#and i'm sure my bathroom is safe

[crimeronan]

hello other people with chronic pain/illness. what do you do when your hobbies all make you agitated and upset and in more pain but you also can't sleep. this is a legitimate query i will accept any answers. thank u.

[caspersscareschool]

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[neighbourhoodtwo]

the pervasiveness of anti-trans rhetoric in this country is insane like do you even know why you're saying the things you're saying? do you know what you're implying? have you thought about it at all?

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-���

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[pseudowho]

You hadn't heard Kento arrive home, but moved from garden to living room like a moth to the flame, when you heard the telltale clink-clink of him removing his harness.

You sidled up behind him, a tease in your voice, dragging one languid finger down his spine.

"What's a guy like you, doing in a place like this, huh?"

A low chuckle. "I'm sure I'm meant to be here."

You bit your lip. "Me too. It must be fate. Does your wife know you're here, Mr...?"

"Nanami. And I certainly hope she does."

You weaved your way round to face him, now, sliding your hands from broad chest to shoulders, all peaks and valleys of stone.

"And what would she say," you whispered, circling one fingertip over his chest until he shivered, lifting one knee to brace against his hip, "if she knew there was someone like me, here?" Kento looked down at you, honey-rich eyes narrowing, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"That's what you want, is it?" He whispered back, low voice barely audible in the moonlight-flood living room. "A little...roleplay?" Your eyes glimmered at him in confirmation, and he chuckled. "Alright, then." You felt yourself tremble with anticipation.

Abrupt and firm, his smile replaced by a scowl, Kento removed your leg from his hip.

"Get your hands off me."

You gawped at him. Kento stepped back, clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie, the wedding ring glinting on his finger.

"I'll excuse you, just once, but I'm a married man. Happily."

"Kento, I--"

"That's Mr.Nanami to you. I don't recall us ever meeting, and I don't enjoy such intimate familiarity with strangers."

"--you are just so--"

"I'm sorry for whatever has happened in your life, for you to have such little self-respect, or respect for others, that you have such ill-intent towards a married man--"

You withered onto the sofa under his cool tirade.

"--but I wish you all the best in your future endeavours, while I wait for my wife."

"You are a fucking nightmare--"

"And how did you get in my house? I'll give you ten seconds to leave, before I call the police--"

You screamed into a sofa cushion.

"--do you have somewhere safe to go? Are you hungry? Thirsty, certainly. I can pay for a taxi--"

You felt your soul leave your body.

"--I do hope we don't meet again--"

You laughed, humourless, face down in the pillow.

"-- good day to you."

Kento walked away to the bathroom, leaving you prone and mortified on the sofa. You heard the shower start to run. You lifted your head, shouting at him, furious in your laughter.

"Fuck you for being so fucking pure, Mr.Nanami! Your wife is a lucky woman!"

A deep laugh from the bathroom. "Yes, she is."

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[cat-got-your-tongue]

too sweet for me

Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.

Content Warnings: established relationship | spanking | mention of safe word | dom/sub undertones | fingering | maturbation (male) | facials | so sorry if I left anything out. If you tell me I'll fix it.

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. Not proofread. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.

Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.

He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.

Today, he had enough.

Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.

"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.

"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."

Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."

He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.

"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."

Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.

You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.

Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.

"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.

"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."

You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.

"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.

You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.

You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.

Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.

He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.

Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.

"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.

You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.

Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"

You hesitated to answer at first.

"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.

Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"

You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.

"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.

"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.

"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"

"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.

He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.

You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.

"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.

You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.

"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.

His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"

You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."

Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.

"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.

"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.

You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.

Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.

"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.

You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."

Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.

"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.

Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.

"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."

Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.

You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.

Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.

"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.

You shook your head. "N-no."

"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.

You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.

Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.

"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.

"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."

You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.

Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.

"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.

Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.

All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.

"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.

Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.

He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.

"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.

Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.

"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.

That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.

"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.

"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.

He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.

"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.

Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.

Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.

"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.

"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.

"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.

That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.

Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.

"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.

He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.

"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.

Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.

"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.

"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.

"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.

"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.

Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.

"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."

"You still can." You reminded him.

He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."

You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.

"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"

You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.

His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.

All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.

Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.

You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.

Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.

"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.

"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.

He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.

"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.

Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.

You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"

You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.

"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.

"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."

"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.

Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."

The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) telling them you aren't wearing panties ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ skz reaction to you not wearing panties ヾ

boyfriend!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ no penetration , pet play? , degradation wc ・ ‎1.2k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. hii I hope you remember mee~ it's okay if you don't tho I'm just here to ask I'd you could do a similar reaction to this one with riize but with skz instead. The one saying their reaction to not wearing any panties on the date. Thank you so much I love you and always remember to stay safe <333

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 here you go ! enjoy it love <3

﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan ﹚ .ᐟ

thought his eyes were deceiving him; surely you would wear underwear with a skirt that short. he didn't say anything until you slid into the booth and he could see your ass poking from under the skirt , he slid right in making sure no one saw you. “what the fuck?” he sat down next to your. “where are your fucking panties babygirl?” he gritted through his teeth , just as the waiter was about to make his way over to your table. “i didn't wear any.” he could see that , what he couldn't figure is why the fuck were you trying to turn him on in this restaurant right now. “you're we already paid for the reservations.” he said , kissing your temples because the server was close. “what can I do for you guys?” he waited for the boy to leave before turning back to you.

“daddy is gonna ruin you when we get home , trust baby.”

﹙ 𐙚 : lee know ﹚ .ᐟ

he knew you were up to something , the fact that you were a little too excited to get out of the car and into the restaurant. “you must be really hungry huh?” you didn't say anything though , but that glint in your eye and that smirk he swore he saw made him curious. “what are you up to?” he said. “nothing” you smiled “innocently” and he damn sure wasn't buying it. “i have to go to the bathroom.” you got up leaving the boy alone , not even 2 moments later his phone buzzed , he picked it up , your plans becoming evident. “i fucking knew it.” he cursed. you sat back down to a seething lee know. “fucking slut you aren't wearing any underwear.” you giggled , knowing he wouldn't do anything in public , but you knew you were also done for after the date , he leaned over so you could only hear him.

“let's see if you find it later when your pussy is battered from cock and you still haven't came.”

﹙ 𐙚 : changbin ﹚ .ᐟ

you knew changbin couldn't resist praising you. “binnie , binnie look at my new shoes.” he genuinely wanted to see the shoes , looking under the table , only to be met with your legs widened. his head shot up looking at you with wide eyes. “b-baby.” he was flustered , it made you giggle. “where are your panties?” he whispered , you shrugged. “didn't feel like wearing any.” he was bewildered honestly , turned on but bewildered , he didn't even give a fuck about those shoes anymore not the food. “give me a minute , gonna pay the bill.” he stood up. “wait what about the food?”

“I'll ask them to wrap it up to go , no way im gonna sit through dinner knowing how wet you are sitting across from me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin ﹚ .ᐟ

you knew your man loved to take pictures of you during your dates , so it was perfect. you waited for him to get up from the seat to “use the bathroom” you knew he was just going to pay the bill so you wouldn't try and pay , but you let it be — quickly slipping into his seat , taking your panties off , looking around before slipping them into his jacket pocket. you smiled as you slipped back into your seat as he came back down. “how was the bathroom?” he smiled , knowing he was caught. “let me take a few photos baby.” he reached into his jacket , furrowing his eyebrows as he pulled out the lacy material. he smiled, shoving the panties back into his jacket. “you little minx.” you giggled. “my favorite pair too.”

“we should skip dessert so we can get home and i can take some photos of you laid out in bed all pretty for me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : han jisung ﹚ .ᐟ

you purposely dropped the fork on to the floor, and the poor boy just trying to be a good boyfriend crawled under the table to get it for you — only to be met with your legs wide open , your bare pussy on display. a small “fuck” leaving his mouth making you smirk as he came back from under the table , his face red as he sat the fork down. “yo-you're not wearing any panties.” he whispered , his hands coming up to his cock , fixing himself. “wh-why.” he whined , upset because he was unable to do anything because you had already denied his request to leave. “i want dessert , don't be selfish sungie.”

“why would you show me if you were just gonna torture me like this baby , im gonna cum just sitting here thinking about it.”

﹙ 𐙚 : felix﹚ .ᐟ

“i think i left my lipstick in the car.” know felix kept a spare always in his pocket for you. “don't worry baby i go it.” he reached into his jacket pocket next to him. “what is this?” he innocently took out the lace , eyes widened as he shoved it back inside. “baby when did you do that?” he said , he was sure you were wearing them when you left the house , he was in the room when you were getting dressed. “i took the off when you went to pay the bill.” he gulped adams apple bobbing. “baby fuck it's hard enough to see you dressed so pretty for me , but knowing you're pussy is probably dripping on to the seat is painful love.”

“let's skip dessert tonight , i got something else sweet i want to eat and i don't think i can wait until we get home.”

﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin ﹚ .ᐟ

you knew it would piss him off — that's why it was perfect to do it to him. your heart was racing as you hit send on your phone , your legs shaking as you watched him pick up his phone to read the message , his eye lifting up to yours , filled with a lust filled angry glare. he didn't say anything , lifting up the table cloth looking under , quietly coming up. “can't take a mutt like you anywhere can i?” he growled , you were dripping for him. “i want to go home.” you whined , needing him. “no , you're gonna sit there until the date is over.” he said , you rolled your eyes. “don't think because we're in public i won't embarrass you , i'll make you kneel right here.” you immediately stopped unsure if he was serious, but you weren't about to test that theory.

“act like a bad dog and i’ll treat you like one , let's see how funny you think this stunt is later.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin ﹚ .ᐟ

was he already looking at your ass? yes , yes he was — but that was besides the point , he could easily tell you were missing your panties through the dress. “sit the fuck down.” he hissed , you pretended to be confused , tilting your head in fake innocence. “are you fucking joking?” he growled , leaning over the table. “you aren't wearing any fucking panties.” he wanted to wipe that smile clean off your face. “didn't want panty lines.” you shrugged him off. “waitress is coming.” he could care less about the waitress. “then you wear a thong or something , i don't know.” but you wave him off. “this look is much better.” the waitress coming closer , he leaned over whispering one final threat.

“laugh now baby , shit won't be funny when your ass is sore and pussy is begging for my cock and you don't get it.”

©LUVYENI

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (5)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Illness, angst babyyy <3

a/n: I'm going insane and crazy and every iteration of that. I love writing this fic so much I want it tattooed on my forehead. Thanks, love you all <3

Read part one | part two | part three | part four | (bonus part 5) | part 6

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

You were in and out of sleep for the next few days—much to your displeasure. 

After attempting to down all the herbal remedies Azriel’s healer had left and continuing to care for your daughter without missing a beat, Azriel had made it clear that that would not fly. You told him several times to go home and not burden himself with caring for the two of you, but he was entirely too stubborn to listen to you. 

You even watched as his shadows left and returned with messages for him, sure that his High Lord was calling him home. 

But Azriel still stayed. 

He made food, he served the food, and he fed Melanie, coaxing her delirious eyes open to make sure she took medicine at the right times. You weren’t completely incapacitated, but it didn’t matter; Azriel wouldn’t allow you to lift a finger. 

He answered the door to the apothecary several times, sending away customers after collecting payments and restocking shelves, somehow privy to the knowledge of the store. You weren’t entirely confident that he wasn’t overcharging everyone or putting things in random places.

A few times, when sleep fought for the space in your mind, you felt fingers in your hair, along your face, across your shoulders. Each brush would send you deeper into the void you avoided so adamantly, and you were ignoring the fact that you had never felt safe enough to fall asleep in front of other people until now. 

You caught Azriel holding Melanie on a few occasions.

You would crack an eye open after an unexpected bout of sleep and he’d be rocking her in his arms, bouncing her to sleep as she lay her flushed face on his shoulder. 

Azriel had never told you if he had experience with children. Sure, he mentioned his closeness with Nyx and how much he loved his nephew, but that was… different from this. The ease with which he held Melanie, the instinct he seemed to have towards her—it felt different. Looked different. 

You felt an unexplainable sense of safety as you watched them. 

Melanie would pull back from his shoulder and arrange her fingers on the planes of Azriel’s cheeks and he would smile at her. And you felt safe. 

You found more energy on the third day of the fever. 

You got out of bed and took some semblance of a bath, fumbling around in the bathroom without much coordination. Your head was still fuzzy and an ache still permeated deep within your muscles, but the feeling was lessened. 

It wasn’t until after your bath that you realized you hadn’t checked on Melanie the moment you woke up. 

You hadn’t shot out of bed and raced to her room as you had done almost every morning since she was born. 

You hadn’t feared that she was somehow taken from your home, from your arms—that she was in danger of being ripped from your grasp and sent back to Autumn to live out the same cruel fate you were destined for. 

A small voice in the back of your mind offered a gentle whisper, reminding you that it was because of Azriel that you found that brief moment of peace. 

You pushed it back. 

With a shiver, you made your way down the narrow hallway to your daughter’s bedroom. 

Empty. 

You felt your heart rate tick up in a small bout of panic, but you were calmed by a fluttering in your chest just as quickly. The light pressure led you into the kitchen and then flushed into a warm bloom as the scene in front of you unfolded. 

Melanie was bundled up in a blanket and sat atop the kitchen counter as Azriel whisked the contents of a bowl. She was talking her head off about something that happened at school and Azriel was nodding his head with each exasperated huff she let out. Another glance told you that Melanie had eaten an entire plate of food before you’d entered, a feat in itself as your daughter hardly ate to begin with—let alone when she was sick. 

“Mommy!” Melanie cheered, wrapping her arms around your neck as you entered the quaint kitchen. “I thought you were gonna sleep forever. I wanted to wake you up but Mr. Azriel said you had to sleep to get better so he made me lunch.” 

“Lunch, huh?” you smiled, gathering her into your arms and sliding her off the counter. 

“Uh-huh. You slept through breakfast and lunch. Aren’t you hungry, mommy?” 

“Maybe a little bit.” 

“Well, you should have Mr. Azriel’s pancakes.” Melanie yawned. Her blinks became longer. “They’re so good, mommy. He should live with us and make them all the time.” 

From the stove, you heard Azriel breathe out a laugh. You glanced at him through your lashes as you held Melanie in your arms, the broad expanse of his wings barely contained in the kitchen. The shirt he wore strained against his arms as he shifted a pan on the burner and he didn’t look back as the two of you spoke. 

“I think I need a nap,” Melanie proclaimed, rubbing at her heavy eyes. “I thought I was a big girl at school now and didn’t need to take naps. You told me that, mommy.” 

You tore your gaze from Azriel’s back and offered your daughter a soft smile. “Well, you need rest to get better, too. So it’s okay for you to take naps right now.” 

“I don’t like having hot blood. This is so annoying.” 

You jutted your head back at her statement and made to have her explain, but Melanie shimmied from your arms and scampered off to her room before you could make a sound, her blanket dragging behind her. 

That left you alone with Azriel. 

“Hot blood?” you asked, leaning against the counter and attempting to appear casual in your own home. It was still surreal that he was up here—making pancakes in your kitchen—when just a few days ago, you never would have let him get past the stairs. 

Azriel hummed and flicked the burner off, leaning his back on a nearby counter to face you. “I think she heard what Madja said when she was explaining what was wrong with you both. Mel’s been calling it hot blood. I didn’t—I didn’t think it was my place to correct her.” 

You pressed your lips into a line and rubbed your forearm in some attempt of comfort. “Right.” A long pause. Azriel didn’t press you to speak. You did anyway to fill the dead air. “You really didn’t have to stay for as long as you did. I know this place isn’t what you’re used to and it must have been a handful with Mel—” 

“I wanted to stay,” Azriel interrupted. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your forehead, ignoring the tension you felt weighing on your shoulders. “You’re still warm.” 

“I feel a lot better. Almost completely fine. It would be okay… if you had somewhere to go. If you had to leave, I mean.” 

The hand on your forehead slid down to your chin and tilted your face up. Azriel’s gaze flickered between your eyes—back and forth with a furrowed brow as if trying to parse out a deeper meaning behind your words or solve a puzzle you hadn’t presented. His hand was hot against your chin in a way it wasn’t against your forehead. 

“You should eat,” he settled on. He brushed your still-damp hair back from your face before turning on his heel. “Mel was right. I make great pancakes and you haven’t eaten in a while. Lucky for you she didn’t finish all of them. She was close, but there are a few left.” 

You let him fuss, watched him as he rooted around the cupboards to pull out a plate and a glass, and tried to figure this out now that you were more coherent. 

Azriel had stayed—for almost three days he had stayed at your apartment and cared for you and your daughter as if it was expected. Each time you had woken up he had been there, coaxing water and bone-dry broth into your mouth before helping you see Melanie and then helping you to fall back to sleep. He had held your daughter and made her pancakes and he was still here. 

Could this somehow be nefarious? Some ploy to get close to you just to use you as a bargaining chip and send you back home? Had the High Lord demanded that his Spymaster keep a close eye on you and this was the outcome? 

No. 

No, that couldn’t be the reason Azriel was setting a plate down on the counter beside you. That couldn’t be why he caught your eye with a worried gaze and seemed to pinpoint your inner turmoil almost instantly. 

But why? 

His visits over the past few weeks had been welcomed—confusing at first, but a welcomed break from the mundane, anxiety-fueled life you lived. You had grown comfortable with him and Melanie had begun asking for him when she showed you her art projects or had questions about the walks of life. You had come to expect his presence in your store and found yourself looking forward to the chance to see him outside of Melanie’s school. 

But what could he possibly have to gain from making himself a constant in your life? 

You had asked before, a single question with a simple “Why not?” for a response that you had brushed off. Because it wasn’t too much of a big deal for him to stop by or help you lift the apothecary boxes or let Melanie talk his ear off. 

But this was a big deal. 

It was a big deal when he sat beside you until you fell asleep and it was a big deal that he was still standing here now, inches from you, eyes boring into yours. 

“Why are you doing this, Azriel?” 

Your question seemed to suck all of the air from the room. Azriel winced to such an infinitesimal degree you almost missed it. His fingers twitched as they rested on the counter. The plate of food sat forgotten, its intended distraction wasted. 

“I’ve already said.” 

You shook your head. “‘Why not’ was okay when you were stopping by the apothecary a few times a week and flirting with me for fun. It was okay when you were saving me from nosey teachers and opening doors when my hands were full. It was okay when this—” you jabbed your finger between your chest and his “—didn’t involve you in my apartment holding my daughter until she fell asleep. I need more than why not, Azriel. I need to understand if… if…” 

“What?” he whispered so close the air between you warmed. 

When had he gotten so close?

“I need to know if this isn’t safe. If there’s some other reason for all of this.” 

This time, when Azriel winced, he flinched. His body seemed to stun and his face twisted into a frown etched with such an uncomfortable pain it was difficult to look at. 

He spoke as his head shook. “I’ve told you this isn’t… I want you to feel safe with me. I thought I would have proved that was possible after this.” 

“You have,” you were quick to reply. “I wouldn’t have been able to take care of Mel if you hadn’t been here. But, that���s the thing. I don’t even know how you knew to come here. You walked in asking if I was okay—asking where Melanie was. I know your shadows spy, but why, Azriel? Why take such an interest in me? In us?” 

“Is it not enough to just want to know you?” he asked, his words tight and pained. 

“No. For others, maybe. But not… not after everything I’ve been through. Not when everything I have could be ripped away. I need a reason, Azriel. I can’t let this happen without one. I can’t put Melanie in danger.” 

“I don’t understand,” Azriel pleaded. He got closer, wrenching his head down to find your eyes. “Help me to understand. What danger are you in? I can explain, but I can’t protect you without knowing.” 

You let out an exasperated scoff, tugging at your hair and regretting the action as a headache bloomed. You took a step back until your back met the kitchen wall. 

“You can’t protect me, Azriel. You can’t.” 

“I could if you—” 

“It doesn’t make sense that you want to! You work for the High Lord. You spy for him! Do you have any idea what any of that means in the grand scheme of things? What it could mean if someone found out that the Night Court’s Spymaster was suddenly asking around about someone from Autumn?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, confusion marring his features, but you were breathing faster, the fever and the panic combining beneath your skin.

“I have stayed hidden for five years—five. I shouldn’t have sent Melanie to school. I shouldn’t have asked for help from anyone. If… if someone finds me—” 

“No one will find you. Hey—hey.” Azriel invaded your space, your back against the wall and his hands against your face. His eyes softened as they caught yours. “No one is going to find you. You need a reason why I want to be here with you? Why I care about you and Mel?” 

Your jaw quivered under his fingers. You nodded in place of speech, unable to find words that wouldn’t make tears fall down your cheeks. 

Azriel stared back at you with so much torture and conflict in his eyes you almost wanted to take back the request. He took several breaths and seemed unsure of his next words. But he held your face in his hands with such surety, strong fingers unshaken. 

The Shadowsinger brought you forward with the guide of his palms until his lips met your forehead. 

And then he pulled back and said, “You are my mate. I want to keep you safe—to protect you and Melanie—because you are my mate. You are what I’ve been waiting for for hundreds of years and if you want nothing to do with me after this, that’s fine. But if you’ll have me, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

part 6

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Stick Around

~1.2k words

Jason Todd is your best friend. But sometimes you're not sure if you're his.

"Back off. I can stitch it myself." He nearly barks at you when you press the towel to his bleeding wound.

"Come on, Jason. Why can't I help?" You ask, trying to keep the worry and pleading from your voice.

"I don't want you to." He says, firm and flat as he pulls away, dragging the towel and the first aid kit with him. He doesn't go very far, but you have a sinking feeling that's more owed to the bathroom being small than him wanting to stay near you.

You shift on your feet, torn between listening– respecting his boundaries or stepping closer to help. You take a step, unable to stay away from him when his lips curl into a frown as he starts stitching his own wound.

"Let me. I know how. You taught me." You try again, careful and soft like you're the one that terrifies the worst of Gotham.

"I said no. Just give me some space." He tells you, hands working steadily to piece his skin back together. You vaugley wonder how many times he's done this alone.

Then his words register. You can't stop your face from crumbling. "You want me to leave?"

He doesn't look up, doesn't respond, too engrossed in his injury.

You nod a little, more to yourself than him as you scoot around him, avoiding brushing any part of him as you slip out the bathroom door. Hesitating, you quietly close the door behind you and linger in the hallway, unsure. How much space did he want? Was he upset with you? Did he want you to leave the apartment?

You let out a sigh and slowly head for the apartment door. You can stay at friends tonight. Stuffing down the emotions welling in your chest, you grab your jacket and start to shove your shoes on.

"Where are you going?" A sharp tone cuts you out of your self pity.

"You told me to leave?" You question, gaze snapping to him.

He stands there, hand over the gauze wrapped on his side and studies you. "No."

"No?" You echo, slowly lowering your coat.

"I only– I didn't want you to get any blood on you. Or see me like that. I don't want you to leave. Why would I ever not want to see you?” He says with a scoff, stepping closer to pull you away from the door, glaring at it like it personally offended him. “You’re the only person I want to be around, it’s maddening, I don’t know why anyone else even tries to speak to me when I can’t get my mind off of you-“

He shudders, like a huge weight has left his shoulders, words cutting off. He presses a kiss against your skin, without thinking, his mouth finding the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, pulling you tight against him. "I want you to stay here. With me." He murmurs against your skin before pulling back just enough to see your face.

"Oh." You fall quiet for a moment, looking anywhere but him as you start to speak again, fighting the heat that threatens to take over your face, "I don't mind. Blood, I mean. Not if I'm helping you."

He can't stop the smile that comes to his face, always so easy and present around you.

Jason reaches out, his fingers touching your chin, gently tapping it, to make you look at him. “Do you still think I don’t want you here? That I don’t want you around?” he asks, voice low.

You waver, eyes trailing back to his. "Well, no, I mean, I know you want me around."

"Good." He says softly, fingers lingering on your skin, on your face, on your waist. It makes you feel wanted, needed, safe.

The moment is so soft, so warm and inviting you want to lose yourself in it. But it feels like a lie to let yourself stay in it. Not when he's all you ever seem to want. When you dream of the color of his eyes and the feeling of his skin against yours. "Are you feeling dizzy? Need to sit down?" You ask, cutting the moment, the feeling that it could be something more, short.

He hums softly, like he expected your avoidance. "You don't have to run from me."

That makes you blink, surprise painting your features. "I'm not running. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh please, there's so many things I know you've been holding out on me." He laughs a little before kissing your neck and whispering into your ear. "You wanted me way before I knew it was okay to admit wanting you. And now I'm going to make up for all that lost time." He looks at you with an intention you can feel behind his eyes. "There's nothing I won't do for you, nothing that I won't give you because you deserve the world and more." He kisses your forehead and smiles down at you softly as he sighs your name. "So don't run."

That makes your brain short circuit. And then the flood of scrambled thoughts overtake your mind. He knows you want him? Of course he does– He's one of the greatest detectives in the world, maybe even the universe. Why did you think you could hide it? How long has he known? But one thought persists above the rest. He wants you to?

Jason gently taps your hip, dragging your attention from the frantic jumble of questions in your head. "Focus on me. Not whatever's going on in your head. I don't need an answer right now. I just want you to be here." He says your name like it's precious, a treasure to keep close. "Please."

You nod slowly, trying to calm your pounding heart, to get your body to listen to you and answer him or touch him or anything.

"I could just kiss you right here. I could do that. You know, just take advantage of the situation? How you can't seem to believe that I want you. But..." he tilts his head, running his thumb along your jaw, "I want to kiss you when I know you're ready. For you to want it as badly as I do, pretty."

"What if I do?" You ask quietly, scared to break the tension building around the two of them. "What if I want to kiss you, Jason?"

"Yeah?" he whispers, his fingers finally gripping your hair, his thumb lightly caressing your neck. His eyes are locked on yours, and all the emotions that seem to be swirling around inside him right now are all concentrated on one, simple thing: keeping you.

"Yeah." You echo, just as quiet and soft as his voice.

He doesn't ask again, doesn't hesitate, just kisses you with the desperation of years of built of tension and longing glances. He kisses you like you're worth something, and you are. You're everything to him, and he now that he has you like this, he won't let a day pass without reminding you.

Your fingers curl in his shirt, his hand tightens in your hair and everything else seems to fade away when you deepen the kiss. Jason Todd is your best friend. And you're starting to believe that you're more than just that to him.

[queers-gambit]

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[oreo-creampie]

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure intense fluff, kissing, cuddling, squeezing, handsy pouty bastard, insisting you’ve been neglecting him, his is dying and it’s all your fault, how dare you do this to him, he will hold you accountable for your heinous crimes by cuddling you, toji is going soft for you, established relationship

Standing in front of your vanity, slipping your earrings off, sticking them with the rest. Glancing into your vanity mirror when Toji emerges from the bathroom.

Arms crossed over his bare pecs sticking his bottom lip out in his adorable pout. It’s one of your favorite Toji expressions. He huffs, “Finally someone figures where they live.”

He unzips the back of your dress. “You weren’t here!” kissing your shoulder. Slipping it down your body, trailing gentle sloppy kisses down your back. “The house was so empty and cold, I was dying of loneliness little mama.”

Stepping out of your dress, he tossing it into the hamper beside the bedroom door. “Is it even a home without you there?” His warm fingers brushing against your back unclasping your bra, gliding the straps off your shoulders. His touch comforting.

You insist, “Without you this place is just some walls.” Grabbing his hands, kissing his warm palms. Glancing into the mirror, Toji “It’s also not my fault you showed up two days early. Couldn't rush a planned girl’s night for your needy ass.” Turning around sliding your hand over his thick pecs, broad shoulder and into his soft dark hair.

“Im only needy when it comes you to mama. You’re so cruel neglecting me.” Grabbing your ass, lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist.

“We aren't leaving for the weekend. Tired of seeing everyone’s ugly ass faces and hearing their annoying ass voices.” He kisses the top of your head. “Just need to spend some time with you mama.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing your tightly.

Wheezing, “I'm all your’s Teddy Bear!” Your back pops several times. Gasping for sweet air when he loosens his gasp.

“Damn right you are.” Kissing along Toji’s jawline, softly biting his pouty bottom lip, melting into his gentle kiss.“It’s not fair mama I can't squeeze you like I want to.” Carrying you through the hallway, towards the living room. “Get good mama, lemme squeeze you tighter.”

“Nah Teddy Bear that’s a you problem.” Squeezing Toji’s slim waist with your legs, tightening your grasp around Toji’s neck. “I can hug you as tight as I want. Ha-ha-haha!” Ripping you off him and throwing you onto the sofa.

“Imma make it your problem little mama.” Carefully falling on top of you, pinning your body with his weight. Resting his head on your chest. “Hahah! Looks whose trapped now! I’m not letting you go anywhere beautiful.”

Pushing himself up, and leaning in for a kiss. “All mine.” Parting your lips, the gentle hunger of his passionate kiss replacing your need for air. Slipping your fingers through his soft dark hair.

When he pulls away, covering your face with kisses. You grin widelyz “I missed ya so much teddy bear, I’m all your’s for the rest of the week. I’ll make sure you get sick of me.” Giving your forehead another gentle kiss, squeezing your hips.

It’s comforting having his heavy weight pressing you into the bed. His large strong hands on your body making you feel so safe and protected. His gentle kisses and words ensuring you know how cherished you are.

His cheeks turn pink, spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring the tips of his ears. “I can never get enough of you.” His eyes widen. “Listen to me, ya made me all mushy, gonna have to hold you responsible. Hmm how should I do that.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

Satoru’s verison!

[catssluvr]

𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅, spencer reid

spencer reid x roommate!reader

in which everybody’s falling in love and you’re falling behind or you come back from an awful date and spencer comforts you. well, he does his best

warnings: kinda sad for a bit, r really wants to be loved, two idiots in love <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You take off your shoes as soon as you reach your apartment's floor, exhaustion taking over. One hand reaches inside the bag to pull of the keys and the other rubs against your face one more time. You're sure your mascara is all smudged already. Not that you would ever cry for someone like that, but you don't think you've heard someone talk about their car as much as him and it honestly made you get sleepy.

You regret accepting to go on a blind date, deeply. It's never been your thing so why did you decide it was a good idea?

The truth is that it's hard to watch all of your friends fall in love and brag about their happy relationships when you don't even know how it feels to truly be loved. It's also not great that you're in love with your roommate when it's clearly not reciprocate. You have so much love to give, so why can't you find love as well?

Besides, the guy you just went out with is a total jerk. He made at least four sex jokes before the drinks arrived and bragged about his career for about half of the time (the other half was about his car). As soon as dinner was over you practically bolted out the restaurant, ignoring his comment about a 'second desert'. It's safe to say you never want to see him again.

Unlocking the door with a sigh, you are met with the sight of Spencer sitting comfortably on the couch with a book in his hands. You curse inside your head, it's not that you don't want to see him. In fact, you think he looks absolutely adorable in a sweatshirt all curled up in his seat. But you don't want him to see you like this, it's obvious your date didn't go well.

"Hey, you're home early." His voice is laced with fatigue. He leaves the book behind and approaches you, his signature smile in full display.

"Yep." You use all your strength to give him a smile back. You don't want to be unpleasant with him just because of a not so great date. Turning your back to him just as fast to place your shoes on the shoe rack.

"How did it go?" He asks tentatively and you frown at the way he seems nervous to know the answer.

"Uh- not great." You decide to not elaborate it, all you want right now is to bury yourself in your bed covers and cry.

"Oh, i'm sorry." You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, you really don't want his pity. What you miss is the way a sparkle of what looks like relief flashes across his eyes. Before you can dismiss yourself he adds, "You know, given half a billion potential soulmates, the chances of finding your true love on a blind date are one in ten thousand."

As much as you want to tell him that's not necessarily what you need to hear right now, you don't feel like you have enough strength to do it. You know he's mostly trying to comfort you and he's just really not an expert when it comes to emotions.

"Yeah, i guess so." You answer and it's now his time to frown. You're usually way more excited to hear about his statistics. "I'm just gonna go to my room. Night, Spence." And then you're scrambling to your room, closing the door behind you before he can have a reaction.

Exhaling deeply, you throw your bag somewhere in the room and move to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and quickly discard your clothes to the floor, feeling immediately better when the warm water hits your skin.

Stepping out, you get yourself into some comfy sweats and a large old shirt before rushing through your skincare. Not bothering to dry your hair, you slip under the covers with a content hum. You can't help but imagine how it would be better if Spencer was laying with you, it would be tempting to curl up against his sweatshirt and forget about all of your problems.

Snapping out of your daze, you grab your laptop and settle for a comfort show that you know will help you relax. Your stomach grumbles slightly in hunger and you now realize how you had barely touched your food at dinner. Ignoring it anyway because the chances of you leaving your bed for the rest of the night are very low.

A gentle knock sounds from your door and you grumble, dragging yourself to open it. But as soon as you do, regret fills you for getting annoyed at all. There stands Spencer, wide and concerned eyes staring at you.

Now you take a moment to actually look at him and not just his sweatshirt. His hair is mussed by his position in the couch, his mismatched socks peeking from his sweatpants and his lanky hands hold a bowl of mac and cheese and a can of your favorite soda - like he's read your mind. It just reminds you of a few of the reasons to why you're so head over heels for him. He can read you like a book without having to profile you.

Sometimes you wonder how you're ever even going to get over him. Since becoming his roommate a year ago, this was the first time you had gone out on a date. It's not that you didn't want to go on dates, not being the most outgoing person came with it's liabilities. But you always thought going out with someone would make you forget about Spencer. Turns out it just made you realize how perfect he is compared to any other guy.

"I-I just thought maybe this could cheer you up. I know i wasn't much of a help." He smiles sheepishly, standing awkwardly on his feet. Your heart clenches at remembering how you dismissed him earlier.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to." You smile back kindly, looking at him with nothing but adoration.

He clears his throat nervously, "You know- uh- there's a study that says hugs slow down the heart rate and decreases the level of cortisol, the stress hormone. In turn, it makes people feel relaxed and safe." He stutters along his words.

You can't help but chuckle at his peculiar way of offering a hug. "A hug would be great, Spence." You say as you take the food from his and settle it somewhere on your bed. Returning quickly to stand by him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder with no hesitation.

He visibly relaxes at that, nose burying in your head and breathing in lightly. His sweatshirt really does feel just as soft as it looks. He squeezes you, hard enough to pull a giggle out of you but somehow affectionately.

You find yourself not wanting to pull away, a dramatic pout forming in your mouth when you force yourself to do it.

"You wanna make me company while i eat? We can watch Star Trek." Your fingers move almost involuntarily to untangle his curls as you speak.

He nods eagerly before mumbling, "Yes, but we're watching Friends. Last time i picked so we should watch something you like this time." Before he's walking to your bed, sitting comfortably with the covers to his lap.

You almost blush at the thought of him wanting to watch your favorite sitcom with you.

When you join him in bed, he's already setting up the show on your laptop and your heart almost bursts at how comfortable you feel with it, with him.

You eat your mac and cheese, occasionally offering him a few bites.

You feel a weight on your shoulder and turn to see Spencer with his cheek pressed up against it comfortably. You question if he feels sleepy but his he looks wide awake, gaze fixated on the screen in front of you.

Your thoughts drift again as you look at him. You question if maybe this i all just a silly crush because he's so nice to you. But you really don't think you're supposed to be thinking about a silly crush on a date with another guy.

Or maybe you just need to tell him. Maybe if you confess it to him it'll be easier for you. It wouldn't be a secret anymore and even though he doesn't feel the same, a weight would be lifted off your shoulders. You don't really get to think much about it before the words are spilling out of your mouth.

"Spencer?" You call gently and he answers with a small hum, not moving from his position on your shoulder. "I only went on that date because of you." You admit, heart breaking when you feel him tense up and sit up.

"Why- What do you mean?" His brows furrow in confusion.

"I only went on a date because i thought it would help me get over my feelings for you, turns out i'm way too in love for that. And i'm sorry, i know it's one sided. But can we please keep being friends? I promise i can pretend we didn't have this talk- i just needed to get it off my chest." You feel your eyes grow wet as the words come out, imagining the worse scenarios possible. It's already bad enough to feel like you're never going to experience true love, you don't want to lose your best friend too.

"You think i don't love you?" Spencer seems even more confused now, but he looks at you more gently than ever. His eyes glow with the dim yellow light and you find it hard to concentrate on his words.

"Not the way i do, Spence." You breath out, eyes fully glassy now and you're sure that anything can cause you to fall apart now.

"I leave you coffee and a note every morning, i've read all of your favorite books just so i could learn about your interests, i got an email just so you could send me videos of cats and i don't feel disgusted with the idea of eating your food or giving you hugs - not at all." He pauses before adding, "You think i don't love you?" He asks again, just as gentle as before - if not more. It's more of an affirmation then a question.

"Oh." You can't help but feel like you've been blind for all this time. You were so stuck with thinking that you would never find someone you could comfortably show your love for that you didn't notice he was right there, right under the same roof.

"I'm such an idiot." You chuckle, rubbing the tears off your eyes with the back of your hands.

"You are. But i'm also a complete idiot for never doing anything about it." He grinned sweetly, moving to sit closer and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Hm, how 'bout i kiss you, you kiss me back, and we call it even?" You play with the long sleeves of his sweatshirt, smile mirroring his.

Spencer's cheeks redden as he pretends to think before he lets out a chuckle of his own, "I'm in."

You have to contain your smile when you lean closer, lips finally touching his after waiting for so long. And now that you get to do it, you don't think you ever want to stop. His hands gently hold your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks in the softest way, as if you can break with anything.

It doesn't last as long as you would have wished, both your smiles getting in the way.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[rueclfer]

Fake Dating Pt 2 // Bakugou

a/n thank you for loving the first part so much! i hope you love this fluffy, wholesome moment as well :'-)

-

You wake up with a sour taste in your mouth. The headache wasn't so splitting thanks to the amount of water you had been forced to chug the night before, but beyond that, every other memory of last night seemed hazy.

I'm home... It's 9am...I'm in my bed, and I'm safe.

You release a sigh of relief and rub your eyes of the morning grogginess. You scroll through your phone, trying to replay the contents of last night, until you get to the bottom of your conversation with Katsuki. You suddenly remember why you started drinking so much in such a short amount of time in the first place.

You kissed him. You kissed him and you ran away because you couldn't deal with your feelings, and now you're here having to pray the memory away. Maybe you could play it off as a part of the bit? Surely, he would understand the drastic measures you needed to take to ensure that no one else from the other classes around would bother him anymore.

You smother a pillow into your face and scream in frustration as well as cringing at yourself, all while trying to remember the way his lips felt against yours in the back or your head.

"FUCK!" You exclaim loudly, throwing the pillow across the room.

Immediately, your bedroom door swings open, causing you to scream at the sudden intrusion.

"Jesus fucking christ, Y/N. What happened?!" Katsuki comes in, holding the metal bar from your towel holder, with only his boxers on.

You were going to throw up. Yup. You were 100% going to throw up and then throw yourself out the window.

You immediately cover your eyes with your hands.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You scream back.

He had probably only been around to your apartment a few times with the others, but he clearly made himself comfortable.

"How the fuck do you think you got home last night?" He sighs, lowering his guard and makeshift weapon. "I was scared you were going to throw up in your sleep or something so I crashed on the couch... and used your shower."

You two stare at each other for a moment. You noticed his hair was still wet with droplets of water falling off onto his shoulders and chest. You tried not to stare and to maintain eye contact, but he was quite literally shirtless... and in his boxers...in your room... alone.

Realization finally hits you.

"Did you change me out of my clothes?" You slowly say, looking down at your pajama shirt and shorts that had replaced last night's outfit.

He pressed his lips together. "Yeah, but the lights were off."

You face flares with heat.

"Katsuki." You groan in your hands with embarrassment. "What the fuck?"

"What do you mean, what the fuck? Isn't that the polite thing to do? I didn't even look and I took your makeup off too, you're fucking welcome." He rolls his eyes.

"In return, I'm stealing your All Might band tee."

"Fine, dumbass. Top drawer on the far right." You huff.

"I know." He digs through the drawer, pulls out the tee and slides it over his head before making his way to your bed.

"Aht aht! What are you doing?" You say, threatening to throw another pillow at him.

"Didn't you want to talk about last night?" He smirks knowingly. "A refresher perhaps?"

You groan and rub your temples. "You're so annoying." You mutter. "Okay, the kiss. Let's talk about the kiss because if I have to talk- or even think about it anymore after this, I might just explode."

"Mmm okay. The kiss." He begins, flopping down on your bed and propping himself up with his elbow. "And before we continue, do you happen to remember everything else that happened after you scurried off in embarrassment?"

You froze. Everything else? What else was there to discuss besides the kiss?

"I mean yeah, kinda?" You try to recall. "We kissed, I went to go get a drink, got drunk in the bathroom, and then you came and took me home?" You open your phone to show him your text conversation. "What else was there?"

A smile grew on his face. "Angel face, I hate to break it to you but I don't think the kiss was the main event of the night."

Panic starts to set in. "We didn't hook up, did we?"

"No. I wouldn't do that to you, one. And two, I'm sure you'd be able to feel it if we did." He smirks.

You slam a pillow down on his face. "Stop fucking around with me! If not that, then what is it? Because you're scaring me now, Katsuki. Did I go streaking through the house? Did I get in a fist fight with someone? Did I confess my undying love to someone?"

"Not to that dramatic extent, but yeah pretty much." He shrugs.

"I'm going to fucking choke you out." You gripped the comforter in frustration "YEAH PRETTY MUCH TO WHICH PART?"

There was a beat of silence between you two, but your heart was racing out of your chest.

"It's not a big deal....if you don't want it to be a big deal, but in your drunken state, you essentially told me that you had feelings for me." He says, pressing his lips together trying to anticipate your reaction.

Your mouth gape open, and the air from your lungs expel. "I need to give me line by line breakdown of what the fuck I said last night."

It felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Not only did you embarrass yourself, but you had also managed to ruin your dynamic with Katsuki in the span of a few drunken hours.

"Well when I found you, you were pissed at me for no reason. So I asked you if it was because you kissed me- because again, how the fuck does it make sense that you're mad at ME when you were the one that- anyways besides that, I asked you, and you started crying and shit and then told me you LIKE-liked me." He says, all while fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "That's pretty much it, but imagine that you're full on crying and snotting all over me and in hysterics ya know."

You were silenced. You had terribly fucked up and knew that there was no way you could backtrack. You had complicated feelings about Katsuki and your arrangement for a while, but accepted its fate of ending with you two drifting back to friends as soon as you no longer needed each other's services.

"I really don't want you to freak out about this, okay?" He fills in the silence. "I get it, you were drunk so it's probably some bullshit. Tell me it's not true and we can pretend like it didn't happen."

Your heart ached. You did want this to go away, but at the same time if you don't take this chance to tell him about your feelings, you'll end up having to choke it down until you're forced to get over it in secret.

"Don't hate me." You say. "Please don't hate me."

"Tell me." He quietly says, almost holding his breath.

You shove your face into your hands. "It's so fucking complicated because of the fake relationship stuff. It's all supposed to be for show and to help each other out, but fuck it feels so real sometimes and I constantly remind myself that it's not, but...it feels REAL."

You finally look up at him. You couldn't quite read his expression- it was almost upset? Maybe pained?

"You look mad. Please don't be upset at me. Maybe we shouldn't do this fake dating thing anymore, and I'm sorry because I know we kind of needed each other for it, but I don't think I can stand faking it when it doesn't feel fake anymore."

He lets out a long breath of air. "Fuck okay so... you have feelings for me. Like real feelings outside of whatever this thing is that we're doing.

You cringe. "I have real feelings for you-I like-like you, or whatever the fuck I said last night. And I hate you too for making me go to that party and talking to and touching me like that and letting me cry to you about this just for it to all spill out now."

"Dammit, Y/N" He mutters, rolling off your bed and pacing around the room. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect things to get out of hand like this, and if I knew sooner or caught onto any hints, I would've done something about it earlier."

To say you were devastated was an understatement. You told him you had feelings for him, and he told you he was sorry. You couldn't be surprised. There was a reason why he needed a fake girlfriend so bad. He wasn't that guy to care for superficial things like romance and relationships and just needed to use you as a cover to stop people from bothering him about it, and vice versa.

"Don't be sorry. Really, it's not your fault." You wave off, your expression hardening. "We had an agreement, and I crossed that line. It is what it is."

"So now what? Where does that leave us?" He stops and looks at you.

You couldn't help but scoff. "There's no us, Katsuki. It was all for show. We tell everyone we 'broke up' and move on- that's it. We can go back to being friends, or acquaintances, or whatever the fuck we were before we started doing all this."

He blankly stares at you. You saw the gears turning in his head, his furrowed brows deep in thought made it look like he was trying to solve the most impossible equation, when in reality it was this poor boy's brain trying to process his emotions.

"Fuck, wait, I think I fucked up." He begins, a blush suddenly flooding his cheeks. "When I said I would've done something about it earlier, I meant telling you that..um ditto?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

You shoot him a blank stare. "Use your words, Katsuki. What the fuck does that even mean?"

He dramatically groans into his hands. "Fuck!" He starts pacing around once again. "I don't want to stop being with you, okay? And I know that shit is complicated, but I think I want it to work out, but... for real this time."

A beat of silence passes while you process.

"Oh.. so you... like me?" You were appalled.

"Like-like." He confirms.

Here you guys were, two emotionally-constipated people who had just confessed to one another trying to figure out how to go about this situation next.

"And you realized this when?"

"Right now when you were pissing me off and saying that we had to break up." He kneels down on the floor, next to the bed and right beside you.

"You realize that if we start dating for real, you're going to have to be an actual boyfriend? And do boyfriend things? Not just be my fake boyfriend who is only ever in my presence when we're at a function together or with our friends?"

"Is that not what I've already been doing?" He scoffs. "I drive you places, call you pretty, watch movies, cuddle, hold your hand, and everything in between and more?"

You roll your eyes. "But that's always been for show."

"And for my own pleasure." He deadpans. "With or without an audience, I liked doing all of that shit with you."

He suddenly reaches over and grabs your hand, which was no surprise as sweaty as yours. "Hands held, and we're in private. Good start, yeah?"

A smile grows on your face. "You're such a loser."

"Yours."

"Right." You blush. "But don't expect me to give in so easily. You need to take me on dates and stop being mean to me and saying that I laugh like a goose and shit."

"Anything you want, angel face, and I'll give it to you- even with your honking."

-

taglist: @im-lost-please-help @babycheech @cupkiki @html-nae @zz-snow-zz @svnnysidez @v3n7s @lovra974 @yappydoo @canarystwin @liluvtojineteyam @jaxyy219 @aespie @starynigvt @m-0ona @fictonal-men-dum @simp-plague @buggie07 @yendysdys

[edsbug]

soaked

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you shower with eddie. things turn steamy. (wc: 1.6k)

contains: 18+ NSFW mdni!, fluff turned smut, oral (female receiving), eddie eats reader out while on his knees, fingering, piv.

authors note: this is my first attempt at writing proper smut. english is not my first language, please forgive any mistakes<3

The gentle patter of water hitting the tiled floor filled the small bathroom of Eddies trailer. Steam swirled through the air, wrapping everything in a warm, misty embrace. You both stood under the showerhead, the hot water cascading over both of you, easing away the stresses of the day.

Eddie ran his fingers through your wet hair, his touch light and soothing. His rings, now safely discarded on the sink, usually added a cool contrast to his warm skin, but tonight, it was just the warmth of his hands.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and comforting. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. Moments like these, where the chaos of the world was shut out, felt like pure bliss.

You reached for the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount into your palm before lathering it into his hair. Eddie closed his eyes, a content sigh escaping his lips as your fingers massaged his scalp.

"You're really good at this," he chuckled, opening one eye to peek at you. "Maybe you missed your calling as a hairdresser."

You laughed, a light sound that made Eddie's heart swell. "Maybe. But I think I like my current job better."

"And what's that?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye.

"Taking care of you," you replied, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

Eddie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The water continued to cascade over you both, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his body against yours, his heartbeat steady and strong.

"You do a pretty great job of it," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "I don't know what l'd do without you."

"You'd survive," you teased, running your hands down his back. "But your hair would be a mess."

Eddie laughed, the sound deep and rich, echoing off the tiled walls. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, the water making your lips slide together effortlessly. When he pulled back, his dark eyes were filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

Gently, you turned Eddie around, guiding him to face the showerhead. You started to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, your fingers working through the soapy strands. Eddie leaned into your touch, his muscles relaxing under your careful ministrations.

He hummed in contentment as you continued to work the shampoo out of his hair. Once it was all rinsed out, you grabbed the conditioner, spreading it through his dark locks. Your fingers moved methodically, ensuring every strand was coated.

"You know," Eddie said, his voice light with humor, "I could get used to this kind of treatment."

"Don't get too used to it," you teased, though your tone was affectionate. "I might start charging you."

Eddie chuckled, turning his head to look at you over his shoulder. "I'm sure we could work out some kind of arrangement."

You laughed, shaking your head as you continued to run your fingers through his conditioned hair. "I'm sure we could."

After a few more minutes, you rinsed out the conditioner, making sure Eddie's hair was soft and clean. He turned around to face you, his pupils blown.

"Your turn," he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Before you could protest, Eddie had taken the shampoo bottle from your hand, squeezing some into his palm. He reached up, gently massaging it into your hair. You closed your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips as his fingers worked through the strands.

"See?" he said softly. "I can take care of you too."

"I never doubted it," you replied, leaning into his touch.

The rest of the shower was spent in comfortable silence, the two of you taking turns washing each other's bodies. Warm water cascaded around you, mixing with the scent of soap and the steam that filled the air.

As Eddie's hands continued to explore your body, the gentle caresses began to ignite a deeper desire. He picked up a bar of soap, lathering it between his hands until it was covered in frothy suds. Slowly, he began to spread the suds across your skin, his touch both tender and electrifying. The feel of his hands gliding over your body, slick with soap, sent shivers of pleasure down your spine.

Eddie's gaze darkened with desire as he watched the soap suds slide over your curves, his fingers tracing patterns in the bubbles. The sight of your wet, glistening skin and the feel of your curves beneath his hands were intoxicating, his own arousal growing stronger.

"Eddie," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His response was immediate. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, his hands roaming over your wet skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You pressed closer to him, feeling the heat between you grow as the soap and water continued to pour down, forgotten.

Eddie's hands found your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal, hard against your thigh. The sensation sent a shiver of excitement through you, and you moaned into his mouth, your own desire pooling low in your stomach.

"Let me take care of you." he murmured against your lips.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his lips continued their journey, moving lower. He paused briefly at your breasts, taking a moment to tease your nipples with his tongue, drawing soft moans from your lips.

"Please," you breathed, your fingers threading through his wet hair, urging him on.

Eddie sank to his knees, kneeling in front of you. He glanced up at you, the water trickling gently down his face. "I've got you, sweetheart," he murmured.

When his lips finally reached your inner thighs, he took his time, kissing and nipping gently, making you squirm with need. Eddie felt his knees bruising against the tile floor, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair as you let out a desperate moan, your hips lifting slightly in a silent plea.

Eddie's hands slid under your thighs, holding you in place as he settled between your legs.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.

Before you could respond, Eddie's lips were on you, his tongue exploring your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that sent shivers down your spine. The sensation was electrifying, each touch igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

You couldn't suppress the moans that escaped your lips, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair, pulling him closer.

Eddie's tongue moved with expert precision, finding every sensitive spot that made you gasp and writhe. He skillfully alternated between slow, languid licks and quick, intense flicks that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Your hips began to move in rhythm with his mouth, seeking more of the delicious sensations he was creating.

You whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of rushing water.

Eddie's gaze lifted to meet yours, a glint of determination in his eyes as he understood your unspoken plea. Without hesitation, he shifted his focus, his lips closing around your clit in a firm yet gentle embrace.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Eddie began to suckle and tease, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of his tongue. Your fingers tightened in his hair, earning a deep moan from him.

His hand left your thigh and deftly found its way to your entrance. His fingers teased the sensitive skin there, circling slowly before gently pushing inside. The feeling of fullness felt intoxicating, making you arch your back and cry out.

His fingers moved in a rhythm that matched the movements of his tongue, each thrust and curl inside you amplifying the sensations and pushing you closer to the edge.

“Eddie, please…” you begged softly.

“I know baby, I know” he said as he rose from his knees.

Eddie’s lips crashed against yours once more, your taste still lingering on his tongue. His hands lifted you slightly so that he could position himself at your entrance. You wrapped your legs around his waist, gasping as you felt him begin to push inside you.

The sensation of him filling you was almost overwhelming, the pleasure intense as he slowly buried himself to the hilt. Eddie groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he paused for a moment, giving you both a chance to adjust.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You moaned in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to pull him even closer.

Slowly, Eddie began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. The sound of the water hitting the floor mixed with your gasps and moans, creating a symphony of desire that echoed off the tiled walls.

Eddie's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent as the need to bring you both to the edge took over. You clung to him, your body arching in response to each thrust. The steam-filled bathroom seemed to shrink around you, the world outside disappearing as you lost yourselves in each other.

"Eddie," you gasped, your voice breaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "I'm close."

"Me too," he replied, his breath hot against your ear. "Come with me, sweetheart."

With a deliberate move, he shifted his hand, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing in circles. With a final, deep thrust, Eddie sent you over the edge, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he followed you into ecstasy, his own release filling you completely.

For a moment, the two of you just held each other, the only sound in the room the gentle patter of the shower and your ragged breaths. Slowly, Eddie lowered you back to the floor, his arms still wrapped around you as you both tried to catch your breath.

Just as you began to relax into the warmth of the afterglow, a sudden shock of icy cold water hit you both.

"Eddie!" you shrieked, jumping away from the freezing stream. "The water!"

He laughed, his eyes wide with surprise as he fumbled to turn off the faucet. "Looks like we used up all the hot water."

You both scrambled out of the shower, dripping wet and shivering. Eddie was still chuckling as he rubbed his arms to ward off the cold.

"Not exactly how I pictured this ending," he said, his grin wide and mischievous.

You couldn't help but laugh, despite the chill.

Eddie quickly wrapped you in a warm towel, as you snuggled into him. "Still love you, even if you did turn me into an icicle," you muttered.

"Love you too, popsicle," he replied, pulling you closer.

[saeist]

a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...

"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.

rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair

"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding

with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him

"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours

"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"

touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home

but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment

"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.

"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.

touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach

"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening

you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.

he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin

you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home

that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little

"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.

you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.

that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–

"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech

"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.

you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.

now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord

"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.

what a tease!

"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.

touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons

“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.

your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.

"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.

"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.

moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side