#going to just get off my phone read a little and then go to bed probably

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Right Person, Wrong Time

Fandom: Women’s College Basketball, cheer (UConn/USC AU)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x cheerleader!Reader

Rating: Teen (mild language and suggestive themes)

Summary: she was always the right person for you, just needed to let go of a bad one first…

🏷️: @yailtsv , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld

If there’s one thing I learned from being with Paige Bueckers, it’s that love doesn’t always disappear when things end. Sometimes, it lingers in the background, quietly existing while life pushes you in different directions.

We broke up nearly two years ago, right before college decisions dropped. Me, heading to USC for biology and cheer, and Paige, committed to UConn to chase her basketball dreams. We ended on good terms—mutual understanding, love still present, but timing? Off. And somehow, I never fully left her life.

Her little brother, Drew, still FaceTimes me to play Fortnite. Her dad still invites me on family vacations. And Paige? Well, she’s still… Paige. Calm, collected, and forever nonchalant, making it impossible for anyone to read her. Including my girlfriend, Taylor, who despises the fact that I’m still so intertwined with my ex and her family.

I get it. I’d be insecure too if the person I loved was best friends with their ex. But what Taylor doesn’t get is… Paige and I? We let go of the relationship, but never the bond.

⸻

“Yo, you ready for lab?” Paige’s voice echoes through my phone as I scramble to grab my lab notebook.

“Not really,” I sigh, balancing my phone against my mirror as I tie my hair up. “I was up all night studying. Professor Kim is gonna eat me alive if I mess up this dissection.”

Paige laughs, that soft chuckle that used to be my favorite sound. “You got this, bio nerd. Plus, March Madness is coming up, so you’ll need to be focused when you fly out here to see me kill it in the tourney.”

I grin. “As if I’d miss it.”

Before Paige can respond, Taylor storms into my dorm, eyes glued to her phone.

“Are you serious right now?” she snaps, shoving her screen in my face.

I squint, realizing it’s Paige’s latest Instagram story. A memory from when Drew and I were half-asleep in Paige’s dorm, watching Fast and Furious while Drew practically used me as a body pillow. The caption? “We need to run the late-night movie and cuddle sesh back.” And yes, Paige tagged me. And I reposted it to my story with a simple emoji “😊”

I internally sigh.

“Taylor, it’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep? Your ex is literally reminiscing about cuddling with you. Do you even respect me?”

Before I can speak, Paige’s calm voice cuts through the tension.

“She’s over me, Taylor. You’re the only one making this weird.”

Taylor glares at the phone. “Stay out of this, Bueckers.”

Paige chuckles, completely unfazed. “Gladly. Good luck with your dissection, baby girl.”

She ends the call, leaving me standing there with Taylor fuming.

⸻

I thought that argument would be the end of it. But when Paige’s dad invited me on their family trip to Cabo, I accepted without hesitation.

Taylor was pissed, of course. But something inside me… I needed this break. From her. From the constant accusations. From pretending that Paige wasn’t still my comfort, even if it wasn’t romantic anymore.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

⸻

“Yo, Y/N, you ready for movie night or what?” Drew grins, tugging on my arm as we head to Paige’s room in the vacation house.

“You sure your sister won’t get annoyed with us taking over her bed again?” I tease.

Drew smirks. “Paige loves it. Trust me.”

We settle into the same spots as four years ago, Fast and Furious playing in the background. Drew’s head rests on my stomach as he slowly drifts off, mumbling sleepily, “I love you and Paige. You two belong together.”

Paige glances at me from the other side of the bed, her expression unreadable. But in that moment, I feel it. That pull. That connection we never really lost.

I don’t fight it.

⸻

When I get back to LA, something feels… off.

Taylor’s been acting strange, barely texting back. My gut tells me something’s wrong. So, I do what any girl with trust issues would do — I show up to her apartment unannounced.

And of course, I catch her. With her “best friend,” the same girl she told me not to worry about.

I don’t even feel heartbroken. Just… done.

I leave without saying a word, texting Paige immediately.

“Pack a bag. I need you in LA.”

⸻

Paige arrives the next day, rocking her UConn hoodie and slides like she owns the place. We hit a party that night with my cheer team, and the moment I spot Taylor across the room, her eyes widen in shock.

Paige smirks. “Time to remind her who you really belong to.”

Before I can process it, Paige’s lips are on mine. Slow. Familiar. And the moment our lips part, I turn to Taylor, who’s practically burning holes through me with her stare.

“Oh,” I say with a sarcastic smile. “By the way… I knew you were cheating this whole time. I just wanted to see how long you’d keep pretending.”

The whole party erupts in “OHHHHHS” as Taylor storms out in embarrassment.

Paige? She just pulls me closer, whispering, “Took you long enough to come back to me.”

⸻

That night, Paige and I are back in my dorm, tangled up in my bed like we never lost time.

“I missed this,” I admit, tracing her jaw with my fingertips.

“Me too,” she murmurs. “You were always my girl, Y/N. We just… needed the universe to catch up.”

And finally, it did.

⸻

Two months later, I’m sitting courtside at March Madness, rocking my custom “Bueckers’ Biggest Fan” hoodie, while Drew sits beside me, proudly holding a sign that says, “No I’m Bueckers Biggest Fan.”

Some things are just meant to be.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[madamechrissy]

Fratboy Gojo

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

More headcanons from Took you Like a Shot - these are extra scenes set after chapter 2, but can be read alone- MDNI- explicit - whipped, longing Gojo- phone sexm, masturbation (Satoru and reader) dirty talk, fluffy ass cuteness, Satoru whimpers, lots of feelings -other headcanons here

Fratboy Gojo should be enjoying his trip with his best friends, but it's getting depressing, even on the cruise to the fucking Bahamas, shouldn't he be having the time of his life? His eyes don't even give anyone attention, how could he when he knows you're back home, pregnant- fuck have you changed in the past couple weeks?

Fratboy Gojo decides not to go out with his friends that night and stay in their suite himself, staring at the phone and contemplating for just a moment before he gives in, calling you. 'Hey Gojo' you say softly, sleep in your voice, making him ache. 'Hey sweetheart, were you asleep?' he hears your yawn, smiling like a lovesick idiot. He guesses that's what he is. 'No, just reading' 'ya reading that smut?' you giggle now 'mmhmm'

Fratboy Gojo hears your little sigh, driving him insane with need, just hearing it makes him hard, throbbing under his boxers while he lays sprawled in the giant, fancy suite that feels empty without you. 'Ya miss me brat?' you scoff now. 'no, never - why do you miss me?' Satoru scoffs now 'no, never, so peaceful without you' you glare at the phone, and he can damn near feel it 'I'm kidding' you bite your lip now, shifting in your bed, hearing his husky voice rushing through you. 'I was kidding too, I kind of miss you, just a little' he smirks, a hand leading down his flat abs, slowly, picturing your pretty body in his mind. 'you just miss cumming, hmm?'

Fratboy Gojo glares when you retort - 'think I don't make myself cum?' 'you're a slutty girl, aren't you?' you feel it, the heat clenching in your tummy. 'I'm mad at you, Satoru - leaving me in this state right after you did that... thing with your mouth' he chuckles, thumb brushing over the trail of silvery hair under his belly button, as you slip up your shorts just a bit, brushing yourself over them, whining before you can stop it. 'You liked me drinking that pussy up, hmm?' you're throbbing around nothing, dammit. 'shouldn't you be partying, dancing or whatever? smoking?' 'maybe I just wanna talk to you, maybe I wanna... be back between your thighs, fuck you'd like that, wouldn't you?'

Fratboy Gojo grins when you huff so clearly over the phone. 'Can I get a picture you think?' you hesitate a bit. 'picture of what?' 'titties' You roll your eyes, but he gets an image- moaning when he sees them 'fuck they're so sexy, wanna suck on those nipples - touch them, would you?' you do as he asks, thumbs running over your nipples in circles. 'they hurt' you pout as your back arches, your nipples pressed against the thin top you're wearing, pussy soaking your shorts even worse while Satoru frees his cock, which is already leaking precum against his lower belly button. 'imagine how they'll be dripping milk, hmm? I'm gonna suck it all up' 'Satoru!' he's chuckling just a bit, but it's too late, you're both too far gone

Fratboy Gojo eases his boxers down fully, thick cock so hard it hurts, imagining just that, milk dripping from your puffy nipples. 'what, you wouldn't like it?' you feel yourself heating up then - 'perv' - he laughs softly, but it turns to a whine when his thumb presses his tip. 'are you stroking yourself, Satoru? thinking of me?' he curses internally, when that bratty little voice is crying out. 'you're touching your pussy, wanting my mouth, aren't you?' you nod, knowing he can't see, as the two of you play with yourselves, his eyes close, hearing you then. 'I can hear how wet you are, fuck' 'mnh!'

Fratboy Gojo can't take it, the longing, he can't hold back like he has been, not on the phone, drunk off your voice, the memories. 'I wanna lick it all up, so wet, isn't she?' you're gasping out, while you pump two little fingers in your soppy little hole. 'y-yes, do you want that, me pouring all over your face?' 'god you're a freaky brat, gonna dirty talk better than me!?' you're both whining, him stroking, you pumping. 'I r-read a lot of smut' he's breathless, listening to your moans grow louder and louder, while his cock twitches, he leans down to spit on it, while you drool down your own fingers. 'that journalism degree- ah f-fuck- it's j-just for you to write... smut... fuck!' you can't glare, you're too wet, pulsing around your fingers, whining 'm'close, Satoru, p-please...'

Fratboy Gojo moans as your words wash through him. 'I wish I was there right now, fuck... want my fingers instead, don't you? yours can't hit that spot?' you whine in frustration. 'y-you little... conceited- shouldn't have g-gone...' he exhales, head leaning back on the soft pillows as yours do 'I know, fuck I know... work your clit, it's easier baby, okay?' you do as he suggests, running in circles, engorged clit twitching under your touch. 'm-mad at you...' he gulps now, cock so close to busting. 'm-mad at myself, please just... will you cum for me baby?' Baby, he's calling you baby, and you're close, hearing his breaths, hearing his wet strokes. 'picture me right there' you do then, shattering, cumming so much you soak your hands, while Satoru chases his release from hearing you.

Fratboy Gojo loses it when you whisper 'you cum for me, now, hmm Satoru? be good' 'fuck you for that, mnh! close, close' you're sucking yourself off your fingers. 'I taste yummy' oh god, he's done, busting so much all over his hand now, white ropes endlessly pouring sticky across his hand, as just hearing him makes your cunt pulse in response. 'want a picture, for fap material?' you roll your eyes, shaking your head. 'you're so annoying...' you pause then. 'yeah.'

Fratboy Gojo uses his clean hand, sending it so quickly, and it makes your pussy clench again, pretty cock coated with cum - with some dumb little cat sticker with it's tongue out - 'fuck... your cock is pretty' 'is that a compliment!?' 'psh... no. a fact. jerk' Satoru cleans up, pressing you on speaker then, as you clean up as well, laying back down, putting him on speaker too. 'I'm upset you left, but I don't blame you for having a life... I guess, I'm just... lonely' Satoru pauses now, emotions in his throat after having that release. 'I wish you told me not to go... I could leave early?' you shake your head. 'no, it's okay, I told you, you're sacrificing enough, this wasn't your choice'

Fratboy Gojo feels something just gnawing at him now, what was he doing here? trying to cling to some bachelor life while you're changing everything about yourself for this. 'I should let you get some sleep' you murmur then, and Satoru shuts his blue eyes, snowy lashes fluttering, when he pulls a pillow close. 'wanna fall asleep on the phone?' you pause, tugging your pillow against yourself. 'yeah we can... Satoru why aren't you out?' because all he can think about is you, that's why. 'I didn't feel like it, get some sleep brat, aren't you growing my baby inside you?' His baby. His. The thought makes him crave you so badly it's difficult to stand it. 'your parasyte you said, remember?' he snorts in laughter. 'it still technically is, you're just emotioal about it'

Fratboy Gojo doesn't know when he fell asleep, but he wakes up and you're still on the phone, lightly snoring... and he knows then, he made the wrong fucking decision. When his friends stumble in and bring girls back, heading to their rooms, Satoru shuts his door, so he can listen to you breathe instead, the only good sleep he's gotten since he's been here.

I'll be doing these between chapters as this story will have some time skips- I hope you enjoyyyy <3

Perm tags - @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen

[mcddyperez]

INFECTIOUS ! chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x black!fem¡reader

in which : when chris’s girlfriend appears in videos, the fans always go crazy and immediately turn to social’s and make compilations.

warnings : infectious fluff, kissing and pda, possessive chris, swearing, suggestive dialogue

word count : 1.5k words

y/n layed in her shared bed with her boyfriend, chris, while endlessly watching different videos that popped up on her youtube recommendations.

but, as she scrolled, her eyes immediately drew to a video titled, “chris and y/n being infectiously in love for 6 minutes straight”.

a light giggle came from the girl, alerting her boyfriend who’s face was immersed in whatever was on his phone screen.

“what are you laughing at, ma?” he asked, looking up from his phone before looking at the gorgeous girl in front of him.

y/n sat up in the bed before showing her phone to him, pointing out the video that was under one of their vlogs.

without hesitation, chris clicked on the video before getting comfortable in his bed, pulling y/n close to him as they waited for the video to play.

1. when chris gets possesive !

the first clip played, the video being when the triplets were reacting to fan edits.

as nick scrolled through tiktok for videos, he stopped when an edit of y/n popped up to the song “woo” by rihanna.

the man chuckled before nudging his brothers next to him, grabbing both of their attention. “look, theirs a y/n edit.” nick said before clicking on the video.

as the video played, it showed various clips of y/n from her tiktoks, her youtube videos, and even clips from the triplets channel.

chris looked mesmerized at the video of his girl looking good, but she always looked good in his eyes.

but when he clicked the comments, he didn’t expect such things being said about the girl.

“y/n is soooo fineee”

“her body is so tea”

“give me one chance y/n PLEASEEE 🙏🏽”

“i hope chris knows how to fight 🤺”

chris read each one in disbelief. he knew that many of his fans thirsted for his girlfriend, i mean who wouldn’t, but to see them do it so shamelessly made him laugh.

“looks like you have competition, chris.” matt said as he looked at his triplet look at the thirsty comments.

chris shrugged his shoulders before leaning back in the sofa. “hey, she’s laying in my bed at night so why does it matter?” he said, being all nonchalant.

that was until nick pulled up an even thirstier edit of y/n that was with the song “wet the bed” by chris brown.

the video showcased y/n’s gorgeous face and banging body and the fans were loving it.

“SHE LOOKS SO GOOOD!!”

“forget chris, marry me queen 💍😍”

“oh sorry, i just dropped the keys to my pink mercedes benz, oh I’m sooooo clumsy! 😏”

“we’re not chris girls, we’re y/n’s girls”

chris shook his head before raising his arms to fix his hair. “she’s happy with me, they can fuck off.” he joked around (kind of).

his two brother laughed in his face before going onto the next topic, feeling like they accomplished winning the olympics.

2. chris and y/n during blind, deaf, mute cooking !

there were many cute moments between the couple during this video, considering the fact that they decided to make both matt and y/n blind.

as y/n was breaking eggs in the cake batter while nick was jamming to music in his headphones. the girl had no clue what she was doing as she cracked an egg on the kitchen counter.

though matt and nick were in their own little world fucking up god knows what for the cake, chris was focusing on his girlfriend, noticing immediately that she had accidentally cracked an egg and missed the bowl.

though he couldn’t speak, his infectious laughter could be heard from outside of the tape, confusing both y/n and nick who chris had bumped into.

“what!!!” nick screamed, a doja cat song blasting in his ears.

chris then tapped on the boys shoulder before pointing at his girlfriend who was consistently missing the bowl when cracking her eggs, now having two yolks laying on the counter.

“y/n! y/n! stop! you’re missing the bowl!” nick exclaimed, startling the girl making her accidental drop an egg on the floor.

“why didn’t no one tell me?” y/n questioned, going to feel for the bowl but accidentally touching the yolk on the counter, causing her to jolt back into the wall and gag.

chris, seeing y/n in distress, grabbed some paper towels before walking over to his girl and wiping off her hands.

“thank you, babe.” she thanked, looking around as if she could see her surroundings.

and the video continued with more chaotic mess for the four.

3. y/n meets madison beer !

y/n was a big fan of madison beer since she had her first music video with justin bieber, so when the triplets started getting close with her, chris knew that he wanted his girl to meet her.

so, when the triplets were invited to one of madison’s shows, they brought y/n along (obviously) and the girl was ecstatic to say the least.

she knew every single word to the songs, she participated in the mute trend, and was having a great time.

but, when it came to the end of the show, the girl was anxious. she didn’t know how to act or what to do.

chris stood behind the girl, his arms being wrapped tightly around the girls waist as he pressed gentle kisses all over her neck.

when the brunette finally came to talk to the triplets, the sight of the girl made madison smile. immediately, y/n froze. she didn’t know what to do or what to say. madison knew her fucking name!

“hi, n-nice to meet you!” y/n responded, beating herself up inside from hearing the stutter escape her mouth.

chris left one last kiss on the cheek to the girl before letting her go and joining his brother to the side as matt recorded the special moment unfold.

“i love your outfit, i wish i could pull that off.” madison complimented y/n while admiring her style.

“oh, I’m sure you can pull of anything, you’re stunning!” y/n said back, surprised that her voice wasn’t as shaky as before.

matt recorded the two before turning the camera to a smiling chris who was busy admiring his girlfriend as she met her favorite artist.

he truly loved this girl.

4. chris and y/n being needy !

the next clip was during their most recent car video where chris (and y/n) were sat in the back of the car.

chris was a very touchy person when it came to y/n, and he becomes very needy quickly. so, the entire video, chris’s hands roamed over her body constantly.

he would whisper sweet nothings into her ear like, “you look so good in my clothes right now”, and “just wait until those cameras turn off.”

yeah, he was very horny.

y/n’s prominent giggles and little whines in the backseat got the attention of the two boys in the front, making them groan.

“can you guys stop being rabbits back there?” matt asked in a demanding tone, causing an embarrassed y/n in the backseat. but, even with the warning, chris’s hands didn’t move.

he had continued to tease her with circling her thighs and giving her light kisses on the neck, which he knew she loved from him.

it had gotten to the point that when nick was editing, he had delayed scraping the whole car video as a whole because of the porno that was happening in the back, but he uploaded it nonetheless, giving the fans more chris and y/n crumbs to eat.

5. y/n and chris’s tiktoks !

all of the tiktoks that these two film can take up an entire section of the video. when the two film together, they are extremely silly and kind hearted and everyone loves them.

most of their tiktok videos together can be found of y/n’s account, simply because of the fact that Chris doesn’t post that much on the app, but when he post a video with y/n, it’s usually something that y/n probably wouldn’t want the internet to see.

like, there was one time where chris posted a video of himself lip syncing to a song and in the background you can see y/n sleeping. her hair was messed up, she had on a comfortable ugly face on, and she was deep in slumber.

but, no matter what, the two will always be comfortable going to tiktok and posting their silly little videos together.

and even though chris will pretend that he doesn’t like it, deep down he secretly enjoys doing it to make his girl happy.

“cutest couple ever!!”

“the way chris looks at her, IM SO SINGLE!! 😞”

“chris got some moves fr, he ate that up!!”

——

after the last tiktok, the video ended, leaving the two smiling at each other. “you’re so protective, it’s hot.” y/n said, smirking at her boyfriend before planting a kiss on his lips.

“yeah, but you look too good for me to not be protective.” chris justified, running his cold fingers down his girlfriend’s waist.

y/n chuckled while shaking her head before chris leaned in for a kiss. “i love you.” he mumbled once he pulled away, burying his face into the girls neck.

“i love you too, baby.” y/n said, tracing chris’s jawline as they layed there in each others presence.

maybe they were infectiously in love.

[fireinmoonshot]

drabble dump 1 | joaquín torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: Three small drabbles inspired by your headcanons (and one of mine): Joaquín giving you flowers, crying during movies and following his fans online. Warnings: I don't think there are any. Word Count: 691 A/N: I'm feeling super tired tonight so I didn't have the energy to focus on a larger fic, so I decided to write a couple of smaller drabbles inspired by some of the headcanons you guys left on that post I made the other day as well as one of my own. I will probably end up doing a few posts like this since they're quite fun. They're really just smaller drabbles that don't necessarily need to be longer 1k+ fics, so I hope you guys find them fun!

Giving you flowers.

The first time Joaquin ever met you, he brought you flowers. He had no idea what your favourite type of flowers were or if you even liked flowers. But he wanted to make a good impression on you on your first date and flowers had seemed the way to go.

He’d been raised well by his parents. His mother had always taught him to be a gentleman and he’d grown up hearing stories from his father all about how he won over his mother with flowers and gifts and many, many dates. 

Joaquin intended to do the same thing to you. He liked you from the very moment he met you, and so he made a deal with himself – every date, he would bring you a bouquet of flowers that was different from the last. He wouldn’t repeat anything and he would get more and more creative with each bouquet. 

Because if Joaquin was going to win you over like his father won over his mother, he was going to put in as much effort as it took. He was certain that you were the one.

~~

Reading comments about himself online.

Joaquin laughed, looking down at his phone screen. He was silent for a moment and then he laughed again. You looked at him, sitting in bed beside him. Your book was open in front of you but you couldn’t help but want to know what was so funny.

“What are you looking at?” You asked.

He looked over at you and then shuffled a little closer towards you in bed, angling his phone screen to you so you could look at it. “I’m just reading comments about Falcon,” he explained. “Look at this one – the old Falcon has nothing on the new guy. Did you see the way he kicked that guy right out of the air in one shot? That’s about me!” 

You looked at your boyfriend for a moment and then laughed. “How many of these fan accounts do you follow, baby? Wait – is that an edit of you? Where did they even get that footage? I didn’t think you posted anything on social media.”

Joaquin’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t… but I do have a fan account… for myself… and sometimes I post videos on there and call them ‘never before seen content’ and the fans really love them. As long as they don’t put two and two together and realise I’m the one posting them…” 

~~

Sobbing while he watches a movie.

Ever since you met Joaquin you knew that deep down, the man was a softie at heart. If you cried, odds were he was going to start crying as well. If you were happy, he was happy too. Your emotions always rubbed off on him. But there was one thing about him that you never expected: the fact that he cries like a baby in movies that aren’t even that sad.

“Baby,” you glanced over at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Are you crying?”

He sniffed, wiping his cheeks. “No.”

You leant a little closer to him and smiled to yourself as he attempted to hide his face from you. But you were too quick – you could see the tears falling down his cheeks. 

“Baby.”

Joaquin looked at you, his sad puppy dog eyes almost making you throw your arms around him and pull him into a hug to make him feel better. The man always did a good job at throwing you off with puppy dog eyes, but it was worse when they were full of tears.

“I thought it was going to be a happy ending,” he muttered. “But they didn’t even get to have a proper life together in the end because of what happened to her! It’s so sad.”

Tears continued falling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but shuffle a little closer to him to wrap an arm around his back as he sobbed into his hands. You rubbed his back gently, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“It’s just a movie, baby. It’s okay. It’s not real.”

Joaquin let out another sob. “But it felt so real”

[fivestaralien]

just a little kiss pt. 2

-> chan x fem chubby!reader

warnings+”: MDNI!!!, 18+ , soft dom chan, phone sex, app controlled vibrator, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial, CHAN , lmk if I missed anything! word count: 1665 notes ִֶָ ࣪˖ ummmmm, okay so thank you @coupsipupsi for requesting a part 2! I highly recommend reading part one to understand what is going on. I wasn't going to originally do a part 2 but I have been in a writing slump and so I thought why not go out of my comfort zone to get out of it. It kinda worked. PLS reblog and comment!! it helps me the most. I really would love to know what yall think! I don't write smut that often so I am a little rusty. please be safe and be gentle with yourselves<3

// part 1

Unfortunately, ‘tonight’ never ended up happening. Chan’s company decided to book a surprise show for a festival and they had to leave that night. He texted you about it the second he found out. 

 channie<3: I’m so sorry baby. I swear I will make it up to you

 You were a little bit bummed you wouldn’t be getting some mind numbing dick like promised but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun. 

 you: make up for what? i’ll be just fine taking care of myself.

 channie<3: Don’t start. 

 channie<3: Just because I will be out of the country doesn’t mean you can start acting like a brat.

 You can see him rolling his eyes with a smirk as you send your next message. 

 you: i think you like it though

 channie<3: Just be good while I’m gone and don’t even think about using that vibrator you thought you hid from me. I’ll know.

 Heat rushes up your neck to your face at his confession. Damn, you thought you had a good spot.

 you: how did you find it???

 channie<3: Baby, it was behind your tampons. I wouldn’t exactly call that a good hiding spot. 

 Of course Chan would find it before you could surprise him with it. Plus, there’s no way he would actually know you were using it or not, right?

 you: hopefully I won’t have to replace you with it :(

 channie<3: We’ll get back to that later. 

 channie<3: I have to go now. I love you and remember to take your meds please.

 you: I will. I love you. have fun and be safe!! 

 You spend the rest of the night eating dinner, cleaning up the kitchen and then watching t.v. Once it is deep into the night, you decide it’s time to try and get some sleep. Sadly, sleep was the last thing on your mind. Your body couldn’t get comfortable and you knew the reason. 

 It’s been a while since Chan has had to leave like this, so your mind wasn’t prepared for the sudden lack of his presence by your side. The next morning came and went and you were right back in bed, scrolling through your phone. Your mind wanders back to your conversation with Chan yesterday, your pussy suddenly pulsing at the thought of Chan using your new vibrator on you. 

 Your fingers could only do so much, so you quickly lean over and grab the toy from your drawer. As you take off your underwear and shorts, you mentally pat yourself on the back for charging it earlier in the day. The second the pulsing vibrations hit your aching clit, you arch your back, letting out a heady moan. 

 You widen your legs and push the vibrator harder, adding to the addicting pleasure. Your hips have a mind of their own as they push down against the mattress. Images of Chan holding you down by your love handles as he rocks into you flashes behind your closed eyes, and you don’t hold back the cry for him that slips past your lips. 

 Suddenly the vibrator turns off, leaving you a confused, panting mess without your permission. You hold down the power button and thankfully it turns on. Dragging it down to gather some wetness, you bring your free hand up to twist and pull at your nipples. Just as you are about to press it back against your clit, it turns off again. 

 “What the fuck?”

 You know that you charged it, so maybe it was malfunctioning? Once again it comes back to life after holding down the button so you waste no time and put it against your throbbing pussy. Moans routinely leave your lips as you circle your clit and up the speed, the pleasure slowly becoming too much. 

  The only thing that would really send you over the edge was Chan being here. Gifting you sensations no one had ever made you feel before. The toy stops abruptly for the third time and right before you cry out, your phone starts ringing. Perfect timing. You almost laugh as you see Chan’s contact and you contemplate not answering. 

 “Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s nearly 2am where you are.” You try not to sound out of breath but you weren’t doing that well. 

 “Didn’t I tell you not to use that vibrator?” 

 Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. Did he set up some secret cameras or something? How the fuck? 

 “I haven’t used it.” 

 “Mmh, you sure about that?” Chan’s words are coated with lust, making you squeeze your legs together. Trying to alleviate the pain of your stolen orgasm. “I was looking at the manual inside the box and saw that there’s an app with it for partners. I can get a notification when you use the vibrator and then control it from my phone.  

 You roll your eyes so hard, “ God, you would find a way to ruin my fun even when you’re away.” 

 Chan’s laugh lightens up your mood a little bit. The sound reminds you how much you miss him even though it’s only been a couple of days. 

 “Have you cum yet?”

 “No, but I was close. You have horrible timing.” Rustling can be heard from his side of the phone so you ask if everything is okay. 

 “Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed to move my laptop. And before you start, I had to fix a backtrack before the morning, so I didn’t really have a choice but to stay up late.” 

 You hum in reply, momentarily forgetting why he called in the first place, now worried about his lack of sleep before a big show. 

 “You should get some sleep, love.” 

 Chan scoffs, “ So you can go back to masterbating without me? No shot. Now lay back and get comfortable.” 

 Arguing with him was the last thing on your mind as you go back to how you were laid out before. The vibrator sits next to your thigh, just begging to be used. You let out a sigh, picking it up and putting it between your legs. Not turning it on, but softly running the tip of it between your wet folds, slowly trying to work yourself up again. Chan has yet to say anything else and the silence from his end was agonizing. 

 “Channie, please,” you plead breathlessly, “can I turn it on?”

 “Sure.” 

 Your body sings at the approval. The vibrations stop almost as fast as they start and Chan chuckles at your dramatic whining. You turn it on again just for him to repeat his previous action, 

 “Chan! Stop teasing!” 

 “You’re one to talk baby girl. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled at the shoot.” You feel yourself getting wetter at his stern tone, always loving how it deepens when lightly scolding you. “Put it against yourself and don't move it.”

 After a few seconds your back arches, not expecting the vibrations to start off this high. Your moans grow louder as the pleasure crawls its way up your body. Chan lets out a groan of his own and you can faintly hear him stroking himself. 

 Only the sounds of your moans and Chan's erratic breath can be heard. Your brain is no longer able to form words as your orgasm builds rapidly. Chan catches the way your breath hitches and reaches to his phone, clicking the off button. He bites his bottom lip to hold a laugh as you whine for him to turn it back on. 

 “Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” You beg. Chan gathers the precum leaking down his cock, dragging his fist up and down to the desperation in your soft voice. 

 “You didn’t seem sorry when you were on your knees, kissing my stomach at my workplace.” 

 “That’s unfair. How else was I supposed to –” You’re cut off by the vibrator turning on, your orgasm right on the edge already after being denied so many times. “Please let me cum Chan. I’m sorry for teasing you.” You cry, pressing the toy hard against your clit, intensifying the pleasure. 

 Chan is right there with you as he squeezes the base of his cock. He can't stop the way his hips roll up, fucking himself into his hand, listening to your beautiful moans. 

 “Cum with me baby.” 

 His permission goes straight to your core, white hot pleasure shooting down to your toes and up to melt your brain. Your vision blurs as you call out to Chan, the sound of his name coming from your lips being his tipping point. He presses his head back against his pillow, squeezing his tip to prolong his orgasm as long as possible. Chan lays his arm across his eyes as his cum landed on his lower stomach. 

 “Fuck, baby.” He breathes out. You both take a few seconds to compose yourselves before Chan speaks up again, “ How was that? Was that okay?” 

 You huff out a laugh, “Okay? That surpassed okay by miles. I can’t believe we haven’t thought of doing that yet.”

 “At least we know now.” 

 Sleep is evident in Chan's voice so you quietly clean yourself up and put away the vibrator after cleaning it. You put your pajamas back on and lay down on your stomach, putting your phone by your head as you rest your head on your folded arms. Chan’s steady breathing starts to lull you to sleep. 

 “Love, go clean up before you pass out.” 

 You hear him get up and a few minutes later you hear the bed sheets rustling, so you assume he is now back in bed. 

 “Will you stay on the phone? I haven’t been able to sleep without you.” Chan admits softly, your heart fluttering. 

 “Of course.” 

 You stay on the phone until Chan is deeply asleep and not long after you find yourself drifting off, your heart feeling very full.

//

perm skz taglist: @velvetmoonlght , @amararosesblog

main masterlist , skz masterlist

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

Can I request for frat jaehyun doing this to sweets to fluster her after she was being petty with him over a small little disagreement hehe!

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSM56UL15/

Yessss! You're really getting the vibes!!!

(cw: profanity)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ the booktok door trend ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Sometimes your boyfriend made it so obvious that he was an only child. There were just habits and queues he didn't pick up on, that people with siblings or basic manners could have picked up on. He was horrible at compromising, he didn't like to share, and it wasn't always the best attitude to be around, especially when you weren't in the right mood.

He was sitting at his desk, looking more like a stereotypical fratboy than you'd ever seen him look before. He had a t-shirt on with the sleeves cut off and cut open practically down to his waist, a pair of gym shorts, and a backwards baseball cap on his head. You greeted each other with an exchange of pecks on your cheeks before you settled yourself onto his bed.

Time passed by in a comfortable silence while fratboy!Jaehyun studied and you scrolled through your phone. You groaned when you got the 10% of battery left notification and dug through your backpack to look for the charger you usually kept there, except, it wasn't there. It wasn't in the big pocket, not in the small pocket, not under your notebooks, how annoying. "Baby, can I borrow your charger please?" You ask with a tired sigh.

He looks up from his notes, "I'm sorry, Sweets I'm using it right now. I only have the one."

"But you're studying right now, you're not even on your phone. My phone is about to die and Kira is texting me about the guy she likes," you try to reason.

"My battery is pretty low too," Jaehyun replies.

You sigh, standing from the bed to grab his phone to check the battery for yourself, "really, Jae? 58% is low? Just let me use it for like 10 minutes please."

"If it were a grade, it would be an failing grade. You should bring your own charger, that way we don't have to fight over the one?"

You roll your eyes, too grumpy to try to correct his bratty selfishness today, "whatever."

You grab your stuff while grumbling to yourself. Then he has the audacity to ask, "Sweetheart, where are you going?"

You don't even turn around as you answer, "my charger is in my dorm, while I walk home I'd like to know that I can make an emergency call if needed and I can't do that with a phone that's dead. I have to go now since you don't want to share. I'll talk to you later."

You barely get to the door and pull it open when you feel his hand on your wrist turning you around to face him. He presses you against the wall gently, while his hand come up to pull the cap from his head. You watch as the hat spins between his hands and promptly fits back over his head before one of his hands comes to land right beside your head.

He's looking down at you now, leaning into your personal space with just a few inches between the two of your faces. Your breath catches in your throat while your face heats. His eyes shine with a glimmer of smug victory at your reaction. His voice is a low, husky whisper, "you're not going anywhere."

"Jaehyun-," you go to contest, but he presses a single finger against your lips.

"I read some of that book you left here yesterday. You highlighted a scene a lot like this one, do you like it?"

Realization dawns in your eyes, "did you not share your charger because you wanted to try this on me?"

Jaehyun hides his embarrassment with a rumbly chuckle, "and so what if I did?"

You lean up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "well, I'd have preferred you not be an annoying little shit leading up to it, but it was hot."

"Yeah?" He asks with a smirk, "is it something I should do more often?"

You open your mouth to answer, but are once again interrupted by someone else. "Get off my goddess on earth, you horny former fuckboy devil. Here, Sweetheart, I borrowed your charger yesterday without asking and I got you some snacks as an apology," Haechan tells you, the difference in his tone when he talks to Jaehyun then you makes you laugh.

"Thank you, I thought I was going crazy just now," you smile sweetly at Haechan.

"You ruin everything," Jaehyun harshly whispers to Haechan so you won't hear him.

"I do it on purpose, you stupid sack of shit," Haechan bites back.

You roll your eyes as you plug your phone in. It's a good thing that Jaehyun is getting the full sibling experience here. It'll humble him.

[marigold-hills]

@into-the-jeggyverse | prompt: roar | words: 759

NSFW minors do not interact please

In the lazy quiet of the morning, the chime of the incoming text message is like a sudden roar of a deadly, wild animal.

James should know just by that - maybe a lion’s roar is, after all, a warning to the unsuspecting gazelle. A head start, a countdown to being devoured.

James wouldn't put himself in the position of prey, but Regulus didn’t ask him, made the decision for him, unilaterally decided.

Barty: did Potter fall for it then?

Barty: if I owe you that 50 quid I hope he at least did a good job

Barty: if not come by after, you know no one can fuck you like I do anyway

(The night before their fingers were intertwined, foreheads together, lips only apart enough to give space for words to form: Jamie, and please and so good, just like that, so good for me. Then later: again, again, again, and next time I’ll take my time with you.)

They’re phones are identical. James didn’t notice until he picked up what he thought was his. Regulus must not have noticed when he took the wrong one with him to the kitchen.

(Let me make you coffee, he said, so sweetly, so unlike the usual cold shoulder he would give in response to James’ advances. You deserve it after last night. And this morning. Keep it up and I’ll make you coffee every day.)

(It’s a deal, James responded and thought of all the dusks and dawns ahead.)

“One coffee, sugar and milk, because you’re a heaven,” Regulus comes back into the bedroom, hair still bed-mused and dressed still only in James’ T-shirt. Nothing different than he was when he left. There’s still that spread of pink across the delicate arch of his cheekbones.

(Last night James kissed him right there, right over the little freckle that sits under his left eye.)

“You took the wrong phone,” James tells him. Surprised himself when his voice sounds the way it always does. Like nothing had changed.

Regulus laughs at himself and switches them, takes his phone from James’ hand and then sits in his lap, legs on each side of James’ thighs.

(Last night he rode him like this, perfectly tight and perfectly eager, eyes bright and pleading. Fuck me, fuck into me, he begged, breathy and lovely, please, I need you. Need you Jamie.)

“Sorry. I accidentally read your text,” James tells him. The space between Regulus’ waist where his hand should be and the bed where his hand is feels like magnets repelling each other.

“Barely a night together and you're already going through my phone?” Regulus teases. “If I knew you’d be so jealous—”

He stops because he’s read the texts. That lovely pinkness disappears. Regulus is always pale, but not this pale.

“Jamie…”

“You fucked me for £50?”

“No, wait— not like that, wait.”

James doesn’t push him off, but the feeling of Regulus’ skin on his own becomes unbearable.

(Last night, he kissed the delicate spaces of the inside of Regulus’ thighs, each and every beauty spot and line and perfection. The scar he got on his knee as a child, the one by his hipbone from a drunken stumble.)

James doesn’t have it in him to put his hands on Regulus and lift him up. He doesn’t think he’d let go, if he did, and there’s something in him that won’t stoop to begging. He wishes he found it the night before. “Can you get off me please.”

Regulus, at least, gives him that. James gets up from the bed (rumpled sheets, a tear where Regulus bit into the night before to muffle his cries as James had him on his hands and knees) and puts on his trousers.

His wallet is in the back pocket. He carries cash with him because you never know - something could go wrong, someone could need help, someone, apparently, could count up how much James’ heart is worth.

He puts £50 on the bedside table.

“Jamie please, just— I’m so sorry, I didn’t, that’s not—”

He thinks to ask why Regulus is crying, why there are tears in those beautiful eyes of his, but they look the same as the ones he coaxed out the night before (just one more time for me, you can do it, show me again how you look when you come).

In the lazy quiet of the morning, the starting of James’ car engine sounds like the last roar of an animal dying, calling out to leave one last mark on the world.

***** I don’t know why I wrote this. Please don’t hate me.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick and his fwb girl who is just a bit crazy for him. Hear me out. +18 mdni

Master list

He was home from deployment for a few weeks, and when he's home, he normally spends a good chunk of his time between your legs. He comes back to you, and you feed him well, cook his favorites, and right after his dick is down your throat or inside of you.

The way he presses you into the bed and fucks you is life changing. He grips your hair between his fingers, and the other hand is anchored to your waist. Each thrust of his hips is angled so that the softest parts of your insides are hit each time. The hard and deep thrusts knock the air from your lungs. Desperate gasps, and cute little squeals are a constant amongst the pure filth that is coming from him.

"Fuck I've missed you" He says and leans his body as close as possible as he can into you. He groans and places a foot up on the bed for a better angle and yanks on your hair to arch your body the way he wants.

Your body tenses at the angle and the feeling, eyes rolling back, drool dripping down your chin. "Ky-" you can barely form words. The pleasure is too much for you, and the sounds of his hips slamming into your ass are deafening. "I can't -" a moan chokes you off, and you make the mistake of trying to crawl away.

His grip only tightens on you, and he yanks you back into him. "D- don't run, baby. Don't try to take what's mine away from me."

And boy, does that do something for you, and his words shake you to your core. You're coming hard, and the knot that had been in your stomach finally snaps apart. "I'm yours, Ky. I'm yours!" You shout, and you're trembling from the orgasm that literally snuck up on you.

"Fuck" He grunts and the wetness from your pussy only makes it so that he can fuck you faster. His movements are a bit sloppy and rougher. He's close. As another orgasm approaches you, you can faintly hear him babbling. "Mine. Mine. Mine." He repeats with each thrust. He shoved you forward and pressed you face down into the pillow, he gives three more thrusts and stills. His moan seems to be a bit of a whine because your body clenched up after spiraling into another orgasm. Your own teeth chatter from the intensity, and you feel dazed. You feel him twitch and throb inside of you as he cums inside of you, he's panting and trying to catch his breath.

"Fuck." He exhales.

The next week, Kyle doesn't come by as often, and you're a bit worried. You know he isn't deployed yet. He's still posting on Instagram stories about his day with the one friend who has the mohawk. They've been hanging out, bar hopping, and you've been dutifully just waiting for him. Your messages go on read or not answered, and for some reason, that irritates you. Deep down, you know he and you aren't 'official' or 'together', but you do couple things together. You talk daily, have dinner together, date nights, and you share the most sweetest pillow talks. So when you see just a glimpse of some other girl in his Insta story, you feel like you might just crash out. (And your friends, who never approved of the guy since he won't claim you egg you on)

So that's how you find yourself outside of Kyle's apartment. He rooms with the mohawk guy, and you distantly remember his name being Dawn or some shit. You knock on the front door, and Kyle answers. He looks a bit confused.

"Babe what-" He goes to start

"Who the fuck is this?" You show him your phone and it's the profile of the girl from the insta story. "Is she why you haven't been around?"

"Wait, how did you -" He looks like a deer in headlights, he stumbles over his words, "Please don't act crazy about this." He steps into the hallway with you and closes the door.

"Don't piss me off, Kyle Garrick! You can't just damn near rip of my frontal and tell me I'm yours and then ask me to not be crazy!" You're close to really snapping.

Kyle knows you have a point... but if he feels like if he says anything about you not being together, he may just not get out of this mess unscathed. He thinks quickly on his feet, and he prays that Soap goes along with it, "That's Johnny's girl."

You squint your eyes at him, seemingly mollified by his answer. Just a bit, though, you look him up and down and nod your head once. "Don't embarrass me, Kyle." You whisper and give him a hug.

He finds it a bit odd, that choice of words. But he's gonna do his best to not tip off his crazy fuck buddy.

Kyle would be the one to end up with a crash out. No real reason why this exist lol, just woke up with the idea.

[puppppppppy]

ive made myself more wet and pathetic

[tomhiddlestongf]

god I am acting bleak on main tonight

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

some of the attractive things that the blue lock men do. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[mystellenia]

christmas mirror sex with vi ୨ৎ

summary: you look a little too good in your christmas pajamas, and vi simply can't control herself.

content: answer to this req!! dom!vi, sub!r, desperate!vi, strap (r!rec), makeout and through-the-chonies rubbing just for a little bit, dirty talk i guueeesssss, rough!vi, mean!vi, vi's thrusts are like a fucking JACKHAMMER like paralyzingly fast (is paralyzingly a word (did i just make that up (call me an entrepreneur))).

notes: this is pretty filthy guys. merry christmas my kittens eat well. OOH OOH ALSO GUYS. yk when cait and vi fucked and cait was like "while you were gone... i- i saw someone..." and vi is like "i dont fucking care."? yeah thats what the line later on thats in red is giving. muehehehehehhehe. and i double posted too i’m such an active queen. read soft christmas morning with vi thru the link ;)

(wc 1.2k)

your head slammed against the plush of the mattress as vi roughly dropped you on the bed. 

just twenty minutes prior, you were just standing in the kitchen brewing two cups of tea, one for yourself and one for her. the two of you were in your own version of matching christmas pajamas: the pants of the set were sitting low on vi’s hips, her toned v-line visible with a taunting red happy trail peeking out from under a plain wifebeater. the long-sleeved, buttoned shirt of the set loosely draped across your body, the top few buttons undone and showing your upper chest, and the lower hem just barely covering the fat of your ass, clad in a pair of white, cheeky underwear covered in little red and pink hearts. 

vi was splayed across the couch with her phone dangling in her hand, her eyes unabashedly trained on your ass while you moved in the kitchen. just looking at your bare legs in the warm light of the kitchen was enough to get her going, and once you turned around with a mug of tea in each hand and approached her, nipples erect and poking through the fabric of your pajama shirt, she knew the two of you were going end up in the bedroom in the next fifteen minutes. 

“here, baby,” you said, carefully setting her mug of jasmine tea on the side table next to the couch. “let it cool a bit—it's really hot.” 

“is it, now?” vi mockingly mumbled, not caring how obvious her intentions were, her gaze lowered to your thighs. “c’mere,” she says, hooking one hand around your waist and the other under your ass cheek to pull you onto her lap. 

“jesus, i have piping hot tea in my hand, violet.” you rush to carefully place your mug of tea next to where you set hers on the wood side table. your voice wavers a bit when vi’s lips suction to your neck, suckling on the skin and leaving wet patches as her mouth moves. 

her kisses trail up the side of your neck to your jaw, disconnecting right when she gets to the corner of your mouth. your breath has already begun shuddering from her sudden teasing, and you pant into her parted lips. 

“but, i just made... but the tea,” you squeak out, trying to stop her from devouring you, because you know once she starts, you won’t be able to say anything but yes and please. 

her head tilts to the side, lips brushing over yours. with a scoff, she says, “i could not care any fucking less about the tea,” and then pulls you by the back of your neck to close the small gap between you, immediately pulling moans from your chest.

a particularly sharp thrust from vi snaps you back to the present. you lay on your back on the edge of the bed, your head dangling off and facing a full-length mirror in front of you.  

through your upside-down view, you watch her lean figure snap forward at a diabolical pace through the mirror. her wifebeater was discarded, her bared chest making your clit throb as she pistoned into you with a long, red strap. with every jolt of her hips, her small breasts bounced and hypnotized you in the mirror’s reflection. 

if your vision wasn't getting blurry from the stimulation and the blood rushing to your head from your inverted position, you’d try telling her how salivating she looked. you give up the thought of even trying because the idea of forming words dissolves just as quickly as it came about, pleas and begs the only coherent words your brain can make. 

vi had the stamina of a seasoned race horse, so while you had already cum twice, she was steadily building up to her first orgasm and had barely broken a sweat. out on the couch, she had unbuttoned all of your shirt’s buttons except for two at the bottom to expose your boobs, her mouth latching onto them immediately while her fingers rubbed your swollen clit. your shirt was still unbuttoned, and your free boobs bounced with every one of vi’s devilish thrusts. 

“jesus christ- can't believe i hadn’t fucked you like this yet,” she ekes out. “i love this pussy so damn.. so damn much...” her voice trails off with a long grunt. 

that familiar, hot swirling begins in your body, your legs softly twitching on either side of vi’s hips.  

“vi, please- please don’t stop,” you whisper, unable to remember how to speak at a louder volume. 

“oh, what was that?” she evilly taunts. “did you say something? i’m gonna need you to speak up, mama.” 

you whine in frustration. in between cries, you mumble, “please, don’t stop, please. keep going, keep going, don’t move.” tears fall from your eyes and up your face from gravity being flipped, salted drops disappearing into your hairline and down your hair that hung to the floor. 

your strained begging just eggs her on more, her thrusts somehow picking up speed even more and further bruising your already abused cervix.  

you wonder how at such a relentless pace, she has remained nearly silent, but before the thought can develop, you’re cumming hard around her cock, your mouth open in a silent scream. vi grins at your helplessness and continues fucking you through it, only slowing down once you begin nonsensically babbling. your dumbification pushes her to her climax, too, and she fucks the both of you through your orgasms. 

after a minute or so, once the two of you have come down from your highs, she grabs a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head to lift your ragdoll-like head up to face her. 

“you think you got another one for me in that hollow skull?” she teases, slightly shaking your head side-to-side by her grip on your hair. her smile is evident in her eyes, knowing you couldn’t give her another one even if you wanted to. 

all you can do is pant words out incoherently and shake your head, your eyes nearly crossed from the sheer strength of your orgasm.  

pulling your body fully onto the bed by your thighs, she sets your head onto a pillow, pulling out and removing the strap from her hips to get a warm washcloth to clean up the mess you’ve made in between your legs.  

she walks around the bed to where your head rests on a pillow and smooths the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat out of your face.  

“you did good for me, baby, i’m proud of you. i know i was rough.” leaning down, she drops a kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling at how you still haven’t seemed to get a grasp on your surroundings. “merry christmas, mama.” 

merry quismos chat. make sure to wish all your favorite skibids a merry gyattmas (i’m gonna throw up in my mouth i’m cringing)

[kurooh]

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.��

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

[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 ;)

[mytherapyisreading14]

Drunk Confessions

Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)

Word Count: 4,6k

Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3

Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.

It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.

How are you?

I have the worst headache after last night

It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?

Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this

You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.

Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.

He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.

Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.

You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.

You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.

The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.

"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.

You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, you really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?

"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.

“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.

Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.

“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.

“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.

After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.

You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.

-

The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.

“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.

-

The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.

As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.

The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.

"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.

"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."

You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.

"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ​​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.

He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.

The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.

As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.

"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.

"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.

"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.

"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.

He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.

"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."

Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.

He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.

"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.

You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.

You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.

However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.

Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.

He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”

“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.

It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.

“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.

“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.

“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.

A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.

“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.

His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.

When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”

His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.

He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.

You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”

“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.

He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.

His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.

One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”

You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.

“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”