither of you care.
“But then I talked to you. And you were so witty, so undeterred by my unrelenting questions, and so willing to learn as you go. You had the confidence of someone who’s worked a thousand jobs, who’s met a thousand people that, despite knowing better, I wanted to hire you on the spot.”
Carefully, with your eyes fluttering shut at the tentative touch of your skin, you breathe out, “Suguru, we shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
When your eyes open, you see his gorgeous, tortured eyes fall to your lips and you know what you want.
Your lips meet his.
This kiss is so similar to the one you shared that night, but oh so new. It seems so long ago now, and when you feel his plush lips devour yours it feels like this is new to both of you and it urges you to push in further. His tongue touches yours and you don’t hesitate to intertwine it, to explore all that he’s laying out for you.
Gasping for breath, you pull away with little success before he’s grasping the back of your neck and urging you over the desk, kneeing the papers there and hearing the pens and stapler fall to the floor with a dull clatter, you sit onto the desk and you hear his chair slam against the wall when he stands to press himself closer to you. He kisses you again.
“Things work differently with me,” he says in between pecks to your lips.
Whilst his mouth moves to your jaw, sucking at the skin by your ear, you giggle. “I know. My sister says you like control. Something about Christian Grey.”
Chuckling in your ear before nipping you there, he admits, “I’m not as insane as him. In truth, I don’t really know what I am, but I know it’s more intense than what most men ask for.”
“That’s okay, Suguru. We can work it out together, step by step.”
He kisses your pulse point. You moan. Goosebumps are rising along your arms; your back is arching to press as much of you closer to him. You’re barely capable of creating a single train of thought, you feel so lightheaded you don’t register how your legs are wrapping around his hips.
“My smart girl,” Suguru muses against your skin.
Your legs are wrapped around his hip, pulling him close until you can feel the bulge there push against your core. With a roll of your hips, the zipper of his jeans nudges your bundle of nerves. You gasp. And you seek out that pleasure again with slow, gradual grinds.
Breathlessly, you say, “Suguru…”
He’s scraping his teeth against your pulse point, one hand kneading your thigh and the other holding himself up. Filling your senses, all you can think about is him and how there’s a growing pressure within that’s dying to be released.
“Go on, pretty girl. Take what you need.” Tightening your legs around his hips, you grind harder, frustrated that there are layers between you. Your arch your back, chest rubbing against his. Like he knows what you want, his hand finds your breast, squeezing and groping. “No bra? Are you sure you came here to talk, angel?”
When his thumb brushes over your nipple, you cry out, body tightening as that coil inside snaps. You spasm, grinding hastily to draw out your pleasure. It’s much better than you any could have given yourself and you’re addicted. Hand flying to his hair, you thread it through, brushing out his hair tie until his silky hair cascades down.
He groans.
In a blink of an eye, you’re being pulled and pushed down onto your knees. You grip his thighs, blinking fast as you desperately try to regain your bearings.
“You’re asking for trouble, sweet thing. Can you handle it?” Suguru asks, a challenge glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you.
You bite your lip, thighs squeezing to subdue the regrowing aching there. With a sudden bravery, your hands make their way up, revelling in the marble like strength in his muscles before they find his zip.
Hesitating, you feel something holding you back, an instinct within awakening. Awkwardly, you question, “May I?”
His smile widens, surprise flickering in his eyes, and then he’s threading his hands through your hair. It’s a rewarding pat, one full of warmth, and it’s empowering.
“Such a good girl. You’re a perfect little angel, aren’t you?” He coos. “Of course you may, my pretty girl. Go on, go at your own pace.”
Nodding, you unzip his jeans, tugging it down with his boxers. And what springs out leaves your mouth watering. It’s huge and intimidating. It’s bad enough that he’s well-endowed, but nothing about him is typical. He’s different to the average man in every way.
Starting with the metal piercing the underside of his dick, emerging through the head.
Seeing the horrified look on your face, he chuckles, the hair soothing your head delving down to pinch your chin. Unperturbed by your reaction, likely expecting it, he explains, “I got it done a year ago, mostly as a dare. It took around nine weeks to heal and yes, it did hurt.”
“B-but I-I can’t,” you stammer and shake your head, adding, “there’s just n-no way.”
Suguru sighs, thumb grazing your cheek. “You don’t need to. I understand this is too much too soon, but I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’re more than capable.”
You don’t want to disappoint him. And you want to prove you can do whatever you set your mind to. Recalling one of your sister’s drunken admissions, you know the trick is to pinch your thumb, so you don’t gag, to breathe through your nose and take a little at a time.
“Okay, okay. I can do it.”
He gathers your hair and keeps them out of the way. Slowly, you wrap your hand around the base, gasping at the way your fingers barely touch. With no particular method in mind, you explore his length, thumb following a vein from bottom to top. He’s hot in your hand, almost burning, and the tip is shining with what you know to be pre-cum.
It’s pearly white and you can’t wait to know what it tastes like; you lean in and scoop up the drop with your tongue. You both groan.
Salty, you mull the taste over. It isn’t bad. And suddenly, you no longer feel scared. Your tongue fiddles with the bent metal barbell, surprisingly not minding the cold sensation against your hot tongue.
“That’s it,” he groans, grip on your hair tightening.
You widen your jaw, suckling the head, tongue pressing against the slit before it circles around, grinding the barbell back and forth. He groans louder, deep breaths vibrating through the room.
When you push in further, you make the mistake of doing it too fast. You gag, eyes tearing up.
“Slowly, pretty. Slowly. There’s no rush, okay?”
Coughing, you nod weakly, feeling embarrassed. Recovering your breath, you go back in, slower. Eventually, you work up a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down, taking more and more of him but never quite making it further than halfway.
Both hands on your head, he soothes your tears away with his thumb before he advises, “Relax your throat, sweet thing. I’ll guide you, is that alright?”
You tap his thighs twice in a yes.
And then he’s pushing in, more and more until he’s filling your throat, muscles stretching to take him in. Tearing up once more, you mentally swallow that panic rising, the claustrophobia within forcing your nails into his bare thighs.
“You’re doing so well, angel. So good -ngh- for me, hmm?”
Suguru pulls back, the piercing scraping your tongue. And then he pushes back in. Again and again, he builds up to a rhythm, allowing you to get used to it, before he gives you more of him.
This is so overwhelming, the feeling of his piercing bumping at the back of your throat, the ache in your jaw at the stretch, and the salty taste filling your senses. All you can see and feel and hear and taste is Suguru. You can’t get enough of him.
So, when he bottoms out, your lips tickling his skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head just as his do.
“I’m going to cum, pretty. Do you want to pull out?” He asks, pleasure written all over his face, the veins in his arm bulging at his barely constrained urge to fuck your throat freely. Knowing that he’s so in control, so concerned over you, when he could use you how he pleased, could take what he wants makes you so wet.
You blink rapidly.
“No? Are you sure you -ha- can take it? I won’t let you spit it out,” he warns.
Sucking your cheeks in, you suction him closer. His cock head is rubbing the back of your throat, piercing burning, and with a shallow thrust, he’s cumming down your throat.
Hot liquid fills your mouth.
Suguru pulls out and you swallow the thick cream he leaves in your mouth. Your head slumps against his thigh, gasping for breath, heaving like you’ve just ridden a rollercoaster.
Hands tucking themselves under your arms, he lifts you onto his lap just as he sits back on his chair, boxers pulled up before you even realise what position you’re in now.
He rubs your back, muttering encouraging words about how perfect you were, how amazing you did, and how he knew you’d do well for him.
“Open,” he orders, bottom lip pulled down by his thumb. He inspects your mouth and smiles at what he sees. “Good girl.”
And then he’s kissing you, tasting both yours and his essence.
“No wonder Miguel gave me a funny look when I asked how many piercings you have,” you whisper against his lips, a high pulsing through your veins.
Suguru chuckles. “He’s a good guy, did all my piercings. Eased all my concerns every time and I knew I wanted him in my studio.”
You nod.
Your eyes are heavy and you’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, and pondering the change between you. You’ve accepted that you’re entering an unconventional relationship, that he’s going to introduce you to a world none of your friends had seen a glimpse of, but you won’t be navigating it by yourself.
He’ll lead you just as he had when you first started working here.
Softly, gently and with so much patience, you’ll be free to stumble as often as you need until you know who you are, what you want, and what you need to be.
“Get some sleep, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”
Is the last thing you hear before you fall deeper into sleep in his arms.
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#Suguru geto#suguru x reader#suguru fluff#suguru smut#jjk drabble#jjk oneshot#suguru geto
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“The big bad head of Onychinus, reduced to putty for my pussy,” you murmur before playfully adding, “What would your enemies say if they could see you now?” Sylus growls and nips at your inner thigh before answering with a kiss to your clit. “They’d say I’m one lucky bastard to have a woman like you,” he says before slipping his tongue inside you again. “And they’d be right. You’re mine, kitten... All mine.”
⟢ sylus×fem!reader
⟢ sexual content, 18+, anniversary sex, light bondage, face fucking, pussy eating, toys, teasing, squirting, kitten/sweetie used, pure smut, it's super soft
⟢ 2.3k wc
Your face lights up as you hear Sylus’s comforting footsteps approaching you in the hallway, a giggle escaping your lips when he enters the room and wraps you in a warm embrace. His strong hands glide down your body, pulling you closer for a kiss. You can hardly breathe when his forehead rests against yours, his voice affectionate as he murmurs, “Happy Anniversary, kitten.”
With a smile, he leads you to the bedroom, his arm around your waist and a secret surprise waiting. Whispering in your ear to close your eyes, he guides you to the center of the room. He holds you close, his voice hot and playful in your ear. “Alright, you can open them now…”
The space is bathed in soft candlelight, casting romantic shadows across the walls and floors. The scent of roses fills the air, their crimson petals scattered everywhere. Sylus’s record player softly spins a romantic tune, the gentle melody making your heart race. Your gaze falls on your bed, adorned with luxurious ties and bindings made from silk and leather.
Sylus’s hands slide up your sides, drawing you closer as he kisses your neck. “When did you even have time to do all this?” you ask breathlessly.
“I have my ways, kitten,” he murmurs, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “I wanted to make tonight special for us.” He turns you around in his arms, cupping your face in his hands and gazing into your eyes. “You deserve to be worshipped,” he says, his tone husky and simmering with emotion. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do...”
Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, he takes your chin between his fingers, guiding your gaze to the sheer black lace lingerie on the bed. He crafted it to trace every curve of your body, with a plunging neckline connecting to an elegant choker adorned with a single crimson gemstone—the same shade as Sylus’s piercing eyes. “Like what you see, sweetie?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire as his hands grasp your hips, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “Why don’t you go try it on for me?”
Excitement courses through your veins as you slip into the delicate lingerie. Sylus’s eyes follow your every move, hungrily taking in every inch of your body. With a seductive sway of your hips, you comply with his request to show off the back. His gaze roams from the crimson corset, hugging your curves to the way your ass moves beneath the fabric. A soft groan escapes his lips as he pulls you closer, his arousal evident against your lower back.
“I can’t wait to rip this thing off you,” he growls, nipping at your ear before trailing kisses down your neck. “I just put it on and you already want it off? You paid a pretty penny for this thing,” you tease, grinning up at him, adoration shining brightly in your eyes.
Chuckling, he leans down to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. “I’d pay any price for you,” he murmurs against your lips. His other hand trails down your body, brushing over the dampened lace covering your core. “Besides,” he says with a smirk, “I made sure to give myself easy access.” He flicks open the crimson buttons that cover you, exposing your soaked sex to him entirely.
Silk restraints wrap tightly around your wrists and ankles, holding you firmly in place as he kneels between your legs. His hot breath tickles your inner thigh before his tongue starts a painfully slow trail toward your pussy. A sly grin spreads across his face when you squirm in your restraints, spreading yourself wider for him.
“Put that pretty tongue inside me, baby? Please?” you whine, your hips jerking toward his mouth. But instead of fulfilling your request, Sylus blows a cool breeze across your flushed skin. “Patient is key, kitten…” he teases before tenderly kissing your clit, his tongue trailing down to your entrance to tease you with light flicks.
“I could spend all night devouring this pussy of yours,” he growls softly, sliding his tongue inside you and eagerly drinking up your juices. Your head falls back, a desperate whimper escaping you as you grind shamelessly against his mouth. “It’s all for you, Sy,” you moan, causing Sylus to groan in response, his cock throbbing in his pants. “I love how your body reacts to my touch,” he muses, pulling back to admire your trembling form and glistening folds.
Leaning back in, he captures your clit between his lips and sucks gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You can hardly catch your breath as you watch him pleasure you under the glow of the candlelight, his sharp features standing out and his crimson eyes glowing back at you from between your thighs. A frustrated groan escapes you as you throw your head back, hitting the pillow with a sigh.
“You’re way too pretty, Sylus… it’s infuriating,” you complain, grinding your hips harder against his mouth. A gasp escapes your lips as his teeth lightly graze your clit, and you whimper, “It’s not fair to tease me like this… to keep me from having you…” Sylus chuckles before gazing at your flushed face and heaving chest.
“You have no idea how much I want those pretty hands of yours on me right now,” he murmurs, his own hands sliding up to grasp your hips. “But I’m not done with you yet. Tonight, I want to hear you beg for my cock.” You watch as he teases your clit with lazy circles of his tongue, his slow smile against your slick heat causing your body to tremble.
“The big bad head of Onychinus, reduced to putty for my pussy,” you murmur before playfully adding, “What would your enemies say if they could see you now?” Sylus growls and nips at your inner thigh before answering with a kiss to your clit. “They’d say I’m one lucky bastard to have a woman like you,” he says before slipping his tongue inside you again. ���And they’d be right. You’re mine, kitten. All mine.”
He groans, watching your empty pussy clench around nothing at his words. Reaching for the nightstand, he retrieves a sparkly crimson dildo, its size and shape familiar to both of you. He gives a satisfied smirk when he sees your look of disbelief. “What can I say, kitten? I wanted to leave a piece of myself with you, even when I’m not here,” he murmurs, teasing your entrance with the tip of the toy.
“You want this inside you? Want me to fill you up with my cock?” he growls softly, his eyes darkening with lust. You spread your legs wider, your pussy grasping at air. “Yes, baby… please?” Chuckling, he slowly inserts the toy into you inch by inch, his own arousal growing as he watches the dildo disappear inside you.
With a soft kiss on your inner thigh, Sylus whispers, “How does it feel? Having me inside you?” as he begins to pump the toy in and out of your pussy. “I like it, but it’s not as good as when it’s really you,” you pout.
He smirks, leaning in for a soft kiss. “It’s torture to not be inside you, kitten. But I want to hear you scream my name first,” he confesses against your lips, his hand still working the toy inside you. You can’t help but watch the toy glisten as it stretches you wide.
“Even your cock is beautiful, Sy,” you murmur in a dreamy voice, completely drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you. Chuckling at your admiring gaze, he gently kisses your forehead. “Only you could make a compliment about my cock sound so sweet, kitten,” he teases softly, pushing the toy in deeper inside you with a grin.
“You’re so tight… I can’t wait to feel that around my cock,” he groans, his own excitement growing with each passing moment. When he senses your body tensing up, he takes your clit between his teeth. The toy deepens inside you, pulled even further by your tightening walls as waves of pleasure crash over you.
“That’s it, kitten… Let go for me,” Sylus whispers, thrusting faster and lapping at your sensitive bud with his tongue. Your orgasm rocks through you, exploding behind closed eyelids and leaving you breathless and trembling. With a soft, desperate voice, all you can think is, “I want to taste you too…”
Sylus releases a groan as he pulls the toy from your body, tossing it aside. Swiftly freeing his throbbing cock, he sits on your chest, positioning himself at your lips. “You don’t have to beg for that,” he murmurs, guiding the leaking tip into your waiting mouth.
“Open wide for me… Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours,” he growls softly, his fingers tangling in your hair. Pleasure courses through both of you as he begins to move his hips. “Your mouth feels so good,” he whispers as he watches his cock disappear between your lips, his gaze locked with yours.
Your heart swells with happiness at pleasing him like this, at being used by him in such an intimate way. When he pulls out, giving you a chance to catch your breath, you smile sweetly, your fucked-out expression only adding to his grin. “You fuck so good, Sylus… Is there anything you can’t do? I’m about to come again just watching you take me like this.”
“Flattery like that will get you anywhere, kitten,” he chuckles, sliding himself back into your mouth and thrusting deeply down your throat. “You take my cock so well.” His grip tightens on your hair as he quickens his pace, fucking your face with abandon.
His other hand finds your clit, tracing firm circles, sending you over the edge in an instant as you choke around his cock. He groans, cursing softly as your throat tightens around him during your climax, the sensation hurting him toward his own release. With a final thrust, he empties himself deep inside you before pulling out and stroking his shaft.
The last drops of his cum land on your lips before he captures them in a passionate kiss, savoring the mixture of his taste with yours. As soon as he releases you from your restraints, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your lips find his once again. The strangled sound he makes when you take him inside of you sends shivers down your spine.
His hands grip your hips tightly, grounding you as you begin to ride him. Your fingers trace the contours of his face as you whisper, “You are my safe haven, Sylus.” With a soft kiss, you add, “Thank you.” A tender smile graces Sylus’s face as he gazes up at you. “I’ll always keep you safe, kitten,” he promises before kissing you again. With a satisfied smile, you balance on the balls of your feet, bouncing on top of him. Entranced by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you, Sylus growls with pleasure. “I fucking love watching you take my cock,” he growls, meeting your thrusts with his own.
“Good… because I’m pretty sure I was made to take it,” you breathe out in bliss. The sound of skin slapping together echoes in the room as Sylus groans, his cock pulsing at your words. “Fuck… Keep talking like that, and I’m gonna…” he trails off.
As his groans grow louder, his cock pulsating within you, Sylus guides your hips faster and faster. “You want my cum, kitten? Want me to fill this tight little pussy?” Your answer is breathless but certain: “More than anything.” He pulls you close, holding you tightly as he buries his face in your neck, releasing a hoarse shout.
His hot cum fills you up, leaking around his shaft as his hips continue to thrust long after his pleasure subsides. “That’s it, kitten. Take every last drop,” he murmurs before flipping you onto your back and driving into you with even more force.
His mouth greedily captures your moans and whimpers with a smile. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips, never breaking eye contact as he relentlessly fucks you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you match his movements, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming pleasure.
Your release drenches both Sylus and the sheets beneath you, spurring him on to take you even harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he breathes in awe, watching as you writhe under him.
With one final thrust, he empties himself inside of you again, his hot release mingling with yours. You admire the sweat and slickness on his abs and can’t help but whisper, “...Holy fuck that’s hot.”
Sylus chuckles, gently kissing your forehead before flipping you back onto his lap. “Ready for round two?” he teases, his arousal quickly returning.
This time, you make love slowly, savoring each touch and kiss between sighs of pleasure. In between whispered words of love and appreciation, you thank him for the unforgettable night.
Sylus gives you a warm smile, holding you close as your bodies move together. “I’m happy I could give it to you,” he murmurs before capturing your lips again. “Unfortunately, I have to leave for business tomorrow morning,” he adds regretfully.
You hum in understanding, leaning in to kiss him as his hands grip your ass tighter, urging you to ride him harder. Breaking the kiss, his whisper is hot against your lips, “I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight, kitten...”
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PICNIC UNDER THE STARS-DREW STARKEY The day had started like any other, but by evening, Drew was acting strange. He kept glancing at the clock and pacing the living room, muttering something about “timing it perfectly.” When you asked what was going on, he only smirked and said, “You’ll see,” before grabbing your coat and insisting you follow him.
“Drew, what are we doing?” you laughed as he led you toward the stairwell of your apartment building instead of the front door.
“Patience,” he replied with a teasing grin. “And close your eyes. No peeking, Y/N!”
You rolled your eyes but obeyed, your heart fluttering as his warm hand wrapped around yours to guide you up the steps. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the stairwell, the air growing cooler with each floor you ascended. You were about to ask again what he was up to when Drew came to a stop.
“Okay,” he said, his voice soft now. “You can open them.”
You blinked your eyes open, and the sight before you stole your breath. The rooftop, which had always been plain and unremarkable, was transformed into something out of a movie. A large blanket was spread across the ground, covered with pillows and surrounded by strings of fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow against the night sky. A small portable speaker played one of your favorite songs softly in the background, and a wicker basket sat at the center of it all.
“Drew,” you whispered, turning to him in awe. “Did you, did you do all of this?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, a bashful smile creeping onto his face. “Yeah, I did. Took a few trips up here earlier today, but I really wanted to make it special.”
“Why?” you asked, though your heart already knew the answer.
His blue eyes met yours, earnest and full of affection. “Because you deserve it,” he said simply.
You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth of his words settling over you like a blanket. He reached out to take your hand again and led you to sit on the blanket.
For the next couple of hours, you laughed and talked as you shared snacks from the basket. Drew had packed all your favorites, he even managed to bring that obscure candy you’d once mentioned loving as a kid.
“You seriously remembered that?” you asked, holding up the wrapper in disbelief.
“Of course,” he said, grinning. “I pay attention to the important stuff.”
The night deepened, and the stars seemed to shine brighter as you and Drew cuddled under a blanket. His arm rested around your shoulders, pulling you closer as the music played softly in the background.
“You know,” he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Just sit under the stars with someone who matters.”
Your chest tightened at his words, and you turned your head to look at him. His face was lit by the soft glow of the fairy lights, and he looked so at ease, so content, that you couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, mission accomplished,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. “This is perfect, Drew. You’re perfect.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I am glad you like it. I’ve been planning this for weeks, you know.”
“Really?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.
He nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Yeah. I just I wanted to see you smile like that. Makes it all worth it.”
You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all. Instead, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to feel the way his breath hitched in surprise.
“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling back to meet his gaze.
His eyes softened, and he pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Anytime, Y/N. Anytime.”
The two of you stayed there for hours, wrapped up in each other and the beauty of the night, the world fading away until it was just you, Drew, and the stars above.
#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drewstarkey#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fic#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey fluff#drew x reader#drew starkey social media au#drew starkey smut#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you
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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ jim refuses to leave the office without you after your lame boyfriend forgets to pick you up from work.. again..
warnings: just a little bit of angst, jim is jealous and frustrated, comfort (?), slight fluff, cheating (but not really???)
a/n: ditzy!reader only has a boyfriend in this fic alone, not as part of her entire !reader lore <3 send in jim req’s!
“byeee!” you adjusted the pink scarf around your neck as phyllis and bob vance from ‘vance refrigeration’ drove away, both of them waving at you with wide smiles plastered on their faces. god, it was cold out here. “come on, roy..” you whispered to yourself, poking your head out to look at the entrance of the parking lot. small clouds formed with each breath you exhaled, the cold pennsylvania air nipping at the skin of your cheeks and the tip of your nose. you watched as everyone filed out of the building one by one, your heart sinking to your stomach as the sun set further down the horizon.
sighing out in frustration, you scrambled through your purse for your phone, the bag slipping from your fingers before the contents tumbled out onto the concrete. you laughed to yourself, just thinking about how much more embarrassing can this get. your boyfriend had obviously forgotten all about picking you up for the second time this week, your favorite lipglosses are rolling down the pavement, the tubes only getting further out of arm’s reach, and your skirt is far too tight for you to pick up your stuff without looking awkward and frazzled.
“this is the worst..” you speed walked down the parking lot, your heels clicking against the walkway until jim came out, wasting no time in jogging over. “hey, what are you still doing here?” he followed your line of vision, quickly getting your stuff off of the ground before towering over you. your cheeks always heated at the height difference between you two, a hint of a smile playing on jim’s lips when he saw the flustered expression on your pretty face. “n-no reason! uhm, something came up with roy, so i’m—” before you could finish whatever lie was going to slip from your tongue, he interrupted you.
“again? does he know it’s like twenty degrees out here?”
jim was irritated to say the least— but not with you. never at you. he took off his coat, draping it over your shoulders before guiding you back inside. “wait here while i go warm up the car real quick, alright?” he didn’t give you time to object, leaving you in the warm lobby as he stepped out in nothing but a button up. deciding to dial roy one more time, you rolled your eyes when the call went straight to voicemail. you should’ve known it wouldn’t have gone through. throwing the damned thing back in your purse, you didn’t wait longer than five minutes before jim pulled up right out front.
he opened the door for you, his face bright red from the cold as he motioned for you to come outside. “jim, you really don’t have to do this! i was just about to go to the bus stop.” you stayed seated, shrugging off his coat as he shook his head. “and let you sit out in this weather? absolutely not.” he almost sounded offended, his tall figure coming inside once again to scoop you up in his arms. “really, jim, it wouldn’t be the first time, i—” opening the passenger door, he sat you down gently, cutting you off before you could make up a ridiculous excuse for your boyfriend who clearly didn’t care if you froze halfway to death.
when jim was in his seat, he couldn’t help but squeeze the steering wheel with an unforgiving grip. “i’m sure roy got caught up with something, it’s fine, truly!” why were you still trying to defend him? roy was the last person who deserved to be with you. the guy doesn’t even send you work flowers for christ’s sake! he blatantly checks out other girls in front of you, which jim could never wrap his head around because to him you were the only person who existed inside of a room, he never let you go out with your work buddies, and he sure as hell never complimented you.. at least not in the way you should be getting complimented.
it took a lot to get jim upset, but seeing the way your smile falters when roy dismisses something you say, or the way the sparkle in your eyes dim when he doesn’t react to something new about you. your hair, for example. you had got it done, the style suiting you perfectly, making you look so cute and pretty, all just for roy to not even acknowledge your new ‘do. he remembered you having to excuse yourself to the ladies room and seeing your glossy eyes avoid everyone’s gaze as you zoned out of the conversation roy was so focused on rambling about once you came back.
so bad, jim just wanted to ask what on earth you saw in him. of course, he wouldn’t do that, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wrack his brain pretty often for an answer. “i’m sure he got busy,” jim agreed, not wanting to push the situation, “do you think he’s home?” you blinked. he definitely had to be at home. “no.” you lied, meeting jim’s eyes, “why?” please ask me out, please ask me out, you repeated in your head. “ah, well, i don’t know about you, but i can really go for a hot chocolate from retro’s..” retros. that was your usual spot for whenever jim treated you to lunch.. which was almost everyday.
please say yes, please say yes, he pleaded silently as a sudden smile made its way to your lips. “with jumbo marshmallows and a croissant?” jim chuckled. “yeah, whatever you want.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ ditzy!reader#₊˚⊹♡ jim halpert#the office#the office fanfiction#the office imagine#the office smut#the office x reader#jim halpert#jim halpert x reader#jim halpert fanfiction#jim halpert smut#jim halpert imagine
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i'm not gonna do a big year in review post like i did last year because on a strictly numerical level (a) i probably technically failed most of my resolutions and (b) i don't actually have the data because one of the ones i definitely failed was logging my habits to keep up, which i stopped doing in september when work got crazy and never picked back up. still ultimately i feel good about how things went down, generally. i didn't quite make this the year i got back into reading but i read more than i had the year before for sure, and i saw a lot of movies, most of them interesting or enjoyable, and some other art, too (the jenny holzer installation at the guggenheim, the ibsen play starring jeremy strong). i definitely listened to way more music. i got so good at hydrating by the end of the year that now i feel off if i drink less than 100 ounces a day lmao. i don't think i hit a 50% workout rate but i had a june that took working out off the map for several weeks and then when i tried to get back into it at the level i'd been doing before it sucked and i needed way more rest days for a long ass time; lesson learned for the future, and right now i feel like i have a good routine going. steps was kind of a similar story but this fall was pretty successful (having a zillion clients all over the goddamn city was helpful in that regard). i do want to be more proactive about it on a day to day basis because i do think it might help me sleep to hit that 10k or so (and i think it helps with soreness too, preventatively and amelioratively, which spellcheck says is not a word but should be!!) but i'm feeling more and more like flexibility is the name of the game in some things so while i will be tracking them daily/weekly/monthly this year, i will ultimately consider it a win if i get to december 31 with 3,650,000 behind me.
i fell off on logging and journaling, and never really got a handle on doing mobility work or meditating, but i finished the year feeling like while on the one hand it was nice to know i had enough structures in place to make it through my busy season a little on edge but never really losing my mind, i also felt like ignoring these things completely for a while ultimately as i look back drew my attention to why i wanted to make space for them in the first place; the morning routine stuff is where i get it together enough to check in on my life, process some stuff, and make adjustments as necessary; doing some kind of mobility stuff, even if it's just hitting the foam roller at bedtime, is just physically necessary if i want to keep working out the way i have been working out and i have to stop acting like i can have one without the other.
i decided for 2024 i didn't need to set a guideline around internet use the way i had in 2023, just an intention to be mindful, and, um, well that was a huge failure but an instructive one; again, lesson learned (and it's actually crazy how much even a guided 5 meditation in the morning alters my basic instincts for the rest of the day about when i want to Scroll). i didn't floss........ i should floss.
i did okay with doing Life Tasks semi-regularly and the attitude of "20 minutes Task Time per day" was helpful in some ways but didn't address the Giant Ever Growing Backlog Of Tasks I Have Been Putting Off For Months To Years, which suggests a need for a new approach; this year i'm gonna try a tip i read somewhere to plan out your tasks on a weekly basis, including scheduling them, not just throwing them on a "weekly to-do list," and aim for 5 a week. i gave up on 20 minutes of digital tidying per day and i think the answer there is just to not set a minimum above the minimum, so to speak. if i delete 5 emails or unsubscribe from 1 thing that counts.
i don't know how i wound up doing with my goal to have One Human Connection Per Day (At Least Half The Days Of The Year) but i had a lot of fun this year and i am finishing it feeling in many ways still awkward and neurotic but more connected and secure than i was a year ago, and feeling almost overwhelmed with how true it feels to say "my life is full of doing fun stuff with people i like" after all the years i spent convinced this was completely impossible for me to achieve. this year i don't think i'm going to slot this into my daily habits, partly because sometimes multiple things happen on one day or i text someone to initiate plans-making on the same day someone texts me, partly because the advice i saw about doing stuff also recommend task-batching and i think there may be some utility to that here as well, and partly because well i do have a schedule that is incredibly variable by week and season and this past fall for example i'm not sure i could have handled much more in september/october than free store + one fun thing a week which is more or less how it shook out for a while there. i also don't think i'm going to set a number because, well, i feel good about it right now. i do want to set a non-quantifiable intention to keep getting a little braver about forging new connections or deepening ones that are shallow but seem promising (serial killer way to say "making friends" sorry i am still in some ways quite Insane about this topic, the prime locus of my insanity for many years), and within that specifically to keep getting better at going to local stuff even when none of my closest local friends are going to be there as my security blanket lol. this year early on i finally texted someone i knew from pantry biz with whom i had exchanged mutual "we should hang out sometime" sentiments and it turns out that they're one of those people where once someone else makes the first move they welcome you in a lot so that the "hey, wanna catch a movie or something?" text i sent while deep breathing (because i am Insane) wound up leading pretty directly to a bunch of other incredibly fun 2024 memories, which is like almost irritatingly on the nose as a life lesson but otherwise very nice. relatedly (to texting that stresses me out because of my Problems) i want to get better at texting people back in a timely fashion and also at being more impulsive in a positive way about sending texts when people are on my mind.
the two things i feel real regret over this year are the reading thing and also writing... not a great year for writing, although i can at least look back on i would say three newsletters i'm proud of and one fic i was very glad to complete. i also did... okay... at contributing at the singles jukebox now that We're So Back on a monthly schedule. but i wrote basically nothing other than the occasional blurb after sometime in may and that feels bad and also suggests i need to find some way to integrate writing more reliably into my routine. i don't want to set a word count goal because part of what's going on is that i have some projects i'm picking away at that are more demanding of planning & brainstorming & slower more considered writing than my usual (beloved!) genres of Blogging and Fanfiction but i do think it needs to be quantifiable because ummm otherwise i simply will Not. so i am thinking this is a daily goal too. same goes for reading and in that case i do think i can set an outcome goal, which is 50 books.
ok well i guess this wound up being a year in review post anyway lmao. whatever it's capricorn season it's my time to shine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! neatened up resolutions post for my own ease of reference incoming shortly
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May you please do yandere platonic season 2 squid game reader with 13 year old reader who wants to stay
Hi can do!
Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Pʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ Sǫᴜɪᴅ Gᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Tᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
(MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS)
You had managed to get yourself into the games, congratulations..! I guess..
You tried to blend in but you stuck out like a sore thumb.
So many people had questions especially this guy named Gi-hun.
For some odd reason he was very insistent on you leaving.
You just couldn’t understand why, all you were gonna do was play some silly games for some cash.
How dangerous can that be?
During the first game red light green light, you knew you had this in the bag.
That was until the first shot was fired, your entire body froze. Even with Gi-hun screaming instructions you were still frozen.
Even when people began to start moving again you stood there frozen.
Tears are down your face, you were terrified.
Then someone grabbed your shoulder, it was this lady with a lip ring(player380).
She guided you along the field.
You had 30 seconds left, the people that were at the finish line screamed words of encouragement towards you.
It was strange to have so many people cheering you on all at once.
You crossed the line finally, and collapsed into player 380’s arms.
After the game you sat on the floor, ignoring the sympathetic looks from others.
You sat there thinking on what to do.
Thats when player 388 came and sat with you, he introduced himself and his friends to you.
“Are you ok..?” Gi-hun asked in a tone that could only be described as pity.
“Yea.. I think” you said quietly.
That’s when armed guards came in, they told y’all about the voting system and how you could vote to stay in the game or not.
Everyone placed their votes when it was your turn the room became eerily silent.
You could feel everyone’s eyes staring at you. Your hand hovered over the X button but then you thought about it.
About your parents and their struggle, you thought about all the loans they had to take out just to keep you in school.
You hesitated before pushing the O button.
You heard a collection of gasps and cheers.
You slowly walked towards the O side avoiding Gi-Huns look of disbelief.
You were met with pats on the back and words of support.
Then in a flash you were pulled to the side by some purpled haired guy(thanos) he did his whole introduction.
You thought he was insane, he looked cracked out.
But every time you tried leaving he would pull you back.
He looked at you as if you were an artifact that needed safe keeping.
Fortunately you pulled away by dae-ho(388).
That was when you met player 001(frontman) he stared at you intensely studying you.
They questioned you on why you chose O but you didn’t feel like explaining yourself.
From then on you had multiple people trying to convince you to join their side. They wanted you to quit the game.
You protested you wanted to stay in, but no matter what you said they never let up.
You started to not like the people you were stuck with.
Part of the reason was they treated you like a baby, some of them even coddled you.
It was nice a first, people gave you some of their food, they lended their protection to you.
But in the end it became much more annoying rather than loving.
Around the second game is when things got really bad.
People all around you offering for you to join their team, you walked around until you got pulled onto Thanos team.
You were in charge or spinning top and all though you were good you could barely focus with all the people yelling.
You managed but not before yelling some very unkind words.
After the games you had people practically swarming you, you wanted to cry and throw up all at the same time.
Then a miracle happened, player 001 pulled you out of the crowd.
Yelling at them all while holding you close to himself.
He held you close for a while, it got kinda awkward after the first 20 minutes.
It was a very overwhelming experience being in the game, along with the killing games, people were starting to seriously scare you.
I mean they were having full on arguments over you. It was kinda insane.
Even the guards treated you differently, they gave you the occasional head pat after a game, they slipped you extra food, and no matter what time it was they always let you use the restroom.
It was nice to have so many people care about you but care becomes smothering after a while.
You started becoming the apple of everyone’s eye, everyone was just so 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.
A/n: I hoped you liked this one, I love u all so much bye bye✌︎('ω')✌︎
#platonic yandere#yandere fanfiction#yandere platonic#yandere squid game#squid game#front man#gi hun#thanos#yandere headcanons#yandere oneshot
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walking people through all my interactive AR experiences at AWE has made me realize that I literally do not need to care about anyone who approaches my work with disrespect
I guided hundreds of people through portals to other worlds, dandelion forests, carnival games we could all play together, toys and collaborative paintings and just pure magic - and 99% of them clearly experienced joy and awe unlike anything they’d ever seen before…
and the small handful of people who still managed to be negative after all of that were clearly just unhappy individuals who had some kind of personal issues entirely unrelated to anything I was doing or sharing with them.
one guy was literally mad that our marketing wasn’t good enough on our business card. like… that is so vastly unimportant. I’m just here to bring people joy and show them something new - if someone can’t let that in, it’s extremely incredibly not my problem.
#auropost#our cards were fine btw they have our name#and a qr code that goes to our website which has contact links#there were like maybe 2 guys out of over 200 people#who clearly had ego issues and either loved to hear themselves talk (while recording themselves)#or who just seemed to think they were more important than everyone else and deserved special treatment#i’ve been so proud of how i’m learning to handle people though#all i do is guide them back to play over and over and over again#and if they don’t follow me i talk to them and learn more about them#and help them if they are confused and ignore them if they are rude#but literally it was like only 3 people the entire time who were even slightly negative#which is incredible considering the sheer volume of demos we did#everyone else was so happy and willing to play and create#and it gave me so much hope
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"fnaf is the scariest game ever" "no its silent hill" "well i think its resident evil" everyone shut up!!!!!! youre all wrong. its actually zack & wiki quest for barbaros' treasure (on the nintendo wii) but only the level "keeper of the ice". that level scared me so bad as a kid and you can tell because its the only individual level i remember the name of off the top of my head. like there is nothing scarier than a) being chased and b) being on a time limit. and you know what this level has? BOTH OF THOSE. this level is still scary to me im like AHHHHH!!!! and then i die
#i had to google horror games after i thought really hard for silent hill and fnaf#because like. resident evil is just not a horror game in my mind... its just cool zombie game...#to be fair though. the only one i actually played a portion of was re6 which is probably the least scary one in the whole series#anyway do the kids still find silent hill and fnaf scary. i dont know.#well the former id say yes given how prevalent ps1 horror has been in recent years#fnaf i have no idea. im a massive wuss so its scary when i play it for myself#but watching someone else play them especially when i know them well isnt scary#and ive watched fnaf videos for YEARS#so i dont know. (old man voice) these damn kids... back in my day we watched markiplier scream at freddy fazbear and we LIKED it!#anyway its objectively a horror game and thata literally fine thats all i needed for this post#MY POINT HERE. my point here#IS THAT HIT ZACK AND WIKI LEVEL KEEPER OF THE ICE. IS SOOOOO SCARY#its not that scary but i see tjat level and im like 3 years old making my mom play this level for me again#and for the record yes me and my sister really did make our mom help us with z&w#she remembers helping us with frost breath the most because we like did notttttt get that one at all#and she could never remember how to do the mirrors based on what combination of stands is there (because tjeres like a few variations)#so she always had to look up a guide 😭😭#my poor mother on fucking gamefaqs or something in like 2010... legends only#anyway if you have no idea what level im talking about (any of my oomfs reading this that isnt end) (hi end) PLEASE look up this level#and i need you to think of like a 5(?) year old making her mom play this game.#this aforementioned child is still a massive wuss as an adult btw. some things never change#anyway watch that level and think about how someone like me. whos already a scaredy cat!#imagine how someone like me felt at age 5 possibly younger playing this level#I WISH I COULD LIKE CONVEY EMOTIONS OVER TUMBLR. why cant i attach a .emotion file to this post#anyway ramble over <- hes said that like a million times today#scariest level in a game ever...!!!!! FUCK that keeper of the ice bitch im GLAD he died#muffin mumbles
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There always seems to be one kid who just screams like a tornado siren, all day long, at any given opportunity. Like, kid, I love you, you are precious and deserve all the happiness in the world; but please for the love of god shut up. There are people trying to learn here and you’re not helping them or yourself.
#I don’t like being harsh with people in general but if one child is raising the tension in the room to a fever pitch every single day#making it incredibly hard for the kids who are trying really really hard to focus when they already have focus issues#and because I know this specific kid gets absolutely spoiled rotten at home and is allowed to do whatever they want#you know… sometimes it helps to show the kid how they sound to others by demonstrating the obnoxious nature of The Scream#because when the parents do Jack Shit about teaching their kid discipline and courtesy; you have to be a parent in their stead#But do NOT continue to scream. You are an adult with adequate emotional control. Screaming should be be done EXTREMELY sparingly#and only utilized for demonstration purposes or to stop a brawl; not for bullying or intimidation#Don’t do a JoJo Siwa and TRY to make kids cry even though you may get stressed enough that you want to escalate on purpose#Again: you are an adult with adequate emotional control; don’t escalate unless the overreaching plan is to deescalate#if eliciting a startle response will stop harmful behavior and “snap them out of it” for long enough for you to get through#or if they just need to let all their emotions out at once so they can lose enough of that high energy to think critically#then sure#but you have to guide them back down very carefully and calmly; it’s a precise science#Don’t be mean about it; be genuine in your feelings and don’t go overboard. Genuine ≠ mean unless you’re evil#Or if you don’t feel emotions very strongly (like I do) then react like a “normal” person. Lie about being angry or sad if it is appropriat#Again: Your goal should not be to get the kid to do what you want; the goal should be to get them to feel good enough#so they are ABLE to do it in the first place#And the goal should also be to show them how their actions affect others if they are not aware of it#“Teach a man to fish” and all that. Don’t always check them; get them to check themselves#If a kid hits another kid when they’re angry at something completely unrelated; then 1.) redirect destructive behavior#and 2.) walk them back over to the kid they hurt and say:#“Look at [name]; look how sad you made them. [name] didn’t do anything to you#It’s okay to be angry but we CANNOT hit people when we are angry because it hurts and makes them cry.” Works great#Always remember there is a power imbalance inherent in EVERY child-adult relationship and NEVER abuse it#And if you’re not patient or emotionally stable enough to work with or have children; then don’t. Please don’t.#Children are not cute little dolls to play dress-up with; nor are they perfect angels; nor are they your personal stress ball#Having children is NOT A GAME. They are PEOPLE who will grow to be your age one day and everything you do affects them#Sorry I’m just tired of all these parents who shove iPads in their kids faces so they don’t bother them. You’re giving them an addiction
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MOTW NPC Rach Lombardi, Mark's toxic ex who got ripped to shreds by dogman and then whose revenant ghost latched onto someone else who was on their own dogman revenge quest (player character Tatara)
she's fun.
#ragsycon exclusive#ragsymakes#artists on tumblr#oc art#monster of the week#oc rach#she's conniving and self-serving and manipulative#which means she's very fun to play in game. love to rp an absolute garbage person#she and mark dated for awhile in their early to mid twenties#it was all around a really terrible relationship but he didn't really know it until well afterwards.#the entire time what he thought was positive attention was really just her using him to get what she wanted#up to and including using him as leverage to get to his brother stuart who she was seeing behind mark's back for a while#and he found out by complete chance. walked in on them after getting home from work early#and to mark's shock and disgust at this betrayal she just said 'eh that's fine. i was done with you anyway' and kicked him out right there#mark had a fairly significant breakdown over it and just. left town. ghosted everybody and got a job at a watchtower deep in the woods#didnt talk to anyone for years. became an unwitting forest cryptid (different can of worms). let all of his baggage fester for way too long#until stuart managed to get a hold of him and invited him on a Brotherly Reconciliation Camping Trip And Rach Is There Too#and rach did what she's good at which was needling mark's insecurities and insisting he's overreacting when he got upset#but at this point mark was possessed by an evil spirit that turned him into a feral dogman when angry (again. different can of worms)#and the dogman came out and attacked and killed her. total carnage. stuart was away getting firewood when it happened.#mark at this point had no memory of any of this dogman transformations so he woke up covered in blood next to rach's corpse and freaked out#as did stuart#so this Brotherly Reconciliation Camping Trip was kinda the last time they've seen each other since#and later on rach's earthbound ghost finds someone who is on a revenge quest for several other deaths at the hands (paws?) of the dogman#and this other person is already being guided by the spirits of her deceased loved ones#and rach. ever the opportunist. latches onto the other person to maybe get vengeance for her own death#sapping away the strength from the other spirits to make herself strong enough to DO anything#to say 'how fucking dare you' when the other person chooses to offer mark mercy instead of outright killing him#to decide she can finally take matters into her own hands and take over the other person's body and do the dirty work herself
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ohhhh the witcher 3 is getting on my nerves again. this game hates me specifically!!!!
#spent several hours over the last few weeks learning gwent and trying to complete the collect em all mission#ONLY TO DISCOVER. WHILE LOOKING AT A GUID FOR CARD LOCATIONS.#that the guy who serves as a gwent tutorial at the VERY BEGINNING of the game gives u a card if u beat him#and obviously i did not best him bc im only NOW getting good at gwent#and theres just no other way to collect that card#and even tho usually the missions fail if u cant complete them anymore (makes sense) for some reason the gwent one DOESNT#SO I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COMPLETE THE SET#so now i just. the ONLY way to complete this achievement is to start an entire new game from scratch#which u know like whatever. its a side thing. its not important. but i really like gwent and i wanted to collect them all!!!#like do i REALLY want to spend 30+ hours all over again JUST to get ONE achievment??#all bc the game didnt fail the mission i had no chance of finishing from the moment i unlocked it???#its pissed me off so much i dont even want to play it anymore 😭😭 NG+ doesnt even let u keep ur cards#so i cant even beat the game and then go back for it!!!!#its just. ugh. for a game this massive i feel like there should be more than one chance to collect an item important to side quests??????
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thinking about movie night with nanami. You’re sitting in his lap comfortably, head resting on his shoulder while you giggle at the movie. But nanami doesn’t care for the movie when two of his thick fingers are plunged deep inside of your pussy. He’s moving them so slowly, teasing you as he pumps them in and out. Every now and then you’ll grip onto his arm that’s holding you in place, getting too distracted before he corrects you. “Focus on the movie, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear all while massaging your g-spot. He’s so cruel to you but he’s enjoying playing with you. Your eyes will slip down to where his fingers are, can’t help but stare at the way his fingers disappear into your sopping hole. You see them glisten with the glow of the tv light and bite down on your bottom lip as grow needier for more. “Eyes up.” He guides your chin up, holding your jaw in place. With every passing minute you feel yourself growing wetter and wetter, and your heart beat faster and faster sneaking glances and letting out stifled whimpers every now and again.
The pads of his fingers run up your slit, rubbing your swollen clit in small circles making you tense up. A shaky breath escapes your throat, and you’re trying your best to focus on the movie but it’s so hard to when he’s whispering such filthy things in your ear. “You want my fingers back inside that pretty pussy? I bet it feels so good to be stuffed full, huh?” He smirks against your skin. All you do is nod, gently grinding your hips against his hand because you’re done playing by the rules. You reach for his wrist, moving his hand downward back to your fluttering hole. “Is that where you want me?” He breathes against your skin. Just before you could answer he plunges his fingers back inside, your pussy making the most lewd squelch ever. “Just lean back and feel good, darling.” He held you against him tightly while he worked you open with his fingers, pressing and dragging his fingers against your g-spot with more pressure.
“Hear that?” He dragged his fingers in out of your soaked cunt, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at how wet you were. “Is this all for me? If so, it’d be a shame if I didn’t get a taste.” His fingers reached up to his mouth, sucking your juices off like you were the best thing he’s ever tasted. Your body shuddered in anticipation, as he brought his fingers back down to your pussy, gathering more of your slick. “Have a taste, baby.” Without hesitation you opened your mouth, feeling his fingers lay flat on your tongue where you tasted yourself on him. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Such a good girl for me.” He grabs your chin, planting his lips on yours, his tongue sliding past your lips and into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as he began fingering you again, going faster than he was before.
You pull away, breathing heavily as you feel yourself growing closer to cumming. “Ken,” you whimper, your nails digging into his forearm while your legs begin to shake. “Oh fuck,” you squeak, your jaw slack as you become mesmerized by the view in front of you. Nanami kisses your neck gently, watching as well, feeling the way your walls tighten around him.
“I can feel it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you wanna cum,” he huskily says, moving his fingers faster on purpose.
“Please, let me cum! I need it so bad, Ken! You always make me feel so good, baby,” you cry out, your chest moving up and down rapidly.
“Good girl. Let it out for me.” As if on command, clear liquid gushes from your cunt, soaking his hand and couch in the process but he doesn’t dare stop. “There you go, sweetheart. There you fucking go.” He kisses you tenderly as he drags every last bit of your orgasm out of you until your entire body is shaking. He removes his fingers, gently slapping your messy pussy, chuckling when you whine at the sensation. His thumb toys with your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “What a mess you’ve made.” He clicks his tongue at you.
“You’re no fair!” You pant, gasping when applies pressure to your clit.
“I think a thank you would be better. What do you think?” He looks at you with fox like eyes, and you can’t help but stare back with such desperation.
“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath.
“Atta girl.” He slaps your pussy a few more times causing you to buck your hips. “Now, keep watching the movie. I’m not finished playing with you.”
#—☆classyrbf#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk nanami#nanami drabble#nanami smut drabble#jjk drabble#jjk smut drabble#nanami x y/n#nanami x you
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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂
▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader
▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it
▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2
BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:
Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…
He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…
You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—
“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”
“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.
His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.
“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”
“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…
Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—
“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.
“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.
“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”
“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”
“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”
Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...
Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.
The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…
And he did.
“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.
“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.
“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—
“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…
“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”
“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.
“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…
Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.
“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…
“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.
“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”
He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.
Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.
“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.
“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.
His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…
At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.
“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.
“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”
“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…
“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.
“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.
You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…
However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.
And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:
You forgot to put your engagement ring on…
You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…
Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…
“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.
“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”
“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”
You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.
“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.
“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.
“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.
“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.
You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.
“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.
“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.
“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.
“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”
“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.
“Louder…”
“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…
He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.
The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.
“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.
“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.
He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.
“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.
“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.
“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—
“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.
He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.
“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”
All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.
Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.
“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.
“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”
⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash
@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl
@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr
⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs
@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij
@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess
@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier
@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408
also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...
#stray kids#skz#bangchan x reader#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan smut#stray kids smut#bang chan smut#bang chan#bangchan#bang chan stray kids#skz smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#stay kids bang chan#kpop smut#stray kids hard hours
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leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you’ve decided to get intimate for the first time with your boyfriend, and who better to ask for advice than his best friend?
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, kissing, oral sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v, possessive sex, praise kink, cheating/infidelity
wc: 4.4k
a/n: i don't support cheating at all, this idea just would not leave me so erm... i just had to write it
also on ao3!
You might be a little in over your head.
Sure, the entire thing had been your idea, but now that you’re standing outside of Leon’s apartment, duffle bag clutched in hand, you think you might’ve made the wrong decision.
But… you did really like your boyfriend.
It was why you were doing all of this after all. You wanted the first time with your new boyfriend to be perfect, especially after your last relationship had practically turned out to be a disaster. The sex hadn’t been enjoyable and the heated conversations between you and your ex even more so.
So, who better to ask for advice than your boyfriend’s best friend?
Eyes squeezing shut, you mutter a few words of self-encouragement. The doorbell looks oddly ominous when you open your eyes again.
You weren’t even sure why Leon had agreed to this entire thing. He’d always just been there, barely acknowledging your presence at all. All in all, you were convinced Leon hated you. It didn’t matter though, you didn’t particularly like the man either. Leon was just an unfortunate addition to things you had to endure.
An irritated huff of air leaves you and your hand jerks out, your own body having grown tired of your indecisiveness. The doorbell rings promptly and you shift on your feet, biting your lip nervously.
When the door creaks open, you have half the mind to run away. Leon’s gaze keeps you pinned in place however, his bored eyes dipping over you, brows raising slightly when he sees the duffle bag you were holding.
“You were serious about this, huh?” Leon asks, crossing his arms over his chest, peering down at you.
“Uh- well,” you begin, tongue feeling heavy, “I- I can just leave,” you laugh awkwardly, “you’re probably busy and I don’t want to bother you and-”
“Stop rambling,” he interrupts, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice, “just get inside.”
You’re grateful for his timely intervention, nodding rapidly and stepping inside. Taking off your shoes, you place them by the door neatly, not wanting to annoy Leon even more. He motions with his fingers and you follow him in, letting him guide you into his bedroom.
“What’s the bag for?”
“Oh, I packed a couple of outfits,” you shrug, watching as he sits down on his chair, “thought you might be able to tell me which one would work the best.”
Leon stares at you blankly, his lips pursing.
“You’re fucking weird.”
A sharp scoff leaves you, your eyes narrowing as you glare at the man in front of you. “You agreed to help me!”
“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Leon retorts.
You glare at him a little more and he lets out an exasperated sigh, motioning for you to sit down on the edge of his bed. You do as he says, although your movements are begrudging, feeling miffed.
“So?” He asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “what do you want to know?”
“Se- sex stuff,” you reply casually, although your posture betrays you. It’s difficult to feel comfortable around Leon, his gaze uncomfortably intense and probing. You don’t think you’ve ever sat with your back this straight for so long before.
“Watching porn would’ve solved that problem for you,” Leon says drily.
“You’re a real asshole, Leon.”
He rolls his eyes at your jab, slouching a little further in his chair, thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. Leon’s fingers tap against the arm-rest, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn’t feel anymore awkward, agitatedly playing with your fingers in your lap.
“Can’t you just tell me what he likes?” you blurt out, growing desperate, “you guys talk about that stuff, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Leon says, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Just do what feels natural. Sex isn’t supposed to be something you spend weeks worrying about.”
It’s surprisingly solid advice…but Leon could’ve told you all of this over text. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly.
“But what if he doesn’t like it?” you mumble, averting your gaze.
“Then he’ll tell you,” he says, hands clasping together. Leon gives you another once-over, tilting his head. “Go get changed, let’s see those outfits.”
You nod, tugging your bag into his bathroom and pull on your first outfit. It’s a pretty dress, flowy and a little short, but you’d figured it’d be a good pick.
“What do you think?”
Leon’s eyes flick up to meet yours, silently evaluating the dress. His brows furrow for a moment, something imperceptible passing through his eyes before he shakes his head. A sigh escapes you, but you disappear back into his bathroom obediently to pull on your next outfit.
Leon doesn’t like that one. He doesn’t like the one after either. Your patience is running thin by the time you’ve changed into your fourth outfit, a nice top and skirt. You tuck your hair behind your ears, staring at yourself in the mirror. You look cute, at least from your perspective. You don’t understand what he finds so unappealing about your sense of style. Leon’s eyes barely drift over you before he’s shaking his head again.
“Pass,” Leon drawls, looking bored out of his mind as he slouches in his chair. Irritation festers inside of you, teeth gritting together as Leon simply ignores you, scrolling through his phone.
“This is cute!” you protest, looking down at the outfit you put together, “I look cute!”
“If that makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that,” he replies, not sparing you a second glance.
“You’re the worst!” you snap, stomping back into the bathroom.
Your temper gets the best of you when you scrutinize your irritated reflection, cheeks flushed with anger, the stress of being here with Leon bubbling past your own breaking point. You tug your top off, along with your bra, bathroom door slamming open as you move to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.
“How about now, asshole?”
Leon’s eyes widen when he sees your bare chest, surprise making his grip on his phone falter, the device falling towards the carpeted floor as he stares at your tits. His jaw seems to go slack, a sharp breath of air getting sucked in as he stares for a bit longer. You glare at him, chest rising and falling, watching as his gaze dips over the curve of your waist.
“They’re just tits,” he says nonchalantly.
Leon’s expressions betray his true emotions, however. You catch the bob of his throat as he swallows, the subtle clench of his jaw as he stares at your tits. Your eyes dip down between his thighs and a small smile spreads across your face when you spot the bulge forming in his shorts.
“Do you like ��em?” you ask, tilting your head.
“What?” Leon sputters, his cheeks flushing lightly.
“Do you like ‘em?” you repeat, taking a step closer, “my tits, Leon.”
He swallows again, trying and failing to look away from your tits. “They’re fine,” he manages out after a moment, “normal, or whatever.”
That makes a frown pull at your lips. Your head tips down, taking in your own breasts. They weren’t anything special, but you thought they looked nice, at least. Embarrassment has your skin crawling, cheeks heating up when you realize how stupidly you’ve been acting.
You move to turn on your heel, but Leon stops you, his hand curling around your wrist. He tugs you forward, your feet stumbling slightly as he pulls you until you're standing between his spread legs.
“Maybe I should feel them,” Leon offers, peering up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “might- might help me judge a bit better.”
Surprise flits across your face, heat shooting through your body. You really shouldn’t let him do this, you shouldn’t even have your tits out in the first place but when Leon’s hand lands on your waist, all rational thought seems to leave you.
“Okay,” you whisper, “you can touch.”
Both of Leon’s hands are on your waist now, sliding upwards. You bite your lip to stifle a whine, back arching to push your chest into his touch when his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts.
Leon lets out a low hum, stroking his thumb over the same place again, staring intently at your hardened nipples. His fingers reach for them, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he tugs lightly before letting go, watching as your breasts move at the sensation.
“Gonna let me taste ‘em too?,” he asks, pinching your nipples again before rubbing his thumbs over your areolas.
“T- taste?” you echo, feeling your breath catch in your throat when Leon leans forward, his touch growing greedier as he grasps at your tits, squeezing the fat roughly. Your legs shake slightly, little twitches running up through your body and Leon notices, pulling you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs as he helps you climb up onto his lap.
You can feel how hard he is when your cunt presses up against his clothed cock, a low whine slipping out of you at the feeling. Leon grins, squeezing your breasts a few more times, seemingly taken with tugging your nipples and watching your breasts bounce back into place.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, “just let me put my mouth on you, hm?”
A single nod leaves you and Leon takes it as permission to kiss the space between your breasts. He’s surprisingly gentle with you, peppering soft kisses around your breast and over your nipples. Leon’s tongue lolls out before long, a groan emanating from him as he pulls you flush against him, his hips bucking up into your clothed cunt.
You gasp, fingers settling in his hair, pulling his head closer. Leon’s mouth opens wider, sucking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking across your nipple harshly as he silently urges your hips to move against him. You do as he wants, grinding against his lap, mewling when he sinks his teeth into the fat of your tit. He switches his attention to your other tit, sucking it into his mouth, pressing his hand into your back to make your chest jut out so that he can get more of you into his mouth.
“Do oh- do you like my tits now, Leon?” you ask breathily.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” he mumbles out drunkenly, “love your tits, baby.”
A light flush covers your cheeks when Leon pulls away, both of your chests rising and falling. He stares up at you, perched on his lap prettily, his hands squeezing at your waist soothingly. Your hazy eyes dip down to his lips, fingers tightening into his shirt as you imagine his lips on yours.
That would make everything all the more real however, so you refrain, simply peering down at him. Leon can see the uncertainty that makes you squirm, the flash of guilt that seems to dim down the spark in your eyes. He doesn’t exactly like the situation either, what the two of you are doing, but when your lower lip juts out into a cute, little pout, Leon wonders what might’ve been if he’d gotten to you first.
“We should stop,” he says after a while, fingers tapping the sides of your thighs.
“Yeah,” you murmur, humiliation flitting across your face, “we should.”
Leon helps you get off his lap, smoothing his hand over the ruffles in your skirt. It’s a weirdly considerate action and too out of place for him. You disappear into the bathroom, pulling your top back on. Leon waits for you, his eyes dipping to the bulge in his shorts. It’s uncomfortable, his half-hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.
A heavy sigh leaves him, his hand reaching down to adjust himself before you come out.
“Thank you for letting me come over,” you mumble as he walks you over to his door.
“Don’t mention it,” Leon murmurs, his voice low.
Don’t mention it. You know deep down you won’t be mentioning anything to your boyfriend.
You go to open the door, but before you can, Leon’s stepping up behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he cages you in against the door. A soft whine spills out of you when he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.
“You’re making things difficult,” he says, voice muffled with how closely he’s pressed his face into your neck.
“I- I’m leaving,” you retort weakly, managing to get your hand on the doorknob.
He hums, pressing one of his hands against the door, keeping it shut.
“Leon,” you sigh exasperatedly, “we can’t. You’re the one who said we should stop.”
“If I hadn’t said that, would you have stayed?”
The question hangs in the air. Your silence is answer enough. Leon’s mouth on your tits had been more than enough to convince you to stay, the memory of his clothed cock pressed up against your panties making you bite back another whine. His hand has begun to slide to your leg, smoothing up over your skin and under your skirt.
“Tell me,” Leon coaxes, his fingers grazing your panties, “would you have stayed?”
A strangled gasp is your response as he presses the pads of his fingers up against your panties. Leon lets out a low laugh, landing a soft kiss to your neck, his fingers rubbing at your cunt through the fabric of your panties.
Your head tips forward, forehead pressing against the door and mouth opening in a silent moan when Leon rubs faster. He trails kisses down your neck before nuzzling into the crook of it, pressing you against the door harder to grind his cock into your ass.
“C’mon, baby,” he urges again, “I wanna hear you say it.”
“I- I hate you,” you grit out but you rock your hips across his hand anyways, wanting more friction against your pussy.
Leon clicks his tongue, drawing his fingers away.
“Ngh- nooo,” you whine, trying to get his hand back to where you want him to touch you, “Leon!”
It’s too late though, Leon’s already unlatched himself, taking a few steps back to put some space between you two. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, pursing his lips as he stares down at you.
“You’re a piece of shit, Leon.”
“You know, that makes me less inclined to want to touch you.”
“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up, “I’ll just do it myself.”
“W- what?” Leon blurts out, gaze fixated on the sway of your hips as you push past him. He watches as you settle down onto his couch, your head tipping back as your hand disappears under your skirt and slips past the band of your panties.
A soft sigh escapes you when you touch yourself, eyes fluttering shut. You’re wet thanks to Leon, body squirming as your fingers circle your swollen clit to find some relief.
“Fuck,” Leon hisses, watching as you masturbate on his couch without a care in the world. His cock throbs painfully and he’s dropping to knees before he can stop himself, hands grabbing at your legs.
“No,” you glare at him when he tries to pull your panties down, swatting his hand away.
“Please?” he pleads, eyes darkened with lust, “baby, please? I- I just wanna see.”
“‘m not your baby,” you grouse, trying to shove his face away as your fingers slide through your slick folds.
“You could’ve been,” Leon mutters.
He looks a little bitter and you raise your brows in question. “You hate me.”
“No I don’t,” he replies, nuzzling into your knee, lips pressing against your skin in a gentle kiss, “I want you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur, rolling your eyes when he manages to capture your wrist in his hand, stopping you from pushing him away. A soft gasp escapes you when he curls his arms over your thighs, spreading you open for him.
“Been wanting to fuck you ever since he brought you ‘round,” Leon whispers, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, “you’re so pretty.”
You mewl, hips bucking as he pulls your panties down your legs. Leon’s eyes darken as your fingers move, spreading apart the folds of your pussy so he can get a good look.
“Fuck,” he groans, “pussy’s so fucking wet, baby.”
Your fingers run through his soft hair, pulling his head closer. Leon goes more than willingly, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your pussy. He lets out a guttural moan, arms tightening around your thighs, hands disappearing up your top to squeeze at your tits as he all but shoves his face into your cunt.
“You- oh- you should apologize, Leon,” you whisper, pushing his head away when he tries to suck your clit into his mouth. “You didn’t like any of my outfits and you were mean.”
“Are you serious?” he asks, trying to nuzzle back into your pussy.
You nod, and he groans, half-lidded eyes never straying from your leaking cunt.
“‘m sorry,” he breathes out, inching closer and managing to land a soft kiss to your aching clit, “‘m sorry, okay? I was an asshole and fuck-” Leon shudders, nudging past your hand to kiss your clit again as his eyes meet yours, “I didn’t him to want to see you like that, all pretty and dolled up.”
There’s a strange fluttering sensation in your chest, heart skipping a beat at his confession. You stare down at him, letting him kiss your clit one more time before you rub your fingers through your folds, pressing your slick fingers against his mouth. Leon moans, mouth opening, sucking your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them.
“Don’t stop,” you mumble when Leon licks your pussy again.
He hums, squeezing at your tits, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples as he eats you out. Soft mewls spill from your mouth, hips rocking to meet his mouth, back arching to press more of yourself against him.
You jerk in his grasp, an involuntary twitch running through your body when he strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit gently, his tongue burying itself inside of you.
“Leon,” you whine, tugging at his hair while your head tips back, “‘m close.”
He doubles his efforts when you say that, pinching your nipples roughly as he slurps and sucks at the wetness of your pussy. The sounds are lewd, the soft smack of his lips around your slick folds and aching cunt making you flush.
“Taking my fingers so good,” he whispers, pushing two of his fingers inside of your cunt and cooking them so that they brush against your sensitive spot.
You fist his hair tighter, moans growing louder as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his mouth latching onto your clit, tongue flicking and stroking across the swollen bud before sucking hard.
“Ah!” you squeak out, shoving his face further into your cunt, thighs trapping his face and squeezing tight as you cum, body shuddering and toes digging into his back, “Leon!”
Leon groans into your cunt, taking your orgasm eagerly, sucking and licking at your wetness, drinking it down. He huffs a breath when you try to push his head away, moving your hand away to lick over your pussy despite your twitching thighs and the painful grip you have on his hair.
He pulls away finally with a kiss to your clit, grinning up at you, his eyes hazy with lust. The lower half of his face is wet and Leon licks his lips before leaning towards you, his nose nudging against yours.
“Kiss me, sweetheart.”
You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He stares up at you, lips parted and you lower your head, hesitation and guilt forgotten as you press your lips against his. Leon lets out a contented sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist, lips moving against yours eagerly.
He gets off of his knees and crawls on top of you instead, hips slotting between your thighs. Your legs wrap around his waist, kissing him languidly and gasping into his mouth when he grinds his clothed cock against your bare cunt.
“Want it?” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck, “want my cock, baby?”
“We- we shouldn’t,” you whisper weakly, watching as he sits back to pull his shirt up over his head.
You gulp nervously when you see his bare upper half, cunt clenching at the sight of his muscled abdomen and thick biceps. Leon ignores you, his lips slotting over yours again, hand caressing your waist soothingly.
A sigh leaves you, hands smoothing over his shoulders to pull him closer. He stares down at you, panting softly, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.
“You’re right,” he murmurs.
Neither of you make any moves to detach from each other however, Leon’s hand stroking over your hair as he grunts and rocks his hips against your cunt again.
“Just- shit- just the tip,” Leon offers, groaning when he feels your hands on his chest, “just the tip, baby.”
You whimper into his mouth when he kisses you again, fingers creeping down to pull at his shorts impatiently.
“D- doesn’t count if it’s just the tip,” you agree breathlessly, hand wrapping around his fat cock.
“Yeah,” Leon says, his voice shaky, “yeah, doesn’t hah- doesn’t count if it's just the tip.”
Leon mutters out a curse when your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, kissing you roughly as he grasps his cock, pumping it a few times. You watch, flushed and eager as he presses his cock against your folds, rubbing it against you.
“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he snarls, moving his cock and slapping it the tip of it against your swollen clit, smearing pre-cum across your folds. “‘m gonna make you forget about him,” Leon slurs, “gonna make you mine, sweetheart.”
He presses the tip of his cock into you and you whine, clawing at his biceps, feeling the initial stretch of his cock. Leon grunts, his face pressing back into the crook of you neck, fucking you shallowly.
“Bet my entire cock would feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your neck, “wouldn’t that be nice, baby? My fat cock filling you up?”
“But- but we can’t,” you babble, gasping when he pushes his cock in a little more, “Leon- oh fuck-”
Your words die on your tongue when Leon drives his hips into you, cock filling you up completely. A strangled moan leaves you, head tipping back as you cry out, Leon groaning as he pounds his hips into you.
“Take it, sweetheart,” he grunts, hand smoothing over your hair as he kisses your cheek messily, “doing so good, made to take my cock, my sweet girl.”
The praise is making your eyes roll to the back of your head, legs tightening around his hips as your nails claw down his back.
“Kiss,” you whine, lips parting for Leon, “kiss me.”
Leon lets out a low growl, his lips crashing onto yours, cock dragging in and out of your clenching walls rapidly. The sounds of your skin clapping together fills his apartment, but you’re too cockdrunk, too utterly gone to have any care in the world. All you can think about is his weight on top of your body, his lips dragging across your skin, his cock pounding into you.
“Squeezing me so tight,” Leon moans, “gonna make me cum, baby.”
You nod rapidly, cunt clenching around him as the coil of pleasure in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.
“Leon!” you wail, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, body twitching.
“Cum,” he grunts, squeezing your hips tightly, “c’mon baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cream my fucking cock.”
His lips slot over yours and you whimper, kissing him back needily as you shake in his grasp, orgasm racking through you as you cum.
“Fuck-” Leon whispers, feeling the clench of your cunt around his cock, “baby, baby, baby.”
His hips stutter, his head falling between your breasts, soft pants filling the air as he cums. Leon’s hot cum floods your pussy, another whimper escaping you as you feel his cock twitch.
You both lay there, chests heaving.
“I hate you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” Leon rasps, “I know.”
He kisses you anyways.
-
Your boyfriend’s been promoted.
It’s how you find yourself here, latched onto his arm as he talks with his colleagues with a tight smile on your face. Unfortunately for you, Leon happens to work at the same place which is why you spend most of your time trying to avoid him.
You’d tried to get out of attending the anniversary dinner, too ashamed and sick to your stomach, but your boyfriend had pleaded with you, which had only made you feel guiltier.
You can’t escape Leon’s gaze either. His eyes bore into you no matter where you go in the spacious venue and it gets to the point where you’re telling your boyfriend that you need to get some fresh air. There’s a fire escape and you take your chance, pushing past the heavy door to suck in a deep breath of the cool night air. The expanse of the city lies out before you, buildings lit up and roads bustling with traffic. You rub your aching temples, eyes squeezing shut.
Unfortunately, you don’t get to cool down for long, not when Leon’s joining you. He looks as handsome as ever, especially in a suit, his hair combed back neatly.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Go fuck yourself, Leon,” you hiss out, pointing your finger at him accusingly.
A lazy grins spreads across his face, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. Your hands land against his chest, breath hitching when he lowers his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours.
“Fuck me yourself, hm?”
You end up bent over the railing with Leon’s fat cock stuffed inside of you. He grips your hips roughly, groans as you cry out into the night, peppers kisses over your shoulder and shoves his fingers into your mouth while he whispers sweet nothings to you.
“You’re my girl.”
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil smut#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#leon kennedy
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do you believe me now? | 7
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader sleep together for the first time
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: loss of virginity, oral f/m receiving, so much praise, pain during sex, unprotected sex, cr**mp**, bit of overstim, soft dom spence, if u don't like that freak shit (love and intimacy) this is not for u, spencer is a nerd, they're both nerds actually and that factors in heavily, you may get more from this part by FIRST reading how they met in this bonus chapter a/n: thank you all for being patient, ilysm, this was the most laborious thing i've ever done for no reason and also this part changed so many times and is not what i expected it to be so pls go in with tempered expectations and keep in mind that this story is more about the characters and their specific relationship dynamic than just being porn. i truly have no idea how you guys will react to this but i sincerely hope you love it and them like i do<3 also it's twice as long as the other parts so feedback would be very very appreciated! again i love u all and enjoy the penultimate part!
Spencer’s lips are on yours, and you weren’t expecting it—hell, you weren’t expecting him to be in your apartment. After all, he’d wished you goodnight and walked out only a moment ago.
“Spencer—wh—”
But he’s insistent with his lips, kissing you bruisingly over and over like there’s nectar on your tongue and he’s parched for you. Still, he has enough decency to not completely ignore you, exhaling a quick excuse over your flushed lips.
“I missed you.”
This time, though, you dodge his hungry kiss. Part of you thinks, as he watches you, eyes alight and breathing heavily, that he sort of likes your playing hard to get. It’s not something you do very often, admittedly.
“We’ve been apart for like, maybe a minute.”
“I didn’t even make it to the parking lot.”
Your face heats.
“Well you can’t just—you can’t just walk in like that! And I thought you said we weren’t supposed to mix fighting with pleasure.”
“Then start locking your door. And I thought you said we weren’t fighting.”
You roll your eyes in response, though your heart is still pittering in your chest.
At least his hands move to your arms, stroking up and down relatively chastely—although he has this way of making everything seem intimate. Especially when paired with those amber eyes of his—glowing like a candlelight beacon in the window guiding you home. He speaks in low, appeasing tones and darts his tongue over his lips.
“I originally said it’s a bad idea for couples to sleep together after an argument. But you know—makeup sex is ubiquitous across culture and time because it works. Anger and arousal trigger a lot of the same hormones, specifically norepinephrine which is involved in feelings of longing and—”
“Spencer.”
“You know what else?” He mutters in a way that feels dangerous. “It tends to feel better than regular sex.”
That earns a shaky exhale from you. Whether from irritation or arousal is anyone’s guess—probably a combination of both.
“So you came back to fuck me?”
It’s probably evident to Spencer from your choice of language that this already isn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He doesn’t answer right away—just regards you, gaze bouncing between your two eyes like he’s trying to calculate your level of anger.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
You push him away and move to walk down the hall.
“Maybe your window of opportunity has passed.”
A warm hand wraps around your wrist in the dark of the hallway and he pulls you back until you’re falling against something tall and warm and lean. The smell of polished amber and sandalwood overwhelms your senses.
“What’s wrong, angel? What happened in the minute I was gone to change your mind?” His voice is scratchy like a favorite record. It’s the voice he could hold you captive with. The one you have a very difficult time saying no to.
“I don’t know,” you mutter, unintentionally leaning back against him. “What happened to change yours?”
His response comes pressed against your ear, half-lost in your hair.
“You’re upset that I changed my mind. I thought you wanted this, honey.”
“I do,” you admit, letting your head fall back against his shoulder and bringing his arm to wrap around you. “And if you hadn’t walked out earlier I would’ve done it. But… I’m tired of us doing everything on your timeline. You just… you expect me to be amenable to what you want, constantly.” His nose and lips press into your shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“Like… I’ve been begging you to sleep with me for I don’t even know how long. And you keep changing your mind, and I feel like you’re being really confusing about it. Obviously you don’t have to sleep with me, you never did, but I just feel kind of… jerked around. And you did it again tonight.”
A beat of silence.
“I understand your frustration,” he appeases, securing both his arms around you. You cling weakly to his wrist, to his warmth, like he’s a tether in a storm. “Would you prefer to wait until you initiate it?”
“No. Yes! I don’t know,” you huff, disentangling yourself from his arms and continuing toward your bedroom. “Now I’m annoyed at you again.”
He follows you right through the door.
“Just tell me what to do! I don’t want to be annoying.”
“I can’t. I’m being unreasonable.” You flick on your adjoining bathroom light and examine yourself in the mirror. Yeesh. The eye makeup situation is abysmal after all the crying that has taken place over the course of the evening.
“So choose to be reasonable and tell me what you want from me. I’ll give it to you.”
You frown at your reflection, pushing your hair back and rubbing at some excess mascara.
“No, you’re not understanding me. I’m not choosing to be unreasonable. My thought process regarding the situation is inherently unreasonable and there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s just the way I feel.”
“The feeling being that I’ve been too domineering over how our sexual relationship has unfolded?”
Spencer watches you in the bathroom mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as you tip some makeup remover onto a reusable cotton pad. You try not to check him out as you nod, but it’s impossible—with his sleeves rolled up to show defined forearms cradled in capable hands, and his hair all messy.
When he pushes off the wall you freeze, unsure of his next move—until he’s gently spinning you around and taking the bottle and cloth from your hands.
“Maybe it would help,” he begins, soft as he focuses on the new task, carefully bringing the round to your right eye so he can remove the bleeding mascara. You allow your eyes to flutter shut. “If I remind you why I’ve been so hesitant.”
“Because you hate giving me joy.”
He laughs, nothing more than one huff from his nose.
“You’re spoiled and we both know it.”
Point taken, as he gently wipes your makeup away for you. Your silence is his cue to continue.
“Everything I said about worrying that you would regret choosing me is true. It was especially true when I thought you felt lukewarm toward me. And all of that confusing stuff I said in the phone is true too—having sex for the first time is incredibly intimate and weird and sometimes scary. If you’re not 100% sure about your partner, or if you think your feelings are unrequited, it’s hard to be completely comfortable in such a vulnerable situation and your likelihood of getting hurt or having regrets skyrockets. I know that from experience. I wanted better for you than what I got. Still, I know it was wrong to project my feelings about the significance of sex onto you. In that regard, you’re right. I was being domineering, and I guess… I guess to an extent I’m still deflecting. I shouldn’t be trying to pretend like it’s about you when in reality I mostly just didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to go through that again, and that’s okay, but I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was something you could have changed.”
You try to process that.
“Go through what?” You whisper hoarsely. Something about having him at such close range while he takes such care with you feels whisper-y.
“Sleeping with someone who didn’t love me back.”
Your reply is small.
“Oh. Right.”
How could anyone not love him back?
Spencer’s reply is simple and kind, without a hint of, obviously you dumb bitch—which is pretty much what you’re thinking to yourself.
“Does that make sense, lovely? Do you understand why I wanted to wait?”
He lets you ponder for a while in comfortable-enough silence as he finishes removing your eye makeup with a characteristically gentle hand. When you open your eyes, he looks genuinely content, screwing the lid back on the bottle as if he’s got an eternity to wait for your answer.
“Yeah. That part makes sense. But why did you seem so… I don’t know, like, wishy-washy about it?”
Spencer’s eyes dart up to meet yours, brows slightly raised. Then a small laugh bubbles up from somewhere inside him.
“Because I’m obsessed with you. I thought about you like that constantly. I still do.”
Your breath catches at the casual admission.
“Oh.”
Spencer hums, setting the bottle down before tenderly thumbing away some excess mascara that he must have missed from under your eye.
“You didn’t think it was easy for me, did you?”
“Well… kind of,” you admit, tracking his eyes until they meet yours.
“Not sleeping with you has been among the hardest things I’ve ever done. Especially when you started begging me. That first time, when I picked you up from Penelope’s and you asked me why we hadn’t had sex yet…”
He trails off, still rubbing at your cheek as he loses himself in thought.
Eventually, you grow impatient, prompting, “what?”
“It’s not a nice thought.”
“Well, you have to tell me now,” you insist.
He half smiles, thumb straying to your lips.
“It was just… you had no idea what you were talking about, and you were ready to throw a tantrum in my living room until I gave you what you thought you wanted. Part of me was imagining bending you over the couch right then, since you thought you were so ready.”
It feels like someone has snipped the pulley that keeps your stomach in place.
“Spencer,” you splutter, convinced your cheek is tangibly heating under his touch as your head reels at the revelation that he could have such a deeply dirty and mildly sinister mind.
“I told you it wasn’t nice.”
You swallow.
“Is that… is that still what you want?”
His brows flicker again and he tucks hair behind your ear.
“To bend you over my couch? No.”
Your face warms even more and you turn to leave the bathroom, sick of his teasing.
“Okay, goodni—”
“Hold on.” Spencer catches you by your waist and pulls you back into him for the second time tonight. A dangerous smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I know what you meant. And no, I don’t want to bend you over my couch.” He laughs, slipping a hand under your shirt to rub your back. “You know what I want. I’m more interested in learning what you want.”
“I want…” Your eyes dance between his, and your heart flutters against the confines of your chest as you realize what you’ve wanted for so long is finally yours for the taking. “I want to stop talking about it.”
His expression neutralizes and you know it’s probably intentional to stop whatever feelings you assume him to be having color your decision.
“Oh?”
“I just think we’ve talked about it enough.”
Before he can say another word, or ask you another question, you kiss him with such passion there’s no way he can doubt how much you want this.
Only a moment passes before he allows himself to lean into it, cupping your face between reverent hands and taking control of the pace of the kiss, slowing it down until you can hardly breathe. Your little noise of want has him quickening the process, pressing against you until you’re walking backward out of the bathroom. It’s like the first crack in a dam. After that, everything becomes inevitable.
Your knees hit the back of the bed and you sit down hard on the mattress, smiling up at him. You skim the front of his thighs with your palms as he smooths your hair.
Spencer groans, leaning down and kissing you til you’re on your back.
“Don’t make that face.”
An affronted huff from you breaks the kiss up and he pulls back to study your expression.
“What do you mean don’t make that face? I was just smiling at you.”
“I know you were. And you have such a pretty smile it makes me feel guilty about… defiling you.”
Your brows flicker up and your mouth drops open with an affronted scoff.
“Watch yourself. I’ll defile you.”
“You already have,” he admits with a half-laugh as he kisses you again. “My mind was never this dirty before we met.”
“Hm. Tell me you like my smile.”
He pauses and then chuckles dryly against your mouth.
“I love your smile. You’re gorgeous. Any more demands?”
Pleased, you shake your head and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Not currently.”
“Really?” he murmurs, trailing kisses over your cheek and down your jaw, “I’d do just about anything you asked me right now. You don’t want to take advantage of that?”
The sensation of his lips just below your ear threatens all rational thought in your brain, but you manage a reply with only a slight delay and a hint of a waver coloring your tone.
“I shouldn’t have to demand things. You should just know to do them.”
His kisses drag lower, warm and unhurried and you’re trying not to let your hyper-sensitivity from going a week completely untouched show—but you doubt he misses the way your breath catches, or the barely audible squeaks, or the arch of your back or the tightening grip on his shirt.
“Well, for future reference—” he nips at a sensitive spot and you gasp quietly, even as you tilt your head to offer him more access. More room to bite, if he so chooses. “—I happen to enjoy it when you make demands of me. Especially when those demands entail letting me call you pretty.”
“I’ve never not let you call me pretty before,” you huff. It’s a touchy subject, and Spencer can probably sense your hackles rising, but he has you right where he wants you and so he pushes anyway.
“No. But you never believe me. We’ve had this conversation. You always act like I’m walking you to the gallows when I compliment you.”
It’s hard to make a defense when he’s leaning his weight onto one arm so he can unbutton your jeans, when he’s looking down at you with sparkling onyx and scorched-earth eyes like you’re something to be consumed. But not violently, no—ardently. Like fruit heavy on the vine. Like you’re a religious rite to the devout and deluded. A sacrament.
But it’s not a blind passion. Spencer knows you; every inch of you and every loose thread on your soul begging to be pulled. He knows you and he still wants you like this. To be perfectly honest, you’d never thought you’d feel comfortable handing yourself over to someone like this—vulnerable and all your layers of armor shed. Never in your life would you have thought you could trust a person so implicitly that you’d hand them a knife and show them exactly where to press, that you’d say, I know once you open me and you see me you’ll not want to change a thing.
You adore him. Cosmically. Enormously. In every dimension. He’s lodged so deep in your heart you have no choice but to love him eternally.
It’s deep in the midst of all these very profound revelations that you realize Spencer has stalled with your zipper undone. His hand has strayed to your hip, to sweetly push your shirt up and trace love letters into warmed and downy skin with his thumb.
“I just wish you could see yourself how I see you,” he says softly, the weight of the truth a strain on his vocal cords.
Sometimes, he is so kind it’s like a punch to your stomach. You’ve never been quite as kind as him. And nobody’s ever been as kind to you as he is. You’ve done nothing to deserve his kindness, but you know he needs a place for it, and you’re here with open arms.
He studies you a moment longer, swallowing as his eyes trail over your face and lower. You want to reach out and brush strands of caramel hair out of his face, but he seems to be thinking so hard you’re hesitant to distract him.
“I’ve never told you this, because I know you’d just shoot it down, but… you are genuinely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life.”
Something twinges in the depths of your stomach—the darker shades who live there and exist solely to whisper not enough not enough not enough to you every minute of every day.
But they’re simply not a match for the softness you find when you do reach out for his hair, or the way he looks at you. Spencer loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist—not a cuff, but an affectionate hold.
“Do you believe me?”
There’s so much earnest hope in his voice it almost jars you. He so badly wants you to understand how feels about you—he’s been trying to tell you for months and all you know how to do is refute his praise and insist on your worthlessness.
Ever since Spencer, you don’t see the faces on magazine covers or in superhero movies, no matter how mathematically flawless they are. Nobody gets close to being as beautiful as he is in your eyes. He’s in an entirely different echelon, and despite how you feel about yourself, you have to accept that he might feel the same about you.
“I do,” you say, equally soft, and 100% honest. You believe that he believes it, and that’s enough. It’s all that matters.
The shallow knit of his brow loosens. His lips ease into a suggestion of a smile. But it’s most visible in his eyes—the way smoldering coals reignite, melting the amber glass of his irises until they’re molten.
The way he kisses you then, you’d think you’d lassoed the moon and pulled it down from the sky for him. But apparently all it takes to make him incandescently, contagiously happy, is to accept a compliment.
There’s a renewed sense of urgency on his breath as he kisses you deeply and quick enough your heart is racing. It only goes faster when he remembers his previous task and begins tugging your jeans down, but he doesn’t even bother to pull them past your knees before his hand is creeping up your thigh. Goosebumps race each other across your body as you try to remember what it feels like—what he feels like. But you can’t, even as his thumb fans over your inner thigh and pushes it open, gently encouraging you to give him more access to you.
“You’re not wasting any time,” you breathe against him while he traces the edge of your underwear.
“Do you want me to slow down?”
Judging by the way the tips of his fingers only barely shy away from the fabric, he really wants the answer to be no. But you know in his searching gaze that he’d never push you.
“No, it’s fine. As long as we… don’t go this fast the whole time.”
“We won’t.” The hasty words are of lower priority than the next kiss he plants to your swollen lips. “We won’t. I just missed you so much.”
“Yeah?” You giggle airily as he drags his fingers over your clit through the material, trying to ignore the way it makes your head spin.
“Yes. Yeah.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, so… desperate for you, as he drops his lips to your neck and presses barely-there kisses everywhere he knows you’re sensitive. Just the feeling of his breath against your skin has you shivering. His hand between your legs only brushes your most nerve-dense spot, but a few touches in and you’re already wound up, like if Spencer doesn’t give you more soon you’ll burst. And not in the good way.
When he finally commits to actually kissing your neck, you squeak, warmth emanating from that spot just below your jaw all the way to your toes. The frantic energy of earlier is slowly melting away, and he loses focus with his hand, as it begins straying wider, stroking your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach. It’s like your nerve endings are on overdrive, delivering twice as much feedback to your brain as they normally would. Each touch feels like he’s conducting electricity over your body, like you’re a plasma ball. He’d probably like that analogy—you, a core of alternating voltage, and him, the conductor, tracing a path and giving all those electrons an easy release. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d tell Spencer you found a way to work Nikola Tesla into your mutual sex life, and he’d probably propose on the spot.
But that electricity is building fast—even more so when he drags his lips down just above your collarbone. Your breath hitches, simultaneously trying to crane your neck to give him more room, and curl into him so as to escape the stimulation. Finally he pulls away, and losing the softness of his mouth while the air feels so cold against the places he’d kissed almost hurts.
“You’re a mess,” he chuckles affectionately, raising his hand to brush hair away from your face before stroking the heated high point of your cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
It’s teasing, but so low and gentle and honeyed it swirls your stomach.
“Whatever you want,” you admit quietly. It’s a shy confession more than it is a salacious flirtation because he already has you. And you want nothing more than for him to act on that in any way he so pleases. Whatever he does, it will be careful, and kind, and because he loves you. You know that no matter how he takes you apart—he’ll put you back together again.
“I don’t know if I can. You’re all jumpy.”
God, he has the prettiest smile—even when it’s twisted with sarcasm and a thin veneer of guilt, like he knows he shouldn’t be teasing and just can’t help himself.
“I’m not,” you defend, face heating further. “I’m not nervous. I don’t know what it is.”
That sticky sweet tone is back, pooling in his eyes and dripping all over you like nectar as he languidly looks you over.
“I didn’t say you were nervous. Just a little bit jumpy.”
It’s not accusatory—he’s simply stating a fact. Easy, gentle, designed to soothe.
You shrug helplessly and chew on your lip, unsure of how he wants you to respond. It’s definitely true that excited as you are, you’re slightly on edge. You feel taut as a string on a guitar, tense and waiting to be yanked at any second.
His expression is serene, and his thoughts inscrutable as he continues lavishing you with his eyes, down to where he’s lying over you and back up. His lips part, but he doesn’t speak for a moment as he formulates his words.
“Can we try something? There’s this tantric exercise that might help you relax.”
Your brows draw earnestly and you nod up at him, not requiring any convincing even though you have no idea what he’s talking about.
Spencer directs you to sit up, and you do—kicking your jeans all the way off so you can sit criss-cross with your hands braced on your ankles.
He’s next to you on the bed, at a slight angle, one of your knees in his lap. You blink at him.
“Now what?”
“Now you give me one of your hands,” he says, tone tinted with a hint of an amused smile, as if your impatience is funny to him. Of course it probably is.
Frowning only a little, you unlock your left arm and hold it out for him, watching curiously as he takes your one hand between his and flips it palm-up.
“Did you know,” Spencer begins, voice low and confidential, “that the fingertips are the second most sensitive part of the human body?”
“What’s the first?”
“Lips,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hand where he’s brushing the tips of your fingers light enough it almost tickles. “They’re both incredibly important for keeping you alive, which is why they’re one and two. But you’ll be particularly sensitive anywhere you’re vulnerable.” His words are trailing off as he brushes his thumb over your palm and to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Like here.”
His knuckles skim up your forearm, to the crook of your elbow.
“And especially here.”
You’re fascinated as he traces back down the length of your arm and over your inner-wrist, feather light. Then up once more, with the blunted edges of his nails, and your breath catches. You’ve never noticed how sensitive such an innocuous part of your body could be, but it has your stomach flipping—more so when he looses a breathy laugh. “You know, some people are actually able to reach orgasm just by light stimulation to this area.”
Your response is just as airy—you don’t recognize your voice when it comes out like that, hanging in the pitch black between you.
“Really?”
An affirmative hum from him, as he lifts your hand and places an intentional kiss over your pulse at the bend of your wrist. Your chest aches and heat is pooling in your stomach as his gently trails them up the delicate skin of your arm. Maybe you should be embarrassed by the reaction you’re having—after all, it’s just your arm. But he treats every part of you like it warrants love and attention and intimacy. Even the parts you typically ignore. Certainly parts you never considered to be sexually or romantically relevant. It’s dizzying. It’s like magic.
“Arms up,” Spencer finally directs, just as sweetly as he’s doing everything else, and helps you tug your shirt over your head. Every brush of fabric, every seam against your skin registers more than it normally would. Everything is heightened, and despite your state of undress you’re still warm. “Your neck is really sensitive, too. It’s the most commonly acknowledged erogenous zone.”
Erogenous zone. Of course this all comes back to biology.
“Tilt your head for me, honey.”
Utterly entranced and useless to not abide by him, you do so. Spencer brushes your hair over your shoulder, and if the slip of it down your back weren’t enough, the graze of his fingertips against the nape of your neck has you shivering.
The warmth of him at your throat feels completely brand new, despite having already had his lips there only minutes before. But now they ghost over your skin with a kind of novelty, and your own lips part in silent pleasure, head lolling to allow him greater access.
“Lie back.”
Without hesitation (but perhaps a bit sluggishly in your stupor) you obey, sliding down until you’re propped up only by pillows once more. Spencer takes his place propped above you once more, thighs slotted with yours as he quickly picks up where he left off.
The sweet kisses are perfect and feel so much better than you’d ever thought to notice before—but at the same time your core aches and there’s that pressure building again that’s starting to get to you.
“Spencer,” you try, and it comes out hoarse but you don’t care at all. “More.”
“You want me to leave marks?”
And the offer is so tempting you’ll wait a few more minutes to ask for what you really need, nodding semi-frantically and ‘mhm’-ing desperately.
As he gently latches onto a spot that will require concealer later but feels fantastic for now, one of his hands slips down your side, just barely letting his nails skim, and your back actually arches. It’s a shocking amount of stimulation for being nowhere near any sexual hotspots. That tiny caught breath dissolves as his fingers continue down just as lightly over your hip and thigh. Your muscles tense as you chase and run away from the feeling. It’s ridiculous.
There’s no point in trying to keep your eyes open now—they grow heavy and you let them fall shut as he sucks another love bite to your throat.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s kind of weird.” He says, voicing your thoughts as he eventually decides the mark will be sufficiently dark.
“Yeah,” you agree, lacking all eloquence as he caresses every sensitive place you didn’t know you had and your hips writhe minutely in a little desperate dance of your own creation.
“Most people aren’t aware of the potential of the erogenous zones that aren’t actual sex organs. They don’t pay attention to them. You know what else is an interesting function of erotic stimulation to areas that aren’t directly involved in reproduction?”
“Hm,” you hum as his hand skims to your back. You lean into it and he promptly undoes your bra with a single hand—a skill you’re not even sure you have.
“It releases not quite as much oxytocin as an orgasm but more than sexual pleasure alone. So you’re less tense before sex than you usually would be, and you’re primed to build more trust and feel more connected with your partner during.”
God, he’s a nerd. And it’s so, so hot.
You roll over on your back again and look up at him through half-lidded eyes. The corner of his mouth flickers as he takes in your expression, before trailing downward, following the path his fingertips make over your skin as they tug the straps over your shoulders. Trying to stop him, to be shy, would be a pointless venture. He’s seen you like this and you want him to see you again.
A shaky exhale of his own brings a little smile to your face as he pulls your bra away and observes the newly bared skin with a hunger that you can feel.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, eyes cast pointedly down and thumb brushing over the side of your right breast.
“You mentioned.”
“I’m not allowed to say it again?” He teases, leaning down to kiss you soft. Your lips curve against his.
“You can say it as many times as you want.”
Spencer hums, finally thumbing over your breast’s sensitive peak. It sends a chill down your back and seeing as you’re already worked up to the point of near insanity, the pleasure from such a simple touch is much stronger than it would be otherwise.
“Good. Because I missed you a lot.”
After that, he doesn’t waste much time—only toying with your flesh for another minute as he kisses you before his hand is skimming down your abdomen and dipping below the waistband of your underwear.
“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips toward him when he doesn’t move to touch you anymore.
“Please what?”
“Spencer, don’t.”
He smiles at this, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as his hand travels lower. Fingers slip between wet folds and he begins making the lightest of circles over your clit.
“You’ve probably been waiting long enough, huh? I should be nicer.”
Your answer is a breathy almost-whine as you seek more friction against his hand.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing down harder. The sensation sends sparks down to your toes and you attempt to clamp your legs shut around his wrist. “These need to stay open,” Spencer chuckles, “or else I can’t help you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” The words are a sweet sing-song against your cheek as he kisses you there, before hooking his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and pulling down. You try to help wiggle out of them as best you can, gasping when he tosses them away and immediately returns his hand between your legs. He dips his head down, tongue lathing over your breast, and teases you with the tip of one finger circling around your entrance.
“I need—”
“Shh. Let me worry about it.”
With that, he’s dipping his ring and middle fingers just barely inside of you to the first knuckle, then back out, before pushing a bit deeper, and repeating the cycle until they’re as far as they’ll go. When he slowly starts fucking you with them, still mouthing sweetly at your breast, you’re ready to melt.
The room is quiet except for your breathy mewls, the lewd, wet sound of his fingers inside of you, and the blood rushing in your ears. Soon your breast pops from between his lips and he finds somewhere else to leave his mark. Spencer is turning you into a work of art, with his fingers, with his mouth. You don’t mind at all. You’d let him sign his name, if he could—but you doubt he’d let you get his name tattooed.
Soon you stop fighting the perpetual tug of your lids down and let them flutter shut, loosing a freer moan as he brushes over that sweet spot inside you. Even when he’d told you how to find it over the phone, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like this—maddening enough to have your hips twisting again and that hot bed of coals in your tummy sparking.
“Spencer,” you warn, leg twitching as he stokes the fire beyond the point where you can passively enjoy it. Either he’s got to slow down or he’s got to let you burn all the way up. You practically jump when you feel his tongue flick over your clit—you hadn’t even been aware of his shifting positions. Maybe you’re more out of it than you’d previously thought. Your eyes shoot open and he does it again. “Oh, fuck.”
The words are simple, quiet, and apparently that’s not enough. Before you can even process the sensation of the tip of his tongue on you he’s latching onto your clit, suckling in a way that has your vision momentarily going out. You cry out and kick involuntarily, hips jumping up, but he captures your leg and presses you down into the mattress so no matter how much you squirm and squeak you can’t get away.
“Fuckfuckfuck, Spencer I wa—ah—sn’t ready—oh my god.”
He remembers his fingers deep inside you and begins rutting them and you hiss, inhaling sharply through your teeth before letting it all out in a tremulous moan. The orgasm is building up so quickly it almost feels like an attack on your poor body as you try to process it all to no avail. Every sound you make is a vulnerable mess of pleasure and pain, a clear fear of surrendering to something inevitable. Of course, it doesn’t really hurt at all. As usual, he’s blindsided you. Found you unprepared. You rake your fingers through Spencer’s hair, continuing on with your shaky moans that sound half-worried.
“Oh, please.” Really, you’re just pleading to be put out of your misery. It’s in moments like this, as the black is creeping in around the edges of your vision and your thoughts become threads in the tangle of an existence knotting in on itself with no discernible end or beginning in your mind until everything is completely abstract, that you’re reminded why the French refer to orgasm as the little death.
Your fingers lace tight enough in the wilds of his hair to pull, and he groans against you, and those vibrations are your undoing. You succumb to the dark momentarily but he continues a loving assault of gentle kisses to your clit—careful enough so as to be inoffensive even after the euphoria abates and you’re hypersensitive, still relishing soft strands of hair between your knuckles.
You’re breathing hard as you blink your vision back, looking down at him as he looks up at you from his place between your legs and rubs the top of your thigh.
“I wasn’t ready,” you pant, lips flashing into a tired smile that doesn’t hold a candle to his own livelier one.
“Took it like a champ.”
If you weren’t already so warm his sarcastic comment would inspire more heat in the apples of your cheeks.
“Dr. Spencer Reid using sports idioms?” You smile as he climbs back up your body.
“It’s unreasonably sexy that you said idiom and not simile.” He kisses you, grin mirroring yours, and you don’t complain about the slick still on his lips. “And look at that. Not afraid to kiss me when I taste like you anymore.”
“I remember what you said,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, glowing amber pools in the low light. The words echo in your head from the first time he’d gone down on you and you’d been hesitant to taste yourself.
One day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.
“So do I,” he points out needlessly. “Eerily prophetic, hm?”
“I think you just like going down on me,” you laugh.
Without the light on, his smile is just as brilliant as usual.
“You might be right about that.”
Another interlude of quiet begins, but you don’t mind it. Taking this slow, as desperate as you’ve been for it, feels nice. Easy. Waves of burning need ebb and flow, but for now, it feels nice to be bathed in his candlelight gaze, know you’re loved, and nothing else.
“What next?” You whisper after a long moment, lifting your hand to trace the line of his jaw. He leans into it slightly, lips brushing your palm.
“That’s up to you, angel. What’s going to make you feel most comfortable?”
Your bottom lip rolls between your teeth as you think and he tracks the movement, corner of his mouth twitching fondly.
“It might help if you weren’t fully clothed.”
“I think we could probably do something about that.”
He pecks the tip of your nose playfully and then he’s pushing off the bed. Your brow wrinkles as you follow suit only partially, sitting up with your legs folded under you and pulling the sheets over your body to combat the chill and the vulnerability of being completely naked.
“Oh, my god. You had your shoes on that whole time?”
“I got distracted,” Spencer defends, almost tripping over himself in his hurry to slip the loafers off.
You clutch the sheet to your chest, watching the adorable way he pushes his hair out of his face as he rushes. He’s so clearly excited—it shows in the flush of his cheek and his even worse than usual coordination.
“But on my bed?”
“I’m sorry,” he says without seeming very apologetic, leaning down to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressing his lips to yours. “I’ll pay to have your comforter dry cleaned. I’ll buy you a new one. I don’t care.”
“How chivalrous.”
“I am,” he insists against your lips, shaped by what is surely a boyish smirk.
Unsurprisingly, you get lost in the kiss, dropping the sheet to hang onto his shoulders. Spencer takes advantage of the once-more revealed skin, rubbing your thigh with slow passes in a way that has you all lit up again already. It doesn’t help that his tie is skimming right over the recess between your folded thighs as he leans over your seated form, kissing you deeper as the moments pass.
“You’re distracting me now,” you scold, but your voice is quiet and smiley as your noses brush.
“Do you want to help me with my clothes?”
You nod, heart hatching like a cocoon and already slipping a finger into the knot of his tie so you can tug perhaps not gently enough. He chuckles, bracing himself with his fists on either side of your lap as you pull and yank until the fabric comes loose and you slip it from around his neck, flinging it blindly for dramatic effect. Then he slowly draws back to his full height, until you’re about eye-level with his chest. His gaze fixes on you, feverish and intent as he finds the buckle of his belt without looking. The slide of leather on leather, the jingle of the metal has the hairs on the back of your neck rising and you fight a chill as he pins you with his stare—feeling rather powerless as he towers over you, still essentially fully clothed while you’re completely naked.
You probably shouldn’t be as thrilled by it as you are.
Spencer tosses the belt on the floor and watches on, utterly charmed as you rise to your knees. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you begin unbuttoning his shirt with slow, careful fingers.
“See?” You murmur bashfully. “Helping.”
His voice is equally as soft.
“Very helpful. Thank you.”
The tension in the quiet room gets to be too much and you have to focus hard on the task at hand, failing to bite back a twisty smile. For once, he keeps his stupid perfect mouth shut and lets you push the fabric of his open shirt from his shoulders in humid silence.
Your fingers skate down his torso and you watch the muscles tense. You wonder if he notices the way he pulls you slightly closer or if it’s subconscious as you both track the path of your hands.
“Your button is on the wrong side,” you note, voice wavering slightly, once your fingers stall at the waistband of his pants.
Spencer chuckles. You feel silly.
“Men and women’s clothing tend to have the buttons on different sides, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence, before the words come pouring out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m still a little bit nervous, I think.”
“That’s okay,” Spencer assures you, hands gliding up and down the soft lines of your waist. “It’s okay that you’re nervous. But I’m going to take really good care of you, okay?”
You nod, not looking away from the exposed skin of his torso.
“And if at any point you need to take a break or stop, you’ll tell me.”
“I will, but… I don’t need to stop right now.”
“Then you can go as slow as you want.”
You swallow and take a moment to gather yourself before continuing on undoing his pants. With his assistance, you pull them down, and with them his boxers tug an inch or two lower, exposing a subtle v-shape before it disappears beneath the waistband. The fabric is obviously tented. A ball of nervous anticipation spins faster in your stomach, drawing all the heat in your body down between your legs. He’s pretty everywhere. You’d nearly forgotten.
Spencer’s stomach tenses under your light touch as you drag your fingers down, down, just to the waistband. It’s then that you look up at him for permission to continue, and find his eyes already on you, heated and intense.
“Go ahead, honey.”
Again you find yourself quite excited to touch him, but you start cautiously, simply letting your hand fall over the shape of him through the fabric. Even that has his chest rising and falling at a slightly quickened rate, and one of his hands finds your unoccupied one, twining them together. That small gesture inspires you to bolden your explorations, becoming more insistent in the way you palm at him. He feels big, which is a concern of yours. But you try not to let that intimidate you.
Already he’s quite hard, you suspect from going down on you earlier (which is flattering as much as it embarrasses you) and your fingers graze a small wet patch of fabric. You fixate on the shaky little breath he releases as you push down his boxers with new fervor, and his cock springs up.
He’s still perfect.
You smear beads of precum down his tip, and he sighs, letting his head fall against yours as you both watch. A few coquettish pumps and he’s humming, kissing your face and dragging his lips down your neck where he makes a home for himself. Apparently the sight of your hand wrapped around him had been too much to bear.
“So good. Missed this.”
“It’s just my hand,” you whisper, a little insecure that he’s maybe playing it up for your benefit.
“It’s you.”
His voice is so breathy, you sort of have to believe him.
“Can I…?”
Too nervous to voice what you really mean, you trail off, but it apparently doesn’t matter to Spencer. He lifts his head like he’s in a stupor but you’ve said something urgent.
“Anything you want. You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay. Um…”
You let go of his hand (and his dick). Spencer automatically rotates to accommodate you as you end up on your knees on the wooden floor in front of him.
“This is what you want?” He breathes, already pushing his fingers through your hair and gathering it back as you look up at him and nod.
Very quickly you have him back in your hand, trying to remember what you learned from the few times you’ve done this. You start perhaps a bit softer, less eager to prove yourself than you have in the past—simply dragging him over your tongue before enveloping his tip in your mouth, and releasing with a pop. Despite being overtly, explicitly, and undeniably sexual, there’s something almost chaste about the way you handle him. It’s a (dirty) expression of love, and you think he understands that as he rubs at your cheek affectionately.
Eventually, however, you get too excited, and you take him into your mouth in earnest, bobbing your head slowly and seeing how much of him you can take without gagging.
Spencer makes the prettiest noises—they’re breathy, and not ostentatious, but he’s got such a nice speaking voice it’s like his gasps are bars in a song. You whine around him, wriggling your hips in a rather pathetic display, and then all too quickly he’s tugging your hair so you can’t keep him in your mouth.
“What?” You ask, closer to pouting than you’d care to admit and voice slightly hoarse. “You said I could do anything I want.”
“Not if you’re that good at it. Come here.”
He helps you up and catches you in a deep, messy kiss before you’ve fully regained your footing, swaying against him, but he holds you fast, pulling away slow like strings of honey trail between your mouths.
Spencer’s eyes are fixed on yours, lips parted in a sort of wonder before he glances down to your own mouth, wiping the shine from your bottom lip. Any moment you’re expecting him to say something, to tell you you’re beautiful or perfect or that he’s in love with you—but instead he just meets your eyes again, that same wonder-struck look on his pretty face. A tiny, breathy laugh forces itself from his chest like you’re a genuine miracle.
You feel so observed—seen in a way you’ve never been seen, looked at closer than anyone has ever looked at you before. And he still looks at you like you’re the human embodiment of love, the closest mortal manifestation of the divine, Galatea come down from her marble pedestal. The way he looks at you has your heart pounding and your breathing hastened. Adoration has never been something so physical, so tangible, ever before in your life. Your blood hums at the frequency of his electromagnetic field—an energetic aura that surrounds each person and can be detected from several feet away, as he’d explained it to you. It originates from the heart and if you spend enough time close to someone, syncs up the beating of your most vital organ with theirs until it’s a perfect match. Maybe that’s why, almost as quickly as your heart had begun to pound, it slows again, and you feel any reservation flush from your body like a fever.
“Okay,” you breathe, cataloguing every angle and curve of his face to store with all the rest, all the moments that feel important. Of course, you’ll never remember them like he does yours. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try your hardest.
“Okay?” Spencer asks. He understands the confirmation for what it is, and searches for signs of hesitation on your face while rubbing reassuring circles into your hip. You nod resolutely.
As he lays you down on your bed, it feels like you’re entering some kind of altered state. Everything is muted and glowing with a watercolor aura in the dark and you really only care about the man on top of you and the way moonlight dances on his skin and the way he smells like smoky amber and rain. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed under you, before sweeping your hair from beneath your shoulders into a corona around your head. All the while his eyes are so soft on you, just like his hands, and his lips when he leans down to touch them to yours.
One of said hands finds its way to your jaw, trailing down over your neck and collarbone, before settling over your breast where he swipes a thumb over your nipple, lightly, slowly, several times.
Once again you’re struck with the odd feeling, even with his hand on you like this, that the situation isn’t sexual in the way you’d anticipated. It’s not pornographic, or even very dirty. Everything Spencer does, even as his hand sneaks down between your legs, he does because he loves you.
“One more like this,” he mutters against your jaw after a moment.
“Why?”
Your impatience yields a smile you can only feel against your skin.
“Just want you relaxed and feeling good. That’s all.”
When you assent, his fingers are already slowly pushing inside you.
It seems you’ve entered some sort of time warp as well, because you reach a gentle peak in what feels like record time, aided by his easy murmurings and saccharine praise.
“Perfect. That was perfect,” Spencer says with a kiss to your shoulder as he slides his fingers from you and you feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets. “Can I ask you something before we get carried away?”
“Mhm,” you hum, sweet and compliant as pleasure dulls your inhibitions for the second time tonight and your head lolls into the pillows.
“Baby,” he croons, voice soft as worn paper as your lids flutter and lashes brush febrile cheeks, thumbing over the heated skin. “Need you a little more alert, sweet girl.”
“’M trying,” you whine, though it’s half self-effacing laugh. Spencer chuckles too as you shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to reinvigorate yourself. “Okay. Go.”
“Well… we don’t have any protection.” Before you can groan, loudly, he hurries on. “And that’s… I’m okay with that, if it’s what you still want. I trust you. But there will come… a moment of reckoning. And I need to know where I should… reckon. So you don’t end up surprised.”
Now you’re really laughing—a giggly mess beneath him as your arms loop over his shoulders.
“Stop it,” he whines, pressing his nose to your cheek as you turn your head in an effort to not snort at your boyfriend to his face. “That was for your benefit, you know. You get squeamish.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t take you seriously when you refer to it as reckoning.”
“Fine. I’ll rephrase. When I come, you essentially have two options. Inside, or on your stomach. Tell me where you want it.”
Your breath catches and your stomach does that tripping-over-itself thing again.
“Um…”
Another fond half laugh, at your expense, is pressed against your skin. It’s enough to prompt you into answering—he doesn’t have to say anything to make his point about your being squeamish.
“Inside,” you mutter, shy as you attempt to bring him closer so he won’t be able to look at you quite so closely. You wonder if he’s remembering the conversation you’d had over the phone last week—before he’d accidentally kind of broken up with you—about this very subject. You certainly are.
“Okay. I want you to have everything that you want.” A few kisses to your neck later, between nips, he speaks again. “Just need to hear that you want this one more time.”
“I want this,” you repeat, obedient and honest, plain and simple. “Now, please.”
Spencer responds by first kissing you, firm and loving. It soothes you, and he punctuates it with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s reaching down and guiding himself between your legs. You feel surprisingly calm, more overcome with love and the light pleasure rolling down your back as he drags himself over your clit than you are by nerves. Still, you pointedly hold his gaze, not looking down in case you psych yourself out. He slots himself in place, tip resting against your entrance.
“Remember, if you need to stop at any point—”
“I remember,” you cut him off hurriedly.
Okay. So perhaps you’re still slightly nervous.
He watches you, sympathetic though you’re not sure what for.
“I need you as relaxed as possible, okay? I want this to be easy on you.”
You take a moment, scanning your whole body for tense muscles. When you feel sufficiently relaxed, you offer Spencer a small nod, and at that, he begins pushing into you ever so slightly.
At first, it just feels foreign. He’s going so slowly, so carefully, you’re not sure he’s moving at all—until he finds resistance and the odd full feeling changes to a hint of burning stretch. Your hips jump and your breath catches, and Spencer stops immediately, relieving the pressure with a tiny shift in position.
“It’s gonna hurt,” you realize, eyes darting between his like he might be able to tell you otherwise. You’d always been aware of the possibility, but you were holding out hope that you’d be one of those people who didn’t experience any pain their first time.
“Just for a minute. Then it’ll feel good, angel.”
You swallow and nod. At the end of the day, you trust him completely. You trust him enough to let him hurt you.
“Super deep breaths for me.”
He watches intently as you follow his directions, taking several deep breaths in succession, before he begins pushing into you once more. The pressure builds and builds until he pushes past that point of resistance, and it’s like he’s breaking you in two.
“Ah,” you gasp, abs twisting as your body tries to escape the sensation without any input from you.
“I know. I know, baby, that was the hardest part. Breathe.”
He drops his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles with light pressure to distract from the pain.
You nod, lips pressed together tight as the deep ache muddles your brain. It’s an insistent pressure against something does not seem to want to budge. It burns and stretches and is laced with sour, flirtatious pleasure so that you can hardly tell what it is you’re feeling. Mostly, you’re dizzy and hot.
“Relax, just like that,” he strains, looking down. “My good girl. We’re almost there, baby.”
Cries spill unbidden from your mouth and your eyes shut as he continues to open you up deeper, until finally, finally, his hips settle into the cradle of yours.
Spencer sighs a curse under his breath, so quiet you don’t think it was meant for you.
He’s inside of you. It’s bizarre.
You whimper, and he snaps out of whatever revery he’d been in.
“You okay? How does that feel?”
You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and trying to clear your head to no avail—your thoughts are like TV static.
“I’m good. I need… I need a minute.”
“You can have as much time as you need. It’s a lot, huh?”
“Yeah,” you admit, voice small and weak.
“I bet,” he agrees, peppering soft kisses all over your face. “But you’re doing so well. Proud of you, brave girl. You’re doing so well and we’re gonna make sure it feels good soon, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”
“Will you please kiss me again?” you whisper, and Spencer’s brow knits with concern.
“Of course, angel. Of course I’ll kiss you,” he says, and makes good on his promise with his lips on yours. It sweetens the ache. “I’ll do whatever you want. You can have anything. You’re so perfect.”
He kisses you again, just as lovingly, and soft, like you’re delicate. All the praise is only contributing to your lightheadedness, but you don’t mind at all. It feels good.
“You can… you can move.”
“Okay. We’ll go really slow, yeah?”
He waits for your nod before his hips are pulling back and you arch at the odd sensation. When he pushes back in, eyes carefully locked on yours the whole time, you keen slightly, frowning and brain shorting out as it tries and fails to process this new feeling.
“Uh-huh. You’re okay, I promise.”
At first it doesn’t feel good. It mostly hurts. But slowly, the pain begins to abate as you acclimate to having him inside of you, and he’s careful the whole time.
“Spence?”
“Hm?”
He sounds concentrated on the task at hand—you’re entranced by the sight of him above you, the parted lips, the unkempt hair over the brow furrowed in pleasure and focus. But he’s never too busy for you.
“Does it… um—” you pause to hold back a whine—“what does it feel like for you?”
At this, he slows even further and chuckles—it’s a strained, slightly breathy sound.
“For me?”
“Mhm.”
“You feel perfect, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
The slight fry in Spencer’s voice as he curses, which is a rare event in and of itself, flips your stomach, turns you on immensely. The idea that you’re giving him pleasure too—it’s almost overwhelming. That’s when it starts feeling good.
“Oh—” you squeak, jaw dropping and bucking your hips inadvertently as the first bolt of true pleasure shocks deep in your core. He hums.
“Yeah, is that it, sweet girl?”
But you can’t answer for a long moment. Your brain is melting as your legs lock around him.
“Mm—it’s—it feels…”
“I know it does,” Spencer murmurs.
You whine and press your face into the curve of his shoulder as each thrust gently rocks your body. As the pace picks up bit by bit, you feel yourself clenching hard around him. His hips stutter and he hisses.
“Ah. Can’t do that, lovely.”
“What? Did I hurt you?”
He laughs breathily.
“No, you didn’t hurt me. You almost pushed me out. You have to relax.”
“Sorry,” you whisper. “’M trying.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’re trying, baby, you’re being so good for me.”
Your nails skim his back—a small expression of a much larger desperation. Once he’s sure you’re relaxed around him, begins going faster.
Your gasps and soft moans come more often now as he finds a steady rhythm and it feels so different when he’s actually fucking you. It feels like he’s everywhere. Every time your hips meet you feel the sweet shock of it in your teeth, your toes, the back of your neck. In the best way, you feel consumed by him. It’s not at all like you’d imagined, and it’s perfect.
“Wait, Spencer,” you breathe, struggling to form the words. Immediately he stops again, lifting his head from your shoulder to examine your face.
“What is it?”
He sounds just as wrecked as you feel, panting and strained and it feels good to hear.
“I wanna watch.”
For a moment his eyes dart between yours like he’s trying to determine what you really mean—but you said exactly what you meant. Then he laughs, a huff of air from his nose as he presses his head to yours and gives you a quick kiss.
Your toes curl as he readjusts his position, holding himself a little higher and resting your heads together so you can both look between your bodies.
“There,” he murmurs as he slowly begins to withdraw again. “Like that?”
But you can’t answer, because you’re too busy whimpering at the sight of him pushing into you. The feeling seems to increase tenfold as you watch it happen. Distantly you wonder how the fuck it fits.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Like that.”
Spencer takes this as a blessing to find a pace again, slower now as he seems to be just as enthralled by the sight as you are.
“Give me your leg,” he rasps after a few moments like that, and you don’t know what he means exactly but you lift your right leg slightly only for him to press his hand to the back of your knee and push toward your chest, effectively opening you up and giving him more range of motion. It also enables him to fuck you even deeper. Again he slows, apparently savoring the feel of you yielding around him all the way down to the hilt.
Black spots dance in your eyes as he settles at your deepest point—not pain, necessarily, just overwhelming sensation. Your jaw drops and you choke out a moan as he presses into recesses you didn’t know you had, as he shows you a part that you might have gone the rest of your life without knowing existed. He stops there, like that. Everything stops there, like that. If the cars on the road below ceased to drive, if the airplanes froze in the sky, you’d not be the least bit surprised. Somehow, you’ve unlocked a small eternity. There’s no sound but your joint heavy breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. The words just come bubbling up out of you in a little whine.
“I love you.”
Spencer’s breath pauses for a moment before he’s letting it all out at once, brushing his lips up the ridge of your nose before they settle on your forehead in what seems like a permanent kiss. A few breaths in, you allow your eyes to flutter shut. Your heart rate slows down a touch, and you settle into the moment, never having been quite so content as you are like this—never having felt quite so adored and safe.
“I love you,” he finally echoes, voice rasping, lips still pressed to your skin, still breathing against your hair. When he starts to move again, drawing back ever so slowly, you hiss softly. He raises his head from yours, and you look away from where he’s pulling out, meeting his eyes just in time for him to push back in, just as deep. They shine in the mostly-dark room and you moan unabashedly. It’s a high-pitched, sweet thing, nothing that will have the neighbors complaining—but so clearly true, from the depths of your soul, an expression of everything you’re feeling—not just the pleasure.
Although that’s good, too, as Spencer shapes you to him again and again, the head of his cock kissing places nobody’s ever been and places you hope nobody else will ever venture to. This is all you need. Him.
“Jesus,” Spencer groans, eyes fixed on your face as he fucks you slowly. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, too new to this kind of pleasure to find it anything other than mind-boggling and world altering. Your lips are still parted, allowing each sound to pass without filter. “Listen to you, beautiful.”
When he stops again, just to look down and marvel at you, you’re conflicted. On the one hand, you can taste the pleasure on the back of your tongue and he keeps taking it away when it’s so close. But on the other—you’re just as overwhelmed as he said you’d be. Your body has never had to process this kind of sensory information before, and you’re exhausted, but it’s so good.
“Spencer,” you manage. He looks up, pupils blown and eyes lidded where they’d normally be wide. “Please don’t stop.”
He swallows, spurred into action again as soon as you say it.
“Good?”
You nod and whine again as he picks up the pace bit by bit, remembering to push your leg back once more so he can get as deep as you need him.
“So good,” you exhale at the top pitch of your voice. Your brows pinch and you release a fuller moan as Spencer finds a speed that’s fast enough to constantly feel good no matter where he is. You’re gasping for breath, back arching—and he finds a new angle, catching against the spot inside you that renders all those years of human evolution that gave you sentience and intelligence a waste. He chuckles airily at your series of series of affronted moans and halted gasps.
“Right there? That's a good spot, isn’t it?”
“Oh, go—fuck, fuck!”
It feels so good it almost hurts, and your eyes are stinging to prove it. Your legs clamp tighter around him and you realize there’s a very lewd wet sound and you can’t believe that’s you.
“Spencer, you’re—oh my god, I love you,” you whine, and it sounds like you’re pleading for your life. At this makes his own sound of pleasure, and hastens his messy circles on your clit as if in reward.
But it’s too much all combined.
Your hand claps to your mouth to obscure the loud, licentious moan that comes out—but Spencer immediately moves his hand from between your legs to grab your wrist and pin it gently to the bed, intertwining your fingers.
“Don’t do that. Let me hear.”
You nod, and he lets go of your hand to return his fingers to your clit. If possible you get wetter around his cock—you can feel yourself gushing.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine as if pained.
“Yeah? Gonna finally let me feel you cumming, angel?”
He has a filthy mouth when he wants to. The words hit like high voltage to your core and the very pit of your stomach. You can’t even respond beyond a desperate sob.
“Show me, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”
You cum around his cock with a broken cry and it’s like a purge of every drop of angst you’d felt over the past week or so—hell, it’s a purge of all the insecurities that had bubbled to the surface since you started dating him. None of it matters anymore. How could it matter when you have him? When you have this?
The orgasm washes you out like a tidal wave, taking everything with it. It’s strong, and it’s so good, so intense, your body is overwrought with sensation and it’s too much even though it’s perfect. Your brain is drawing a blank as it tries to react to the feeling, and it’s like every button on the damn panel has been hit.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Spencer grits, and you feel it in the way he adjusts his position, shifting as he grips at the edge of the mattress for leverage and the thrusts become messier, needier. You gasp as his other hand tangles in your hair, turning your head to ghost your lips over his forearm. It’s not entirely surprising when his own lips find your shoulder—but the feeling of him finding his release just as his teeth sink into your skin does come as quite a shock. It doesn’t hurt, and you’re sure there’s no skin broken, but it’s an undeniable fact that he has grounded himself in the throes of passion by biting down on you.
Inside you, he feels hot. Searing, almost, as his spend tries to fill space that doesn’t exist. There is absolutely no room for anything else inside of you. Stars dance in your eyes at the overstimulation, but long after he’s finished he’s still fucking into you—albeit much slower and with far less technique. Spencer moans like a two bit whore, like he’s reached pain to a point of ecstasy, and to you it’s as good, as special as the singing of the planets. If he’s as sensitive as you are now, it’s no small feat for him to keep going on like this. It’s a testament to how much he doesn’t want it to be over. The pleasure is carrying him away, but you’re beginning to feel how soft you must be and how if he continues on like this you may bruise like an overripe peach.
“Spencer,” you manage, skating your hand up and down his back in what you hope are soothing lines. “Baby.”
He whines as his lips detach from your shoulder, but his hips finally slow to a stop, nestled inside you.
“Jesus, fuck, I'm sorry,” he breathes, opting now to bury his face in your neck (with significantly less biting this time).
You’re still reeling, toes still curled, still struggling to breathe as your head spins and spins and spins. His chest pushes against yours with every heaving breath, hot and heavy on your skin, and that’s the only sign he’s still alive until his hand eventually reanimates in your hair, scratching your head tenderly.
For a span of minutes, you stay like that—silent, twined together like caducean serpents. His weight on top of you is perfect. This, the lack of differentiation between your body and his, is perfect. You don’t know where he ends and you begin and you don’t need to. It’s a blissful moment.
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, lifting his head to look at you with flushed cheeks and messy hair and sparkly eyes.
“Hi.”
He smiles.
“You’re so pretty.”
“You too,” you murmur, moving your hand from his back and pressing your thumb into the hollow of his cheek. His eyes map the curves of your face as he pushes your surely askew hair back.
“How do you feel?”
It takes you a moment to seriously consider his question, scanning your body for any undue pains, but for the moment, you find none, beyond a dull aching throb that you can manage.
“Good. Tired.”
You wince at the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. Spencer hums sympathetically and presses a sticky kiss to your lips which makes it a little better, though you can’t ignore how uncomfortable all the previously pleasant wetness has become between your legs.
“Here—stay here, I’ll get a wash cloth and—”
“It’s fine,” you insist, holding on even as he tries to roll off of you. “I just need… will you stay here for a little bit?”
“Of course,” he promises, now pressed close to your side and propped up on an elbow, “whatever you want.”
You lavish in his gaze, warm like a spotlight, as he strokes your cheek and plays with your hair. Very quickly you’re lulled into a doze, eyes fluttering shut. Minutes stretch. You feel drunk on waking dreams, and perfectly at peace. Safe.
“Angel girl,” he christens you fondly. More than anything, it’s an observation, so lovely it sinks into your skin like a balm, soothing every tired muscle and little mark he’d made. Even half-asleep, it makes you smile.
“You’re an angel,” you slur, reaching blindly for him, and he chuckles, catching your wrist and helpfully settling your hand on his cheek.
“I thought you were asleep.”
You hum, “mm-mm,” looking up at him with just as much adoration as he has for you. Those cuddle hormones must be kicking in because soon you’re attempting to pull him back on top of you. He doesn’t quite comply, probably for fear of crushing you—rather he settles next to you, gathering you in his arms.
Silence blankets the two of you, but it’s not unpleasant as you just watch each other with barely-there smiles curling your mouths. This kind of intimacy still manages to give you butterflies, even after everything else you’ve done. This kind of satisfaction, reverie in the sound of each other’s blood flowing and lungs filling. Setting aside words because you don’t need conversation as a pretense for wanting to be around each other anymore. You don’t need an excuse to look at him like this. You don’t need words any more than you need clothes. It’s enough to just be.
“I love you,” he says, a soft reminder, and entirely redundant with the way he’d already been looking at you, touching you.
“I know. I love you too.”
The smile flickers brighter on his face.
“And thank you.”
Your eyes narrow minutely as you consider what he could possibly be thanking you for.
“For what?”
“For loving me. And trusting me. It’s…” your heart squeezes as you realizes tears are pooling in his eyes. He takes a moment and clears his throat. It’s incredibly endearing. “It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”
You look down, thumbing at the sheets where you’ve hoisted them over your bodies.
“You do realize how lame we are if we have sex and both immediately start crying, right?”
At this he laughs loudly but not loud enough to pop the little bubble you’re in, and you look up just in time to catch the brilliance of his smile, the way it changes his whole face and he becomes superhuman in his beauty, the lines that form by his eyes and the way they narrow and crystalline tears bead his lashes like precious gems.
“Don’t cry,” he requests gently, hypocritically as your own eyes sting. The way his smile fades is like the sun setting. Gorgeous, like everything else he does. “You’ve cried so much, honey. Please don’t cry.”
You sniffle, gathering yourself.
“I’m not. That would be pathetic.”
Spender leans forward to kiss you tenderly a few more times. Ordinarily you’d worry about coming across as clingy when you hold onto him so closely and so insistently like this, but for now you don’t care. Neither does he, it seems, as he seems unable to get you close enough. Eventually, you end up curled against him, head tucked under his chin and dozing on and off as he traces shapes into your skin.
“What are you writing?” You mumble some time later, cheek smushed against his shoulder. He only responds with a soft hm, like he was lost deep in thought. You clarify, “it feels like you were writing something.”
“She Walks in Beauty.”
Your lips pull into a sleepy smile.
“The Lord Byron poem?”
The first time you’d met Spencer, he’d inadvertently caused your painstakingly annotated copy of Lord Byron’s works to go flying all over a cafe, and then kindly helped clean up the pages and reorder them for you in record time. Among the poems had been She Walks in Beauty.
“Yeah. I was trying to figure out when exactly I fell in love with you, and as someone who is deeply skeptical about love at first sight, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I keep coming back to our first conversation. I mean, I believe in genetic compatibility, and how that contributes to attraction and what we think of as chemistry, but—”
“Wait, what about our first conversation did it?” Your cheeks ache from smiling as you speak. “As I recall I was being a bitch and I was covered in coffee.”
He laughs dreamily, still tracing letters over the small of your back. You wonder what part of the poem he’s at now.
“Yeah, mean to me and covered in coffee is pretty much exactly my type. But I think it was actually the annotations on that copy of Lord Byron’s works. They were so insightful, and personal, I—it kind of took my breath away, and I know I shouldn’t have read them all but I couldn’t stop. You were compelling, and charming, and funny and wildly intelligent and beautiful and… and I didn’t stand a chance.”
Everything aches. It’s a good ache. Despite being seconds from tearing up all over again, you snort. He never told you about that first day.
“You thought me writing ‘sister fucker’ in all caps every time he mentioned Augusta was charming?”
“Oh, obscenely so. But now that I’m looking back, I feel like… I feel like I can’t remember not being in love with you. I mean, I remember when I realized I was, and that was later. But it was like I met you, and then I was just… waiting for you to catch up.”
You grab his hand and interlace your fingers, watching the way the ambient nighttime light from the window and the bathroom dips them half in color.
“We were pretty much on the same page. I was debating courthouse versus small intimate ceremony as soon as you left.”
You watch him watching your joined hands, features soft and relaxed, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as he speaks.
“Definitely small intimate ceremony. I have too many friends who would kill me if they weren’t invited to the wedding.”
You giggle and pretend the thought doesn’t give you butterflies. You imagine a ring on your finger, the one he’s got between his own. Marriage had never been something you’d considered. Not when you had no reason to. It seemed like something for other people. But maybe one day, it will be for you, too.
“Did you know Lord Byron had a daughter who is regarded by many as the first computer programmer? She wrote the first algorithm for a theoretical machine that was so complex it couldn’t be built with the technology available at the time. It was called an Analytical Engine.”
He sounds almost wistful as he gives you the utterly unprompted, but still welcome, abridged version of her life. The description is ringing a bell—but you can’t quite place her, sleepy as you are.
“What was her name?”
“Ada Lovelace. She was exceptionally gifted. The odds of parent and child being so extraordinary in their respective fields are incalculable, but from a purely theoretical perspective, negligible. I mean, they’re both massive historical figureheads. That’s extremely uncommon.”
You adore it when he goes off on these tangents—the passion that stains his voice, the ardor that grips him until he has no choice but to tell you exactly what’s got him so excited. You could listen to him talk for hours. It means he’s here with you, and he wants you to love what he loves.
Since he met you, that’s all Spencer has wanted—for you to love what he loves.
You want the same.
“Pretty name,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Tell me more.”
-
part eight
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic
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⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too
⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k
‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.
“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..
Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.
“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.
What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.
“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”
You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”
Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”
Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.
“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.
“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”
You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.
“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.
Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.
“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.
You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.
“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.
Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”
“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.
Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.
Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.
“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.
Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”
His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”
“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.
Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”
Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”
“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.
Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.
.
(Not even an hour later.)
“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.
Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).
“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.
“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.
You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.
“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”
“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.
Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..
“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).
Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.
You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.
“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.
“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.
“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.
You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.
“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.
You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.
“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”
“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.
Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.
You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.
You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.
“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”
Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.
He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.
“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.
He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.
Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.
He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.
You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.
“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”
You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.
“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”
You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.
“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.
Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.
Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.
“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”
Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”
You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.
“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.
“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.
“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.
“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.
In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.
“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.
Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”
Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.
“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.
His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.
+
You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.
You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.
So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.
You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.
“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.
Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.
You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.
“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.
“Jungkookie–”
“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”
“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”
He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”
“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”
You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.
Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.
“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.
His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.
You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.
“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.
You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?
You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.
“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.
“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.
.
“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.
Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.
Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.
“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.
“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”
You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”
“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”
“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.
You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.
Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.
“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.
Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.
“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.
“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”
“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”
You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.
With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.
“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.
It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.
You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.
“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.
“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”
Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.
“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.
“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.
You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”
+
Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..
Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.
Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.
“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.
He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.
Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.
“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.
There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.
“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?
The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.
“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.
You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.
He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..
You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.
You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.
Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..
Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.
“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.
You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.
“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.
You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.
Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.
You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.
“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.
“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.
You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.
Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.
“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.
Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.
“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”
Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”
You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”
“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.
You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.
Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.
“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.
Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”
You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.
Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.
“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.
“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.
You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.
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