#he’s so freaking handsome what the hell

[httpiastri]

THE JAWLINE THE LONGER STANDS OF HAIR ON THE NAPE OF HIS NECK 😩😩😩 HIS BUILT THE SHOULDERS THE BICEPS HIS CHEST HIS ROSY CHEEKS….

But the main sight…

HIS HANDS 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯 the veins are showing 😭😭😭😭

this is too much for me, i can’t-

[spencerreidenjoyer]

addicted to you | spencer reid x reader

Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.

part 1 | part 2 - insatiable

wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 

Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 

While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.

Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.

With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 

“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 

“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”

You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”

Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”

“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 

Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”

“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”

Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”

His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”

You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 

Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 

You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 

He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 

This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 

“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”

Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 

Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 

Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 

“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”

“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”

Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”

“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 

You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.

So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 

Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 

“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”

He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.

“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”

“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”

He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.

Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 

“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.

“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”

Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”

You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”

You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 

He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”

“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”

“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 

“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”

Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 

“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”

Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 

“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”

“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”

Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”

“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”

Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 

His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 

Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”

“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 

Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”

“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”

“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 

You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 

You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”

“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 

Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”

That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.

Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 

You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 

You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 

In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 

“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”

“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 

He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 

Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”

Your eyes widen. “Now?”

“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”

Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 

“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 

“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.

“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”

“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.

“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.

“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 

“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 

His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 

“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 

Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.

His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.

It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.

Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”

“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.

“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”

“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”

Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 

“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 

“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”

“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.

You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”

“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 

Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”

Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”

“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”

You grin. “You’re the best!”

Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 

So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 

Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.

“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.

“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–

“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”

“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 

“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”

“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”

You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”

“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 

“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”

Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”

“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.

Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 

“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 

“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.

Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”

Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”

His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”

He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 

With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 

“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”

Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”

“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”

Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.

“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.

You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.

You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 

He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 

Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”

“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”

“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 

While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”

Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”

“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”

You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 

Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 

“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”

His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”

You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”

Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 

[mv1simp]

Slow Down♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)

I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)

You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king

Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an immature twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.

That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.

And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.

The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!

But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.

By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.

You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.

You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-

Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.

You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glossed lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.

But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans against you as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues.

Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.

Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.

Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.

Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.

And that was when shit hit the fan.

No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter had already banned any links of the video and both your PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.

When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?

He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?

He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…

Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.

Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.

Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-

You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.

—————————————————————————

A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx

[seafarersdream]

The Art of Braiding (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the harsh, unfamiliar North, Y/N Tully struggles to understand the strange customs that surround her. One of them, however, her new husband Cregan Stark knows all too well—and he’s not above using it to his advantage. The Wolf of the North, as it turns out, has a cheeky side.

*Inspired by the braiding traditions of the Vikings

TW // Strong language and profanities, possessiveness, non-consensual restraint.

“Bloody wind,” Y/N muttered under her breath, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders as another frigid gust swept through Winterfell’s courtyard. The North had its own bite, and it wasn’t just the cold. It was in everything—the stone walls, the silence, and even the people.

Especially the people.

Especially Cregan Stark.

Her husband.

That cold bastard. Honorable, sure, but colder than the winds battering against her face.

Y/N blew a strand of hair from her eyes, resisting the urge to curse her luck again. The riverlands were nothing like this. In Riverrun, there was warmth. Rivers that didn’t freeze over in the middle of freaking summer. Men who smiled, told bawdy jokes, laughed loud enough for the gods to hear. Here, everything was different. Even the laughter, when it happened at all, felt muted by the heavy weight of the Northern sky.

But this was her life now. A wife of the North. Lady Stark. By the gods, it was still strange to hear it. She knew the match had been made for peace and alliances—marriage between a Tully and a Stark was good for the realm, or so her father had said. But no one had prepared her for the rest of it. The weather. The silences.

And Cregan himself.

He was unlike any man she had known. Rivermen were warm, boisterous. Cregan was the opposite. He was distant, cold at times, the weight of Winterfell and the North resting on his broad shoulders. But he was fair, she’d give him that. And gods be damned if he wasn’t handsome. He had that Stark look, all strong jaw and piercing eyes. If only he’d smile a little more, maybe she’d feel less like she was wed to a block of ice.

Not that he wasn’t good to her. No, Cregan was kind in his way. Gentle in the nights they shared, even if he was quieter than she liked. He was a man of few words, unlike the men of her home, who’d fill the halls with stories and laughter. Still, he made sure she had everything she needed. He listened, even when he didn’t have much to say.

But gods, she missed warmth.

The sound of footsteps crunching in the snow caught her attention, and she glanced up to see him approaching. Cregan. He walked like he owned the place—because he did, of course—but it was more than that. There was a confidence in him, a certainty in his steps. He didn’t need to announce himself. The wind, the snow, the very stones of Winterfell seemed to bend to his will.

He came up beside her, his breath clouding the cold air. “Still not used to it?” His voice was a low rumble, almost lost to the wind.

Y/N snorted, rubbing her hands together. “Used to it? It’s like a gods-damned frozen hell up here.”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You’ll learn. In time.”

She shot him a look. “And when exactly will that be? Because I’ve been waiting for weeks, Cregan, and I’m about ready to march back to the riverlands and throw myself into the water. Ice be damned.”

His brows arched just slightly, amusement flickering in his gray eyes. “The riverlands? You wouldn’t last a day without the North, now.”

Y/N scoffed, turning to him fully. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Stark. I was born by water, not ice. I think I’d manage just fine.”

He said nothing, but the smirk returned. Silence fell between them again, but this time it was… different. More comfortable, somehow. She studied him, wondering what was going on in that head of his. He always seemed to have something weighing on him, some unspoken burden of being a leader at such a young age.

Before she could press further, he stepped closer, reaching out. Her breath caught, not because of the cold this time, but because of the unexpected closeness. His hand brushed against her hair, fingers moving with surprising gentleness.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hold still,” he murmured, focused on her hair. His fingers deftly gathered strands, working them with a skill that surprised her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, confused, but she stayed quiet, feeling the tug and pull as he braided her hair. Her pulse quickened as his fingers brushed against her skin, the sensation at odds with the chill around them. There was an intimacy in the act, in the silence that hung between them. And yet, it was just a braid.

Wasn’t it?

“There,” he said after a moment, stepping back. She reached up instinctively, fingers touching the braid he’d woven. It felt tight, but not uncomfortably so. She had no idea what to make of it. “What… is this?”

Cregan shrugged, that infuriating smirk still lingering on his lips. “Just a braid.”

“Just a braid,” she echoed, unconvinced.

His eyes flickered, something unreadable in their depths. “You’ll see.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “What exactly does that mean, Lord Stark?”

But Cregan was already turning, heading toward the main hall without another word. Y/N stood there for a moment, blinking in confusion. Just a braid? She huffed, shaking her head as she followed him inside. Northerners and their damn cryptic ways.

It wasn’t until they entered the hall that Y/N realized something was… off.

Eyes turned toward her. And not the usual fleeting glances. No, these were lingering, assessing stares. Several of the women whispered to each other, and a few of the men gave her respectful nods. She caught the eye of a servant who quickly dipped her head in what almost seemed like… deference?

Gods be good.

“Why is everyone looking at me like that?” she muttered under her breath, shooting a glare at one particularly nosy maid.

Cregan didn’t answer, his lips twitching as though he was trying very hard not to laugh. The bastard was enjoying this.

“What did you do?” she demanded, her voice sharper now.

Finally, he met her gaze, and there was that smirk again. “The braid.”

“What about the bloody braid?”

“It’s… a tradition,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the stone wall. “In the North, braids have meanings. Especially for women.”

Her stomach sank. “What kind of meaning?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “A braid like that? It tells everyone that you’re… claimed.”

Y/N blinked, feeling her face heat despite the cold. “Claimed?” she echoed, her voice rising a pitch. “By whom exactly?”

Cregan’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “By me.”

Her mouth fell open. “You—what?! You did that on purpose? You—sly, stubborn—”

His laughter was a rare, low rumble that warmed the cold space between them. “You’ll get used to it, my lady.”

“Used to it?” Y/N fumed, her cheeks burning as the reality of what he’d done sunk in. “You can’t just—ugh!” She shoved at his chest, but it was like pushing a damn wall. “This is the North, Y/N. My North,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you are mine.”

A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, mixing with her frustration. The audacity. The nerve.

And yet…

Y/N's face burned hotter than the hearth fires in the Great Hall as Cregan’s words echoed in her ears: You are mine. Claimed. Oh, she was mortified.

She reached up, fingers fumbling to undo the braid that now seemed to burn against her scalp. “Absolutely not,” she muttered, her nails scraping against the tight weave as she tried to pull it apart. “I am not walking around Winterfell with everyone thinking—"

Before she could finish, Cregan’s hand shot out, closing around her wrist, firm but not rough. “What are you doing?”

She glared at him, teeth clenched. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m undoing this bloody braid before everyone in this hall assumes I’m some conquered—”

“You’re not,” he cut in, his voice low, but there was an edge to it. “And you won’t undo it.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the sudden command in his tone. “Excuse me?”

His eyes were intense, a storm brewing behind the calm gray. “The braid stays.”

She tried to yank her wrist out of his grip, but his hold was iron. Not painful, but resolute. “I didn’t agree to this—this.. this claiming nonsense,” she snapped, feeling a wave of embarrassment creep up her neck as she noticed more eyes turning their way.

Cregan leaned in slightly, his gaze unyielding. “In the North, it’s more than just words. It means something. You’re my wife. And you’ll wear that braid like it.”

Her heart pounded, heat flooding her chest. “I’ll wear what I damn well please—”

“Oi, Lady Stark!”

The loud shout from across the hall made Y/N freeze, her head whipping toward the source. One of the Northern men, a burly soldier with a wild grin on his face, pointed at her braid. “That’s a fine weave, my lady!” he hollered, winking.

The hall erupted into whistles, cheers, and hollers. Several of the men banged their fists on the tables, laughing and calling out words Y/N could barely make out. Some of the women were whispering behind their hands, giggling and exchanging knowing looks.

Y/N felt her face go crimson, her fingers still trapped in her hair, halfway through her attempt to undo the braid.

“Looks like the Warden’s laid his claim!” another man shouted, and more hoots followed.

Her stomach dropped. This was a nightmare. Mother save her, this is worse than a nightmare.

She tried again to pull at the braid, but Cregan’s hand didn’t budge from her wrist. “Cregan, I swear to the gods—”

His voice was maddeningly calm, but there was a cocky edge to it that made her blood boil. “You’ll leave it. And if you somehow forget, remember—we’ve got different gods, love. And mine? They’re backing me up.”

Y/N’s mouth opened to protest, but when she met his eyes, something in her faltered. He wasn’t just being possessive. There was something more there—something ancient, deep-rooted. A tradition that ran through his blood, through the very stones of Winterfell. She wasn’t just in his home. She was part of his world now.

But hell if she’d admit that to him.

“Cregan,” she hissed through clenched teeth, trying once more to yank her wrist free. “Everyone is staring!”

“And?” he asked, with that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. “Let them.”

Her eyes widened. “You—this isn’t funny! They’re hooting at me like I’m some prize at the fair!”

His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her pause. “You are no prize, Y/N,” he murmured, leaning close enough for his words to be for her ears only. “But you are mine. And in the North, we show it.”

Her breath caught at the warmth in his voice, even as her frustration grew. She had no idea what to say to that. What was she supposed to say? That she didn’t want to be claimed? That she didn’t want him? But the problem was… she did. And that was the most frustrating part.

The hall’s noise only grew louder. Some of the men had started clapping, whistling at them like they were some grand spectacle. Y/N wanted to sink into the stone floors.

“Let go of my wrist, Cregan,” she said, her voice quieter now, though it still carried her annoyance.

“Only if you stop trying to undo it,” he replied, his tone softening.

Y/N glared at him, her lips pressed into a tight line. But the heat of the stares, the teasing from the Northerners, was overwhelming. With a frustrated sigh, she dropped her hands from her hair.

“There,” she grumbled. “Now let go.”

He released her wrist, and immediately she wanted to punch him just a little bit. That cocky bastard.

“Was that so difficult?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “you’re lucky you’re my husband, or I’d throw you from the Wall.”

He leaned in, that smirk still present but softer now. “I’d like to see you try, wife.”

The word ‘wife’ sent another ripple of warmth through her, and she cursed silently under her breath. Why did it have this effect on her? And why did he have to look at her like that, with those damned Stark eyes, all cold and piercing but somehow still full of heat?

She crossed her arms, trying to hide her embarrassment under a glare. “Don’t expect me to be all smiles and sweet words because you’ve won this little battle, Stark.”

Cregan chuckled softly, his breath warm in the cold hall. “Who said I needed sweet words? You’re a Tully. I’d be disappointed if you weren’t fighting me.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt the smallest hint of a smile tug at her lips. Damn him. He knew exactly how to pull her in, even when she wanted to stay mad.

The cheers and whistles finally started to die down, though the teasing looks from the men and women of Winterfell didn’t. She sighed, looking up at Cregan. “You’re going to owe me for this.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Owe you?”

“Yes,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “For the embarrassment. You’ll owe me.”

Cregan grinned, his cold facade cracking just enough to show the warmth beneath. “Fair enough, wife. I’ll owe you.” He paused, a glint of mischief in his eye. “But that braid stays.”

She rolled her eyes. But a small smile tugged at her lips.

As they finally made their way to the high table, Y/N couldn’t help but glance at the braid once more. The claiming. It was still ridiculous. Still infuriating.

But gods help her… it felt good—brutishly, maddeningly good—to be claimed like this. She was going insane, because part of her didn’t mind it half as much as she pretended to.

A treacherous part of her silently hoped that Cregan would braid her hair again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the next. For as long as they both lived.

[littlexdeaths]

she fuckin’ hates me - e.m.

enemy eddie munson x fem reader x crush steve harrington

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: hate fucking, semi-public sex, mean!dom eddie (he’s secretly down so bad), fingering, they both call each names (slut, brat, asshole, dickhead), big dick eddie, unprotected piv sex (the condom breaks oops), unintentional cream pie, little sprinkle of angst

a/n: this is entirely inspired by that one audio by eyesofsuggestion (getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend).

word count: 3.5k

also huge shoutout to both @strangerstilinski and @uglypastels for helping me so much. i appreciate the hell out of you both. and also to @lesservillain for giving me the condom idea. enjoy my lil freaks xx.

“Looks like someone’s not enjoying the party…”

You barely register his deep voice over the thumping bass from inside the house when you stomp out onto the patio.

The night air feels nearly as sticky as inside the house, the amount of bodies pressing together causing the temperature to skyrocket.

But the moment you see his lanky figure leaning against the side of Steve’s house and the burning cherry of his cigarette in the dark— you’re half tempted to turn around.

You were already having a terrible night to begin with but you weren’t about to let Eddie Munson make it any worse for you. Knowing this was partially his fault to begin with. 

“What‘s it to you, Munson?” you spit.

His answering chuckle has you gritting your teeth, tucking your skirt under yourself as you sit on the patio steps.

“Oh nothing…” he hums, taking another long drag from his cigarette. “It’s just hard not to notice how you’ve been throwing yourself at Steve all night.”

While you hate to admit it, and you wouldn’t out loud— Eddie was right.

You’d gone out of your way to pretty yourself up for him, wearing your lowest cut blouse and your shortest skirt in hopes of getting his attention. You stayed by his side, laughed at all his jokes. Despite all the effort you put in, Steve barely spared you a passing glance.

It was such a total switch from how he was acting towards you the previous weekend. Steve had barely got you in his bedroom before his hands were in your pants. But now he was too busy shoving his tongue down a pretty blonde’s throat to even notice your absence.

“I haven’t been throwing myself at anyone, dickhead,” you roll your eyes with a scoff.

Eddie just laughs again, leaning his head back against the siding. “I wouldn’t have assumed  Steve’s dick game was so good that you’d be crawling back for sloppy seconds.” 

And when you turn to glare at him, you can’t help but admire the way the smoke unfurls from his plump lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, prick.” 

“— Hey now,” he mocked you with a slight pout, “Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me, princess. I was just stating the obvious.”

You avert your eyes before he catches you staring, but that frustration mixed with unkindled desire continues to mount between you with each passing second. 

So when your eyes are drawn back to him, you aren’t entirely sure why. 

As annoying as Eddie could be, you can’t deny that he was attractive. And if his shitty attitude towards you wasn’t the reason that Steve kept blowing you off, maybe you’d actually like him. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“— you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he teases.

While your face shows mock disgust, your body betrays you when you feel wetness beginning to pool in the fabric of your panties. 

“In your dreams, Munson.”

Eddie smirks a little, taking that as a challenge.

“What are you, scared?” 

Under normal circumstances, you’d tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. Perhaps it was your hormones getting the best of you. 

But there was something about the way the moonlight catches on his rings, and the pale glow that casts shadows over his handsome features— that’s making you think otherwise.

“I mean… I don’t see anyone else lining up to take that bratty ass of yours home.” Eddie takes one last, long drag but this time he notices the way your eyes linger on his lips.

You make it almost too easy.

“And it would be a damn shame to let all that hard work of yours go to waste, you know?” he continues casually while he snuffs out his cigarette. “Since Harrington, clearly isn’t appreciating it.” 

And you really can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Eddie closes the remaining distance between you, causing your head to tilt back as you look up at him in utter disbelief.

“Don’t act so coy, I saw how you were looking at me just now…”

Beneath his cocky demeanor, his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

Because unbeknownst to you, the real reason Steve was avoiding you at every turn was entirely for Eddie's benefit. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Eddie holds up his hand before you can say anything else, his lips lifting in a shit eating grin.

“Besides, we both know that if it’s not for me, you’ll be going home with an empty cunt. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Your body flushes at the vulgarity of his words, but you mull them over nonetheless. 

While you didn’t like him, despised him in fact— this could be an opportunity to get some pent up frustration out of your system. Since it was clear Steve wasn’t up for the challenge. 

So you tuck your lower lip in between your teeth and you rise to your feet.

“Fine,” you hum and there’s a sudden flash of surprise in his eyes. Like he half expected you to tell him to go fuck himself and storm off, but it’s gone just as quickly. “On one condition.”

The patio steps put you an inch or so above him, so now he has to look up to meet your gaze.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, princess?” he smirks.

You grip the fabric of his t-shirt in your fists, urging him closer. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your breasts now flush against his chest.

“You keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

And you use the advantage of your slight height difference to press your lips to his before he has a chance to respond.

Eddie all but groans into your mouth as tugs you closer, hands gripping onto your hips before splaying over the curve of your ass. When he slips his tongue in your mouth, he tastes like a dizzying combination of nicotine and cheap beer.

But the taste somehow leaves you wanting more.

So when you start to grind yourself onto his jean-clad thigh, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. The male fully enjoys the pitiful whimper it pulls from you.

“If you think I’m fucking you out here… you’re out of your goddamn mind,” he pants into your open mouth.

“Well if you had somewhere else in mind maybe you should try taking the reins, hotshot,” you fire back.

Eddie takes a single step up the stairs to place himself at eye level with you, as if to even the playing field. 

And you just stare at each other, both your eyes are ablaze with a mixture of annoyance and lust. It's Eddie who eventually breaks your gaze to brush past you and continue on towards the house.

He dares a glance over his shoulder once he reaches the patio door, a brow rising beneath his bangs as if to give you one final chance to back out. But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

No one spares either of you a second glance when he leads you up the stairs and pulls you into the first bedroom on the right. 

You know upon entering that this is Steve’s room, recognizing the checkered wallpaper from the weekend prior. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it before his lips are back on yours and he’s leading you towards his best friend’s bed.

“In here?” you say between heated kisses, earning you a deep hum when he pushes you down onto the mattress.

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” he mused, dark eyes admiring the way your skirt has risen up your thighs. “Unless… you really wanna make him jealous.” 

Eddie crawls over you after shrugging off his leather jacket and you can already feel how hard he is through the rough denim. You tug harshly on his hair when his lips trail down across your neck, teeth scraping against the hollow of your throat.

But the ache between your thighs only becomes stronger with each press of his lips, and in turn causes your already thin patience to slip further.

“Get on with it already, I don’t have all damn night.”

You can feel his laughter vibrate against your sweaty skin but his hand dips between your thighs nonetheless. Eddie cups your clothed pussy in the palm of his hand, pulling a breathy whine from you when he presses the heel of it against your clit.

“Hmm, givin' an awful lot of attitude to someone who's just tryin’ to do you a favor, sweetheart.”

You merely roll your eyes in response, reaching between your bodies to palm over the bulge that’s straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Huh, seems to me that you like my little attitude, asshole.”

The male groans into your neck when you apply more pressure, his hand quickly gripping onto your wrist before he pins the both of them above your head.

“Ya’know I usually love a bit of a challenge, but you sweetheart, are a giant pain in the ass.”

You giggle mockingly, tilting your head at him with a slight pout, “Aww, Eddie— I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

If only you knew… 

That laughter morphs into a soft gasp when he yanks your panties down your thighs with his other hand. Those calloused fingers slipping between your slick folds to circle over your swollen bud.

His nose skims along the curve of your shoulder, greedily inhaling your perfume. Enjoying the way your body practically shudders beneath his own.

“So sensitive…” he coos mockingly, the tip of his middle finger brushing over your puckered hole. “And I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

Any snarky comment dies on your tongue when he slips the digit inside, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. A small mewl gets caught in your throat when he slides another finger in and your body welcomes the stretch.

Eddie can only grin wider when you grind your hips down onto his fingers, his other hand releases your wrists to tug down the front of your blouse to free your breasts. He has to hold back a moan of his own when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, his lips latching around your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your fingers tangling themselves in his wild mane while his curl up inside you.

“If only Steve could see how much of a fucking mess you’re making for me,” he taunts, leaning his mouth down to suck on the underside of your breast. “Bet he’d be so pissed that you’re ruining his expensive sheets, sweetheart.”

Your answering whimper has him chuckling, urging him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you. Ultimately proving his point as you can feel the wetness dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. But the noisy glide of his fingers are nearly as taunting as his words.

“E-Eddie— I…” your chest heaves as you trail off, feeling that rubber band in your middle about to snap with each pump of his fingers.

He knows what that blissful look on your face means and it brings him a little too much pleasure to see it crumble when he completely removes his fingers from inside you. Your cry of frustration has his cock practically throbbing in his jeans, sticky fingers hurrying to unbuckle his belt.

“Nah uh,” he tuts. “You don’t always get what you want, brat.”

Eddie pushes his jeans and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, the sight of it momentarily distracting you.

He was big, much bigger than you anticipated.

Part of you was almost worried he wasn’t going to fit. Eddie must see the mixture of surprise and awe written across your features, as he leans forward to swipe his thumb along the corner of your mouth.

“Drooling already? You flatter me, sweetheart.”

He reaches over for a condom in Steve’s bedside drawer, ripping the packet open with his teeth. But Eddie can practically see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he rolls the latex on, which only causes him to laugh harder.

“Oh how cute, you thought I was gonna fill you up, baby?” he all but sneers as he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together. “A slut like you has to earn that privilege.”

He lets go of your cheeks, ringed fingers spreading your thighs apart and pulling you down toward the edge of the mattress. Positioning you in just the right spot so he can tap the head of his cock against your clit.

The wet slapping noise it makes has him grinning even wider and it takes everything in you not to slap that look right off his face.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna actually fuck me?” you huff.

He tilts his head at you, a little surprised by your sudden outburst. And to think you were being so good just a minute ago.

“See, that’s not what we’re going to do, brat.” He clicks his tongue, his other hand gripping the meat of your thighs a little harder. “Keep giving me that attitude and I’ll have no issue walking out of here and burying my cock into someone else.”

You just glare at each other, in a silent struggle for power. But this time you are the first to crack when you cast your eyes downward. That uncomfortable silence stretches on for a moment too long, which he mistakes for regret. 

He’s about to tuck himself back into his jeans when you grip onto his wrist with a soft whine.

“N-No, shit— please don’t go.”

Eddie just raises an eyebrow at you, not impressed by that meek attempt at begging. So you blow out the breath you were holding, swallowing your pride when your eyes flick up to meet his.

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please.”

You feel incredibly pathetic begging Eddie Munson of all people. But you also can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs when you feel the thick head of his cock glide against your entrance.

“See? Now was that so hard?” he snickers, giving you no warning before he’s guiding the head inside your sopping cunt.

“Jesus— fuck, you’re tight,” he blurts, marveling as your pussy practically sucks him in. 

You let out a gasp when he bottoms out with a low hiss, his own head tipping backwards when you clench harder around him. But the male doesn’t move a muscle, his hands gripping onto your hips to keep you in place.

An act of mercy really— he doesn’t want to hurt you.

While you are grateful for the reprieve, that slight sting soon fades into a dull ache and you desperately need more.

When Eddie feels you start to squirm in his grasp, he groans low in his throat. His head tips back down to meet your half lidded gaze while he carefully guides his cock out before sliding it back in.

He works up a steady rhythm, but slow enough to keep you both teetering on the edge of desperation— until you can’t take it anymore.

“God— go faster,” your attempt at a direct order comes out as more a breathy plea instead.

But he doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands coaxing your trembling legs over his shoulders before slamming his hips back into yours. An elated moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping onto the sheets as you eagerly meet each hard thrust he gives you.

“It’s too bad Harrington’s missin’ out on all this,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as he watches that creamy ring around his cock expand with each snap of his hips. “But I can put in a really good word for ya, princess.”

And when your eyes roll back, it’s not from annoyance this time— as he hits your sweet spot dead on.

“I hate you,” you huff regardless, but your words don’t hold nearly as much malice. 

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” 

You miss the smug look that crosses his features when your back arches up off the mattress and you cry out his name repeatedly.

“That’s it, brat— say my name louder. Let them know… let Steve know who’s making you feel this good.” 

Your nails dig into his forearms as he fucks you even faster, a low growl pushing past his lips with each hard thrust. The bed creaks harshly in protest but that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.

If anything— it encourages him to go harder, bucking into you like some wild animal. The little uh, uh uh’s that he pushes out of you are music to his ears, the sounds becoming higher in pitch the closer you get to the edge.

And when your eyes flutter shut, he only quickened his pace. The brunette practically bends you in half as he leans into you, this new angle forcing him even deeper.

“Look.” Grunt. “At.” Grunt. “Me.” Grunt.

In your blissed out state, you miss the hidden meaning behind his pointed words. 

When you manage to finally open them, he’s closer. A lot closer than you expected. So close you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the sweat that dots his upper lip. 

Maybe you’ve never wanted to admit it to yourself before, but Eddie really was gorgeous. And from the way he’s gazing down at you, pupils blown out and glassy, you can only assume he feels the same about you. 

And that last bit of self control slips when you smash your lips together.

He kisses you back just as forcefully, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. Gasping for breath, your fingers begin to loosen their grip on his arm. Slipping them between your bodies to rub quick circles over your swollen bud. 

The sensation has your walls squeezing tighter around him, earning you another throaty moan. 

“See how much easier you are to deal with like this, baby?” He mumbles against your mouth, enjoying the small scowl that crosses over your features. “All cockdrunk and stupid… it suits you.” 

While you open your mouth to throw one last insult his way, a pointed thrust into your sweet spot has you trembling. A loud squeal leaving your lips instead when you tumble over the edge. 

And Eddie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart beneath him, memorizing each expression with the utmost sincerity. Even if you did hate him, he couldn’t help himself. 

“Oh, atta girl…” he praises, his hot breath fanning over your lips while he continues to bury himself inside you.

You feel the sudden snap of the latex before he does. The male blissfully unaware as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and finishes with a deep groan, unintentionally filling you up in the process.

“Hm, guess I got what I wanted after all,” you laugh a little breathlessly. 

Eddie lifts his head in confusion, the realization finally dawns on him when he feels his warmth start to trickle down your thighs. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He curses as he pulls out, making an even bigger mess of both you and the sheets in the process. 

“Stupid, fucking cheap ass condoms,” he huffs under his breath, chucking the broken rubber into the trash. 

Although his jaw is clenched in annoyance, his eyes are now transfixed on where his cum begins to leak out of your puffy pussy and onto the bedspread.

Unable to stop himself, Eddie reaches out a hand to graze along the underside of your ass. He collects some of the mess on his fingertips and guides them back inside you.

And despite the sensitivity, the possessiveness of his actions has your walls clenching around his dexterous fingers.

Everything comes to a sudden halt when the bedroom door swings open, knocking into the wall.

“Alright you horny shits, time to…” Steve trails off once he sees the two of you, honey hues widening in disbelief. “In my bed, Munson? Really?” 

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, merely straightening up from where he was hovering over your half naked form whilst you quickly tug the sheets over yourself from sheer embarrassment.

Now all Eddie can see is the way you're looking at Steve. Something sour settles in his stomach, a tangle of jealousy and hurt. While his heart rate slows, his defenses go back up. 

That feeling prickles along his skin as he tucks himself back into his boxers and re-fastens the button on his jeans. 

"Was just warmin' her up for ya, man," Eddie says through his teeth. 

Steve's look of confusion deepens as he glances between the two of you, knowing that this is exactly what Eddie had wanted. 

But now Eddie won’t even look at you. 

He doesn't see the conflicted emotions swimming in your eyes when he speaks again. Throwing the words over his shoulder without a second glance as he grabs his jacket and turns to leave. 

"She's all yours, Harrington." 

That lie burns on his tongue like acid, but he doesn't look back.

taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @popbangcrash @corrodedcorpses @demibats @hellfire--cult @calumfmu @bastardstevie @emmypoisonedqueen @probablyin-bed @luv4peterba1lard @stolen-in-moonlight @potatobeans99 @your-nightmaredoll @rebelfell @josephquinnsfreckles @chaptersleftunwritten @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @callsignmedusa @splendiferous-bitch @spenciesprincess @creepycranberry @idkwhattoputhere08 @obsessed-midwest-princess @joequiinn @celestialbat @rosekicks @not-my-lover @alba8688 @kellsck sorry if i missed anyone!

[classyrbf]

we need shy freak I beggg, he ain’t seen this coming🙈

ᯓ★ FREAK LIKE ME! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...being the quiet girl sometimes has its perks and gojo satoru is in for a hell of a ride

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, quiet!reader, handjob, edging, kinda sub!gojo, dom!reader, establish relationship, reader reads smut/watches porn, overstim, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon, I hope you enjoy!

Gojo Satoru was known for being the rich, handsome, popular kid who always had girls fawning over him everywhere he went. He’d get any girl he want just by flashing a smile and before he knew it, they’re panties dropped to the floor. College was fun when you were going out every other night, fucking this girl and that girl, because who cares? Surely not him. But one thing no one anticipated, not even Gojo himself, was getting a girlfriend who was quite literally the opposite of him. You were so adorable to him, different from the rest, too buried in your books and work to care about anything else going on.

Gojo noticed very quickly that you were the shy, quiet type. Everytime he’d try to kiss you, even compliment you, you’d turn away with a flustered look. “Awe, is my baby shy?” He’d chuckle, kissing your cheek. It was something he wasn’t used to at all, but he liked it.

You’d bought a new dress from the mall and Gojo demanded that you show him, practically pleading on his hands and knees when you shrugged your shoulders. Eventually you gave you in, walking out from the bathroom, hands clasped together and head hung low. “Do you like it?” You quietly asked.

“Like it? Baby, I love it! I’m resisting the temptation to just bend you over and fuck you right here!” His eyes widen in surprise. He chuckles at the way you turn your head away from him.

“Toru! Don’t say stuff like that! You scold him while hiding your face. Gojo thinks you’re the most innocent thing known to man, getting all shy over the smallest things. But what your clueless boyfriend didn’t know is that you weren’t some innocent, quiet girl who had zero clue about sex or intimacy in general. You watched porn, read smut, and fantasized about all the nasty things you wanted to do to your boyfriend.

It wasn’t until one day you decided it was time to get over your fears and show your boyfriend what he was missing out on.

“Baby—nnngh, ah—s-slow down…fuck!” His voiced cracked, head falling back into the crook of your neck as you pumped his cock from behind, his precum messily smearing over his length. “W-where—mmph—did this even come from?” He chuckled, hips stuttering when you squeezed the head of his cock tighter. His body slouched between your legs, chest heaving up and down. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum already!”

You wickedly giggled in his ear and Gojo absolutely has no idea how to feel in this moment. Who were you and what did you do to his sweet girl? “You’re leaking so much, Toru. You’ve been thinking about this, huh?” You darted your tongue out, licking a stripe on his skin. His entire body shuddered in your hold, eyes clenching shut when you ran your thumb over his throbbing red tip.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been thinking about it—hah!” He nods his head, his nails digging into the plush of your thighs as you bring him on the brink of his orgasm before slowing down your movements. “No, no, baby don’t tease me like that!” He whines, bucking his hips into your hand.

“You’re so needy! Does my pretty boy wanna cum?” You smirk against his skin, peppering small kisses from his jaw to his neck. He quickly nods his head, whimpering like a bitch in heat. Your hand firmly wraps around his throat and Gojo swears he’s sent to another planet. Where did you learn all this from? From who? From what? It’s like you switched personalities. But he loves it, craves it even.

“Oh my god,” he groans, eyes rolling back when you squeeze the base of his cock and slowly drag your hand up his shaft in circular motion. “Please, please, please,” he begs. His cheeks flushed a baby pink while drool forms at the corner of his mouth.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you? Already begging to cum.” You began to pump your hand faster, his legs shaking and hips stuttering. You wrap your legs around his, restricting him from moving any more than he already is.

His abs tense up, body jolting while his lewd moans echo off the walls of your bedroom. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna—shit, shit…gonna cum,” he whimpers. His brows in a concentrated furrow, too focused on the way your hand is wrapped around his thick, veiny cock. “C-cumming,” he’s barely able to groan out, his entire body going limp when you squeeze his throat harder. Your mischievous giggles send the blood rushing straight to his dick and milliseconds later spurts of his cum shoot from his aching tip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His hips are shaking, globs of cum coating his abs and your hands, using it as lube.

“You’re still cumming,” you chuckle, his hips writhing beneath you. Gojo has never came this hard in his life and his dick was still pulsating in your hand.

“S-so sensitive,” he cries out, gritting his teeth as tears form in the corner of his eyes. His breath hitches and he swears he could see stars in his vision.

“Want me to stop? Is it too much, baby?” Your sultry tone sends shivers down his spine. He shakes his head no, biting down on his bottom lip, a metallic taste filling his mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

a/n: y/n is boughta make me bust and I’m the one writing her lmaoo

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[januaryembrs]

MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [BONUS]

Description: the NINE months of pregnancy

Word count: 10.9k

warnings: pregnancy duh, babies, giving birth, c-section, ummm body fluids? lots of emotions, nausea & sickness, talks of weight gain and stretch marks.

authors note: y'all... there you have it. I will be back to finish their story but until then this is my goodbye piece until I have finished my hiatus to write my own book and start uni (again). I can't wait to take these two (three) on the final lap they deserve but for now.. I hope you enjoy pookies being pookies.

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MONTH ONE. The one where she finds out.

She hadn’t meant to find out when she did. It had been just a routine implant swap that she’d had twice already in the last six years. 

“Any blood clotting, any pain at all?” The nurse asked, jotting down a few notes on her form as she sat back on the bed and waiting for the numbing cream to take hold. 

She shook her head. “It’s weird as hell to feel and when I think about it too long it freaks me out, but no, no pain,” She said and the nurse chuckled, nudging her glasses up her nose.

“And finally, is there any chance that you’re pregnant?” She asked, no doubt having rehearsed the same script about thirty times that day alone.

Bugsy gave her a flat smile, “Small chance, but I guess that’s what this is for, huh?” 

The nurse looked at her then, as if mulling over the words before she said something, “Small chance?”

“I mean, nothing is a hundred percent effective,” Bugsy tried to weasel her way out of the awkward conversation, because she had absolutely no intention of letting the nurse know her and Spencer had been at it like bunnies since the Hotch had forced them to take medical leave. Who knew having so much time on her hands with her very handsome boyfriend would have that effect? 

The nurse pursed her lips, and already the woman felt like she’d said too much. 

“Alright, we’re going to do a routine test, just need a quick urine sample,” Bugsy felt her cheeks heat, though she was in no position to argue. Her discomfort must have been more obvious than she thought, however, as the nurse went on to explain, “If I give you this implant and there’s a fertilised egg, it can lead to ectopic pregnancy, in which case you’ll need surgery. Trust me, honey, peeing in a cup is your easy option,” 

She gave the practitioner a small nod, wondering if she needed to message Spencer to say she’d be running a little late. She knew he was likely doing the sudoku in the waiting room magazine, since he’d refused to let her come alone. And even though she’d told him she would be fine on her own, he’d seen through it, had even offered to get her ice cream on the way home for putting on a brave face. 

And yet her face was nothing short of horror struck not even half an hour later when the nurse showed her the stick with empathetic eyes. 

“Congratulations,” The woman said cautiously, a fake smile plastered on her face as the girl stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. 

“But, I thought…” Bugsy stammered, running a finger over where the nurse had removed her implant, “But I had everything ready, I never let it get late, I did what I was supposed to,” 

“You said it yourself, honey, nothing is a hundred percent effective besides abstinence-” 

“That’s just what parents say to make sure their kids aren’t banging every Tom, Dick and Harry out there!” Bugsy was near screeching, the worry in her tone clear as a bell and her chest hot with panic. 

Pregnant. She was pregnant, there was no way she could be…

Except there was exactly a way she could be, seeing as she struggled even on a dry spell to keep her hands off Spencer longer than a few days at a time. And he was just as bad.

The nurse huffed, rifling through her drawers for a handful of pamphlets. She passed them to Bugsy whose mouth was still bobbing with more expletives she held herself back from saying, and it wasn’t until she saw the happy couple on the front of the first one, holding a very swollen and round bump that she thought she might be sick. 

Comical timing, she hissed at herself. 

“There are always options, sweetheart. Abortion is legal in Virginia, if that is what you decide, however there is always information and support that we recommend looking into before you make a solid decision,” Her response was professional even though her expression was compassionate, and Bugsy knew she must have looked scared because that was exactly how she felt and she had little to no room to hide it. 

Abortion? Is that what she wanted? Except it wasn’t just about what she wanted, it was what Spencer wanted too. Even if he would argue against that being the case in a heartbeat, even if he would tell her she had every right to be the only one to make a decision, no matter what he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so much about needing his opinion for that reason, and more it was because she had absolutely no clue what to do and Spencer was always good at making sense of the things she didn’t know how to deal with. 

She nodded silently, her mouth dry as sandpaper as she took the leaflets and stuffed them in the bottom of her purse where she hoped Spencer wouldn’t go looking. 

She barely remembered standing on liquid legs, barely remembered the way her chest felt tight and her head spun as she thought of the fact her body had a baby growing inside it. 

No, it wasn’t a baby. Not yet. It was likely the size of a grain of sand, miniscule. That wasn’t a baby, that was nothing. 

But it would be. Eventually. It would be hers and Spencer’s baby.

And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him the second she saw him there in the waiting room, his head shooting up the second the door opened and she left looking a little ill and shaken. 

“All done? Everything go as normal?”  He preened, standing immediately as she neared him, his hand immediately weaving around her shoulder to pull her close by. Gently, ofcourse, because she had a big, fat bandage where her implant should have been. 

“Y-yeah,” She stammered, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in her throat. Yet she knew immediately that he did. Because he leaned in to give her a delicate kiss to her forehead not even a moment later, “C-can we go straight home, I’m not feeling ice cream anymore,” 

He looked worried, as anyone who knew her would because Bugsy turning down free pudding was a blaring red siren in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” He said, stroking a gentle hand over the side of her head and leading her where he’d parked the car. 

And it was that worry, the same cloud that hung over him for months with Scratch and his mom and the Dirty Dozen and everything else that was put onto his shoulder that made her shut her mouth right then and there. He didn’t need one other thing to contend with, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world. 

And so she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet at least.

MONTH TWO. The one with the scan.

“Spence, would you stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be fine,” She urged in the gentlest tone she could muster. Yet she was a hypocrite, because she felt her hands shaking as she sat in the chair, trying to adjust her sleeves for something to do and Spencer stopped his leg from bouncing. 

Looking over at her, he sighed, holding out a large palm and weaving her fingers in between his and she flicked a look over at him, her own eyes nervous. 

“I’m sorry,” He gave her a guilty smile, “If it helps, it’s half excitement too,”

And she smiled then, shaking her head as he squeezed her hand gently. 

“Me too,” She confessed, looking down at her stomach that didn’t seem all too different than usual. She’d felt a few symptoms up until this point, a bit of nausea but that was nothing she couldn’t handle, headaches here and there. But it wasn’t anything exactly life changing that she’d expected when she’d always thought of pregnancy. 

If anything, none of it felt real quite just yet. Having only been a few weeks since she’d told Spencer, they’d spent the majority of the time searching for houses and appointments and gynaecologists and neonatal care, and whenever they were free, they were trying to get used to the idea of the two of them as parents.

“Did you know they’re around half an inch long by now,” Spencer said, his hazel eyes falling to where her shirt hid her stomach that had yet to change no matter how many times he stared at it, “About a third of that is made up of their head,”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” She shrugged, stroking her thumb along the edge of his pinky finger, “It’s your kid, they’re going to have biggest brain out there,” 

He snickered, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it softly, “If they have even half your brains, we’re going to be raising the next Galileo,” 

“Mr and Mrs Reid,” Their heads shot up at the midwife, Bugsy fumbling for words to correct him as the two of them stood up to greet him with bashful smiles. She didn’t need to look at Spencer’s face to know he’d gone bright red. 

“It’s uh, Prentiss-Reid,” Spencer spluttered as they entered and the nurse looked again at his chart with wide eyes, his cheeks a little pink himself and he ushered the two of them into his office with a smile. 

“So it is, I do apologise,” He said earnestly, holding a hand out to gesture Bugsy to sit on the reclining bed, “I hate to stereotype, but usually when dad books the appointments, its because their wives are already doing a hundred other things,” 

“It’s okay, it happens,” She said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding Spencer’s eyes because they still hadn’t had that talk. Even though she knew her mother would frown at her grandchild being born a bastard, she didn’t care much for Elizabeth’s opinion. It wasn’t like marriages had ever led to good things for her mother anyway. 

She hopped up onto the examination cot, her heart quivering just the slightest in worry because the smell of bleach and rubber made the whole thing real. Until then, having a grain of rice growing inside her seemed like a fever dream since she’d only had a handful of side effects, throwing up could have easily been passed off as bad chicken, the head aches could have just been her eyes straining from using her computer too much. 

“Okay, everything feels okay, Mom? Nothing concerning at all?” And then the midwife said things like that, mom, and the part of her that almost forgot she was pregnant came to a screeching halt. 

She’d be a mom. Someone would call her mom. The thought of it made her suck in a breath.

“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat and felt Spencer grab her hand, “Morning sickness is kicking my ass, but nothing worrying,”

The nurse chuckled, and she felt Spencer rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, his eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“Well, if it’s alright, I need you to lift your shirt up a little so we can have a see what’s going on,” He said with a kind smile, and she realised then he’d slipped latex gloves over his hands, and brandished a bottle of gel. 

She nodded absently, doing as he said and lifting her shirt to sit under her breasts, drawing the hem of her skirt down so he had a space to apply. And the second he did she sucked in breath through her nose, the cold of the air conditioning chilling her to her marrow, and she tried telling herself that’s why her hands were shaking. 

She felt Spencer’s fingers curve through her hair, and she reminded herself to breathe, looking over at him with nervous eyes she hoped he didn’t see straight through. But judging by the way he scooted the chair forward and gave her an encouraging smile, she guessed he’d seen the flicker of doubt in an instant. 

“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine,” He murmured, his own fear buried deep somewhere she couldn’t see anymore the second she had been the one to look to him for help. She knew she wanted this, knew she’d always dreamed of Spencer and her having their happily ever after. She knew whenever she’d let herself think of a little boy with chocolate curls and hazel eyes that she wanted all of that and more. 

But it was all so… real. Like seeing a movie come to life, and she was starring centre stage. Her body wasn’t a disposable shell that held thirty plus years of stupid mistakes and regrets and tattoos she’d decided she hated now. Her body had a whole other human inside it. 

The midwife clicked the machine on, the transducer wand ready in his hand as he gently put it on her lower stomach, barely a few centimetres from her panties, and she wondered why they showed the wand roaming over the woman’s belly button on tv shows since that was entirely wrong and not nearly as embarrassing. She let out a shaky breath, and Spencer stroked her head again, forcing her to give him an unsure look, like she was trying to calm herself for his sake but couldn’t.

His eyes were anxious though he squeezed her again with a smile and she saw it immediately, like he too was trying to be brave for her. 

She had never loved him so much. 

“Apologies for the shock, I know the gel can be a little cold,” The nurse said with a grin, and it was only then she realised the screen had lit up with a black and white image, one she’d seen a thousand times when she’d studied neonatal procedures for her degree. 

She knew that was her womb lining, and that was the amniotic fluid and that right there-

Bugsy froze, and judging by the way Spencer’s hand tightened around her own, he had too. She felt her mouth drop with a laugh of shock, and she sat up slightly to take a closer look at the monitor. 

“And there is baby,” The midwife said, his expression warming as he watched Spencer’s stand up to lean over the bed, not once letting go of the woman’s hand, the two of them utterly enraptured in the screen, “Probably about the size of a raspberry,”

And Bugsy laughed, her eyes lined with tears as she looked up at Spencer’s equally wetted hues. He was grinning from ear to ear when he looked down at her, and it wasn’t long before he brought his lips to her forehead, his nose and throat burning with a held cry. 

“Do you hear that? A whole raspberry already?” She said, her voice wobbling and he giggled, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his cheeks with his sleeve. “I am good at this cooking thing, might as well call me an easy bake oven,”

Spencer shook his head with another chuckle, his eyes trailing back to the little blob on the screen that looked more like a toy alien than anything else, and held her hand between both of his like he was in prayer. 

Because Spencer never believed in anything sacred and divine until he met Bugsy.

MONTH THREE. The one where they tell everyone.

“What are you doing?” Bugsy jumped out of her skin as JJ all but materialised behind her. She looked over her shoulder guiltily, her hand still half way through pouring out her mug of coffee Derek had handed her before he left to get lunch. 

She turned to see the blonde with her own steaming mug of decaf in her hands. She’d been taking the lack of caffeine much better this time around since having a second baby to breastfeed, considering she was nothing short of evil when she’d had Henry, which had been Spencer’s words not Bugsy’s. And it wasn’t as if the woman could blame her. She was grouchy when she didn’t get her regular dose even before being pregnancy, Derek had once gotten a kick to the shin when he’d disturbed her on a day she’d been too busy to grab one on her way to the office. 

She was a fiend for the bitter god. And everyone knew it. Which was exactly why JJ’s eyebrows were all but raised into her hairline seeing the girl who would usually be in the stages of withdrawal by now tipping the drink away. 

“Uh, the milk tasted funky,” She excused, though the way JJ narrowed her eyes at the poor excuse told her it hadn’t passed by a mile. 

“Right, the milk that Hotch picked up this morning?” JJ pursed her lips, sliding her own mug onto the side and jutting her hip. 

And as if he were summoned, Hotch sidled up to the kitchenette, Rossi and Tara hot on his heels as they flicked through some paperwork, and his head shot up the minute he heard his name. 

His eyes trailed to where the girl flipped her mug upside on the drying rack, and his brow furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, and she huffed in response, wiping her hands on her jeans. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” She grumbled, shaking her head, “I don’t know what you’re all so wound up about, it’s not like I’m dying, I just don’t feel like coffee today-”

“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped where she crept behind Hotch with her very favourite octopus mug in tow, one that was nearly thrown to the floor when she heard the words pour from the girl’s mouth, “Are you sick? Like in the body or in the head? Rossi, check her pulse, I’m going to get a thermometer-”

“Pen, I’m fine,” She said unconvincingly and she tried to skirt past the group that seemed to have her surrounded. Seeing Spencer pulling up the rear in search of lunch she felt herself sigh in relief, because he would think of a much better excuse than she ever could. 

She had barely been able to keep her mouth shut for the months they had been secretly dating, and had relished in the peace it brought her when everyone knew. But the midwife had said it was common to keep things under wraps at least until the first trimester was over. Apparently the million of questions that were sure to be heading their way would cause her unnecessary stress, though she’d argue having to sneak to the sink every morning and dispose of a delicious looking coffee was torture enough. 

“What’s up?” Spencer asked as she ducked towards him, his hand consciously wrapping around her waist, and she huffed again, looking to him with a silent plea.

“They’re profiling me,” Bugsy said, and he felt his gut knot because he should have known it wouldn’t be long before they caught on. It was their job to pick apart out of the ordinary behaviour, and Bugsy going teetotal on caffeine was definitely something of a head turner.

“I told you that diet would cause a stir,” He joked, hoping they bought his pathetic attempt of an excuse, as he gave her side a gentle squeeze, and hoped that he could lead her back to her desk like she was a lost little lamb being prowled upon by nosy wolves that rarely took no for an answer. 

And it almost worked, almost, until JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at his wandering hand. 

“See that, that is the fourth time you’ve been all touchy and weird this week,” The blonde surprised, her brows furrowing, “Bugsy hates PDA, usually by now she would have whacked you over the head and called you a perv,”

Bugsy smashed her lips together because she couldn’t exactly disagree with her. That’s exactly what she usually did. Usually would tell Spencer to stop being so horny in a place of work even if she felt her cheeks heat at the delicate grabs of her stomach fat. 

But whether it was the little bean now around the size of a small lemon that had made her mellow and affectionate, or whether the lack of caffeine really was making her feel vulnerable, she wasn’t sure. And the whole thing was only made worse by Hotch’s eyes burning into the side of her, and she felt the trail of his gaze head straight for her stomach. 

“Come to think of it, I only saw you with a lime and soda at Savannah’s birthday last week,” Rossi pointed out, wagging his finger in her direction, his brown hues widening in thought, “When Penelope asked if you wanted tequila you said-”

“I’m all tequila-ed out,” Penelope chimed in with the same frown, “But that can’t be, when have you ever been tequila-ed out, that’s like impossible, even that night we had to help Spencer get you in the shower because you’d thrown up everywhere you were demanding more,”

She felt her cheeks heat thinking about her twenty ninth birthday, or atleast the parts of it she could remember of it before the rest of the gaps were filled with black spaces of time that she guessed had been robbed from her by the shots she piled on. 

“Maybe I just didn’t feel like tequila, can a girl not live in the moment?” She tried to rebuttal, only Penelope gave her a blank look that told her to try again because the Bugsy she knew would slap her for saying something so dumb. She opened her mouth to correct her again, but Hotch beat her to it. 

“You know Hayley got really affectionate a couple months into being pregnant,” The man said, his eyes swirling with something proud and warm when he saw Bugsy’s head flick to him like she’d been caught red handed, which they had. “Though, if you ask me I think she was just a little sorry for herself that I took the coffee away,”

There was a beat of silence, and the room held its breath. Even Tara, who had only known them the best part of a few months raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Bugsy shot a look at Spencer in utter defeat. 

“We tried,” She said with her shoulders shrugging, and it was then that the office was filled with a piercing scream that turned a fair few heads and the infamous octopus mug was thrown clear across the kitchen floor, one of his tentacles snapping clean off. 

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE? YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Penelope wailed like a banshee, and Bugsy couldn’t help but break into a smile, nodding at the woman who screeched again and yanked her in for a tight hug, “Oh my god, there's going to be three of you, three geniuses, three little einsteins that I want to smush together and kiss all over-” 

“Garcia, I think she needs air if she’s going to make another little genius,” Rossi said, and the tech analyst pulled away aghast, cupping Bugsy’s face that was still grinning ear to ear with a chuckle.

“Oh my god, I didn’t hurt you did I? Or the baby- Oh my god there’s a baby in there!” 

Hotch wrapped a rare yet tender arm around Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a little pat and a “Congratulations” while Rossi smiled knowingly between the couple and JJ had her turn smothering Bugsy in a tearful hug. 

And by the time Derek had walked into the office with his everything bagel hanging between his teeth and a tea in his hands, his onyx hues fell to Penelope, JJ and Bugsy exchanging weepy words while Tara handed them tissues with her own sparkling eyes.

“What fresh hell did I miss?”

MONTH FOUR. The one where she starts looking different.

She huffed, her fingers gripping the edge of her jeans and yanking them up her thighs as far as they would go. She felt like everything had shrunk in the wash, or like she was trying on a doll’s wardrobe. Surely she hadn’t gained that much weight in just a few months, but then again she’d been all but living off chocolate pudding cups since the Bean decided it wanted sugar, sugar and more sugar. 

She grunted in annoyance, her arms and back aching where she was leaning over to pull at the infernal things. She barely had a second to pout childishly, before kind hands were wrapping around her stomach and a mouth kissed at her neck tenderly. 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” His voice was honey sweet, thick and goopy with love overflowing as he pulled her to his chest, his hand caressed the bump that seemed to be getting in the way of her and her favourite jeans. Spencer knew she tried to ignore the symptoms that almost every woman felt during pregnancy, he knew she compared herself to how JJ had handled both pregnancies gracefully and looked better than ever even as a mother of two. He knew she hated complaining because she didn’t want him to think she was miserable carrying their kid, but god was she getting sick of her clothes pinching her in.

“I’m getting fatter,” Bugsy grumbled, her eyes darting to the vivid lines that had deepened into the crease of her hips within a few weeks and she winced, “I’m not even halfway, how does this kid want to eat pudding all the time?” 

Spencer frowned, shaking his head slightly because he refrained from telling her what a silly statement it was, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead pressed delicate kisses to her jaw, squeezing her closer. He’d noticed the stretch marks, just as he’d noticed her face and hips gathering weight a bit more than usual, and was just grateful there was even more Bugsy to love. 

“You’re eating for two, you’re literally growing a whole life inside of you. I think that is more than enough grounds to eat whatever you want,” He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek when she sighed as though she didn’t believe him, “Honey, clothes are replaceable. What your body’s trying to do is create a little bubble around you and this little pudding fiend so you can feed them when they’re out here,” 

Bugsy knew he was right. She’d spent well over a hundred hours researching hormone levels and how pregnant bodies are changing all hours of the day to accommodate the foetus, she knew it was normal for things to look different. Had it been on anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye. But it didn’t make the sting of seeing her body morph into one she didn’t recognise any less harsh.

“I know,” She hummed somewhat defeated, turning in his arms to press her face in his neck, “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast is all,”

Spencer smiled warmly, because every day he thought she had gotten impossibly prettier. He hadn’t believed in ‘pregnancy glow’, in fact he’d chalked it down to some sort of innate scientific survival tactic that associated a vulnerable woman with looking angelic, at least not until he’d woken up to see her stomach protruding from her pyjama top in a clear curve shape and he thought her face looked like she should be in some Monet painting, dozing in a field like a wide eyed doe. 

“I know, it’s a lot for anyone to go through. But you know I’m so grateful for you,” Spencer said, and he felt her smile without even seeing it. Her fingers wove into his hair at the nape of his neck, kissing a trail up his chest because he suspected she looked somewhat embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not complaining. It means I get to do this,” 

She felt two large hands grab at the fat of her bum cheeks and she squeaked in surprise, even though she heard him laugh in her ear at her reaction. That had been another thing she’d noticed, and how could she not. Penelope said just the other day that she was ‘baking a bun in the oven and cake in the trunk’ with a little wink, and she’d had to excuse herself quickly for lack of a response. 

And Spencer wasn’t lying. He wasn’t complaining with any of it, not by a long shot. 

MONTH FIVE.  The one with the mood swings.

“So you guys really don’t want to know the sex?” JJ asked, sipping on her tea as she chatted with Bugsy who was balancing biscuits on top of her now protruding stomach. It was as if overnight the baby had stretched out enough to make themselves a damn penthouse suite in Bugsy’s tummy. 

“We want it to be a surprise, either way we’re going to love the little bean, even if they do keep kicking my bladder at four am,” She said, balancing the tenth cookie on the tower she’d made, reaching over carefully for another one, “I swear if the bean kicks my cookie tower I’m giving them a hideous name,”

“It’s good to feel the baby kicking at this stage, it helps develop their joints and bones so they’re stronger when they’re born.” Spencer inputted helpfully as he slid a fresh mug of decaf tea over to her desk.

“Next time the baby kicks your uterus walls, Spence, gimme a shout and we’ll discuss how great it is,” Bugsy said with a small smile and he paused, looking at JJ as if he was caught in a trap, suddenly well aware of his mistake. 

“Point taken,” He conceded quietly, and JJ chuckled because she’d seen Will just as hesitant to piss her off in both of her pregnancies. And she knew Bugsy would never hold it against him, that Spencer’s head just ran away from him sometimes. 

She halted her little game and carefully leaned over to draw the mug to her lips, too impatient to wait for it to cool down fully and she barely spotted Derek swooping around the corner of the desk.

“Good morning, Mommies and Daddy Genius,” He greeted in that chirpy tone, his hand snatching up the top cookie and scarfing it down before she could protest. 

Bugsy shared her snacks all the time, it was a no brainer that they took a bite here and there out of each other's goodies before they could get a smack to the wrist. And Derek had certainly noticed a few of his Rolos missing the last time he bought a pack, and a particularly cheerful Bugsy smirking at him over her desk. 

It wasn’t a huge deal, and yet Bugsy sat up in a gasp, and the entire biscuit tower fell to a crumbling mess on the floor. 

“Well done, princess, Hotch is going to-” Derek stopped mid sentence when he saw her sniffle, and his eyes widened at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears, “Bugsy- are you okay-”

“My cookies! Derek!” She whined pitifully, and she buried her face in her hands, “My cookies, I was so going to eat the shit out of those, they were gonna be so good, Derek,” 

Morgan looked gobsmacked, his head whipping between the woman leaning against the desk with an understanding smile and Spencer who was already rubbing her shoulders with his lips smashed together, trying not to laugh. 

“Honey, it’s okay, he didn’t mean to,” Her partner tried to coo, though he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way Derek scrambled to draw out his wallet. 

“I’ll get you more, Bug, I swear, they sell them by the deli down the street, right?” He asked, jittering in his bones because he’d never made her cry before. He worried or a moment Hotch might just put him on sabbatical leave for such an offense. Emily would probably fly to Virginia just to cave his skull in, “I’m sorry, I’ll go get more, I’ll even get you strawberry milk-”

“Chocolate milk,” She wailed, and JJ slid a box of tissues over to the pitiful girl with a silent snicker. She remembered all too well the feeling of unexplained emotion crashing over her, and she didn’t doubt that the tough faced Bugsy would be back to normal any moment soon.

“Chocolate milk, got it,” Derek said, with a nod, and he all but darted for the elevators, in a hurry Spencer somewhat suspected was down to the fact he feared for his life if Penelope got a whiff of what happened.

Bugsy sniffled for a moment, drawing a tissue out the box and dabbing her eyes sullenly, her feelings slightly worse for wear even if she had a small inkling of doubt that she was really so torn up about the cookies as her body made it seem. 

But she had been thinking about them all morning; made herself promise she would only eat them once she got the stack fifteen high at least. 

“Are you okay, baby?” Spencer asked, his gaze empathetic as she snuffled her sobs into the palm of her hands. He wasn’t too worried, even if he hated seeing her cry just as much as anyone else did. And it wasn’t that he didn’t take her seriously. But when she’d been crying just that morning because her shower gel spilled on the floor and tipped almost all the way out, or even when she’d stepped on a snail walking into the building and smushed it into the ground, effectively killing it, he seemed to be getting used to her mood swings. 

She sniffed woefully, “I was really looking forward to those, and now I think I was too mean to Derek and…” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and the sight of it made Spencer sigh, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head because it must be difficult being so out of your usual self for nine months. 

“And what?” He prompted softly. Only she burst out crying again, reaching forward to drag him into a hug that told him she was feeling extra sorry for herself.

He wouldn’t blame her. Would sit through every weep and sob and tantrum if it meant he got to show her even more times over that he loved her endlessly. 

However he did have to hold in the giggle when she wailed; “I think I really do want strawberry milk,” 

MONTH SIX. The one with the false labour. 

She had been in Hotch’s office when she felt it. 

Embarrassingly so, her first thought was trapped gas. She’d gotten a lot of that considering the baby had decided it craved spice, and had been planning to excuse herself when it felt like her whole abdomen seized as if she’d been hit with a particularly nasty period cramp. 

Her hand flew to her stomach where she sat with Hotch reviewing her latest reports, the same quarterly check the whole team was mandated to have with their boss since Cruz became section chief. Hotch didn’t miss a beat, the folder in his hand hitting the desk in an instant as he tensed, looking at her with caution. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, and she held her breath for a moment. Spencer was out with Rossi giving a lecture in Washington DC, JJ had the day off for her mom’s birthday, Penelope and Morgan were taking Tara to lunch to show her a few more of their regular spots. It was just them and Anderson in the office for the next few hours, possibly the worst time out of any to have an empty floor. 

“Yeah- I just, woah,” Her stomach gave another lurch of a painful twist and her hand slapped on the table to keep herself steady. She breathed through the pain, because she’d had much worse only that wasn’t what was making her heart race. It was fear. Because she wasn’t due for another twelve weeks at least, and while she’d heard of baby’s being born as premature as six months, she knew premy babies suffered major complications later on, let alone the stress their body goes under during the actual birth. 

Bean, as the team had affectionately named the baby since the couple had firmly decided they didn’t want to know the sex, was about the size of red cabbage, tiny in the scheme of things even though it felt like just a few minutes ago they were a grain of rice. 

“Okay, it’s okay, stay calm,” Hotch said in a smooth voice, gentle yet reassuring as he rounded his desk in a flash and put his hand on her shoulder, “Do you feel like you need to use the toilet? Any back ache or irritability?” 

Bugsy breathed out through her nose as her lungs jittered with nerves, “N-no, I don’t need the bathroom, why would that matter?” 

Aaron stroked a large kind hand down her spine, watching her face scrunch in pain for a second time, and he slowly began directing her towards the door, taking small steps so she wasn’t rushing. “Needing to use the bathroom is an early sign of labour, it’s your body's way of helping expand your pelvis to accommodate the head. Any back ache or frustration at all?” 

He didn’t care that he’d had to repeat himself, not even when he was usually so against it, because he could feel the own unease rising in his throat like bile even if he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. 

He would be damned if he let her see how worried he was, and so he swallowed heavily, holding his other hand out for her to take when they approached the stairs. Anderson was on his feet in seconds when he saw his unit chief leading the woman with a tightly concealed frown, fumbling around for his phone. 

“Agent Prentiss?” He exclaimed, darting around the mess of chairs and paper and desks to approach them, “Would you like me to call Dr Reid? An ambulance, perhaps?” 

“She's alright, I’m driving her to the ER, thank you Anderson,” Aaron responded politely, his hand still resting on her back, and the agent nodded, digging around for his keys. 

“I can drive, if you’d like to ride in the back with her,” Grant offered with worried eyes as Bugsy’s face crumpled in agony again, and Hotch’s head whipped to her, and his composure crumbled for a moment. 

“Bugsy, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, honey,” He cooed, and Anderson was quick to open the glass doors, “Did you pack a bag at all-”

“No, Spencer told me I should but I said it was too early, why is that man always right,” She grumbled, her footsteps weary and jittery as the three of them got into the elevator. 

Hotch fought a smile, trying to remember everything he’d memorised before Hailey had Jack. The 5-1-1 rule blared through his head, and he glanced at his watch for a fraction of a second, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to have to write off a company vehicle for the fact his youngest agent gave birth in the back seat. 

“I’m afraid that’s just how Reid operates,” Hotch said, pulling his phone out to dial the man in question and let him know where they were headed, “It’s probably nothing, Hailey was getting cramps all the time once she reached her third trimester, but we’ll get you checked out to be safe,” 

“Really?” She looked at him with pitiful eyes and he nodded with a tight smile, committing to his illusion of calmness even if he swore he hadn’t felt so scared in months. 

Because it wasn’t just Bugsy anymore, it was Bugsy and her baby. Her and Reid’s baby. The two people who deserved their happy ending more so than anyone else he knew. 

And he felt her hand slip into his then as she accepted his answer, in fact she didn’t let go the entire time she waited on Spencer and Aaron was in no rush to leave her side. Even when she lay back on the table and had the midwife checking everything over, he stayed by her head (no doubt to avoid a very awkward conversation), stroked her hair when she fretted through a few more cramps, even when Spencer burst in through the door with Morgan at his heels looking like the two of them had just ran a marathon.

“Is everything okay- what’s wrong- do you need fluids- do you need ice-” Spencer rushed on his odd breath, his chest puffing with inhales, and he pretended he wasn’t seeing stars floating across his vision. 

“I’m assuming by your reaction you’re dad,” The nurse said, pulling off the blue gloves and dropping her mask from her mouth.

“Yes, he is, he’s dad,” Morgan filled in for him as Spencer all but fell back against the wall, because he really should have drank something other than soda and coffee this morning. He was close to swaying on his feet when he stepped over to his girlfriend, and she took his hand in the her own, or atleast the one that wasn’t occupied by Hotch’s tight hold. 

“Don’t worry, everything is alright with mom and baby,” She said, noting down a few things on her chart and the four of them took an audible sigh of relief, “Braxton Hicks contractions are very common in your final trimester, it probably felt like a lot because your baby is moving to into the anterior position ready for birth,” 

Bugsy’s head flopped back against the pillow in comfort and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go back to normal. Braxton Hicks, she should have known. Her head had been fuzzy the past few weeks as it was, but she supposed the moment she’d thought there might be something wrong with the Bean, all of her logic had flown out the window. 

But at least she’d had Hotch to keep her level headed, and-

“Oh my god, Anderson,” She jolted up, her legs stuck in the stirrups the midwife had place her into while she examined everything, “We need to tell Anderson, the poor guy was so worried,”

Hotch chose not to tell her he’d seen Anderson go as white as a ghost the second she’d turned her back, and instead patted her leg as Spencer went to speak to the midwife a little more, no doubt picking apart every single symptom she’d presented in that huge, worried head of his. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Anderson is fine, honey,” He said earnestly, and she looked at him like a kicked puppy, entirely sorry for the panic she’d caused, “Let’s just get you your underwear back, huh?”

MONTH SEVEN. The one where they decorate the nursery.

“What about Elias,” 

“Veto,”

Bugsy pulled a shunned expression as she carefully rolled the wallpaper up the wall. 

“Mason? Niko, stop,” She proposed, one hand on the wall while using the other to push the nosey feline away from the wet paste she’d been brushing on the wall. 

He sat politely at her chide, blinking at her with those big eyes as he watched her work with a twitching tail, almost entertained at the woman who had ballooned up in just a few weeks struggling to do a relatively easy task. 

“Hmm, Mason can go on the bench,” Spencer responded where he was sitting at the other end of the wall doing the same thing only much faster, though she’d argue it was a little easier since he wasn't carrying a large coconut strapped to his stomach.

They’d left the apartment just two weeks ago. Derek had been the one to help them cart their small amount of furniture into the modest house on the outskirts of West Springfield. It was large by Spencer’s standards, even if Bugsy had seen what grandeur looked like in her own childhood homes, but it didn’t matter. Because walls and floors and fancy grand pianos had never bought her love. Yet the first evening they’d spent in their new home they had slept on a mattress on the floor, the list of things to do the following day rattling around their heads. But they had a home. They had the picket fence with the nice school down the road and the bus stop within eyesight of the kitchen where their kid would one day walk to their door with a book bag and glasses like Spencer’s. 

She had never felt like she belonged somewhere until she had a home with him. 

“What about Ada for a girl?” Spencer called over his shoulder, where he had almost caught up to where she was still working on the small patch of wall. The paper was proving frustrating for her swollen fingers, considering the entire thing, when put together, made up a mural of little woodland creatures amidst a forest and left zero room for error, “Named after Ada Lovelace, the woman who pioneered computers,”

Considering it for a moment, she nodded, “That’s pretty. Ada makes top ten,” 

Flipping the last part up to stick against the thick glue, she ran her hands over the seams to be sure it aligned perfectly with the rest of the picture. Satisfied when it matched and a little fox stared down at her, she smiled, tilting her head up where Spencer was standing over her, watching her concentrate. 

“All done!” She chirped, and he bent down to give her a kiss to her puckered lips, sliding a hand beneath her arm to help her up. 

“Looks perfect, you’re really carrying the team honey,” He mused as she got to her feet with a little whine, wrapping her arms around his middle in a proud hug. 

“I know, what would you ever do without me?” 

He laughed, looking at her with an adoring gaze.

The light cracked through the open window, laying over her face delicately. The house was still bare, still in need of carpets and a good dusting, still had leaky pipes and ants in the pantry. Yes, they had a pantry now. But it was a start. It was a home. 

“I say we leave the cradle for another day, baby is calling for frozen grapes again,” She said, rubbing a hand over her protruding belly button and he smiled. Spencer could have sworn he was the luckiest guy in the world when he called her his friend. He thought maybe he should have bought a lottery ticket the same day she told him she loved him. The day she became his girlfriend he thinks he may have died and the past three years have been purely a dream. 

But watching the breeze kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair, watching her eyes rove over the room that would keep their baby safe and warm in just a few weeks, even seeing her smile at him like he had handed her the whole universe in a box when she was the one growing a whole human inside her; Spencer felt like his life was so much better than he ever hoped it would be. 

“Frozen grapes, coming right up,” He said, slipping his fingers in between his to help her down the winding staircase which had been a winner for her immediately. It’s like we have a castle, Spence. “You or the baby could ask for a whole damn ox and I’d give it to you.”

She laughed, holding onto the bannister as they headed downstairs to the kitchen that was in dire need of fresh paint. 

“What if I said baby wants a holiday to Cancun and another cat,” 

“I’d say baby is onto something there,” Spencer said, sweeping her from the final step and giving her a wet kiss to her head, “But first, grapes.”

MONTH EIGHT. The one where she gets cranky.

“Oh my god,” She groaned as she threw herself into her wheely chair, her button up shirt barely accommodating her stomach that was well and truly ready to pop.  

Derek Morgan loved her, he truly loved her like she was one of his sisters, dare say he had loved her since that day he’d carried her out of the church she was held hostage in by Cyrus. He had seen her at her rock bottom, had seen her graduate with flying colours, had even put his job on the line for her; covered her back from a stupid mistake at a bar when she popped a little molly on government pay. 

Derek loved her. He did. But the moment he saw her slump into her chair, her face scrunched up in frustration, he was collecting his mug of coffee and all but bolting for the door and heading straight for Penelope’s lair. 

“Back pain again?” JJ asked, flitting past a very frantic Morgan and heading towards Rossi’s office with a stack of papers in her arms. Bugsy let out something close to a growl in return, and JJ took it as a yes.

“I swear I have been pregnant for years,” She huffed, barely reaching over to where her keyboard sat at her desk. Tara nudged it forward for her to grab, because it seemed like she was on her breaking point enough as it was, and received a brief nod of thanks “I can’t remember a time when my back didn’t hurt, or my boobs were aching or my head wasn’t all fuzzy and weird and- OH for the love of god SWITCH ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” 

JJ’s brows raised as the keyboard mouse went flying off the side of her desk in protest, rolling straight past where Hotch and Spencer were strolling through the office, her boyfriend carrying the biggest Strawberry Milkshake he could find on this side of town. 

If Hotch wanted to say anything about her damaging property, he thought it smarter to keep his mouth shut as she swivelled to face the two of them, her expression already irritated by the worried stare they shot her way. 

“What?” She said with a bite, and Spencer raised his hands in surrender, which left her gaze to slide to Hotch. 

And Hotch loved her too, loved her more than he would ever admit. But he swore he the second her eyes clamped on his, Aaron Hotchner considered an exorcism might be necessary. 

“What, what are you staring at me for?” She snapped, throwing her hands out like a bratty teenager, and Hotch cleared his throat before he spoke, something embarrassingly close to fear shaking his vocal chords.

“Have you given any more thought to maternity leave, yet?” He asked and her eye twitched, and it was as if he saw the stapler was next on her list of things to send flying off the table, preferably straight at his head. “I would be more than happy to pull some strings so you take longer off after the baby is born, maybe even Spencer could start his paternity early-”

“What?” She said for a third time, like she was a broken record. And she knew she was being unfair, perhaps even cruelly so. But she would make it up to them later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Her underwear rode up and pinched where her uterus had begun to drop, her trousers itched for whatever reason, her face was hot from just walking from the elevator to her chair and that was just since she’d entered the office. She hadn’t got much energy for showers anymore and so washing her hair became some ugly affair where Spencer got in with her and did it for her, only last time he put a little too much product on and got the suds in her eyes and they had spent twenty minutes rinsing her face, naked and dripping wet, over the sink. She felt awful, awful for how she was being so irrationally rude, but it was like every inch of her being was uncomfortable. And there was still another month to go.

“Good god, man, don’t poke the bear,” Tara hummed as she passed, taking her own half full mug to the kitchen to escape whatever was rumbling in that hot head of hers. 

Hotch swallowed heavily, noticing how Spencer stayed deadly quiet no doubt because he’d learned his lesson in trying to force Bugsy into doing something when she was like this, “I’m saying I think it would be good for you to take some time off, you’ve both worked hard enough as it is and with the baby being so close, it would be good to take it easy for a few weeks-” 

She pressed her lips together, because she knew he was probably trying to help, probably trying to be considerate, and yet the heat of annoyance bubbled up inside her all the same like a kettle on the precipice of boiling.

“If you want the big scary pregnant lady out of your way just spit it out, Hotch,” She snapped, scowling at him in a way he remembered Hailey doing when he so much as sneezed too loud.

And he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at her. Because anyone with eyes saw she was uncomfortable, he knew if she was anything like his own ex-wife then she wouldn’t be sleeping nearly as much as she should, that more than likely their kid would be already kicking with long, scrawny legs to get out and show the world what they were made of. 

Hotch was saved from the firing line when his guess was proved almost immediately, and she groaned with a hand to her abdomen. 

“Spencer, would you tell your kid they’re not a linebacker and that my kidneys aren’t the damn ball,” She complained, and her partner flashed her a brave smile, leaning over her to rub where she was caressing her battered organs. 

“Actually, right about here will be your spleen since the baby has pushed everything around at this stage-” And with that Hotch darted towards his office because Bugsy looked ready to clip someone around the ear, and he didn’t have the heart to write her up for it.

Although for the sanctity of his team, he rushed her documents through the same afternoon and gave her an extra four weeks pay in lieu of a truce. 

MONTH NINE. The one with the birth.

It had been fourteen hours already when the doctor mentioned the word caesarean. 

“Caesarean? We never planned for a C-section,” Bugsy’s eyes widened where she was intermittently sucking down gas and air, Spencer patting her forehead down with an ice wet cloth. 

But then again she supposed she had never planned to go into labour when getting the laundry off the washing line while Spence painted the porch. 

He looked at her with nervous hazel hues where her face sparkled with sweat and water, her hand squeezing him tightly as another contraction hit. 

“I’m afraid we have few options left, Miss Prentiss,” The midwife said, a woman around her age that was already masked up after prodding around her cervix for a few hours, “Fourteen hours is rough on anyone and we’re not seeing any movement past your pelvis. Any longer and you or your baby might be at risk,”

And it was the truth, but it was a harsh one, and tears sprung to her eyes hearing those last few words. She had never had any delusions it would be easy giving birth, it was revered as the most painful thing anyone could go through, but she had assumed on a hope and a prayer that things would go smoothly. 

“I know it’s scary,” Spencer found his voice after a second, their hands clasped tightly together because there was more chance of snow in hell than there was he was letting her do this alone, “But, baby, you’re doing so well, and you’re almost there,” He said in a watery sweet tone, dabbing at her brow once more and the two of them exchanged a teary look, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay, they’re going to numb you for the whole thing and when it’s over we’re going to have our baby, huh?” 

She smiled ruefully because he was trying desperately to cheer her up, even though it sounded like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was her.

And she nodded, because she knew he was right, and more than anything she wanted their baby to be safe, even if it meant having her insides scooped out like she was some russian nesting doll. 

“O-okay, yeah, c-can Spencer stay with me?” She asked nervously, and the midwife smiled, pressing a button to call for the anesthesiologist.

“Ofcourse, honey. Just try to relax, we’re going to arrange an epidural for you,” She said in a voice that told Bugsy she’d practised staying calm in an emergency a thousand times. 

Bugsy breathed through her nose, feeling Spencer swoop in to wipe the lone few tears dribbling down her cheeks. 

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice bustling with nerves and she wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him she loved him more than ever for trying to put a brave face on for her sake. But she couldn’t, so she nodded frantically, leaning her forehead against his cheek and taking a few more deep breaths. 

–

“You’re doing great, honey, you’re being so brave,” Spencer reassured in his biggest voice, his hand carding over the side of her hot face gently. There was blood, there was so much blood, and the sound of her monitor was the only sound that was constant and not at all worrying with its steady heart beat. 

The midwives were flitting around the room, the lead obstetrician making careful incisions and handing various things Spencer didn’t want to see over to his co-workers. Because he loved their baby already, couldn’t wait to meet the mini him he’d been dreaming about since he was a boy himself, but Bugsy needed him first. She was his everything, his whole life, his whole universe fading between clear consciousness and a slightly loopy gaze as she relaxed on the table. 

“Is it over? Are they here, are they okay?” She slurred, looking over at him where his hair was covered in a blue scrub cap, his entire body wrapped in protective uniform to minimise the risk of infection on her body. 

He cradled her face again, shaking his head, “Not yet honey, you’re doing so good, it’s nearly over,” Spencer said, pressing his brow against hers because he had a mask over his mouth and couldn’t kiss her properly, “I love you so much, I swear I’ll try every day of my life to repay you,” 

“You’re being mushy, you’re freaking me out,” She joked as if she was her regular self, because the midwives had all warned him that the sedatives would take the edge off her nerves. And he chuckled, even if he was worrying enough for the two of them, sniffling behind the stuffy mask he had to keep on until she was in recovery. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to be okay,” Spencer said earnestly, and he pressed a kiss to her head anyway even if she wouldn’t feel it with his mask, “I’m gonna get you so many milkshakes when this is-”

There was a wail behind the curtain they had draped over her stomach, and both their breaths stopped in their chests. 

“Is that…” Bugsy started, her eyes wide and alert even if seconds ago she had been almost drunk, “Is that it- is that them?”

And another scream resounded around the room as if to answer her. 

Spencer swore he had never felt tears well in his eyes so fast until one of the midwives brought a wriggling, wrinkly bundle around the curtain, and within seconds he felt his cheeks sodden with tears. 

“Oh my god,” He said his smile reaching his eyes as the little creature was put on Bugsy’s chest, and it was only then he realised she was weeping too and he resumed his position stroking her head, “It’s a-”

“It’s a girl! Spencer, we have a girl!” Bugsy’s grin went from ear to ear, her eyes round and adoring at the ugly, scrunched face still screaming at them, her eyes closed and her skin covered in a white goop, “Oh my god, she’s so beautiful,” 

“I told you she’d take after you,” Spencer said, not minding the nurses sewing Bugsy up as they stared at their little girl, Bugsy’s arms holding her body weight delicately though she didn’t quite know what she was doing. 

Spencer was quick to remove the mask once they cleared him to, and the second he was freed he pushed his lips to his girlfriend’s, their mouths equally as salty and sodden as one another with the way their cheeks washed with tears. Pulling away, he looked at her in the eyes, the same eyes he’d always loved, the same eyes he’d know in any life, in any world, in any fog, and their smiles were damn near blinding. 

“I love you so much, I swear I’m going to make it up to you, anything you want,” Spencer said, kissing her again, his hand resting over hers where she held their baby girl on her bare chest. 

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had everything she’d ever wanted right there with her. 

“I love you so much more, Spencer,” She said quietly, the two of them pulling away when the little girl squealed again and they chuckled, quickly rushing to calm her cries as they looked at her as if they had yet to realise she was real and she was theirs, “Oh my god Spencer, you’re a daddy,”

“Bugsy, you’re a mommy,” He said with raised brows and she gasped, giggling with glee as her free hand flew to grab his face and pull him in to kiss her again, “We’re a mommy and daddy,” 

The two of them burst out laughing even though overjoyed tears lined their eyes again, and Spencer trailed a large finger down her chubby cheek softly, her skin shrivelled and pruney like she’d been submerged in a bath for too long. 

“Spencer, she’s perfect,” She said after a moment, her breath completely stolen when she took her in, the small head completely covered in dark hair, which she had already suspected would be there from the amount of times she found herself itching at her stomach. Her tiny fists waved in the air as her sobs subsided, beginning to warm up to the skin on Bugsy’s chest, and Spencer audibly choked in a cry of his own when her eyelids slowly blinked open and revealed forest hues damn near identical to his own. He pushed his temple to Bugsy’s again as she carefully swayed her from side to side.

“I’m never going to let anything hurt you,” He murmured, his breath warm on her collarbone and his baby girl stared back at him like she understood, even though he knew that was pretty much  impossible, “Either of you,” 

Bugsy sniffled with a wobbly smile, her hands shaking as she held her daughter up, “Do you want to hold her?” 

Spencer looked ready to wail all over again, not that she would ever hold it against him. The two of them had been weeping all day, and their kid was a real tear jerker to look at with her thick lashes and wide eyes. 

He was quick to pop open his shirt, holding his hands out nervously as she placed the baby in his arms, his fingers supporting under her head the whole time he brought her to his chest. 

Bugsy smiled, the midwife checking in with her for a moment before they were ready to wheel her into the other room to rest up, while Spencer looked entirely enamoured with the little bundle in his arms. 

He was a dad. He had made this beautiful, perfect little girl with the woman he loved more than anything in the world, and somehow she had given him even more reasons to feel so lucky. 

“Hello, you,” He said through bleary eyes, smiling through a chuckle when he saw just how tiny she looked in his arms, and he had never seen anything look so fragile, “I’m going to try be the best dad you could ever have, okay? I’m gonna be there for all the lame parties, and the sleepovers and the big games and every single time you need help on your homework, I’m gonna be right there with you.” 

“What name are we putting on the chart?” The midwife asked as Bugsy watched Spencer murmur to the sweet face that looked up at him in wonder, “Or is it just Baby Girl Prentiss for the moment?” 

“It’s Reid,” Bugsy said with a smile, as Spencer poured even more of his gentle heart out in promises she knew he would keep until the day he died. And she knew without checking with him the name they chose weeks ago was perfect; the one they’d decided on just a few days after the nursery was finished and she had yet another bowl of frozen grapes to chow down on while they admired their work. 

One for his mother, one for Emily. 

“Ana Emilia Reid,”

–

taglists:

TROUBLE 

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[babyleostuff]

. . . praising the hhu for the “lalali” MV

[🍒] choi seungcheol

ugh, this man would be so smug (he’s a leo after all), you would not be able to wipe that annoying smirk off his face for the rest of the day (he’d probably fall asleep with it too). choi seungcheol lives for the praise and it makes his ego skyrocket (as it should because he’s the best), but he’d be so annoying with it. he’d follow you everywhere and be like “oh, so you loved the earrings that much?” or “tell me again how good i look with those green highlights”. man would be unstoppable. but deep inside he’s kind of freaking out because “omg omg omg they loved me in the MV” *heart eyes*. (and he’s a lil cutie patootie so at the end of the day when you’re laying in bed he cuddles closer to you, and is like “did i really look that good?)

[🍒] jeon wonwoo

(this era belongs to wonwoo change my mind) 

he knew you’d go fucking feral over him in this MV, i mean the visuals, the outfits, the attitude, THE RAP - come on, there was no way you wouldn’t end up screaming at every scene with him. he was especially excited for you to see the “mafia boss” scene with him, since he knows how much you love the jeon “actor” wonwoo agenda. and he was not let down in the slightest. at first his plan was to tease you over your reaction, but he found it hard to do it since you looked adorable (and low key crazy) fangirling over him in the MV. like, you’re really cute for getting excited over a barely three minute video, jumping around the room, and screaming like a maniac, so he just ends up looking at you fondly as you rewatch the MV for the tenth time.

[🍒] kim mingyu

he wasn't sure if he should have warned you before you played the MV about his naked tiddie scene because he was afraid you would fall off the couch and hurt yourself. like, he knew exactly what your reaction would be on that scene, so he wanted to avoid any accidents if he could. but, to his surprise, you sat through the whole MV in silence, and when it ended you simply laid on the floor, and he was like??? you good??? and then, as if the reality hit you, mingyu got what he wanted - you yapping about every single thing you found hot in this MV (which was everything), at one point you started even hitting him and yelling at him for being so handsome. all mingyu could do was to laugh because he knew that this was your way of showing your appreciation. another annoyingly smug one, ugh (not only is he tall and big as hell, but his ego is even bigger, he’s so annoying seriously).

[🍒] vernon chwe

he’s kind of like “do i really look that good?” but then he looks at you, and your excited reaction, and goes “yeah, i guess i am that cool.” he just really appreciates your reaction, and all of your compliments, and wild screams, and incoherent words - whatever comes his way he soaks it up like a sponge because hearing that praise from you makes him feel so so good. and ohmy he loves your reaction to the middle finger scene, the way you laugh and your excited “let’s go” makes him smile like an idiot, though he gets a bit shy too. he just truly feels blessed for having someone who will praise him so much over a MV like it’s the biggest masterpiece to ever exist.

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summery: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[rafesslxt]

What are friends for? | Theodore Nott

summary: y/n and theo are best friends. she need‘s a little help to make a boy jealous, who ignores her. so what are friend for if not for helping each other?

warning: smut, smoking, drinking, best friends to lovers, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral

words: 3,7k

notes: my first smut!! english is not my first language, tell me If there is something to correct, I don‘t speak italian I used a translator, request are open 🫶🏻✨

have fun reading <3

— ✨

" It's like I'm not even there anymore! " I huffed and let my body fall onto Pansy's bed. " Maybe Blaise needs a little reminder that you're not some toy to play with. Show him that there are plenty of boys who want a piece of you. " She was right, but I couldn't bring it over my heart to led one poor guy on just to make Blaise jealous. We ain't even official. We just went on some dates and I thought that he really liked me, but now he ghost me at every chance he gets.

" I don't want to break a heart just for that. He's not worth it. Maybe I should jut let it - " " No no no! I have an idea! Why don't you ask one of the boys?" Pansy asked, right on point because a second later, Mattheo came into Pansy's room. " Whats up? Playing all by yourselfs?" he teased and threw his bag into the corner of the room. " We need somebody for y/n to make Blaise jealous. He acts like a total ass!" He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

" Why don't you ask Theo? Think he would be perfect for that." he smiled at me and then at Pansy. " Oh my god yes! That's a win win! You totally liked him a few months ago!" Pansy babbled out. " Pansy!" Mattheo's grin widened. " Really? Well, then I think he's more than perfect."

I sighed and stood up. " I can't ask him. What If he say's no? That would be so embarrassing and I don't want him to think I'm that desperate."

To be honest, I still liked Theodore more than any other guy. We were best friends since we first saw each other when we got sorted into our houses. It clicked instantly. And the older we got, the more of a crush developed inside of me for him. I'm just scared that he doesn't like me as much as I like him. What If he thinks this is weird and cuts our friendship? So I just kept it for myself, and Pansy.. and now Mattheo. 

" Hey why are you all in Pansy's room? I was looking for ya'll." All the hairs on my body raised when I heard his voice coming through the door. " Oh you know, we were just talking about the party tonight and how Y/n is looking for a date." Pansy answered him before I could even say something.

" A date? " he asked irritated. " What about Blaise? Thought you had something going on with him?" And again, before I could answer, Pansy did. " Oh he is a total and stupid ass! He ghosts her so we need a new one to make him jealous. But good you are here now." She smiled at her last own words.

" What do you mean by that? " he asked suspicious of her words. " Come on Mattheo, let's go I'm hungry."  Both of them left the room, but not before Mattheo winked at me. " What the hell are they talking about?" Shit, I can't do this. I’m already freaking out inside, how am I supposed to ask him for such a favor?

" Bella, what is it? Are you okay?" he asked and sat beside me on the bed. " Uhm you know.. like Pansy said I - I need someone for the party. " I looked up at him, he always looked so confident and handsome. " And Blaise is going to be there and Pansy thought - I mean you know Pansy - " I tried to laugh it off. " She thinks it would be good for me to show Blaise that there are other boys that want me." I cringed at my own words. Damn, but everybody in our friendgroup knew how I got a love letter like every week from a new boy. " Why don't you ask one then?"

" That's the thing, I don't want to hurt somebody just to get my way. And I don't think I would be that comfortable with a boy I don't really - " "Then let me do it." My jaw almost fell to the floor. " What? " " Yeah why not? We know each other since first grade, you're my best friend and I would love to see that pissed off look on his stupid face." " Wow, uhm okay - uh let's discuss this while eating with Pansy and Mattheo, yeah?" " Fine for me."

We found our friends at the table in the hall, already eating. I told them how Theo would help me and asked for ideas, cause to be honest, I didn't have one fucking Idea how to do this.

" But let me tell you, I'm not in for the soft shit, that won't work on him." Theo said to our surprise. " Yeah that's my boy!" Mattheo cheered and shook his shoulder. " Oh I got it! Listen up!" Pansy said and told us her plan.

At the party

To say I was frustrated was understated. I did everything Pansy told me. I was close to Theo all the time, his hands around me, all over me. Which gave me such a hard time to concentrate on the real mission. We danced closely, he whispered words into my ear, making me giggle, but nothing worked. And If nothing worked, I had to face Theo's Plan for the night.

But let me tell you, I'm not in for the soft shit, that won't work on him. 

The party went well, but it got later and later and more and more of the students went to sleep. Theo kept giving me looks that were supposed to tell me it was time, but I was way too nervous. Another hour went by and it was just Pansy, Mattheo, Draco, Enzo, Blaise and some girl he had brought from Ravenclaw, in the room. They all sat by the fireplace, spread out on the couch and floor. There where 2 couches, one with Blaise and his new girl and Draco on it. On the floor Enzo and Pansy. Mattheo sat on the second couch.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Blaise close with a brunette, her sitting on his lap and giggling. My whole body got hot from anger.

I searched for one specific person in the room. And when I saw him, our final plan was set. Firewhiskey in my hand, i emptied like a pro the set my nerves free.

I rushed towards my best friend and grabbed him by his shirt, dragging him with me to the couch Mattheo sat on before he could even think about it. " Woah, not that I'm complaining or anything but what has gotten into you?" he asked.

" Do you see that?" I said and stopped. I nodded over to Blaise and the girl, who was whispering something into his ear. " What the fuck.." Theo said in confusion. "I know! That fucker has the audacity to ghost me all day and then this shit? No no no. Definetly Plan B."

" And how do you want to do it exactly?“ he asked. " I want you to fuck him out of my head If he‘s not talking to me." Yeah, that was 100% the firewhiskey. But Theo didn’t even protest. We arrived at the couch and sat down together.

Pansy lit up a J in her hands and started to smoke. " Where is Enzo? He wanted to share." Kiara asked Mattheo after taking her first big drag. " If you want to I share with you." I said before thinking about it. Theo‘s head shot in my direction. " You sure? That's the muggle stuff, hits a little bit harder. "

" I want some too." Draco interrupted. " Yeah I'm sure. Give me some after Draco. " Theo didn't stop looking at me. He knew that I tried smoking a view months ago but he also knew that I didn't like taking drugs. After Dray took his first puff, he gave it to me. He coughed a litte bit. After I took it from him he lets himself fall against the armrest of the couch.

I took one strong pull, inhaled it deep into my lungs and exhaled it after a few seconds without coughing. " Wow that was impressive." Pansy laughed as she saw how I smoked without one little cough. I gave it to Mattheo, knowing he liked to smoke sometimes.

We shared it for a few minutes until it was done. I felt a hand on my thigh, playing with the hem of my skirt. I looked at Theo who already looked at me and lowered his head to my ear.

 " You know I would love to have you all for myself but do you think that's a good idea? What If it does not work and you regret it?" I got closer to his face, almost touching his lips with mine. " Then I'm so done with him. I tried everything, and every time he finds a way to fuck it up, so yes Theo, I am sure. And If you don't want to take me upstairs and fuck my soul out of my body I will find someone else to do it, so? " He licked his lips and scanned my whole face to make sure If I'm 100 percent sure. 

" Distruggerò il tuo piccolo corpo perfetto, principessa. " ( I'm gonna destroy that perfect little body of yours, princess. ) he growled smiling devilish. "I still can speak italian, Theo."

He slammed his lips into mine and put his hands all over my body. I moaned into his mouth, which turned him on even more. He scooped his hands under my ass and sat me on his lap, where I could feel how hard he already was. " Did my words affect you that much huh?" I smiled at him which he just returned with pressing his hips into mine even more. 

" One part of me hopes it all works out and you get happy and shit, the other part of me hopes he stay's an idiot so I can have you to myself. " he admitted quiet, just for my ears to hear.

" You love the affect you're having on me right?" I just nodded with my head and started to grind painfully slow on him. To be honest after smoking that J with them, I kind of lost my shame, knowing they were probably knocked out already, which means they didn't give a fuck about me and Theo grinding on each other. I couldn't see Blaise’s face as my back was in front of him, but I hoped he would just feel as angry as I did. I swung my hair over my shoulder, where I saw Pansy and Draco getting out of the common room, Pansy winking at me.

" Continue doing that and I'm gonna fuck you right in front of him." " You wouldn't" I dared him, but I should have known better to be honest.

He grabbed me by my waist and crashed me with my back into the couch, getting on top of me. " What did you say?" I smiled sheepishly at him as he lowered his head to my neck where he started to place soft kisses all over my already hot skin. " Okay lovebirds, I'm gonna go and find Enzo." Mattheo said, being the only one left. " Have fun y/n. " he smiled and winked at me just like Pansy did. While Theo started to place his hand slowly under my skirt I turned my head in Blaise’s direction.

That son of a bitch started to make out with her, hands on her ass but his eyes concentrated on me. I moaned loud enough for him to hear as Theo's second hand wrapped around my neck. Blaise groped that girl harder, pressing her hips against his, never losing eye contact with me.

Funny thing was, I knew he didn't enjoy it that much, you could see it on his face. Me on the other hand, I really was enjoying myself. Theo knew all the right spots on my body, even tho a few hours ago I wished it was Blaise instead. I hissed when he sucked on my left boob, which was almost exposed due to my excuse of a top.

My eyes fixed on Blaise again, until Theo turned my head to his face. " How far do you want me to go ? Because I meant what I said, I would fuck you into this couch for hours while he's watching." he asked a little bit quieter. My breathing was heavy, clearly turned on. " Fuck I don't know. He's watching me the whole time I don't think he's gonna keep that facade up for long." " That was not my question, amore." " I trust you Theodore." For a moment I looked at him and saw my best friend again. " But If he doesn't stop it with her, I won't too. So do whatever you want." I smiled at his expression, completely turned on by now and ready to give it all.

" You're gonna regret that." he whispered against my lips before he took my lip between his teeth, making me moan and shake. I closed my eyes and tried not to think too much of Blaise anymore. If he wanted me, he would say something, but I'm not the one who's gonna back down.

"Sei proprio un puttana per me." ( You are such a little whore for me. ) I smiled at his dirty words.

His right hand was already under my skirt, his left hand now cupped my left boob under my top, playing with my nipple. " Fuck Theo, please." I whimpered, arching my back. My hands wandered under his shirt and over his hard abs. Damn, he really was made by the gods.

At that point Blaise was long forgotten and my longing for Theo got bigger by any second. " What do you want, principessa? " His right hand left my skirt to pull my top completely down, so anyone who would pass by, could see me half naked. His lips wandered just above my right nipple. " What do you want, y/n?" he asked again. " Y-your mouth.. want your mouth o-on me - oh yes." I groaned as he wrapped his plump lips around my nipple, sucking and licking it. He was so good at what he did, I almost didn't notice Blaise standing up und leaving the fireplace. 

Theo did too and stopped to my dismiss. " Do you want to stop?" he asked, out of breath, clearly turned on too. " Hell no, I want you to fuck me Theo, please." " Shit I love it when you beg, beg more and maybe I'm gonna give you what you want."

I swallowed all my pride and let go. " Please fuck me Theo, I want to feel you. I wanna feel your lips all over me, please. I'm so hot I can't take it anymore. Just do something." That was all he needed to hear from me. He janked my skirt down my legs and threw it across the place.

His face now in front of my throbbing pussy. " Fuck, you're all wet, just for me huh?" He pressed his lips against my clit, covered by my panties. My brain stopped working from there on. " You smell so fucking good. Such a little slut, letting me touch you in the middle of the common room. You like that? You like the risk at getting caught? " He teared my panties apart and threw them to my skirt. " Theo! They were new!" I frowned.

" After that we're gonna sneek out tomorrow and I'll buy you everything you want as long as you wear it only for me." I nodded and whimpered again as his head came closer and closer to my heat. I wiggled in his grip, crazy for some kind of friction. Finally he started to lick my pulsing clit in a fast rhythm, making me scream his name. " Shit, just like that! " I gripped his soft hair, pressing his face harder into my pussy.

" I wish you would have asked me sooner to help you, your pussy tastes so good I never want to taste something else in my entire life." he mumbled against my hot skin. My heart throbbed too at his words. Not long after that, he started to suck hard on my clit, fingering my hole to prepare it.

My stomach twisted and I felt a strong feeling inside of me. He must have felt it too 'cause he moved his mouth and fingers even faster now. " Are you coming? Fuck, come on my tongue baby, please." he whimpered slightly which gave me the rest and so I came hard, my whole body twitching snd shaking again. He groaned at the taste and pulled himself up again, smiling at me. " That was good?" he asked and kissed me before I could answer, making me taste myself on his lips.

I felt him again against my leg. " I want to make you feel good too." I whispered as my hand slid down his jeans, pressing it against him. He groaned and the feeling, letting his head fall down. With my other hand I opened his Jeans and pulled it down with his help.

" I'm so hard because of you. Can't even think about something else but fucking you into this couch all night long. " " Then do it, fuck me stupid." I said grinning.

He took off his boxer and positioned himself at my entrance. He looked at me to make sure I was ready. "Please, can't wait any longer too." He rubbed his tip against my clit, which was still sensitive from my last orgasm. "Hmm Theo, I need you inside of me, now."

"Turn around, I want to fuck you from behind. Wanna see that ass." I turned around and got on all fours. " Yeah just like that.. now ass up and face down principessa." I did as he told me and waited for his touch again.

" God I wish I could frame this sight right into my head forever." he mumbled and took his cock into his hands, rubbing it against my clit again, spreeding all the wetness. I inhaled sharply as he pressed his cock into me. I wrapped my arms around the cushions beside my head, moaning loudly. " Fuck yes, that tight little pussy feels so good, all for me, right?" he asked me but I was so knocked out inside my head that I didn't answer. Until I felt a sharp sting on my ass. He fucking slapped my ass, making me moan again. "Yes!"

" Shit, you like that? " he slapped my ass again, harder this time and started moving faster, making my ass slap against his hips. I screamed at the feeling of him reaching my g spot." Oh my god yes Theo, right there!" He fucked me like there was no tomorrow, wrapping his hand around my throat and pressing his cheek against mine.

" I want you to never look or even think of that motherfucker again, you understand? It's me who fucks you like this. It's me whose name you're screaming into the cushions which are laying on the couch, that I'm fucking you right now into. Every time from now on you come to me If you want your tight little pussy fucked. Do. You. Under. Stand?" he asked with each thrust. 

" Oh bella I feel you squirming around my cock, are you close again? Did that turn you on? You like being manhandled like that?" "Hmm y-yes please make me come again. I need it so bad." I knew I couldn't hold it for any longer. I was so close to my second orgasm.

" Beg me to cum baby, come on. Beg me and I'll let you come so hard you'll see stars." I was away just a few moment from my high, feeling it in my stomach again. " Oh my god Theo please fuck me! Make me cum p-please!" " Who is making you cum baby ? Tell me! Scream as loud as you can, that bastard shall hear  you coming on my dick." He started to draw circles on my clit and tightened his hand around my throat which pushed me over the line a second time. " It's you Theo, it was alway you, fuck!" I cried out.

My orgasm hit me so hard, that I in fact, saw black and little stars before my eyes. " Mgh fuck- I'm gonna fucking explode all over you. " I clenched around him which made him finally cum. " Fuuck.." he let his head fall in my neck und jerked his cock in his hand until he came all over my ass and back. He had cum on his fingers, holding it in front of my mouth. " Open up, amore."

I did as he told me to and opened my mouth, sucking on his cum covered fingers. His lips slightly parted as he watched me. " I am so not ready with you. Next round's in the shower. " he smirked as he wiped his cum off me with his shirt.

" I meant what I said, it was always you. " I said softly, hoping he would finally admit his feelings for me. " Really? Are you sure it wasn't just so Blaise would - " " No Theo - " I started to turn around, facing him again. " I liked you way before Blaise, I was just scared that you wouldn't feel the same for me. I tried to forget you and move on, so I started this thing with Blaise. But my heart always wanted you. "

"Allora lascia che io abbia il tuo cuore per sempre." (Then let me have your heart forever.) He kissed me softly, holding my face in both his hands. 

"Ti amo." ( I love you. )

"Anch'io ti amo, cara mia. " ( I love you too, my dear. )

—

hope u liked reading it, thankful for every like. 🫶🏻

My request are open If you‘re interested.

xoxo sarah 🤍

[jarofstyles]

Dress

Hellooo. Here is a best friends sister sorta request- h is best friends with your brother 👀 and he’s tired of hiding 👀 I think this is a one off, maybe a two off if I’m feeling spicy.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings! (Sign up on your browser and not the ISO app to avoid any stupid Apple fee my loves)

Words- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(don’t do stuff in public pls), dirty talk, soft dom!h, slight angst, slight mention of violence, people pleasing tendencies, etc etc etc

———

"I just wish things were different. I wish we didn't have to hide. I wish your brother knew about us. This sneaking around shit… it’s getting old. I don’t like having to pretend you aren’t the only fuckin’ thing I’m thinking about."

“I know…” The dark corner of the club was their solace. The humid air from the sea breeze leaked into the club around them and overly loud and slightly dated music being the unlikely reprove to having to keep up appearances through the last few days. Harry’s family always came with them on this vacation out to the islands and it used to be hell on earth. Each year she had tried her hardest to tamper down her crush, but now she didn’t have to.

Well, not unless their families were around.

With her brother in his own room, Harry had volunteered to take Y/N out as a ’chaperone’ of sorts and in turn, gave her a real taste of what it would be like if they didn’t have to hide their relationship- but she wasn’t exactly ready for the explosive way she knew her brother would react. He took things incredibly personally sometimes, but she was doing her best to try and not let it scare her too much. Harry was right- it was getting old. incredibly so, but it was hard to let go of her peacemaker mentality. She’d adopted it her whole life to keep the peace, diffuse situations, and now that she had finally found happiness with someone- it happened to be the one person that she knew he was going to freak out over.

“We need to tell him eventually, I know that. But I just…” Her fingers tangled in his necklaces, the alcohol making it easier to be emotionally vulnerable for once. “I don’t want to ruin it. Don’t want him to scare you away.”

Harry's heart ached as he looked at Y/N. He knew she was right, but the thought of hiding their relationship made him feel sick. Tired, even. He didn’t like having to watch his hands, where he was looking. He should be able to room with his girlfriend. It wasn’t like their parents hadn’t been rooting for it for ages, but he tried to understand where she was coming from.

Maybe it was a bit of the rose colored glasses keeping him from seeing what she did, but he didn’t feel the need to valiantly protect her brother from the knowledge that he was dating her. "I don't want to hide either, darling." He said softly. “M’not going to let anything come between us, especially not him." His hand slid up her thigh, wrapping around to the back of it and flexing his fingers.

"Your brother might piss me off when finds out, but only because he's probably, definitely going hit me. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise you that." His face grew more serious. "I don’t know how to make you understand that I am not afraid of him. I’ve been his mate for years. I know what he’s like but respectfully, he’s going to need to get over it and realize that I only have the best intentions..."

“I know.” She repeated, the humid air hitting her neck as she pushed bed hair off her shoulder, craning it to look up at him. It was unfair how handsome he was, with his curls sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and the light shadow of facial hair since he had missed shaving yesterday. “I just… I know it’s selfish, but I want to spend tonight imagining he already knows and we don’t have to worry about anything. That no one would be all… shocked or even say anything if I do this.” Leaning up, she lightly pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before settling back on her feet, lips slowly separating. Harry made no move to pull away from her. If anything, he followed.

Harry's eyes shifted as he watched her, his heart picking in his chest. He loved the way she thought, the way she imagined a world where they didn't have to hide. Never once did he imagine himself to be one of those lovesick fuckers, but here he was again. Swooning over a goddamn kiss.

But really, who could blame him? He loved the way she kissed him, all soft and sweet and so damn gentle, like she was still a little hesitant he would say no even though they’d kissed dozens and dozens of times- stolen them right under everyone’s noses. As if he could ever say no- his body wouldn’t ever allow that. It was all greedy for her, had no capacity, no ability to deny her if anything when it came to telling his girl no. "Then let's imagine.”

Sinewy arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her back into their hidden corner, the music pumping around them and his body hiding her from the crowd.. "Let's imagine that your brother knows and he's okay with it. That he's even happy for us." He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin. “A little grossed out, because I think that you are… the most beautiful, incredible, sweet woman I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing… but that would only be the truth.”

“You really think that about me?” Her voice spoke solely to him. In their seclusion, people were still passing by, but no one paid attention. No one cared. To the rest of them, it looked like a young couple too loved up to keep hands off of each other. In most ways, that was the truth. Who knew invisibility could be such a gift at times?

Harry chuckled against her throat, his breath hot on her sticky skin. She smelled like sunscreen and that tequila sunrise she had accidentally splashed on herself, so a bit of orange juice and grenadine. Edible, summer, he wanted to sink into her and melt. "Of course I do." The man scoffed, his hands slowly roaming over her body as if he couldn't help himself. "And if your brother knew about us, I'd tell him exactly that. That I want you… and I want t’make you my girl properly. But that’s probably where it would stop, because I think he’d want to kill me if he knew what ran through my head when I get to see you.” Harry knew it was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader, and that they’d gotten away with it for a bit so far. Yeah, he’d be taking a punch because he knew how Harry’s mind worked but he didn’t know that he fucking loved her- that this shit was different.

“Well… since we’re pretending all is right in the world right now…” Her hands splayed across his chest, chin tilted up as he pulled away from her throat. Starry eyes glazed over in love peering up just at him, not knowing she was the one he was orbiting. “Why don’t you enlighten me on the things you wouldn’t tell him?”

Harry's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at her. "You really want to know, sweets?" He crooned, his voice low and sultry. "Alright then." His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him so she could feel just how much he wanted her.

"First... I'd never tell him that I think about you all the time. Like... right now, I'm imagining wrapping your legs around my waist and backing you up against that wall over there." His eyes flicked to the wall behind her before meeting her gaze again. "And how bad I want t’kiss you until you barely have any breath, make you borrow some of mine."

Y/N felt her breathing pick up, ironically enough, feeling trapped in the best way. Whenever Harry was around her she sort of wanted him to smother her, in a weird sort of way. it was hard to explain but close never felt close enough. Harry just had this sort of… way about him that had her itching to get close and bask in his own kind of warmth. It soothed her bones.

"N’then once you caught up, I'd keep kissing you until you were panting, so that cute little giggle that turns into that sexy moan that you do. Fuckin’ love that." he continued, his voice growing deeper as he showed little restraint with his words. It was easy to forget where they were when he got started. "And then... " He trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck again, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I probably shouldn't tell you the rest."

“Tell me.” She whined, in a way only tipsy Y/N wouldn’t feel shame for. “Please, baby?” Something she’d noticed was how strongly he did react to those little pet names so she kept them sparse, but seeing how he reacted always acted as a reward. “You can tell me. I want to know.”

He groaned low in his throat at the nickname, nipping at her earlobe before whispering to her the rest of the details he had been keeping away, waiting for the coaxing she had to pry out of him. "I'd slide my hand up your pretty little skirt and underneath your panties, feel how wet you already are for me. Slip a finger inside, nice n’slow at first, until you start to rock against my hand."

“Yeah? In front of all these people?” She was slightly shocked- but slightly not. Seeing as Harry had really struggled with not being able to publicly show her affection, she should have guessed he’d be handsy in all scenarios if he has the full permission- but this was more than she had anticipated. Even more so… She liked it.

"Mhm..." Harry agreed, his hands slowly sliding up her thighs, bunching the hem of her skirt as his hands went underneath without a second thought. "And if you kept making those little noises like you do when I touch you, no one would even notice."

Y/N she didn’t always make the best decisions but she knew she wouldn’t regret anything with Harry. As cocky as the man could be, as arrogant as he may appear, getting to know him up close and personal the last few months that they’d evolved into more than what they were… she knew he was a good guy. He was the type of guy she wanted. If he wasn’t, she wouldn’t be risking the peace her life had for it.

But no one ever said she wasn’t impulsive. “It is loud in here.” His body did hide hers in the corner, making it easy to be bolder. “So you should put your money where you mouth is, and touch me.”

"Oh, I plan on it" Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't waste any time in sliding his hand fully up her skirt, his fingers brushing against her skin as he made his way underneath her panties. His pace was careful, his touch light as he slowly slid a finger inside of her. Then soft hitch of her breath made him hum felt her bury her face in his chest to muffle any noise she might make. All talk, his girl, but he didn’t care too much- not when he felt that slick hole around his digit after being essentially edged all week. He continued to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb gently circling her puffy clit.

Biting his lip as he felt her clench around him, he could feel himself grow harder at the thought of being the one to make her feel like this. He added another finger, still moving slowly but picking up the pace slightly. "I want to take you out, show you off. I'm so tired of hiding you." Harry whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he continued to move his fingers inside of her. "I want everyone to know that you're mine. Don’t want to have t’sneak off in vacation just to play with my girl’s cunt. Should’ve been making you cum the whole time." Harry's other hand came up to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her properly. His eager tongue slipped into her mouth as he continued to move his fingers inside of her, feeling her wetness coat his fingers.

She was clinging to him, her nails digging into his arms as she tried to keep quiet. Her breath was coming in short gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Face buried in his neck, her teeth sank into his skin to muffle her moans as he felt her shake against him. Y/N had never dabbled in public play before, and she knew no one could see, but the thrill of it all had her more wet than she had anticipated. Sure, the girl talked big game but she didn’t know what she would do if she had actually got caught being touched like this. Add in the fact that Harry’s tank top hugged him perfectly, his tattoos contrasting his skin, the broad shoulders and brush of his facial hair against her sensitive skin had her feeling drunk.

“That feels so fucking good.” She mewled, unsure if she wanted his mouth to keep her quiet or his chest.

"Shh..." Harry hushed her, his voice low and warning. "You have to be quiet, baby. Know it’s loud but y’don’t want anyone t’hear you." As much as he liked that idea, he knew his girl. That was something they’d need to work up to. Just feeling her dripping down his knuckles as he fingerfucked her was shocking enough, so he was more than pleased with this. His face nuzzled against her neck, his stubble scratching her sensitive skin. "Wrap your arms around my neck. Lean back against the wall."

Putting her trust in him was easy, or maybe it was the pent up sexual tension she hadn’t been able to release all trip as she did as he asked. The position made it look like a couple drunkenly making out, but his hand angled the farthest from the dancing drunk crowd was working slowly under her skirt.

Harry took advantage of her new position, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of her as his thumb continued to rub against her center. He felt her squirm against him, her arms tightening around his neck as she buried her face in his chest once more to muffle her moans. "Good girl... keepin’ so quiet for me... " He praised, his fingers picking up pace as he fought to keep himself calm. He glanced around quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to them, before he gently tugged her leg up, resting it on his hip.

The man had been good this whole trip. He’d played by her rules, trying his best to keep prolonged eye contact to a minimum, not leaning into her too much, not touching her, trying to act as he had in the past- but it was borderline impossible. Not with the way he felt about her. He wanted to rub all over her like a cat, wanted to wake up with her in the pretty room with the balcony and be the one to order her morning coffee. He was so tired of being good. In all honesty, the man didn’t care who found out anymore, not when being with her felt like this. Her little cunt gushing over his digits, dripping down the back of his hand as he curled his fingers just so.

"You're soaking through to my wrist..." Harry growled lowly, his other arm banded around her waist to keep her upright as her knees grew weak. He could feel her tensing up, her breath hitching as her body grew warmer. "Want you t’let go for me, love..." He curled his fingers one more time, pressing against her spot over and over as he rubbed his thumb in tight circles over her clit. Her whole body shuddered against him, her legs trembling as she tried to hold herself up. "You’re right there, baby. Can feel it. Let it go for me, my sweet girl... "

Harry buried his face in her hair as he felt her clamp down around his fingers, her body trembling slightly as she came silently against his hand. Her nails dug painfully into his shoulders as she bit down on his chest to keep quiet, her whimper muffled against his skin as she rode out her high. He held her leg tightly against his hip, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright as her body shook with her orgasm. His fingers remained buried inside her, his fingertips gently stroking against her spot as he kept her on edge, prolonging her orgasm the best he could.

Pulling her face up, he dragged her mouth back to his. Their kiss was sloppy and desperate, Harry's tongue pushing into her mouth as he devoured her whimpers, groaning in response as he felt her cunt clenching rhythmically around his fingers. One of his favorite feelings, his favorite tastes. The only ways it could be better would be with his tongue on her clit or his cock inside of her. His hand shifted, tangling in her hair, holding her head still as he ate at her mouth, swallowing her noises as he kept his fingers buried inside her trembling pussy.

"Shh, baby... I've got you... " Harry cooed, his voice low as he gently worked her down. Slowly removing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked her taste off of them before he lowered her leg back down to the ground.

“We’re telling him. Tomorrow.” He mumbled, wiping his spit soaked fingers on his shorts. “I’m not spending the rest of this trip with you not in my bed because he’s gonna have a fuckin’ tantrum. He’ll get it over, baby.”

Looking down at her, his eyes softened significantly as he gazed at her flushed face and messy hair. "You're staying in my bed tonight. I’ve gone long enough without it. Everything else, we’ll figure out in the morning."

[unluckiestmember]

Hello ♥️ I hope I am not bothering you but can I Please please have a imagine for steb from arcane like a steb was completely caught off gaurd by the reader who is from the undercity and a tall intimidating individual. Reader who just walk up to him while steb was undercover in a bar and reader bluntly flirted at him and ended up dating him in only 5 weeks. I don't know I just found it a little bit funny.... This fish guy had me on a freaking choke hold!!!! Aaaaaaaaaa!!!!! His only their for a few minutes on screen and I am in love with him!

P. S not my first language and I hope it isn't too confusing.

Thank you! And have a wonderful day! ✨

Coming right up!

Steb x Zaunite! Reader

Characters: Steb, Maddie Nolen and Violet "Vi"

Warning: One cuss word, but outside of that SFW.

A/N: I'm surprised by how many people really love Steb! I was not expecting that, but I'm loving every second of it!

When Steb was sent on a mission to the undercity undercover to bring down an illegal business, he expected to get his job done.

And he did! But he didn’t expect to get a lover in the midst of it all.

When you first met him, outside of catching your gaze on a handsome fishman, you quickly realized he was a man of little words.

But what he lacked in dialogue he made up for in body language.

Especially when he blushed at your advances.

He could try his damnest to play coy with you, but there was no point.

The more you pointed out how beautiful his scales were and how his eyes held the ocean within them, the more he fell for you.

The attraction at first was mainly fueled out a lust, your time together only being colored by rendezvouses and sneaky links.

But before you both knew it,  lust turned into a genuine bond.

And the genuine bond turned into love.

In the beginning of your relationship, Steb tried to keep you at arms length from his duties in Piltover.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you- Not by a long shot!

He was just scared that if his friends and close acquaintances in the enforcer unit found out you were a Zaunite they could hurt you.

So the both of you kept your love under wraps, embarking on dates in secret.

It was fine at first, but after a while, Steb could tell it was killing you to watch other couples show their lovers off with pride while he had to walk on eggshells.

Luckily a pep talk from Maddie and the other enforcers in addition to yourself gave him the courage to declare without fear that you were his beloved.

Hell, even Vi is a huge fan of you two! She never would've pegged Steb to be with a Zaunite, but she loves the sight regardless!

Now the both of you hang around Zaun and Piltover, hand in hand, being the cutest couple in the twin cities.

Also the sexiest, but that’s a story for another time.

If you got any requests for Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[blackknight-kai]

Nobody asked for this one but it came to me so I’m gonna share. It’ll be my last post for the day since I’ve kinda bombarded you guys all day LOL! Sorry not sorry….

You lose a bet with Bajie and have to kiss Wukong/DO on the mouth. The pig man KNOWS of your feelings for the monkey, while Wukong/DO is oblivious to it.

And so, you stalk over to the handsome monkey, your cheeks absolutely on fire. He’s distracted so he doesnt know what’s coming to him. As you approach though and call out to him he innocently turns his face towards you and that’s when you act, wanting to get this embarrassing thing over with.

Quickly before he has a chance to do anything about it you put your hand on his cheek, noting in the back of your mind how soft and warm his fur and skin is. Your heart is so damn loud in your ears as it tries to hammer its way out of your chest. With every ounce of courage you have you squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips against his for just a blissful moment before tearing yourself away and very, very speedily make your exit.

Bajie bellows out a loud thoroughly amused cackle at your plight and you rudely flip him off as you stomp away and out of sight through the trees making your way to a nearby stream, hoping that splashing your scalding face with cold water will help calm you down. You feel like you could just DIE. On one hand, you’d gotten to kiss HIM. On the other, now you’ll have to try to explain WHY that happened when he inevitably asks and try not to spill your guts regarding your apparently not so well hidden feelings.

Destined One:

- [ ] Does not understand what the hell just happened

- [ ] He is frozen solid in place, his usual determined frown going slightly slack as his mouth hangs open just a little.

- [ ] His heart starts stuttering and he takes a sudden shocked breath not realizing that he’d literally stopped breathing

- [ ] Slowly, still staring at the trees you had disappeared behind, he raises a claw tipped hand and brushes his fingers against his lips. It tingles strangely and he feels weirdly twitchy

- [ ] His brown furrows deeply as the sounds of the forest and Bajie’s deep laughs start to register to him

- [ ] With flaring nostrils he finally moves, stalking with purpose after you, not knowing exactly WHY but that he NEEDS to. the pigs laughter echoing loudly starts to fade as he uses his heightened senses to locate you

- [ ] His heart is still racing, as though he’s in a particularly harrowing fight, when he finds you crouched down by a stream splashing water on your face

- [ ] Not stopping, feeling determined but not sure why, he clenches his fists and makes his way over to you with stiff shoulders and a flicking tail

- [ ] Hearing his loud footsteps on the grass you turn, your eyes wide and your cheeks pink

- [ ] Seeing that expression on your face makes his fur ripple and he barrels right up to you as you stand and take a step back from him putting your hands up

- [ ] His chest hits your hands and you give him a strangely vulnerable look opening your mouth as though youre going to explain yourself

- [ ] He doesnt let you.

- [ ] Pursing his lips he gently reaches up, pressing his chest heavily against your palms and wrapping his tail around your waist securely, his hand cups your cheek

- [ ] His hold is gentle but firm and he shuts his eyes as he leans in and puts his mouth against yours

You:

- [ ] You’re confused, nervous, and kinda freaking out as he suddenly gets into your space

- [ ] It all moves so quickly that you don’t have time to react as his strong chest presses against your hands and his tail anchors itself around your waist pulling you into him as his claw tipped hand gently angles your face

- [ ] You suck in a surprised breath as his mouth is pressed firmly against yours for a moment, your heart racing and your eyes wide

- [ ] His lips dont move, in fact the touch is kinda strange as he just holds his face against yours and as he pulls back you blink at him completely stunned and speechless

- [ ] His brow has a deep furrow to it and he seems to contemplate something before he pulls your face against his again and you squeak as he does this very quickly several times

- [ ] As he pulls back one more time, you hear a frustrated and pained monkey sound coming the back of his throat, its almost like a whine, his expression that of confusion and frustration you realize very quickly that he just simply doesn’t know what to do

- [ ] Swallowing thickly, you try your best to calm your heart and find your voice. “D-did you want me to show you?” You whisper in the small space between your faces

- [ ] He slowly jerks his head in a nod and looks at you imploringly

- [ ] taking a shuddering breath you slowly slide your hand up from his chest, he seems to shiver as your fingers glide across the skin on his neck and he tentatively leans into your touch as you cup his cheek. His eyes wide, curious, and searching.

- [ ] You pull gently and he leans down towards you again and this time when your lips touch you can help but smile just a little at how stiff he is

- [ ] “Do as I do” you tell him lowly as you pull back only a hair before kissing him again, this time you gently put pressure on his lips with yours, moving just a little

- [ ] It takes him a second but then he tentatively copies you with a sigh through his nose and a pleased monkey noise rumbles in his chest

- [ ] You both take a few moments just testing the waters, him following your guidance and slowly gaining confidence with his lips

- [ ] You know you’ll have to explain yourself soon, but for now, you enjoy the slow exploring kisses and his gentle hold keeping you pressed tightly to him

Sun Wukong:

- [ ] As soon as your lips touch his, Wukongs body does its best impression of turning into a statue, living up to the name “Stone Monkey”

- [ ] Everything stop for him

- [ ] He only vaguely notices your lips leaving his and your touch being gone

- [ ] No sound or smell reaches him. His sight doesnt register and all he can do is stand there for a moment as his body tries to understand the unfamiliar sensation he’d just experienced

- [ ] His lips twitch first and then a high pitched, curious, and surprised little monkey sound leaves his throat as everything comes crashing into him all at once

- [ ] His tail is still frozen in place slightly curled at the end. The furry tip of the appendage starts to wiggle though as his senses return to him

- [ ] Bajie’s cackling being the first thing he hears and the trees you’d scurried off behind being the first thing he sees.

- [ ] His lips tingle and his heart hurts with how hard and fast it’s pounding in his chest

- [ ] Another instinctive monkey sound leaves his throat and he licks his lips flaring his nostrils at the faint taste of the pear youd eaten just a bit ago

- [ ] Bajie, hearing Wukongs little primal vocalizations laughs harder and falls backwards off the log he was sitting on

- [ ] Wukong ignores him in favor of latching on to the rising instinctual feeling in his gut, needing to give chase to you

- [ ] He tightens his body and in an instant hes off, the dirt where he had been standing is displaced with the force of his movement. The leaves on the ground fly up as he disappears and bushes and trees sway dramatically as he rockets himself through the forest towards you

- [ ] Seeing you crouched by the stream he stops only half a step from you and you jump to your feet in fright at his sudden presence

- [ ] Any other time he might have found that amusing

- [ ] Instead he reaches out to you with both hands, a needy instinctual monkey sound ripping from his throat, cupping your cheeks and his claws gently grazing the back of your head as he pulls you up and dives down to meet you in a fiery kiss

You:

- [ ] You dont have time to even breathe as his strong calluses hands grip your face and yank you up towards him

- [ ] His lips slam into yours causing you to gasp and fall into him with your hands against his chest as he practically starts to devour your mouth

- [ ] It’s completely uncoordinated and messy, as though he’s impatient and inexperienced

- [ ] His claws grazing the back of your head and neck make you shiver and you try to keep up with his passionate kiss

- [ ] You both are breathing heavily through your noses and you have to turn your head with all your strength to dislodge his lips from yours

- [ ] He thankfully allows it and pulls back only a breath away to look into your eyes, something desperate and vulnerable in them

- [ ] After a moment he tries to dive back in but you stop him by putting your the tips of your fingers softly over his mouth

- [ ] He frowns obviously pouting at you and you huff a breathless laugh

- [ ] “Slow down a little,” you say with a racing pulse and excitement running through you

- [ ] Wukong makes a little frustrated grunt but you lean up and softly kiss his lips once and then pull back “Like that,” you say

- [ ] He squints at you before giving a short, sharp nod, and you laugh to yourself as he dives right back in for another kiss

- [ ] He’s still impatient. Still too quick and messy but he moves slower and as you guide him he learns to follow your movements - of course with his own over confident spin on it.

- [ ] You cant complain though, not even as he licks sloppily into your mouth and pulls you tightly against his warm sturdy body, his tail wrapping tightly around your thigh just under your ass cheek.

- [ ] You kissed the Monkey King and he came back for more

[niningtori]

i know it's over | oneshot

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you

summary: you love beomgyu — you truly do — you just wish he loved you back, but after a particularly humiliating night in which he shows you just how little he cares, you finally decide enough is enough. enter kang taehyun, a sweet boy who's the polar opposite of beomgyu; but while you begin to develop your relationship with him, beomgyu realizes exactly what he's missing.

genre: ANGST, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end

warnings: toxic relationships

word count: 7.3k

notes: repost/rewrite of one of my first works (formerly titled: to know him is to love him, and i do) THERE WILL BE AN ALTERNATE ENDING (edit: jk no there won't be), YES the best friend's little brother!beomgyu au won the poll but i'm so hesitant to post it because i hate it so i thought i'd post this for now until i'm able to edit the other work enough to where it's not an actual eyesore.

you're tired. really tired. exhausted, even, as you stalk through the doorway of beomgyu's apartment. you practically tear off your coat, letting it land harshly on the living room floor with a slight thud. beomgyu rolls his eyes and picks it up with a sigh before hanging it up on the rack.

"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?" he asks flatly.

"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.

"and that's my fault how?"

"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and, god, it hurts. 

"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term. 

"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human, too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child. 

"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head. 

it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.

 "you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.  

"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance —  you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.

"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly. 

"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."

your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.

"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.

"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time. 

"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.

he does nothing but scowl, and that's enough of an answer as it stands. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will. 

"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.  

"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself, and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him — that's how much you love him — but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.

"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see, and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking: "does that mean anything at all to you?" 

"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."

your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.

all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. even something as menial as when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend, and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. nobody likes a desperate girl, after all. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.  

"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go." 

you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time. 

"beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes. 

"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.

"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door. 

-

there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all. 

he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world — or were, you guess, since all that's over now.

it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it. 

there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him, but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick, too.

after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder; would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate? 

either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon, and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.

-

the first time beomgyu realizes just how impactful your absence is, nothing in particular happens. it's a regular tuesday night a week or so after your "breakup" and he's bored out of his mind. he showers, listens to music, texts his friends and makes himself dinner, but something is missing. 

as he sits on his couch, he realizes what it is: you. right about now, you should be pestering him to hang out and showing up on his doorstep to watch a movie. he'd roll his eyes at first, but eventually relent as long as he got to pick the movie, of course. he wouldn't say it, but he'd actually enjoy glancing over and seeing your reactions. you were comically expressive and every twist and turn of the plot had your eyes bulging and mouth agape, turning to him for confirmation that he was seeing the same things you were. when you watched inception for the first time, it absolutely rocked your world.

he's alone, but he puts on a movie, anyway. every so often, his head turns to the side with the corner of his mouth raised, but you're not there to give a reaction. he should be used to your absence by the third twist, but he still finds himself subconsciously turning to you throughout the rest of the movie. when the credits roll, he's half expecting to hear you chatter on about how crazy it was, but it's silent. the only time that would happen would be when you'd accidentally drift off in spite of how engrossed you were. you'd try to fight it off like a stubborn kid, but would succumb by the final act. he smiles at the memory before shaking his head in disbelief. what's wrong with him? 

moments like these plague him more and more frequently, but the most notable one is the night before his first day at a new job. he briefly talks to his friends about his excitement, but he's too embarrassed to divulge just how anxious he is. times like this, he'd come over and complain for however long he needed. you'd sit and nod, asking questions during his pauses to encourage him to continue, always adding appropriate and thoughtful commentary. 

his thoughts wander to how you're doing alone. you really love him, it seems, so he can only imagine how you're faring without him. he wishes you hadn't blocked his number so he could at least ask how you are. maybe you'd even tell him you miss him. not for the first time, he begins to wonder if he pushed you too far this time around. you've gotten angry and given him the silent treatment before, sure, but you've never blocked him and you've certainly never done it for so long. 

he looks you up on instagram for the first time since your breakup. he's not terribly surprised when he sees he's blocked on there too, but all it takes is a switch to his photography account, which you had forgotten to block, to see what you're up to now. 

the first thing he notices is a picture of you sitting outside with an ice cream cone in hand, sun encircling you. your smile is beaming and your eyes are crinkled and he can almost hear your giggle through the screen. the caption reads "ice cream date with my best friend!”

he scrambles through his memories to try to remember a time in recent history when you two did something similar, but he comes up blank. what he does recall, though, is you mentioning a new frozen yogurt place you wanted to visit with him for your birthday. he nodded in response, but he knew he wouldn't go with you, opting instead to get shitfaced with his friends. in retrospect, maybe you knew it, too. he had checked his phone the next morning and saw he had at least half a dozen missed calls and well over a dozen texts from you. when he finally texted you back, you took almost a full 5 hours to respond, which was uncommon. usually, you'd text back within minutes. it occurred to him later on that that was your version of the silent treatment, and it amused him that you could only hold out for a few hours. he honestly found it kind of cute. 

he remembers what you did for his birthday. how you had secretly invited his friends over to his apartment to surprise him after an especially shitty day at work. he came home to an elaborately decorated apartment and all of his favorite people greeting him. he remembers how happy you looked when he opened up your present to him, which was the guitar he had always secretly wanted but could never quite justify buying for himself. you were so excited, any spectator would think he had gotten you the gift of your dreams and not the other way around. you were practically buzzing with excitement when he pulled you in for a kiss. his friends had whooped at the display of affection, and you giggled shyly at their reaction. what did he get you for your birthday again? anything?

he spends days pondering over this and similar circumstances, which eventually turn into weeks upon weeks. what starts as a nagging feeling that he may have gone too far in his neglect for you becomes guilt and anxiety. he recalls just how torn up you seemed the last time he saw you. to be honest, at the time, he was mostly just irritated. but he never thought you'd actually leave. all he can see is that awful look on your face when you finally ended everything, and all he can remember is the fact that he put it there. he knows in his heart that he has no right to feel this way, but he feels it all the same. 

-

you would have never imagined you'd actually like somebody other than beomgyu, but taehyun makes it as easy as possible given the sticky circumstances. you met at a club your best friend dragged you to, both you and taehyun had to remain sober (designated drivers, of course) and ended up having a surprisingly engaging conversation amidst the blaring music and strobe lights. after that, the rest is history. 

he can tell you've been hurt before, but he gently coaxes you into opening up as you spend more and more time with him. you're afraid of being overbearing and coming across as a lovesick puppy again, but taehyun is gentle and seems to enjoy your attention and affection, even if he's a surface level tsundere. more than that, he actually reciprocates it. 

do you still think about beomgyu? of course. do you miss him? well, you'd never admit it to a single soul, but the way you see him in everything has to be an indicator that you do. it's getting better, though. more bearable. 

a month or so into your relationship, you post about taehyun for the first time. you don't know why you're so nervous about announcing to the world that you have a boyfriend again, but happiness overwhelms your fear when you're met with nothing but positivity. 

-

beomgyu is shellshocked, to put it mildly. the picture of you and your so-called boyfriend is sickly sweet. it's not over the top or anything—just a candid of you in a café holding hands with him while looking over the same menu. the caption is nothing other than a heart and squirrel emoji (why?) and both he and your best friend are tagged. his finger jumps to the boy's profile and he sees the same photo. he scoffs at the cheesiness of it all, but his heart aches at the way all of your friends have commented on the post expressing their happiness for you — they had never approved of him for reasons he's only now beginning to understand.

you always defended him in front of your friends no matter what he did or didn't do. you'd "comfort" him after your friends said something snarky and explain that they just didn't understand him. you'd say that if they knew the real him, they'd see him differently. at the time, he'd scoff and say something along the lines of "i don't need for them to see me differently because i couldn't give less of a fuck about what they think”. you'd be hurt, of course you would be, but you'd never say so.

more and more, like an outsider looking in, he can see just how awful he was to you. it's to his horror that he realizes this must be the case for you, too. the chances of you getting back together with him seem slimmer and slimmer, especially now that you've got that pretty boy on your arm. your words echo in his mind as if to haunt him: "what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" leave, apparently, and don't look back. 

he can't keep living like this. 

-

a knock on your door is all it takes to ruin your night — you had actually had a really good day up until now. you and taehyun had gone on a breakfast date and napped together until he had to leave in the afternoon, so you're humming now in contentment while applying your nightly skincare, thinking relentlessly about the boy you think you might be starting to love. it feels different from the love you felt for beomgyu, but in a good way. you still think about him and wonder how he's doing, but you always derail that train of thought with a god-given force previously unknown to you. he doesn't care about you, you chant to yourself — it's almost like your daily mantra. in the midst of your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door. you smile widely when you surmise that it's probably taehyun again. you don't realize just how big your grin is until it drops. 

standing before you is not your lovely boyfriend, but the man who made you question whether or not you were even lovable in the first place. he has a small smile on his face, and if you were to look a little more carefully, you'd notice that he actually seems a little nervous. 

"hi," he says, breaking the silence. his heart is racing a mile a minute, and potential scenarios battered his mind the entire way here. what would you do when you saw him? smile? he could handle that. cry? he could also handle that, even if he didn't want to see your tears. what he is not prepared for is the blankness of your features when you ask: 

"what are you doing here?" 

his smile falters almost imperceptibly.

"i, uh, i just wanted to see you." you're merciful enough to give him a nod of encouragement to continue. "a-and i wanted to tell you that i haven't stopped thinking about you for the past few months, and that i, um, i think i'm finally ready to be with you," he finishes with a shaky breath.

you're quiet for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're deep in thought.

"but i thought you were dating someone now? your ex?"

"i'm not!" he says almost a little too quickly.

"i heard you were," you counter, not quite believing him. you heard he had been seeing his ex from one of your friends who happened to live in her apartment complex. she had seen his car in the parking lot a few times in the last couple of weeks and had no reason to lie to you.

"w-well, i've seen her a few times, but not seriously. i — to be honest, i was just trying to get over you, but i've finally realized that i can't becau—"

"so, just to make sure i understand, you're not over me so you're seeing her?" his eyes widen in shock before his head hangs in shame as he realizes exactly what he's done and how he must look to you right about now, but you're not finished. "isn't that what you were doing with me?" your voice is low and indifferent, but each word feels tailor-made to slash at his heart. "wow, i guess some things really never change, but don't worry, i'm sure once she moves on, you'll finally see the good in her instead of me," you spit out.

"can you listen to me? please?" beomgyu is so ashamed he wants to die. he fumbles for the right words, but when he accidentally makes eye contact with you, they die on his lips. he wishes you would give him time to process what you're saying and mull over what to respond with because you always knew he was bad with words, but he supposes he lost the right to your patience a long time ago.

"you want me to listen to you so you can fuck with my head until the next person rolls around?" the latter words are strangled by the tightness in your throat, and he can't help but wince. when he thinks it's over, you continue. 

"nobody has ever made me feel as small as you have. i hated myself because of you," your lip trembles and before he can say a word, you're raising your hand to shut the door.

"wait, wait, wait! just let me say this," he pleads as he gently grasps the doorframe. "i... i love you." he almost thinks he hears you gasp, but he's too busy looking into your unreadable eyes to know for sure. he has never said anything like this to you before. you're completely silent for a few moments before breaking the tense atmosphere.

"j-jesus, i mean, i guess i just don't know what to say," you sputter and his eyes alight with what looks suspiciously like hope. "except maybe that... i'm sorry you feel that way?" you finish with a sardonic smile and a roll of your eyes. before he can respond, which he actually intends to do this time around, you slam the door in his face.

-

if you were to ask beomgyu if he loved his ex mere months ago, he'd say he didn't know for sure, but probably. they ended things rather messily, which seems to be a trend for him, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know what he liked about her after all. if he had to pinpoint it, he liked the thrill of the chase and the idea of never knowing how explosive things would inevitably get between the two of them. he liked the toxicity. only now does he understand that that wasn't love at all, but some sort of sick game of hurting and being hurt he doesn't want to play anymore. he doesn't want to hurt the people around him, especially not you, but it would appear that that sentiment has presented itself a little too late. 

there's always been a lot to love about you. always. you're so kind and so incredibly patient, at least with the people you love. you're thoughtful and intentional with your words and actions. you're not perfect, but you try your best to be a good and fair person. and you listen. like, really listen. the kind of listening where you're not just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you genuinely want to know what the other person has to say. even if he didn't know it at the time, beomgyu always did love you. was it in the way you deserved? obviously, with the way things are now, it's perfectly clear it was not. 

even if he does bump into you, it's completely pointless. you made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with him. the last thing you said to him echoes in his head with an unspeakable viciousness. 

"i'm sorry you feel that way." he didn't realize just how cruel those words were until they were falling from your lips instead of his. he didn't realize just how cruel he was in general. 

he ponders over how succinctly you summed up your entire dynamic:

"i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" to be honest? he doesn't understand why you had to do that, either. 

contrary to what one might suppose about him given his overall shitty personality, he had actually had a pretty good go at life. he was innately able to make the world sit and watch him go, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it. but what should he do since you don't want to watch him anymore? what should he do since you don't want anything to do with him anymore? 

as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair of his new least favorite bar, he's confronted by this truth over and over again. he's not completely sure why he's even here — he hates this place, but he remembers you mentioning you liked to come here. in hindsight, there's no doubt that that was a way to hint that you'd like to come with him, but what use is it to recognize it now, after all this time? 

not much, apparently. or at least that's what his conscience is telling him. he should leave, he thinks. he should stop coming here every night hoping he'll run into you because it's wrong to make you uncomfortable when you've said in no uncertain terms that you don't want him anymore. he should, he should, he should. and he will, really. in just a minute. that's what he tells himself, but he just watches the door as he gets drunker and drunker, still.

he's on the brink of literally passing out when he hears a sound he'd recognize anywhere: your laugh. he actually thinks he's hallucinating just because he wants to hear it so fucking badly, but it takes the sound of your voice to convince him it's real. you're actually here. he's incredibly drunk, so the idea of being tactful escapes him. he can't miss this chance.

-

you try, and try, and try some more, but you can't seem to forget beomgyu's last words to you. he loves you? you scoff at the idea. does he even know what love is? it doesn't feel like it —  truly, it doesn't. if that's what his love feels like, you'd rather not feel it at all. 

that's what you keep trying to hammer into your head along with the idea that you're doing well, and you are doing well. seriously. things with taehyun are better than ever and you can really see yourself building a life with him. everything feels so pure and brand new. your feelings for him may lack the intensity that you felt with beomgyu, but that was years in the making, so it's only fair that you nurture the love that's blossoming between the two of you while smothering out the embers of what used to be with beomgyu. it's only right, right? it should be, but the way you're so torn makes your head spin.

so you decide to go to your favorite bar and forget about everything for the night. it's been a long while since you've let loose, and you're excited. you're surrounded by your friends and you're ready to let go. it's only when you excuse yourself to get some fresh air that you realize fate has other plans. 

when you're walking to the curb to take a seat, you feel a tug on your elbow and whip around. 

"who —" you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes meet with beomgyu's misty ones. the ones you used to love so much. 

"hey," he says weakly.

"what do you want?" you seethe while harshly yanking your elbow from his grasp. his lips purse and even in the dim lighting outside of the bar, you can see his eyes water even more. he's always been such a baby when he's drunk. 

"i just wanna talk," he pleads. he sounds so out of it and looks so pathetic you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i have nothing to say to you," you reply coldly. 

"but i do." he sounds desperate to a degree that you sincerely never thought you'd hear.

"what, are you gonna tell me you love me again?" you retort with a roll of your eyes. you're obviously being sarcastic, but all he can think in his drunken state is how pretty your eyes shine even when they're impatient to look away from him.

"if you're not gonna say anything, i'm leaving," you snap, turning away, but beomgyu is awoken from his daze and gently pulls you back.

"n-no! i mean, yes. i love you, b-but that's not what i wanted to say."

"well, what did you want to say?" you ask, tone laced with annoyance. 

seeing that you'll actually give him a chance to hear him out, he scrambles for a moment before clearing his throat. he’s so anxious that you can see his hands shaking as he wrings them.

"i just want to tell you that i’m sorry. i know i’ve said it before, but i want you to hear it again, and i’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me. i want to make it up to you — i really do — and i know that i can change. i'm — i just miss you so much i can't stand it. i-if you don’t feel the same way, or don’t care, or however it is, i understand; but i meant it when i said i love you, and i mean it now when i say that i'm so, so fucking sorry," his voice cracks as he finishes and hot tears threaten to find their way down his face. 

"beomgyu..." you begin, not really sure what to say. what is there to say? and any hope he has of being with you is almost extinguished when he sees how much you pity him in this moment, but he'll hold on for as long as you'll let him.

"you said you saw the real me. you know i'm not all bad, right? i'm a piece of shit, but i can't be all bad," he pleads, tears now streaming unabashedly from his eyes. maybe if he can just find the right words, you won't leave him.

"beomgyu," you sigh, "i've never thought that about you. i know you're not all bad," his face perks up at this and he's tempted to bury his face in your neck and sob in pure relief. the pain he's been feeling for the past few months is about to be over because you understand him. always have. even though he's like this, you can still see the good in him. just the thought alone is enough to fill him with pure ecstasy. he goes to close the distance between the two of you to pull you into his embrace, but you gently place your hand on his chest before he can come any closer.

"thank you for telling me how you feel, beomgyu, but if you think you can fix everything with a few words, you're delusional." his face crumbles at this and a sense of panic and dread pools in his stomach.

"w-what? b-but you said —" 

"i know you're sorry, and i know you'd probably try to make it up to me if i let you, but that's not enough. you really hurt me, okay? and it's just, you know, i'm finally happy now, and i have taehyun. i really like him, beomgyu. and he really likes me," you say with a fond smile, as if you're thinking of taehyun right now, and his heart shatters into a million pieces. 

"it's okay," he smiles bitterly, tears still flowing freely. "i... i understand. i just want you to be happy. i want you to be so happy. you deserve it."

"but..."

"go back in," he sniffles. "you don't need to stay here with me anymore." he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and tries to send you off with a smile, but it's so forlorn, you wish he'd just keep frowning.

"... okay." you turn away, and even though he told you to do it, he can't help but feel an even bigger lump in his throat now that you're actually listening to him.

"beomgyu?" you say softly, before you enter the door. 

his damned heart can't help but flutter again against his will. 

"yes?" 

"don't wait for me anymore, okay?" and he knows you’re being kind, but it feels so final, it hurts more than any hateful words ever could. he should agree, but the ugly and selfish part of him refuses to lie, so he just shakes his head and waves you off. his love is ugly and his heart is broken, but it's still yours to have. 

"I'm sorry," he murmurs again to nobody but himself as you enter the bar.

-

“tyuuunn,” you whine into your phone’s speaker. you can’t tell how it's been since your final conversation with beomgyu, but now you’re drunk and all you can think about is taehyun. about his kindness, how happy he makes you feel, and how much you want to give him all of that in return.

“what is it, baby?” he coos. even in your inebriated state, you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you wanna smile, too. 

“miss youuu,” you groan. he laughs at your childishness, and you can feel just how much he’s doting on you. it’s a relatively new feeling, being cared for like this, but it’s one you welcome with fervor.

“let me pick you up from that stupid bar so you can stay the night. how’s that sound?” 

“mmm, hurry up,” you pout, and he just laughs again. god, you’re gonna feel so embarrassed by your neediness come tomorrow morning, and he can’t wait to tease you. 

taehyun is so eager to see you, he almost gets pulled over twice while making his way to the bar. he just can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look in his arms, all whiny and grumpy and begging for affection; and he’ll baby you, like he always does, because you deserve it. when he had heard about your appalling history with beomgyu, he couldn’t believe how someone could treat a person as sweet as you so cruelly. truth be told, you do have a bit of a softer personality, but that only evoked the need to protect and cherish you in taehyun. he can’t fathom the idea that somebody would see someone so pure and decide to take advantage instead of nurturing that innocence. his friends keep saying he’s a sucker, and they’re probably right, but he’ll happily be one for you. 

he’s lost in his thoughts when he pulls into the parking lot of the bar you’re in, but his dopey grin drops the second he sees your dreaded ex stumbling away from the building. his face is red, and he’s feverishly wiping away tears and snot. taehyun is a smart man, so he can easily piece together what must have happened, but the thought that you were still thinking of taehyun in this moment comforts him. you had run into your ex, and instead of running back to him, you’re thinking of your new boyfriend. what a relief. taehyun has always known you were still a little broken up about your split with beomgyu. he came into this relationship fully knowing that, but he liked you so much, he really didn’t care. maybe it was rash of him, but he thought it was worth taking a chance. he thought you were worth taking a chance, and so far, he had been correct. 

he parks and stays in his car. if he were a petty person, he might ignore beomgyu and just walk right by him with his arm wrapped around your waist. taehyun, however, is a good person. so good, in fact, he waits for beomgyu’s friend to pick him up before leaving his car to find you.

when he enters the bar, he scans the crowd before he finds you sitting with your friends. your phone is to your ear and it only takes a few seconds for his own to ring. he smiles when he sees your contact photo (the one you both took on a date to your favorite frozen yogurt shop) appear on his screen. he rejects the call and watches you pout before striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder. you turn around with a scowl, but your features immediately melt, and you grace him with a toothy grin. you excitedly squeal and wrap your arms around him. he matches your enthusiasm as he peppers your face with kisses.

beomgyu, who has very unfortunately come back to get his phone, watches it all and it’s enough to make him nauseous. he’s in such a daze as he watches you two that he barely registers his own friend honking at him to hurry up. he sees the afterimage of you leaning into taehyun’s touch and accepts the fact that you’ve truly moved on and won’t be coming back. he replays the last conversation you had and he decides he’ll hold onto your words forever. they’re all he has left, after all.

-

you’re so used to taehyun’s apartment that even though you’re drunk enough to see stars, you’re still able to navigate it with ease. taehyun sits you down on his couch and kneels while removing your shoes for you. 

“so chivalrous,” you giggle. 

“anything for my princess,” he replies cheekily with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. 

“why are you so nice?” 

“because i like you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“i like you, too.” you whisper while your face warms. your gaze becomes heated, and he cups your cheeks while gently guiding your face towards his. his touch is soft, and his lips? even softer. 

he doesn’t push for more. you’re drunk and vulnerable at the moment, so he graciously grabs some of his clothes for you to change into and waits for you to come to bed. when you do, you plop down and he pulls you into his arms. you smile at his earnestness. he locks his arms around you, and for the first time in your life, a man is making you feel so happy and secure you can’t help but melt into the feeling. you feel safe. you feel loved.

“i really like you, you know?” he whispers into your hair, and it’s all you can do to keep your heart inside of your chest. 

“i know. i really like you, too.” and you do. things with taehyun are still new, but as his breathing slows, you realize this is how love should be, and you think you want to be with him for a long, long time.

notes pt. 2: yes there will be an alternate ending where she ends up with gyu :,)

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[sweetsaladpainterranch]

The Rival

Summary: Alastor sought to possess one of the only does in Pentegram City for the rut season, however, you wanted a mate, not a master. But what happens when a handsome new buck shows up one day and tries to capture your attention away from the Radio Demon. Who will you choose?

(Just some practice at writing drama but I hope you enjoy)

You weren't stupid. You knew that Alastor would call upon you only because he needed a warm body to ride out his rut and not out of any naive sense of romance. Every few months you'd receive an unsurprising visit from the Radio Demon casually resting in your hotel room before whisking you off for a vigorous week of reliving both of your heats. His earthy pheromones having triggered your own. It was usually obvious when Alastor would arrive because you could always feel fiery red eyes on your form and often noticed a dark presence shifting around in your peripheral vision. Of course, this would have freaked you out but it was also nice that you didn't have to go out of your way to avoid the numerous male cervid demons suffering through their own rut cycles of the season. Having never seen another female deer demon, you realized you were probably in for a bad time if one of those desperate bastards got a hold of you. So you didn't mind a little extra security as you went about your business. 

The very moment you walked through your door, an almost overwhelming scent of a warm, mossy, musk invaded your senses as waves of static washed over you. "Ah, there's my pretty doe. How was your day out my love?", Alastor greeted you in his typical cheery voice that made your heart flutter, but you knew the sweet-sounding pet name was only a product of his possessive manipulation. He knew very well how you reacted to his charm and he had no qualms about using it to gain your sexual compliance. "Oh, you know, quiet as Hell can be." You sat across from him on an armchair and smirked at the bittersweet domestic feeling as his shadow appeared next to you with a tea cup and a small bowl of sugar cubes. You scratched its shadowy scalp with gratitude as you took the offered drink, "And thank you for the company lately", you cooed to its delighted purrs. 

Alastor cleared his throat to get both of your attention as he began, "Yes, well��, he suddenly appeared in front of your chair and bent down to your eye level, "your protection would prove much easier if you would simply make a deal with me so that all of those pathetic weaklings would know who you belonged to." You didn't miss how his voice deepened into a static-filled threat but that didn't stop you from brushing away his outstretched hand as you stood up to put away your things. Of course, Alastor had been trying to get you to agree to a deal since the beginning of your...relationship(?), however, you had seen and known many people who deeply regretted making a deal with him. You knew he only wanted the same thing as every other cervid guy, regardless of how you felt about him. He didn't want a mate to love and protect. He wanted to possess the rare commodity of a breedable doe for himself.

 "I don't belong to anyone, Alastor.", you snapped, "You already give me protection from other males in exchange for my working you through your heat." He let out a dismissive chuckle when you shimmied your ample chest, but you saw the slight blush creeping across his face at the visions likely dancing through his mind. 

God, sometimes you wished there were more women deer around so that you could just live your fucking afterlife in peace. (But then, what if you'd never met Alastor and he had found another to see his ruts through?)

***

As you both headed downstairs to dinner, Alastor more so following you as was his habit during the season, you could hear Charlie loudly speaking to someone.

"Great! Well let's head o-", she was cut off by your entrance into the lobby which revealed a large figure sporting an impressive set of thick antlers. You could feel Alastor stiffen and tighten his hold on your shoulders. The scent of the visitor told you why. It was definitely another male deer, also nearing his heat like Alastor, and it was obvious that he must've followed your feminine smell here. Charlie began to walk towards you with a large smile, "Oh, hey there! I was actually just about to show our newest guest", she gestured in the stranger’s direction, "a tour and I'd love you to join us as other deer demons." She had a hopeful bounce in her step, "This is James.", who nodded and began to look you up and down with intensity. 

"Yes, I'm very interested in what your hotel may offer, Ms. Charlie." He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of worn jeans, but you could tell that he was absolutely jacked. His forearms alone looked like freaking tree trunks and he was easily taller than even Alastor with an equally enticing scent that made your stomach flip. James had begun to move further in your direction, however, a loud growl ripped through the lobby as ear-splitting static made everyone turn to its source behind you. 

"I'm afraid we've no vacancies at the moment.", he snarled, "Allow me to escort you towards the exit." Alastor had already begun to grow into his demonic form and used his shadow tendrils to violently eject the large buck onto the front lawn before anyone could make a sound. 

Charlie quickly darted after the two males, followed by you, only to be confronted by an impossibly odd sight. James stood tall without a scratch or sign of fear on him in the face of a giant, demonic Alastor. He even looked like he was all too happy to clap back with a strong, demonic aura of his own. However, the princess halted Alastor's intended strike with a burst of flames and a disappointed comment at his attitude towards a potential guest. And immediately apologized to James as she whirled around him checking for injuries, but none were to be found. 

Did Alastor take it easy on this guy? Why? He's always simply killed potential rival suitors, this one in his territory no less, so, why was he still alive?!

Charlie returned to the lobby, leading James by his massive arm, and proceeded to ask, a very pissed-looking, Alastor to fix the now broken doors as she led the two of you on a tour of the hotel. You could feel both James' smile and Alastor's silent rage boring into the back of your head as you walked with a clueless Charlie.

***

The intense air of murderous intent in between the two male cervids had only gotten worse over the next week after freaking deer Paul Bunion was placed in a room next to yours, which was across from Alastor’s. Charlie thought you'd be able to better connect another deer demon and maybe help him if needed, though she had no idea about the conflict she had placed in your lap.

James commented, during a group share circle, that he assumed that he was a Canadian reindeer, who was relatively new to Hell. He also made it clear that he simply didn't know, or care, who the Radio Demon was. The two constantly locked horns, both physically and metaphorically as the countdown to the rutting season was running out. You also found out through Angel Dust that Alastor was absolutely forbidden from using his power to injure a resident of the hotel. 

Which you assumed was why he didn't simply wipe James off the concrete outside like a pancake off a hot griddle. 

However, this didn't stop Alastor from staking his claim on you in other ways. For instance, he always had to have a hand on you somewhere. On your knee during group talks on the lobby couch, on your shoulder while you ate a meal, and on your lower back when he walked you from room to room. James didn’t seem to give too much of a fuck as he frequently kept at your other side and proceeded to continuously compliment you, give you small gifts, or make a particularly chapped joke that you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at. Of course, that usually resulted in being pulled closer into Alastor’s side away from the other male as he snarled and rubbed his face into your hair to try and mark you with his scent.  

You couldn’t lie. You very much enjoyed the attention of the two strong males as they vied for your affection and mating rights.

One early morning, while Alastor was forced to leave your side, in order to attend an overlord meeting, James found you in your rose garden behind the hotel and offered to help you plant your new buds. After a few minutes of digging and placing the rose roots, he spoke up, “Can I ask if youse and Alastor are an item?”. He smiled at your blushing expression and continued, “Not to offend ma’am, but I’d like to show you what a true buck is.”

Your eye twitched a bit at the insult towards Alastor, but you remained calm, “It's… complicated between us.”. James simply leaned in and smiled encouragingly, “Alastor isn’t exactly into relationships, but he takes care of me during the rut season.” 

“What about the rest of the time?”, he asked while bringing his face practically an inch from yours, “Does he make you feel like the forest queen you are? Or does he simply forget you until he needs something from you?” His steel eyes brightened in victory at your affirming face toward his questions, “I-I…um…”, you tried to defend your reasons for continuously coming back to Alastor again and again even though he couldn't care less about you during the rest of the year. 

He held your hand tenderly in one of his, while also cupping your cheek with the other and whispered, “Let me give you what you deserve, sweetheart. Love not possession. Tenderness, not indifference.” You were so absolutely enthralled by his deep voice and his potent musk that you could only stare blankly as he finally leaned in and softly pressed his lips against your own.

***

Hey, Again this is just some drama and relationship writing practice for a beginner class I'm taking.

-SSPR