#i can already tell what this is gonna do to me
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hoshifighting · 3 days ago
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Hello,
So I was wondering, would you be able to write something about cock-warming with Seventeen? If not OT13, then maybe just Hoshi?
This is my first time making a request and I absolutely love your writing! I look forward to seeing your new posts every time I open the app!
Thank you 😊
cock warming with seventeen
seungcheol: he’s gritting his teeth, telling you to “sit still” ina scolding tone. man is holding on for dear life, hands on your hips, fully committed to the whole “stay still” command even though he’s just as worked up. he gives you this look that says “one wrong move and it’s over”—yet he’s lowkey loving how hard it is to keep himself together. eventually, you shift just a little and he’s like, “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” ready to wreck you right then and there.
jeonghan: he’s the absolute worst tease about it. why would you choose HIM to do that? he got that little smirk, acting all unbothered, whispering about how needy you look just sitting there on him. he’ll brush his fingers over your hips, trailing them up your spine just to mess with you. every time you try to move, he’s like, “uh-uh, baby, stay still.” you know he’s having fun watching you squirm, and he’s definitely making it as drawn-out as possible.
joshua: gives you sweet little smiles while low-key dying inside. he’s got that hand on the small of your back, running his fingers there just to keep you close. he’ll whisper all these sweet nothings, telling you how “perfect” you are, and every time you clench or move a little, he shudders, just waiting for the second he can actually move.
junhui: oh, he’s got no patience. he’s sitting there, already hard as hell, and you’re making it worse with every tiny shift. he laughs it off, biting his lip, telling you you’re “gonna regret testing him.” jun’s the type to nudge your hips a little, just to get a reaction, muttering stuff like, “if you keep doing that, don’t blame me for what happens.” he’s a mess and doesn’t even last.
hoshi: he’s like, “why did we even think this was a good idea?” wiggling around, not even pretending to keep still. every little movement makes him lose it just a bit more, and he’s already breathing heavy, wet as fuck. you both know he’s absolutely hopeless at staying still, but the boy’s trying, just loving the fact that you’re driving him up the wall.
wonwoo: he’s calm on the outside, hands steady on your hips, acting like it’s all fine and dandy, but you can feel that bro is almost melting in that game chair. every time you move, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, giving you these intense, dark-eyed looks like, “don’t test me.” he’ll stay like that as long as he can, but little to go snapping.
woozi: this man is a brick wall, hands locked around your waist, practically daring you to move. he’s got a total death grip on his self-control but gives himself away every time he swallows hard or clenches his jaw. determined to make you stay still until he’s ready.
minghao: so de-stressed, it’s unreal. he’s got his hands tracing gentle circles on your back, just enjoying the closeness but totally into it. every time you shift, he just hums, getting more and more fired up. you can tell he’s feeling it, breathing deeper, pressing you closer, but he’ll still try to play it off. he’s in no rush but is totally giving in soon.
mingyu: man’s a mess, plain and simple. he’s holding onto your hips with his nails almsot, wide-eyed and flustered as hell. he tries to be the big and strong boyy he is, but every little move makes him gulp, giving you these desperate, needy looks. probably ends up blurting, about how much he needs to fuck you.
seokmin: so flustered, you’d think it’s his first time. he’s trying to stay calm, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you in place, but he can’t help it; every time you shift, he’s turning red, letting out little gasps, unable to keep himself from reacting. he’s all, “oh my god, please, just—stay still!”
seungkwan: so worked up, it’s ridiculous. he’s like, “this was the worst idea ever babe!” but his hands are glued to you, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. he’s torn between panic and total enjoyment, all red-faced and muttering how he’s “seriously trying here.” you can tell he’s struggling, giving you little pleading looks.
vernon: silent but done for. he’ll just sit there, eyes wide, hardly breathing as he holds onto you, doing his best to stay in control but you can see the struggle. every little movement you make has him gripping your hips harder, like he’s hanging on by a thread. probably mutters, “you’re evil,” under his breath, fully aware he’s about to cum like this.
chan: incredibly sweet, probably nervous but also very into it. he’ll laugh softly, maybe trying to make small talk just to keep both of you calm, but the longer you stay like that, the more it drives him crazy. he’ll whisper, asking if you’re okay, gently reminding you to stay still but clearly enjoying when you clench or ride him a bit, especially when you both start to give in a little. BUUUUUT—he waits for you to break first.
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aperrywilliams · 3 days ago
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Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)
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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.
Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.
Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)
Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.
A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.
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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.
BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.
People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.
"Can I help you?"
You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.
You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.
"Oh God, Spencer?"
A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.
"(Y/N)? Wow..."
Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.
"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.
A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"
Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.
"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.
And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.
Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.
"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"
Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."
"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.
"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"
Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.
"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"
"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"
What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.
Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.
"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.
You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."
"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.
"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.
"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.
"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"
Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.
"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.
"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.
"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.
"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.
"When we were at college," you add.
You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.
"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.
"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"
After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"
"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.
"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.
"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.
"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."
And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.
"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.
"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.
"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.
"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.
"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."
Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.
"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.
"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"
"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."
"Cool."
Cool? What does that mean?
A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.
Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.
"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.
"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"
It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.
"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."
And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.
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From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.
Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.
A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.
"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.
"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.
"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"
Spencer huffs through his nostrils.
"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.
"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"
Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.
Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."
"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"
"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."
"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.
"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.
"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"
Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"
"And that will stop you?"
A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.
---------
Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.
But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.
You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.
With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.
Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.
"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.
"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."
"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."
It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?
"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.
"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"
You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."
"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.
"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.
"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"
The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.
"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."
Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.
A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.
'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'
Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?
You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.
"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.
"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.
"Will you say yes?"
"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.
"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."
Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.
---------
It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.
You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.
He is just being nice.
Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.
Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.
"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.
"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.
"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.
"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"
Weird is an understatement, you think.
"You are right. Kind of it is."
You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.
"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."
"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."
"Great!"
You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.
"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.
"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."
"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"
"Of course," Spencer agrees.
"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.
Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.
"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."
You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.
"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.
"Almost two years," you admit.
Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.
Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.
"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.
"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."
Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.
Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.
You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.
"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."
You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.
"I'm still that obvious?"
"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.
"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."
Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"
The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.
"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.
You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'
"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."
"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.
"No beating around the bushes, uh?"
Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."
Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.
"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."
Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.
Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.
It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.
"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.
"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."
'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.
"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"
Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?
"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.
Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."
He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."
Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.
It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...
"Do you think we made a mistake?"
Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.
You look at him, baffled. "What?"
"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"
You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?
"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."
"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.
"Did you?"
"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."
A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.
"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."
Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.
He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.
"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."
Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.
"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."
"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.
"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."
You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?
You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.
---------
Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.
Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.
Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.
Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.
"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.
"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.
You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.
"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.
"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.
"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.
"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.
"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.
"You fucking kidding me!"
"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.
"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"
"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.
"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.
"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"
You have questioned yourself the same for years.
Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.
If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.
"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."
The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.
"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.
"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.
You look at him, pretending not to understand.
"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.
"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"
"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."
"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."
That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.
"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.
It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.
When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.
"Are you okay?"
You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.
"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.
"Yeah?"
"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.
"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.
"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.
Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.
"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"
Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.
-
You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.
Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."
-
Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.
"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"
"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.
"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.
"What?"
"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."
Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.
"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.
You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.
"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."
"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.
-
As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.
"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.
"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."
"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.
"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.
"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."
-----------
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.
Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.
What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.
'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.
But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?
Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.
Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.
'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'
Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.
"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"
And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.
-----------
"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.
"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."
Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."
---------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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salemlunaa · 2 days ago
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✰ GIVE IT TO YOURSELF NOW✰
who cares what the 3d is showing you?!?!
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A lot of my followers are using the “I AM” state, inducing pure consciousness to get new lives and when they “fail” to do so, they get all upset in my dms. But if you’re a god you shouldn’t be conforming to the 3d, you’ve already been to the “I AM” state and you already have your dream life!! Are you just gonna sit there and let the 3d tell you what’s what? seriously? after all the affirming that you are a god of your own reality.
I know circumstances can be so unfavourable and unforgiving, but in the midst of it all i will ask you to close your eyes and give it to yourself. You’ve already shifted consciousness, you are already living your dream life. Who cares what the 3d is showing you, it was never about the 3d and if you can’t understand that you’re never gonna progress. Ever.
Imagine yourself as faceless and formless throughout the day, reminding your subconscious that the void and shifting is natural to you. Imagine yourself waking up from the void/“I AM” state with everything you’ve ever wanted, everything you’ve scripted, how would you feel, feel it, give it to yourself. Stop punishing yourself for something you see in the 3d.
And when you visualise these things, do not view them as some dream or some fantasy that you wish would happen, when you are visualising inducing pure consciousness and waking up with your desires, you are recounting memories, it’s real life for you, it’s already happened. Relive these visualisations over and over, give it to yourself now, simply because you can.
You’re here being miserable because it “didn’t work���. But how do you know that? How do you know it didn’t work? Because the 3d said so? Who’s to say you aren’t living your dream life right now? Is the 3d your bitch or is it the other way round? If youre sooo powerful why are you applying yourself to the 3d, why are you conforming to anyone but yourself?
Every time wavering thoughts come about, remind yourself that none of it is real, you are living your dream life. You haven’t “accomplished nothing” because you are everything, you can choose to live your dream now. Choose to give it to yourself no matter what the 3d says
“i’ve been in this community for 2 years and have done nothing” ➯ “I am a master at inducing pure consciousness and i’ve BEEN living my best life”
“i woke up without my desires again… it never works for me, no matter how hard i relax, i can’t induce pure consciousness” ➯ “i ALWAYS enter the void, matter of fact, the void HATES to see me coming”
*getting sad because the 3d is showing you a reality where you’ve woken up with nothing again* ➯ “nuh uh, NOT MY REALITY, the void is my bitch not the other way around, i tap in when ever i want, i’ve BEEN had my dream life”
*harsh circumstances hitting you like a ton of bricks* ➯ *close your eyes and visualise the life you’re ACTUALLY living, not this bullshit the 3d is showing you*
the 3d will conform, always, it’s called the LAW of assumption for a reason , not some belief that can be speculated against or some conspiracy that can be mocked. it’s LAW never forget that. if you visualise inducing pure consciousness and waking up with everything, by giving it to yourself in the 4d, the 3d will inevitably follow suit. always.
You’ve BEEN living your dream, what are you talking about? 🌺💋
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saikenakoego · 13 hours ago
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Said I was gonna do this later so here I am!!
I know nobody asked me but I'm gonna do it anyway. Because who's gonna stop me? Someone asking?
Hah!!
Im gonna do this with ALL my OC's. Because I can, and because I love all my little creations!
Starting with my currently favorite vampire gal!
Samantha Morales, a.k.a. Sammy Moors
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
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With direct answers from the girl herself, for extra cringe roleplay. My favorite.
1. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? If you have multiple, who's your favorite?
SM: I do sometimes. To try and remember what it felt to be human.
...
My favorite is my little green bunny. His name is Jacques.
2. Can you take care of a plant? What about a pet? Or a child?
SM: I can. But how well I'd do, can't tell. Being undead messes with your head a lot...
3. Can you describe your love interest?
SM: I could if I had one. Or if I could feel love. Or anything at all.
4. Do you look good in red?
SM: ...
SM: I prefer pink.
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5. Speech, speech, speech! Will you give one? And what about?
SM: No. That kind of self-centered talk is for bloodsucker scum. You wouldn't catch me dead doing something as pretentious as that. They think they're so high and mighty, that they're superior to everything else. That they can take what they want and we'd never do anything about it. But they're nothing but insects, hiding away like cowards in the shadows while feeding off others like leeches. Disgusting and pathetic, weak little creatures unable to keep living by themselves. Parasites. Just the sight of them makes me want to rip them apart limb by limb, making them scream in agony as the life they've stolen leaves their body drop by drop, scurrying away and pleading for mercy as I crush their every bone to--
6. Who will you take advice from? And who WOULDN'T you take it from?
SM: I don't think anyone can really give me any advice that matters, but if I had to choose... Maybe Johnny. Kid's got a good head on his shoulders when it comes to the supernatural. Not like I need it though.
SM: But I'd never take advice from Silver. Too impulsive, and I already have me to worry about.
7. Describe yourself in three words
SM: Monster. Disgusting. Unsightly.
8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate you?
SM: I hate puzzles. Wastes of time.
9. Do you empathize with non-sentient things?
SM: More than empathize, I envy them. I'm already unable to feel anything, at least they get to not think about it either.
10. What age do you want to be the most right now?
SM: I wanna be 13 again. Go back to when everything was okay...
11. You won the lottery. Spend, or save?
SM: I dunno. Maybe spend? We do need more silver rounds...
12. Do you like romance in the books you read?
SM: I... I think I used to like it? I can't recall...
13. Name one thing your parents taught you.
SM: Family is everything.
14. Would you agree with the term 'guilty pleasure? Do you have any?
SM: I won't give in to it. I won't, no matter how good it smells. How delicious its crimson gleam looks. How it makes my mouth water at the mere thought of it, I won't. I won't. I won't I--
15. What would you consider a waste of time, other than school and work?
SM: Anything that's too complicated. I have all the time in the world, but every second I waste is another second they live.
16. If money wasn't a limit, what would you wear?
SM: I'n fine with my outfit. I think Silver would be someone better to ask this to.
17. Do you like children?
SM: No. They wound too frequently.
18. Kissing: Tongue or no tongue?
SM: No kissing. That's disgusting.
19. Do you study before tests?
SM: I haven't done any tests in 2 years.
20. What do you like that nobody else does?
SM: Rare meat in burgers isn't too bad... Don't tell Johnny I said that.
21. What would it take for you to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?
SM: Being a bloodsucker. Even if I can't feel anything, that's an immediate deal breaker.
22. Do you like being called pet names? Do you call others pet names? What's your go-to?
SM: I don't, but people have been calling me Sammy or Moors for so long that it feels weird when they don't do it. Old habits die hard, I guess. The only person I have a nickname for is Silver, and that's because he insists on being called Silver.
23. Stability or novelty?
SM: I've had my fill of novelty for a lifetime...
24. Honesty or charity?
SM: Honesty.
25. Safety or possibility?
SM: Safety.
26. Talent or effort?
SM: Effort.
27. Forgiveness or vengeance?
SM: VENGEANCE.
28. Would you date a fixer-upper?
SM: I'd rather not date anyone right now.
29. What recurring dreams do you have?
SM: The blood, it's everywhere... I'd rather not talk about it.
30. What would you do if you knew it would be forgiven?
SM: I... I'm not gonna answer that.
oc asks that reveal more than you think
Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?
Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?
Ask them to describe their love interest.
Do they look good in red?
Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?
Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?
Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.
Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?
Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?
What age do they most want to be right now?
They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?
Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?
Name one thing their parents taught them.
Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?
What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?
If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?
Do they like children?
Kissing: tongue or no tongue?
Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?
What do they like that nobody else does?
What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?
Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?
Stability or novelty?
Honesty or charity?
Safety or possibility?
Talent or effort?
Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?
Would they date a fixer-upper?
What recurring dreams do they have?
What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?
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fatherbrat · 3 days ago
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LET'S SNEAK, AOT MULTI
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sum. various aot boys and how they fuck you while trying to keep your relationship a secret. inspired by lyrics from sneak by leon thomas :p
feat. eren jaeger. jean kirstein. connie springer. armin arlert.
cw. cheating/infidelity, missionary & doggy, face-sitting, a nasty blowjob, praise, riding/cowgirl, creampie, office sex, risky sex, hold the moan, reader has multiple orgasms, some angst if you squint, not proofread...
wc. 2.7k
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EREN JAEGER “can i fuck you in the daytime, daytime? even though that pussy isn’t mine.”
Eren’s moral compass is a bit skewed.
But you wouldn’t dare tell him that. He’d only throw it right back in your face, claiming you're worse. You’re the one with a boyfriend after all. He’s single. Technically.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” Eren asks as soon as he crosses the threshold into your home. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response before pulling his shirt off.
You close the front door behind you and sigh. “He’s out of town. Look…” You hesitate, not really wanting to finish your sentence, even though you know it’s long overdue.
Eren turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or even surprised. More like…intrigued. Regardless, the words make you wince.
“He wants to take me to meet his parents,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact.
Eren lets out a whistle. There’s a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, before you hear the sound of Eren unzipping his pants.
You stare at him. “What are you doing?”
He smirks. “I’m already here. Might as well go out with a bang.”
You don’t bother wasting any time pretending you weren’t hoping he’d say that. You strip, and almost immediately you’re pressed against a wall. Eren kisses you in a way that can only be described as needy, like he’s taking extra and stowing it away for later.
His hands are everywhere, squeezing and caressing and memorizing.
When he lays you down on the sofa, you aren’t expecting him to plant his tongue between your thighs.
“Eren–”
“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting his head to meet your eyes. “This is the last time, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Let me savor it.”
He makes surprisingly quick work of making you come and kisses you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. When he fucks you he does it slowly, agonizingly, eyes glued to your face as he watches your lips part when he bottoms out.
Your nails dig into his back. “Eren, don’t tease,” you huff. “Faster.”
He smiles down at you, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue. “What happened to letting me savor it?”
You squirm beneath him. “Fuck savoring. Fuck me.”
Eren doesn’t need to hear you say it twice. He picks up the pace, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he grabs your waist.
“Gonna miss this pussy,” he breathes against your skin. The way he says it is tender, a stark contrast to the rough way he pounds you. You wonder, just for a second, if he really means that he’s going to miss you.
But Eren can see your mind wandering. He taps your cheek.
“Hey. Pay attention. You haven’t come enough times to start losing your mind already.”
His eyes narrow as he takes in the sourness of your expression, unimpressed by his statement.
He huffs and pulls out. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around and get on all fours.”
You frown but comply. He rests one hand flat against your back, pushing you down into the perfect arch before he prods your slit with the tip of his cock.
“Gonna make you see stars,” he mutters, before burying himself inside you.
And he does. His rhythm is dizzying, and it has you biting into the couch cushions, groaning with every stroke.
His arm wraps around your hips so he can lay his hand flat on your lower belly. When he travels lower and starts to circle your clit, all the muscles in your core tighten. He doesn’t slow down when you reach your climax. In fact, you think he goes faster.
“Fuck, Erennn,” you whine, dragging out the last consonant of his name as you dig your fingernails into your palm.
“I know, I know. Takin’ me so well. One more.”
You try to remember what he’d always say, something about good girls coming in threes, or maybe third time’s the charm. Something that meant he’d always make you come three times before leaving. It’s hard to think of what it was when you can hear him slamming against your ass.
He draws out the third one in no time, calling you his good girl as you moan into the sofa.
It’s bittersweet when he pulls out, and you wish he would make you come in fives or something. Eren gives you a look that tells you he can tell what you’re thinking.
He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls his pants on and you can sense the goodbye in it.
“Take care of yourself, mkay? I’ll see you around.”
You watch him leave, wondering if you’ll see him for real.
JEAN KIRSTEIN “know you wanna keep this thing discreet. hear you calling through the streets.”
You’ve molded Jean into the perfect fuck buddy.
He’ll drop everything to come over the minute you text, doesn’t spread your business around, and always makes you come first.
“Right there, right there, fuck.” You grind against his face, throwing your head back as your grip around the headboard tightens. 
Jean hums into your pussy as you orgasm, grazing his teeth against your clit as you ride it out. 
Your body goes limp and he swiftly comes out from underneath you, laying you down on the bed gently as he peppers kisses across your skin.
“I’m gonna grab you some water,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving your room. 
You watch him go, a small smile sitting on your face. He’s become so attuned to you, always at your beck and call, willing to cater to you in any way you ask. 
It’s the kind of behavior that makes you want to suck his dick. 
So, when he returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice water, you ask him. 
“Do you wanna throat fuck me?”
Jean freezes, staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You suppose you have—it’s been nine months since the two of you started fucking and you have yet to go down on him (not that he’s ever complained). Still, you’d be offended at the look he’s giving you if it weren’t for the obvious erection growing in his pants.
You tilt your head to the side, eyeing his crotch before meeting his gaze. “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” he answers quickly, suddenly unfrozen and eager. He places the glass on your dresser, slipping out of his sweatpants and moving towards you. 
Jean watches you roll off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up on your knees and looking at him with an expression that almost makes him dizzy.
Something feverish blazes in his eyes when he stands in front of you, and you have to work to keep the excitement off your face when he tugs down his boxers. 
He strokes his cock idly, watching you look up at him. “You sure?”
This time you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I’m sure.”
He taps his dick on your lips, tentatively, and you open up. He shudders when you run your tongue along the underside of his tip. 
Jean cradles your head in his hands as he pushes himself all the way into your mouth. There’s a shaky inhale from him when he hits the back of your throat. 
“Oh shit,” he breathes. 
You close your lips around him, hollowing out your cheeks, and something in him snaps.
The speed at which he thrusts into your mouth is almost violent, and he moans when you gag, the pads of his fingertips pressing harder into your scalp. He’s already sensitive from being rock hard the whole time you sat on his face, and his sloppy in-and-out, in-and-out motion drags your spit everywhere–your face, his pelvis, even your chest. 
The feeling of him hitting your throat makes your eyes water, and you feel him growing impossibly harder against your tongue when you look up at him with glassy eyes.
He doesn’t last long, not with you looking at him like that. He’s mumbling an apology as he fills your mouth, saying if you weren’t so perfect he would’ve lasted longer. You’re grinning as you swallow down his cum, watching how his eyebrows furrow as he looks at your neck, and he kneels down to kiss you immediately. 
When he pulls away, he’s looking at you with a soft sort of wonder. Admiration almost. A bashful smile pulls at his lips. 
“Can we do that again?”
CONNIE SPRINGER “she like rich niggas, i’m her type. bored at the crib, she tryna pipe.”
conniiieee come over, im bored ;)
Connie smiles to himself when he reads your texts, his dick nearly stirring to life at the implication of your messages.
Despite your agreement to keep your… situation lowkey, he always pulls up to your apartment complex on his motorcycle, practically alerting the masses that he’s about to come upstairs and rock your shit. 
You meet him at your front door, scowling. “Why do you always show up on that loud ass bike? I know you have a car now.”
Connie just smiles, scooting around you to come inside. “You keeping tabs on me, baby?”
You roll your eyes and kick the door shut. “Sasha won’t stop raving about how cool it is.” You do air quotes around the word ‘cool,’ trying to imitate the lilt in Sasha’s voice when she talks about it.
Connie drops his motorcycle helmet on the shoe rack by the door. “It is cool. If you’d stop being so stubborn and take me back I could take you for a ride.”
But there’s really only one kind of ride you’re interested in right now! Which is how you end up straddling him on the couch, pressing kisses into the side of his neck.
Connie’s hands rest loosely on your hips, letting you grind against him as slowly as you want. Your breathing is shaky, sweat coating your skin, a byproduct of the last four orgasms. You lift yourself off him on trembling legs, higher and higher until just the head of Connie’s cock remains inside you. You catch his eyes briefly, and the mirth swimming in them is the only warning you have for what he does next.
His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, tugging you back down on his cock harshly. A strangled sound escapes you, air catching in your throat with the sudden movement.
“Con-”
He kisses you, cutting you off as he bounces you up and down. 
“Last one, mama,” he says against your lips. 
You can feel an ache in your legs from them being bent underneath you for so long, your head is fogged up with leftover pleasure, and there’s a pressure building up deep in your stomach. This is why you keep letting him come over all these months after your breakup. He knows just how to wear you out.
Connie pulls you against him, chest to chest, and wraps his arms around you. He lets you rest your forehead against his as his cock brushes up against your g-spot, forcing moans out of you that can only be described as wanton.
“That’s it, baby. Nobody fucks you like this, huh?”
You shake your head, your nose nudging his. “Just you.”
Connie practically purrs in satisfaction, right before he comes inside you. You melt against him, the pressure in your abdomen releasing as you cry out. Connie’s lips sweep across your jaw, patient and gentle while he waits for you to come down.
When you do, he leans back, eyelids heavy with contentment. You can feel him softening inside you. You already know what he’s about to say just based on the expression he’s wearing, but you wait for him to ask before giving the same response you always do.
“Y’know we could do that all the time if you’d take me back.” He doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he used to, like he’s grown used to this back-and-forth the two of you have going on.
You give him a wry smile, wiping beads from the back of your neck. “We didn’t break up because the sex was bad, Connie.”
He kisses you then, soft and lingering. “Worth a shot.”
He cleans you up and you let him take a shower and rummage through your drawers for the few pieces of clothing you never returned to him. When he’s leaving, he throws a wink your way, picking up his motorcycle helmet with one hand and unlocking the door with the other.
"Text again soon, alright? Love you."
ARMIN ARLERT “always down for an afternoon delight, but i can never crash and spend the night.”
“We have to stop,” you whisper halfheartedly, tangling your fingers in Armin’s hair as he kisses you.
Armin smiles against your lips. “Why?” he asks, his hands traveling down the length of your pencil skirt. He starts kissing down your neck, mouth going lower and lower until his fingers reach the hem of your skirt.
He pulls your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. You giggle when he turns you around and gently presses your cheek against the door.
“I’ll get fired if HR finds out,” you say, arching your back as he pulls down your underwear. Your wet cunt feels a rush of cool air when he does, and you gasp when Armin plunges his fingers in. You feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder as he presses his chest against your back.
“But she’s so wet,” he whispers in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like that HR could find out.”
You neither confirm nor deny, just humming and wiggling your bare ass in response.
He chuckles, the sound traveling straight down to your core. Armin doesn’t give any warning before he slips himself inside you. He pulls you away from the door after the fact, covering your mouth with one hand and wrapping the other arm around your waist.
The hardest thing (other than Armin) about keeping your lunch “meetings” secret is the fact that neither of you are particularly quiet. Armin muffles your moans with his hand and muffles his own by biting into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. There’s nothing to be done about the sound of his hips slapping against your ass or his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. All the two of you can do is hope nobody comes back from lunch early and walks past the copy room on the fourth floor. 
(But anyways, where’s the fun in it without a little risk.)
You moan into Armin’s hand when he hits a particular spot and he slows. He uses the hand on your face to tug your head back. “So noisy,” he says, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I know you want the whole office to hear, but don’t be so obvious.”
Your walls clench around him and he hisses, picking up the pace once more.
“You like thinking about our coworkers hearing you?” You shake your head, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves you to be a bold-faced liar. 
Armin’s teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hitching as his hips lose their rhythm. 
“Go ahead then,” he whispers against your skin. “Let them hear.” He moves his hand from your mouth and loosely wraps his fingers around your neck instead. 
Another moan threatens to escape you, but you refuse, rolling your lips between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet. 
Armin bites you then, and you gasp loudly. His thrusts become careless as he frantically chases his own orgasm. He brings his hand back up to your face, this time slipping two fingers between your lips and pressing down on your teeth so you can’t close your mouth. 
You can hear the faint sound of footsteps that signal the end of your lunch break. A door opens, and voices become audible as your coworkers get closer.
Armin smacks your ass, hard, and it’s enough to pull you over the edge. The two of you come together, him sinking his teeth into your skin to suppress his own moans. You bite down on his fingers, but it does little to help. You’re positive the entire office can hear you screaming his name.
(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡
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ariestrxsh · 2 days ago
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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, some fluff, some angst, mommy kink, edging, handjob, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: here are parts one, two, and three to me & u. 💖 thanks for being patient with me while i took so long to get this out, and there will be a part five to this story in the near future.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: while spending time with matt, you start to find out more about his past, which leads to your first disagreement with one another.
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me & u part four
"What if I came and cleaned it up for you with my mouth?" You said in a sultry tone through the phone. You smirked at Matt through the window after you watched him finish using his new sex toy, but he'd already grabbed an old t-shirt and was wiping up the mess he made.
"I'll tell you what. You can clean up the next one," he said in a breathy voice on the other end of the line. "I'd be honored," you replied, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension you were feeling.
"I'd love it if you came over, though. My dad's gone," Matt bit his lip. "What are we gonna do?" You asked him. "Anything you want," he responded. "Anything?" You wondered in a flirtatious tone. "Within reason," Matt chuckled at how dirty-minded you were.
"I'll be over soon," you replied, hanging up the phone and hurrying over to the neighbor boy's house. You let yourself in through Matt's front door, taking in all of the changes that had taken place since you'd last been over.
There were actually kitchen appliances on the counters and portraits on the wall of Matt in his younger years. You smiled, running your fingers along the frames and the glass before making your way up the staircase.
You turned the door knob to Matt's room, and as you swung open the door, he was pulling his zipper closed and still trying to catch his breath. He looked up at you and smiled. "So, what do you think of your new fleshlight?" You teased Matt.
"I think you know what I think," Matt playfully rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you leaned up against his door frame and looked him up and down. "Like is an understatement," he said, taking his toy to his bathroom to rinse it out. "Your house is coming together nicely," you called to him from his bedroom as your eyes glossed over the new additions to his space.
"Thanks. My dad and I had a lot of time to unpack today," Matt called back to you. You sifted through a few vinyls Matt had stored on a shelf beneath his record player. "I didn't know you were a music fan," you told him. "I mean, who doesn't love music?" Matt asked, coming back into the room and studying the way you ran your dainty fingers across his music collection.
"Yeah, but you listen to really good music," you replied, taking a Led Zeppelin album off of the shelf and slipping the record into the player. Traveling Riverside Blues came through clearly on the speaker. "What can I say? I have my dad's taste," he shrugged. You picked up Matt's journal off his desk and started flitting through the pages.
"May I?" You asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, I just came on the phone with you. I don't see why you can't read my journal," Matt chuckled and reached around to rub the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.
There was nothing written for the day the two of you had met, but there was an entry written for the day after. "I met my new neighbor yesterday. She's kind of a slut," your jaw dropped as you read the words on the page and peered up to look at Matt.
"Look, I know that wasn't the nicest way to put it," Matt said, walking towards you, prepared to de-escalate your anger. "Don't worry. It turns me on to be called that," your shocked expression turned to a smirk, and you continued reading the next sentence.
"She's really hot, and she seems to know what she wants. I like that about her. She's nothing like May. Who's May?" You wondered, glancing up from the leather book again. "My ex-girlfriend," Matt timidly told you.
"I didn't know you had dated anyone before," you relayed in a surprised tone. "We dated for about three years, but she's the only girlfriend I've ever had," Matt admitted to you. "Three years? Why'd you guys break up?" You wondered aloud.
There was a moment of silence before Matt answered you. "We ended things because I moved away," Matt said with a somber tone in his voice. Your stomach dropped. "So you guys broke up recently," you replied, fiddling with the leather cover. "Yeah, fairly recently," Matt said.
"So, you're not over her yet? I mean, it would be crazy if you were. It was a three-year long relationship that ended recently," You insinuated, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes.
"I mean, I don't even know what it means to get over someone. I've never had to do it before," Matt said defensively. "Why didn't you tell me about her?" You narrowed your gaze at him.
"It didn't come up, and I was waiting until the right time to tell you," he answered you. "Do you still love her?" You wondered with a hurt look on your face, and Matt stood silently, staring at you for a moment.
You shut off the record player. "It's a simple question, Matthew. Are you still in love with her?" You interrogated him with a bit of anger in your tone now, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We ended things a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to say no?" Matt asked, raising the volume of voice. "Do you guys still talk?" You wondered, taking a step closer to him.
"She texted me last night and asked me how I liked my new house. I was too high to answer her, but I texted her back this morning," Matt hesitantly admitted, shrugging his shoulder and sticking his hands in his pockets.
You didn't want Matt to see you cry, so you spun around without saying another word, bounded down the stairs, and ran out the front door. You headed for your backyard to be alone and collect your thoughts, climbing up the ladder to your treehouse as hot tears started falling from your eyes.
You knew that Matt and May weren't together anymore, but it was the fact that he still had leftover feelings for a girl he'd probably still be dating if he lived in the same state as her. Not only was he still in love with another girl, but a girl that, in his words, was very different from you.
On top of it all, you had always struggled with jealousy in relationships. Your mind raced through the worst-case scenarios. What would happen if Matt went back to visit May, or what if she traveled here to visit him? You wondered if it would change the way he felt about you.
You were wiping your tears with the back of your hand and sniffling when Matt poked his head up from under the treehouse as he followed you up the ladder. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he timidly said, looking at you with his big, blue eyes. "Did I say the wrong thing?"
You wanted to shout at him and tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to say anything to hurt him to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to hide behind your tough facade, secretly afraid to be vulnerable with him, but you couldn't look at him and imagine being mean to him or raising your voice at him.
"I don't want you to be in love with May," you blurted out as you started to sob again. Matt climbed into the shelter with you, his journal in hand, placing it in his lap as he sat beside you, wiping away your tears.
"It's just still fresh. That's all. It was three years, and the reason we broke up was beyond our control, but it doesn't make sense for us to be together, and now that I've met you.." Matt trailed off, rubbing your back.
"Since you met me, what?" You asked softly, lifting your head. "Well, you didn't even finish the journal entry, silly." Matt handed you his leather notebook, and despite your hesitancy to read on and hurt your own feelings worse, you opened it back up to the page you left off on.
"She's nothing like May. The more time I spend around her, the more I realize things I didn't really like about May and my relationship with her. Like how passive she was, how she always kept me guessing about how she felt about me, and the way she never disagreed with anything I said or challenged any of my beliefs," you read aloud.
"Wait, you actually like that I'm disagreeable and direct?" You asked, peering up at him, surprised because those were usually the qualities people criticized you for. "Yeah, those are my favorite things about you. It's refreshing to meet someone like you," Matt told you, looking into your eyes.
"I'm sorry I stormed off," you apologized. "I'm not upset," Matt assured you. "I just wasn't sure whether I was supposed to follow you or not."
You two sat silently for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes, and the magnetic force between you and Matt pulled you each closer to one another until your lips were locked. The chemistry between you both when you'd kiss was undeniable, and you could each confirm that you felt it through your body language in the way your hands would wander, never being able to pull each other close enough.
"Do you wanna get high and go lay on your floor and Iisten to your records?" You asked him, looking into his blue eyes and caressing his face once you pulled back from the kiss. "Sure, but I'm only taking one hit," Matt looked at you, wide-eyed and smiling.
"That's really all you need," you smiled back at him, reaching for your stash and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of a plastic bag. You lit it up, exhaling smoke and watching it dissipate into the air.
"Do you wanna shotgun kiss again?" You asked Matt. "Shotgun kiss?" He reiterated in a confused tone. "Yeah, it's where I take a hit, and then we kiss, and I blow it into your mouth," you smirked at him. He nodded at you, leaning in as you took a drag, the cherry end of the joint glowing and crackling as you gently pulled from it.
Your lips softly brushed up against Matt's, blowing out the weed smoke as he breathed in and gave him a couple of pecks before pulling away. He exhaled, expelling the wispy, grey smoke from his lungs. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Matt laughed in between coughs.
You took a few more hits while you silently stared at the cute boy beside you. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy and the whites of his eyes turned a bit red. "Let's go check out your record collection," you suggested to Matt, nudging him in the arm and putting out the joint.
The two of you descended the ladder as the sun sank lower below the horizon, leaving behind a bright orange sky in its wake. You followed Matt's silhouette out your gate and back over the path that led to his house.
You found yourself lying on Matt's giant rug in the middle of his room while he laid his head next to yours but had his feet pointed in the opposite direction. You both stared up at the ceiling as Riders on the Storm by The Doors came through over the speaker of the record player, sounding textured and crisp.
"Can I stay the night here?" You asked Matt, peering over at him and his glazed over expression. "I don't see why not," Matt shrugged, looking at you wide-eyed. He did want you to stay the night, but he was afraid that you had certain sexual expectations about how the night would go.
"I'm not ready to have sex with you yet," Matt blurted out, searching your expression for a reaction and wondering if he was being too presumptuous by saying that. "That's okay. I understand. Could we maybe do other stuff?" You nibbled on your lip, looking at him hungrily. "I think I'd be okay with that," Matt nervously replied, nodding at you timidly.
The two of you enjoyed your highs a bit longer as The Doors' L.A. Woman album played through its track list until you were both too tired to keep your eyes open. Matt switched off the light, and you, the record player.
The two of you climbed into Matt's bed, stripping down into your underwear, nestling under the covers, and cuddling. Matt couldn't help but to get hard with your half-naked body curled up so closely to his with your nose nuzzled into his neck.
You guys heard Matt's dad pull up in his loud, rust-colored pickup truck, casting shadows across the bedroom as the headlights danced through the window. It's not that Matt wasn't allowed to have girls sleep over, but he certainly didn't think his father would approve of it, so the two of you silently decided to keep your staying the night a secret.
A couple hours later, you woke up to some movement in the bed. You figured Matt must have been tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. You listened a little more closely, and you heard soft noises and labored breathing coming from him.
It wasn't long after Matt's dad came in through the door that he trudged up the stairs and made his way into his bathroom, turning on the shower and getting ready for bed. You and Matt laid in the dark, the only bit of light pouring into the room from a nearby street lamp, and you fell asleep shortly after in each other's arms.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you caught a glimpse of desire on his face while he grinded against his pillow, desperate for relief. You watched quietly for a few minutes as he rutted into his blankets and listened as your name faintly fell from his lips. You smirked at how needy he was being.
"Need some help?" Your voice broke through his breathy whimpers. "What?" He asked, immediately stopping and acting like he'd just woken up. "Help me with what? I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, you naughty boy. Are you lying to me right now?" You moved closer to him, speaking in a low whisper while you tenderly grabbed him by his jaw. "Wanna try that again, hmm? You gonna tell me you weren't just humping your pillow?" You asked in a quiet voice.
"I'm sorry, mommy. It's so hard. It hurts," he whined in a bratty tone. You started slowly kissing Matt's neck, and you felt his body tighten against you. "I'm gonna make it feel all better," you moaned against his ear.
"My dad's asleep in the next room," Matt said quietly before letting out a stifled moan. "Makes it more hot that way, doesn't it? When it's a secret? When you have to keep your volume low? When it's risky and you could be caught if you're too loud?" You cooed, gently brushing your fingers over the fabric of his underwear, exciting him even further.
"Mmm. I dont know," he softly purred as you caressed his member. "I'll stop if you want me to. You know, so your dad doesn't hear us," you teased, whispering into his ear and delicately touching your lips to his ear lobe before kissing it. "No. Please. Keep going," he moaned quietly.
You slipped your hand into the waistband of his boxers and started running your fingers along his length while your lips moved back down to his neck. You could feel each of his veins as you lightly grazed him, testing how much teasing he could take.
He kept anticipating you wrapping your fingers around his thickness and sighing every time you didn't. "Why are you teasing so much?" He softly whimpered. You gave him a gentle squeeze, quietly chuckling at his neediness.
Finally, with his cock in your grip, you started to move your hand up and down, stroking his length while soft, delicate whimpers poured from his lips. "How do you like that, baby?" You asked in a voice just barely louder than a whisper.
"I love it, mommy. Please don't stop," he begged in a hushed volume. "Good boy," you cooed back as you started to pick up the pace a bit. "You can't finish until I tell you to," you added at the end.
He let out a long sigh. "But mommy. I'm already so close," he quietly cried. "Then you'd better get ahold of yourself," you responded in a sultry moan. He nodded at you obediently.
You couldn't tell how big he was because it was dark in the room, and you were jerking him off under his blanket, but it felt bigger than average. You noted that your fingers struggled to wrap around his girth, and your strokes felt long as you pumped his length back and forth. You couldn't wait until the day you'd get to see it.
You felt a wet warmth between your legs as you listened to the boy whimper beneath you while you continued sucking on his neck. "Mommy, please," he whispered. "Please, what?" You softly cooed against his hot skin.
"Please let me cum," he said in a strangled moan. "Not yet, baby." You smirked as you brushed your thumb over the tip, spreading around his pre-cum and eliciting more clear liquid from his sensitive slit.
"Mommy," he desperately whined, struggling to keep his volume down. "Sh, sh, sh," you whispered back into his ear while you stroked him mercilessly, admiring his facial expression that was saturated with pleasure in the dim, cool light offered by the street lamp.
His eyebrows were brought together, causing a little wrinkle between them, and his eyes were tightly closed. He caught his lip between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his pleasured sounds, which he did poorly.
You slowed down, taunting him some more. "No more teasing," Matt said in a breathy voice. "Oh. Please, mommy. Mmm. Need to - oh - need to cum so bad," Matt managed to get out in a series of broken moans and stifled whimpers.
You sped the pace back up for him, covering every inch of his cock, sending ripples of satisfaction through his body. "Please," he said once more. "Wait," you told him in a quiet, stern voice. He nodded at you with a submissive expression on his face.
You slowed down again, drawing out the process, really making him beg for it. He huffed in response. "If you wanna get an attitude with me, I'll stop and leave you unfinished," you replied, slowing the pace of your strokes.
"Mommy, please. I'm sorry. I won't get an attitude," he weakly answered, gripping your wrist to keep you from removing your hand from his dick. "Then be a good boy for mommy, okay?" You whispered, taking your free hand and tilting Matt's chin so that he was looking at you. He nodded, releasing his grasp on you.
You pumped back and forth again, fisting his cock while he started writhing under your control. "Good boy. You're doing such a good job," you cooed. Your name passed through his lips a few more times along with a few oohs and aahs.
"Mommy, please," Matt sobbed. You ignored his pleas, continuing your strokes, paying special attention to the head every time you brushed against it.
You felt him twitch against your palm, his dick begging for sweet release. Matt was so close to the edge, graciously trying to hold out just for you, but he wasn't used to waiting to cum or asking for permission to finish, but he was discovering how much he liked it.
He was so grateful when these next words left your mouth because he didn't know how much more he could take.
"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for mommy?" You whispered into his ear before you went back to kissing his neck. "Yes, mommy," he pathetically whined. He'd been waiting.
You saw the muscles in his face tighten in the dim light as his cock pulsated in your hand, blowing his load into your palm. His orgasm lasted several seconds due to how much you'd edged him, and he emitted a few guttural groans before a smile overcame his expression.
"Good boy," you whispered once more, kissing his forehead. He looked up at you breathlessly with his big, blue eyes and a satisfied grin on his face.
You got up and wandered into Matt's bathroom to clean the evidence off your hands, and once you got back into Matt's bed, the two of you wrapped yourselves up in each other.
You woke up early on Wednesday to the sound of the birds chirping and the morning sun peeking in through Matt's window as it came up over the hills.
You drifted back off to sleep, your legs intertwined with his and your head buried into his chest while you listened to the sound of his slowing heartbeat as his vitals returned to normal after his climax. Soon, you and Matt were both soundly asleep again.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
You let out a big yawn, and you heard the cute boy beside you begin to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and your image became clearer as he adjusted to the change in lighting.
"Good morning, pretty boy," you said in a soft murmur. "Good morning, baby. You're up early," he mumbled back in his sexy morning voice. "I know. I have to work today," you told him, climbing out of bed and putting back on the clothes you'd wandered out of last night.
Matt reached for you with a pouty look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get to see you until after your shift. You leaned in and kissed him. "How do you usually get to work?" Matt wondered out loud.
"I usually just walk. It's only a few blocks," you shrugged. "If you get back in this bed and cuddle with me for ten more minutes, I'll take you to work in the truck," Matt smiled up at you. "Deal," you replied, climbing back into bed and wrapping your arms around Matt for a few minutes longer.
"If you want to go run over to your place and get dressed for work, I'll go start up the truck," Matt offered, grinning at you. "That would be really sweet of you," you softly replied. The two of you left Matt's room, tiptoeing down the stairs and trying to stay as quiet as possible to keep from waking Matt's dad and blowing your little secret.
All your efforts were for naught when you and Matt made your way into the kitchen, realizing Matt's dad was already awake. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading his Bible, and drinking a cup of coffee.
"Oh, good morning. I didn't realize you stayed over last night," his dad said, peering up at you both from the page, his gaze dancing between you and Matt. "Morning, Mr. Sturniolo," you timidly said, avoiding addressing the sleepover.
"Uh, hi Dad," Matt responded, reaching behind his head and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I'm gonna take the truck to go drop my friend off at work really quick," Matt said, picking the keys up off the counter.
"Why don't I come with you guys? So I can learn a little more about your friend here?" Matt's dad asked, getting up from his seat at the table and extending his arm for Matt to hand over the keys.
Matt gulped, knowing that on top of figuring out you had stayed the night, now he was also going to know what you did for work. He reluctantly forked over the keys. "I'll meet you guys at the truck in about a half hour," you said, giving Matt a quick, awkward side hug.
You couldn't get out of the situation quickly enough.
The whole time you were showering, changing into clean clothes, and brushing your hair and your teeth, you were dreading how awkward the drive over was going to be. You resented that this was only your second interaction with Matt's dad, who you really wanted to like you and approve of you.
You were afraid it would go how any other relationship you'd had went. Their parents would either outwardly not like you, judging you based on all the most scandalous things about your personality and not bothering to get to know the other aspects of you better.
Or worse, the parents would pretend to like you to your face and then would badmouth you to your partner in private, telling them how much better they could be doing and how bad of an influence you are.
You braced yourself for it all as you sauntered out the door and headed for the orange truck.
"You ready?" Matt asked as he opened the door for you. You nodded and nestled in between the two men as Matt climbed into the truck behind you.
"So, what do you do for work?" Matt's dad asked you, pulling out of the driveway. "I work in retail. It's this way," you said, trying to avoid giving too much detail about your job and pointing in the direction of the road he needed to take.
"What do your parents do for work?" His dad wondered. "My mom is a flight attendant, and my dad was a pilot, but now he works in air traffic," you responded.
"Ah, so they work in similar fields," Matt's dad nodded. "Yeah, they met at work. Fun fact, I was actually conceived on a plane," you told them both. "Shit. Sorry. That was an overshare," you said, putting your palm over your mouth once you realized you'd just sworn in front of Matt's very Christian dad.
He didn't laugh or find your quirkiness charming. Matt looked at you wide-eyed, knowing your humor wasn't going to land well with his father.
You continued giving him directions to your retail job, which wasn't totally a lie, and he cleared his throat and gave Matt a look when the three of you pulled into the parking lot of a sex shop. Matt stepped out of the truck to let you out.
"Well, this has been fun," you said sarcastically, feeling the thick tension in the air as your feet hit the pavement. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Sturniolo. Matt, I'll call you on my lunch break," you told him, leaning in and giving him a tender peck on the lips.
You could feel how warm and red your face was as you turned around and headed for the front door of your job. Your coworker, Carly was at the register, giving you an inquisitive look and watching the scene play out.
"Did your cute neighbor boy take you to work?" She asked, giving Matt a little subtle wave, and he waved back, giving Carly a shy smile.
"Yeah, and his very Christian father after he caught me sleeping over. Oh, and he didn't know I worked in the adult entertainment industry until about a minute ago," you added, looking at Carly with a deer in headlights look.
"Oh. That sounds like a very awkward morning," she said, trying to contain her laugher. "It's fine. You can laugh. It is comical, really. I just hope he's not in the truck, telling Matt that I'm a harlot and trying to convince him to stop hanging out with me," you expressed to Carly, tears forming in your eyes.
Her face softened, and she took on an expression of pity. "I'm so sorry. Come here. You know, no matter what his dad says about you, I'm sure Matt's still gonna like you," she said, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back while she comforted you. You wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye before it had a chance to fall. "Thank you for saying that."
Meanwhile, in the rusty-colored Dodge Dakota, your worst fears were unfolding. "Matt, what on earth are you thinking? Running around with a girl like that?" He asked angrily as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"Dad-" Matt started to say, but the older man cut him off. "She works at a place called Temptations. You don't see anything wrong with that? You think God wants you canoodling with a girl like that," he replied, giving Matt a somber look.
"A girl like that? What does that even mean? There's so much more to her than that," Matt defended you, raising his voice a bit. "Son, just be careful. Girls like that are trouble. I don't know if this is some kind of overcorrection because you're upset about May-" Matt's dad started.
"How dare you bring up May?" Matt glared at his father. "I'm just saying, son. You and May made sense together," his dad replied, shrugging. "Actually, dad. We didn't. May and I stayed together for so long because neither one of us wanted to admit we were incompatible," Matt scoffed. "What?" Matt's dad asked, completely taken aback by his kid's comment.
Matt and May's relationship was picture perfect on the outside. They didn't argue, they didn't complain about one another to their friends and families, and everyone envied what they had. Everyone thought they'd be together forever, including the two of them.
"I know this new girl is completely different from May. She's not a Christian. She's loud and domineering. She's aggressive, and she's overbearing. And she's honest. Maybe even too honest. She always says what's on her mind even if other people aren't going to like it. And I don't love her despite those qualities. I love her because of those qualities," Matt huffed, silencing his dad.
The two men sat quietly beside each other in the truck, mulling over what the other had said. Matt's dad was a lot of things, but unsupportive wasn't one of them.
A few more moments passed before his father finally spoke up. "Fine. Invite her over for dinner. I want to get to know the girl you love."
taglist: @gabri3la-sturns @lowkeyobsessedwthesturniolos @starzinasblog @mattsturns09 @sluttt4matt @heartsforsturniolo567 @nomusic-nodreams @freakbob15 @valkatriee @lyla-rose05 @savannah00 @shadowthesim @clara-sangster @slimshiesty @mattybearskitten @chrissturns-wife @sturnl0ve @poolover123 @geniusbean @secretfangirly @021409 @bernardsbunny @lovergirl0403 @yourmother29 @thepubeburgler @sturniqlo @saturns0rb1t @gregs-child @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll
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chrissturnsfav · 2 days ago
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𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉 | 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰
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you get a little too excited after hearing chris' new song that briefly mentions you, wanting to show chris just how much you liked it.
ᰔᩚ smut, bf!chris, rapper!chris x singer!reader, oral (male receiving), face fucking, praise kink, dirty talk, use of pet names, titty play
ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,452
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it’s late—too late, really—but that’s when chris does his best work. the soft glow of led lights lines the walls, bouncing off his chain and casting a blue sheen over his focused face. chris leans back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, watching the track play on the monitor in front of him. a faint bassline thumps through the speakers, followed by his smooth, rhythmic flow.
next to him on a chair, you lounge with your legs crossed, your baby pink nails tapping rhythmically on your thigh as you listen closely.
you've been known for your own music—sugary pop with catchy hooks and infectious beats. tonight, though, you're there just for him, in his oversized hoodie and sparkly pink slides, your hair pulled up in a high ponytail.
there’s a hunger in his voice as he raps that wasn’t there before, something raw. the verses hit hard, the lyrics sharper than usual. you can tell he’s put more of himself into this one.
then, a certain line drops—one that catches you completely off guard. his voice lowers just a bit, smooth but unmistakably suggestive, "keep ya tits around cause they nice t'look at", you feel a flush creep up your neck, unable to hide your reaction, as the implication lands squarely between you two.
soon enough, the track ends, the beat fading into silence. chris raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the look on your face. “didn’t think you’d catch that line, huh?” he says, smirking a little.
a faint smile tugs at your glossy lips, “oh, i caught it,” you say, folding your arms with a sly grin. “got a lot of nerve talking about me like that on a track.”
he chuckles, pushing his chair away from the desk and crossing the short distance between you two. “yeah? thought y'might like it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave.
you try to keep it cool, rolling your eyes, but the tension is thick, and he can tell you’re a little thrown. he leans in, one hand resting on the back of the chair beside you, the chair he's sitting in now between your legs.
“didn’t mean t'shock you,” he teases, his face close to yours now. “but i meant it. got pretty tits ma," chris grins, running his tongue over his teeth like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 
"i really liked it. really bold of you," you say back quietly, his nose brushing against your own and you feel yourself rushing with desire already with a small smirk on your plump lips.
"mm, yeah?" he taunts, his hand moving to rest on your upper thigh, "wanna show me how much y'liked that?"
your smirk grows and you nod your head, bringing your face closer to chris' to brush your lips against his. "i do," you mutter, your voice hoarse with arousal.
"get on those knees f'me then," he says demandingly, his blue eyes glimmering with lust as his dick grows beneath his jeans.
you waste no time in doing what he says, pushing yourself off the chair to get on your knees in front of chris. he smirks wickedly down at you as you look up at him with wide doe eyes, sparkling beneath the blue led lights.
he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, one of his hands slowly gripping your jaw while his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, "gonna jus' stare up at me or y'gonna do sum'n?" he mumbles.
you smirk up at him softly, shifting your eyes to his lap as you undo his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
chris lifts his hips up for you, allowing you to pull his boxers and jeans down to a necessary spot just enough to free his rock hardness out that's already dripping with precum.
you look up at him seductively, one of his hands moving behind your head and massaging your soft hair with a smirk of anticipation on his lips.
you spit in your hand, wrapping it around his base and he exhales in arousal. you then lick a long stripe from his base to the tip, your dirty eye contact with him never ceasing.
"yeah, keep those pretty eyes on me ma," he mumbles, his voice raspy with desire as you nod.
you wrap your lips into an 'o' shape, taking just his tip into your mouth before swirling your tongue around it. chris grunts lowly, gripping your hair tightly as you kitty lick his sensitive tip.
you use your other hand to slowly move your hand up and down him, seeing chris get impatient at your painfully slow pace. he grunts as he speaks, "c'mon, jus’ take it. show me how much y'loved that verse mama."
his fingers tangle your through hair, gripping hard at the back as he pushes you further down on his cock. you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat so quickly.
you give into his impatient attitude, starting to quickly move your head up and down on him, your tongue swirling all around his lengthy, hot dick as drool seeps past your plush lips.
“yeaaah there ya go baby, jus' like that, my fuckin' filthy girl," he mutters, continuing to push your head.
you gag on him again, coughing around him and he chuckles darkly through breathless pants, his grip around your hair loosening a bit to let you catch your breath, "c'mooon you can take it. you loved the song so much didn't ya? show me ma, c'mon i know you can."
you nod, flickering your eyes pricked with tears up to his face and he smirks, biting his bottom lip when you move your head again. your lips are stretched around his girthy cock, drool pooling at his base and dribbled onto your chin as you continue.
your hand moves at an ungodly pace, jerking whatever couldn't fit in your mouth as you continue to suck his cock like it's the best popsicle you've ever tasted.
chris' smirk deepens at this as he groans, biting his bottom lip and gripping your hair tightly again at the immense pleasure, "look at you, so pretty. always a fuckin' droolin' mess on my cock," he grunts. "now, lemme see those pretty tits i was talkin' 'bout."
you use your other hand to pull the hoodie up, bunching it at your neck while chris' free hand moves to squeeze your plump tit with a hiss of pleasure as your mouth continues moving vigorously up and down his wet dick.
"there they are, such pretty tits my girl's got, so pretty 'n perfect," chris groans, his hips involuntarily thrusting up into your mouth again which you gag at, making him moan quietly.
his fingers pinch at your nipple, making you moan around his cock. the vibration sends a shiver through his body as he grunts, beginning to push your head down again as he grows close.
"jesus—fuck m'so close, keep goin' f'me...my good girl, takin' my cock like that," chris groans, hissing in pleasure through deep pants. his hips begin thrusting up into your mouth as you gag and moan around him.
he moans under his breath, breathing heavily as he squeezes your tit hard, fingers tangled in your hair, "yeah, jus' like that, doin' so good, lookin' so pretty wit' those lips wrapped around my cock."
chris' thrusts into your mouth grow erratic when the knot in his stomach tightens, leaving you whimpering and gasping around him. drool drips down your chin, bubbling around your lips as you repeatedly gag, "shit," he grunts.
with one final thrust into your stretched out mouth, his warm cum shoots inside. his eyes roll back, his grip on your hair and boob tight as he throws his head back with a low grunt.
chris pants, coming down from the high before you pull your mouth off of him and catch your breath, wiping your messy mouth with the back of your hand with his load still on your tongue.
he nods at you, "open," he says between breaths. you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show his hot and white seed on it.
chris smirks, humming out a soft chuckle before he speaks, "mhm, now swallow it."
you close your mouth and he watches your throat bob as you swallow every drop. he nods in satisfaction, his smirk deepening before he pats your cheek, "good girl."
you smirk cheekily as you stand up and watch him pull his boxers and jeans back up, "did that answer your question?" you say with a giggle.
chris scoffs, standing up from the chair and rebuckling his belt while he smirks at you, "do i even need t'answer that?”
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𝗮��𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: chris rapping in the new video made me go feral. like he sounded so good i'm being dead honest. kinda feel like it could've been better cuz i got a lil lazy lol butttt i hope you guys loved thissss!!
thank you for reading!! <3
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@chrissturnsfav ™
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wolvietxt · 2 days ago
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𝓡ARE 𝓢IGHT !
pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : fluff, budding relationship au, grumpy x sunshine tropes wc : 1.6k
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logan had never considered himself much of a winter person. the cold never really bothered him, but he wasn’t exactly fond of it either. the whole idea of trudging through snow and ice didn’t appeal to him, especially not for the sake of fun. so, when you came bouncing up to him in the mansion’s hallway, eyes sparkling with excitement and cheeks flushed from the chill outside, he was already bracing himself for whatever half-baked idea you’d come up with this time.
"logan!" you called, breathless and grinning as you skidded to a stop in front of him. "come with me. it’s gonna be great, i promise."
he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "and what exactly am i comin’ along for?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "’cause if it involves gettin’ my ass handed to me in a snowball fight, you can count me out."
you laughed, the sound bright and full of warmth, and for a moment, logan’s usual gruffness softened. there was just something about you that always managed to slip through the cracks in his defenses. "no snowball fights, i swear," you promised, tugging on his hand. "just come outside and see. i think you’ll like it."
with a sigh and a shake of his head, logan let himself be dragged along, following you out of the mansion and into the cold. the air was crisp and sharp, his breath fogging up in front of him as he walked, and he couldn’t help but notice the way you seemed to bounce with each step, your excitement palpable. he kept a watchful eye on you, a protective instinct that had taken root sometime in the last few months without him even realizing it.
you led him to the courtyard, where the fountain had frozen over, a smooth sheet of ice glistening beneath the winter sun. there were a couple of old skates resting nearby, likely borrowed from the mansion’s storage room, and you gave him an eager look as you bent down to pull them on. "c’mon, logan," you said, your voice a mix of encouragement and challenge. "you can’t tell me you’ve never ice skated before."
logan huffed, glancing at the skates with a skeptical eye. "not really my thing," he grumbled, but he was already kneeling down to lace them up anyway. there was something about the way you looked at him - like you believed he could do anything - that made it hard to say no.
"don’t worry," you said, standing up and wobbling a bit on the skates before finding your balance. "i’ll help you. promise i won’t let you fall."
logan let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest as he got to his feet. "you think you’re gonna catch me?" he asked, smirking. "darlin’, i weigh about twice as much as you do."
you grinned at him, undeterred. "guess that means you’ll just have to hang onto me, then."
and that was how he found himself out on the ice with you, his usually steady stance feeling awkward and clumsy as the skates slid across the frozen surface. he hadn’t done anything like this in years - hell, maybe even decades - but you moved with surprising ease, your gloved hand slipping into his to steady him.
"you’re doing great," you encouraged, your voice soft and earnest. "just relax a little. don’t fight the ice."
logan snorted at that, the corner of his mouth quirking up despite himself. "easier said than done," he muttered, but he let you pull him along, his fingers tightening around yours as he tried to find his balance. every time he stumbled, you were there to keep him upright, your laughter ringing out like music against the quiet winter air.
at first, he kept his focus on not falling, but soon, the rhythmic motion of gliding across the ice began to feel almost natural. he still wasn’t graceful - nowhere near it - but you didn’t seem to care. when he finally managed a full lap around the fountain without nearly toppling over, you clapped for him, your eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "see?" you said, a bit breathless. "told you you could do it."
"yeah, yeah," logan grumbled, but there was a warmth in his voice that hadn’t been there before. "guess i’m a real natural."
you grinned and released his hand, skating ahead a little before turning to face him. "now try to catch me!" you called, pushing off and gaining speed as you circled the fountain.
logan rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. "you’re gonna regret that," he warned, picking up speed and chasing after you.
you laughed, the sound echoing across the courtyard, and logan found himself surprised by just how much he was enjoying this. maybe it was the cold air against his face, the challenge of keeping up with you, or the way you kept glancing over your shoulder with that playful glint in your eye. whatever it was, he was starting to think you’d had the right idea all along.
as he got closer, you spun around again, nearly colliding with him in the process. with a startled gasp, you lost your balance, your arms flailing slightly as you tried to stay upright. before you could hit the ice, logan’s hands shot out, steadying you as he caught you by the waist. he pulled you close, your breath puffing out in small clouds between you as you clung to his jacket to keep from falling.
"easy there," he murmured, his voice low and gruff as he looked down at you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes. "thought you said you weren’t gonna let me fall."
"i… was testing you," you replied, breathless and smiling up at him, your cheeks flushed from the cold. "wanted to see if you’d catch me."
logan just shook his head, a faint chuckle escaping him as he held you a little closer than necessary. "and what would you’ve done if i didn’t?"
"guess i’d just have to drag you down with me," you said with a playful grin, and he found himself laughing for real this time, the sound deep and unguarded.
he kept his arm around you as you skated together, your laughter mixing with the occasional scrape of the blades on the ice. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, there was a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a warmth that had little to do with the winter sun and everything to do with you. it was strange, letting himself enjoy something so simple, but it was easy when he was with you - everything felt a little easier when you were around.
eventually, you both skated to a stop near the edge of the fountain, your breaths coming out in puffs of mist as you leaned against each other for support. logan’s hand lingered on your back, his touch gentle and grounding, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the closeness.
"didn’t know you could actually have fun," you teased, glancing up at him with a twinkle in your eye. "figured you were allergic to it or something."
logan grunted, his lips quirking into a smirk. "don’t get used to it," he said, but there was a softness in his gaze that betrayed his words. "might be a one-time thing."
you knew he was only half-serious, and it warmed you to see this side of him - unguarded, almost boyish in a way. "well, in that case, i’m glad i got to see it," you said quietly, your voice carrying a note of sincerity that seemed to catch him off guard.
logan’s expression softened further, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. he reached up, almost absently, and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. "you’re a real piece of work, y’know that?" he muttered, his voice gruff but not unkind. "always gettin’ me into things i got no business doin’."
"maybe you just like having an excuse to keep me around," you replied, your tone light but your heart hammering in your chest.
his eyes met yours, a flicker of something deeper in them as he held your gaze. "yeah," he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. "maybe i do."
before you could think of a response, a cheer from inside the mansion broke the moment. you glanced over to see a group of the x-men gathered by one of the large windows, watching the two of you with varying degrees of surprise and amusement. bobby, rogue, and kitty were practically pressed up against the glass, while scott and jean stood further back, shaking their heads with fond smiles.
logan grunted, his expression darkening slightly as he turned back to you. "damn kids," he muttered, though the irritation didn’t reach his eyes. "can’t do anything without them stickin’ their noses in it."
"well, it’s not every day we get to see logan smile," you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. "you’re kind of a rare sight, y’know?"
he huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards again. "guess i’ll have to give ‘em somethin’ else to look at," he said, and before you could ask what he meant, he took your hand and led you back out onto the ice.
you let him guide you, the two of you gliding together in a slow circle, your hand
fitting perfectly in his. the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet rhythm of your skates on the ice. maybe you weren’t quite sure what this was between you and logan just yet, but as you skated together, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something good.
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🏷️ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen
@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h
@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun
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remlionheart · 1 day ago
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Dazai with a reader who got a HUGE oral kink, like they just cant stop giving him oral
₊ ⊹MDNI₊ ⊹
ft. whiney, whimpering, overstimulated dazai :(((
Dazai had little to no self control when it came to most things in life, but especially when it involved the feeling of your soft lips wrapped around his overly sensitive tip. The content little hums you'd let out in between breaths while you flattened your tongue and ran it faithfully up his length for the third time in only a few hours.
"Oh - fuck, fuck... fuck." He groaned, teetering on the verge of overstimulation. He wasn't sure what he'd done to get so lucky. Wasn't sure what he'd ever done so right to deserve a girl that loved to devour him the way that you did, but god damn, was he thankful to whatever divine intervention had led him to you.
Every time he thought there was no possible way he had another drop of cum left to spare, you somehow always managed to coax it out of him anyway.
“Angel,” he nearly whimpered, little tremors hitting his slender body in waves, making his legs shake against the firm grasp of your palm. “I’m - mmm, so… sens...itive - hah-”
His breathy obscenities went straight to your center, making you all the more determined to take him in deeper. A mixture of guttural moans and lewd slurping filled the room as you continued to grind against his leg. Your clit desperately searching for friction while your hand and mouth worked in perfect synchronicity against him.
“You want me to stop?" You asked, batting your eyes up at him through heavy lashes. You already knew the answer from how feverishly he kept thrusting into you though, his tip hitting the back of your throat in a way that slurred and strained your words. "All you have to do... is - tell me to stop... and I will...."
His mind was on fire - stuck somewhere between wanting you to go slower and faster. Easier and harder. "S'too much, angel" and "Don't you dare fucking stop."
He was delirious, spilling out the prettiest, whiniest noises as his long fingers tangled into your hair while he watched you. His mouth dropping open in awe. "I can take it." He gritted out, not ready to pull himself away from the salacious warmth your tongue was gracing him with. "I can take it. Keep going."
It was cute, how hard he tried to seem in control while being at the mercy of your touch.
"I just want one more," your voice was velvet across his tender skin, pleasure mixing with pain as you let out the softest demands. "You're doing so good," you praised, noting the way his eyes had began to roll back. "Good boy, just like that."
Having two switches in a relationship could be a real problem sometimes - neither one of you easily willing to submit to the other. It was a competition almost in the way that you'd both fight for dominance, but today - oh today, you had him right where you wanted him. Even if he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. Not with the way he was writhing under you and whimpering out your name in the neediest voice you'd ever heard from him. Cock twitching when the words, "good boy" left your mouth.
"Give me one more, baby. Just one more." You let the spit that you'd gathered up pool down over his shaft as your hollowed out your cheeks to take him in further, trying not to smile at the way his hips bucked up towards you. His grip tightening in your hair as more incoherent little nothings echoed out into the space between you. "Yeah, there you go. Look at you, you're so close."
"I'm -" he struggled, his pretty brown eyes nearly watering from how overwhelmed his senses were. "Fuck” he hissed. “I’m gonna -”
Your stare locked with his, a wicked smile splitting across your face as his release coated the back of your throat. Cum leaking graciously down your chin as you swallowed every last drop you could before placing a light kiss on his tip, admiring how swollen and perfectly pink it was.
He wasn’t sure if it was an angel or the devil himself that had brought you into his life with the beautifully depraved way you were looking back at him, but either way - he was fucking thankful.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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bengals-barnesbabe · 22 hours ago
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Frustrated ~ a blurb
word count: who cares
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
Joe was pissed. That’s as simply put as anyone could make it. The second he left the coaches’ room after another bullshit meeting, he was dialing your number.
They lost to the Eagles and everyone is already blaming him. Sure, he was gonna blame himself anyway, but he’s actually starting to get sick of it.
Sick of the organization using him as a coverup. Sick of Taylor not taking any kind of responsibility. Sick of the media flaming him whenever he moves- since when did his hair have to do with how he played?
So when you arrived at his home, in his shirt with your phone up to your ear, he said fuck it. He took your phone, dropped it in your bag, and then chucked it by the door so he could grab your hips and pull you close until your lips shared one breath.
The kiss was harsh, his need to devour you taking precedence over comfort. His fingers gripped your hips as his tongue controlled your lips. He nipped, bit, and sucked on your plump lips until your back hit the couch.
You had no time to wonder how he had moved you without knowing because he was back on you. Sucking dark marks into your neck, moving the jersey, his jersey aside to kiss down to your breasts until there was too much resistance.
"Why the fuck are you wearing this?" His voice is breathless and gruff as he asks what's supposed to be a simple question.
"I watched your gam-
In a flash, his number is pulled off your body, and he's back on your lips, muffling any other words that could leave your mouth. "Fuck the game."
The next few minutes were a blur as clothes were tossed off and his hands seared their path down your body until he was gripping your bare thighs as you sunk down on his thick cock.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He sighs breathlessly, into your ear.
You whine in response, your tight walls trying get use to the burning stretch. Your nails creating crescent shaped indents in his strong shoulders.
Rough groans and grunts vibrate your skin as he leaves slick bites and purple bruises on your neck to hold back from fucking up into you too early.
“Baby, tell me I can move- please.”
A whimper and a light nod give him all the assurance to slowly lift you and give you a harsh trial thrust of his hips.
It doesn't take long for all your discomfort to fade away, and enjoy the pleasure of him kindly bullying your walls.
But you can't not notice his grip on your hips tightening while his hips meet yours hesitantly and almost too softly.
His pearly teeth buried in his plump lip til it's red and raw and his head thrown back but not from bliss.
You slow your hips down to a slow grind, lean forward, and make him face you. "Joe?"
Your small voice calls him from his head, from his frustrations with his job, and he tilts it towards you. "Yeah, baby?"
His voice is filled with a rough need, only one you can satiate. He needs to feel in control, to forget about the outside world, to use his frustrations and feel whole.
You watch the turmoil in his ocean eyes while he waits for you to speak, not knowing where this will go. You gently hold his head, run your fingers through his growing hair's sides, and lean your forehead against his. "You know I trust you, right?"
He blinks, his eyes narrowing, and then he nods. "I know."
You smile, then place a chaste kiss on his bitten lips. "Then ruin me."
And just like that, he flipped the switch and stopped thinking.
⋆ ┊⋆✿°.┊✾.⋆ ┊
Main Masterlist
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289 notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 21 hours ago
Note
Yo!!! It's my birthday! Can I get svt members' reactions to yn asking them to suck her tits?
a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!! wish u the best! health, love, peace, success, moeney and lots of achievements ❤️🥳
seungcheol: raises his eyebrows at you with a smirk, looking cocky even though his cheeks are deep red. he leans back, flexes his chest a little, and gives you that look. arches his chest toward you grabbing your hair firmly and making you suck it it, he would throw his head back, moaning on the first lick.
jeonghan: just casually gives a little nod toward his own chest, like “here you go.” practically encouraging you with those lazy eyes, already half expecting you to go for it and enjoying the thrill of making you flustered instead.
joshua: he looks at you with wide eyes, blush creeping up, but instead of shying away, he rolls his shirt up himself and covers his face, chuckling low under his breath. he’s clearly into it but wants to hide his own reaction, letting you have your way while he peeks out from under his shirt.
junhui: bro’s more than down. he slides his shirt off in record time, pulling you closer and murmuring something cheeky like, “well? show me what you got.” he’s loving that you asked, and making sure you know he wants it right NOW.
hoshi: he’d giggle a little but then go wide-eyed, then go shy, scooting closer to you and sticking his chest out, practically pushing himself into you with zero shame. soonyoung’s fully committed to giving you exactly what you want.
wonwoo: deadpan but secretly horny. he’ll look at you over his glasses, raise an eyebrow, and just give a subtle nod, totally letting you lead but with a little smirk. “yeah, go on” enjoying it all internally while his cock will probably be begging for attention inseconds.
woozi: face absolutely burning red. he’s like, “you serious?” looking at you with wide eyes, probably covering his face with one hand and laughing awkwardly. but after a little convincing, he finally lets you, all shy but clearly enjoying every second even though he’d never admit it. would be a whining mess, and would tell you something like; “dont you dare to tell this to the boys, got it?”
minghao: he’s a MENACE from the moment you asked. just pulls his shirt up in one swift move and says, “right here?” important point: yall are in the car in the middle of the car traffic, teasing just waiting to see if you’re gonna back down. would moan SMILING when you wrap the lips around the bud, only waking up when he hears an stressed honk behind him.
mingyu: instantly flustered but he’s in. he gets shy, blushing, and he laughs a little before rolling his shirt up, covering his mouth with mihs hand trying to not moan too loud—pretending that he didn't loved it thiiiiis much. but he's squirming a little but loving every second.
seokmin: a whole shy mess but eventually gives in. he’s stammering, all red-faced, covering his chest with his hands like he’s a little embarrassed, but eventually he’s like, “okay, okay, do it.” he’s biting his lip, practically melting as you get closer.
seungkwan: he’s so surprised, like who offers that in the middle of the dinner?? his mouth dropping open, but then he just bursts out laughing. “oh, you’re serious?”
vernon: zero reaction on his face, he’d blink at you, maybe raise an eyebrow like it’s no big deal, then give a tiny nod, letting you go for it. “alright,” he says. you can feel his heartbeat racing under your lips, betraying how much he’s into it.
chan: cock raises inside his pants instantly. lets you go to town, maybe even wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. “can’t believe you asked me for this.” he arches towards you.
294 notes · View notes
crimsoncandy04 · 2 days ago
Note
hii omg out of curiosity... could u do a scara with a bratty virgin reader who teases him too much thinking she can get away with it. if that suits ur tastes that is 😊😊
Of course! I may not fit the entire idea of a brat myself, but I've been told I can act a little cunty now and then so I think I can do this one fairly well.
Scaramouche was just another annoying superior you had to obey. All the harbingers were pretty much the same in the aspect that they viewed YOU as lesser than. Which technically you were by law of Snezhnaya but that wasn't YOUR fault. You were only stuck working as a subordinate for the height deficient harbinger called The Balladeer because your stupid slut mother had gambled away a HUGE loan while she was pregnant with you and instead of taking responsibility, she fled the country and hadn't been seen since you were like 6.
But the fatui weren't just going to forgive a debt that large simply because of a disappearance. No.
A group of fatuus soldiers had knocked on your grandparents door one day, led by Scaramouche. They were given three options.
1: Pay off their daughter's debts.
2: Die.
Or three...
"Give the oldest girl over and have her work it off in her mother's name." Was what the pretty faced yet slick tongued bastard had said.
Your grandparents had recently been put in charge of your half brother too as authorities had taken him from your mother's home due to excessive drug use on her part. He was just a little kid, barely 4. YOU on the other hand were now a young lady. A young adult.
He needed your grandparents.
You had had a wonderful childhood already.
And so you bowed your head and agreed to go back with The Balladeer and his cronies to the fatui headquarters and officially join the ranks.
It wasn't that bad actually. Scaramouche didn't actually seem to care or not if you didn't do your job. But you were clearly the only exception as you often watched him treat others with a cruelty that bordered on ruthlessness.
Not that it was your problem.
You often sauntered into his office late at night to chat with him. Not that he ever stopped you.
"Hey Scara what's up? Ugh you really should get better lighting here. It looks so ominous!" You bitched as you hopped up onto the edge of his rather grand looking desk and looked down at him while he worked.
"Hey let's hang out for a bit! That stuff is just boring work things anyway! I never do mine!"
He grunts.
"I know."
You pouted as you tried to scoot a little closer to him.
"ugh you're so lame today! And here I thought a harbinger as mighty as yourself could multi-task easily! It appears I was mistaken!"
Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your behavior.
"leave. I'm busy right now."
You were feeling agitated now.
"no! I've been waiting all day to hang out and now you're ignoring me!?" You turn completely around so your legs fell over on his side of the desk now. Crossing my arms as I stubbornly stand my ground.
"I'm not moving until you at least look at me you stupid meanie!" You whined.
The pen in Scaramouche's hands suddenly snapped in half. Ink splashing across the tabletop caught your attention.
"I said leave."
"make me!* You stick out your tongue and pout even more at his tone.
"it's not like you're actually gonna punish me for being here like anyone else! Stop being such a big meanie!"
Suddenly his hand was around your throat.
"Is that what you tell yourself bitch? How amusing." He squeezed your neck. Just enough to make you dizzy as you felt Scaramouche rip open the front of your buttoned white blouse.
His eyes quickly looked you over with a predatory hunger.
"you're alright I guess. For a human anyway. You'll do."
You squeak in terror as he tears off your bra next. Gently running his fingertips across your nipples and causing them to harden. as your breath hitches in your throat, you feel an unfamiliar warmth in your panties at the sensation.
He then shoved you back onto the table top.
"h-hey what are you doing? Stop this at once!" You squeak anxiously. Being almost frozen in fear as you feel Scaramouche roughly lift up your shirt and expose your panties to his smug looking gaze.
"what? Not so tough now that you finally realize how insignificant you are?"
He traces the outline of your wet slit through the dampened fabric.
"how pathetic. Acting all bold and yet you're already shaking and getting excited before I've even touched you."
Scaramouche easily tears away the delicate fabric as he spreads your knees wide for him. He kneels down and closely takes in the sight of your exposed sex. Gently pulling your folds open to give him a better look at you.
You feel his cool breath against your inner labia as you begin to tremble.
Finally something clicks for him.
"oh? I see you've never been had yet. It's almost funny Y/N, at your age? Seriously? What?"
He pinched your clit softly
"too shy?" His raspy tone bordered on a seductive growl as you feel him rub little circles on your pleasure nub.
"ugh it's not like I haven't had chances before! I just didn't care for anyone enough to want to do that stuff!"
Your words were met with a jeering cackle as Scaramouche simply sighed and slowly began to ease two fingers into your unbroken entrance.
A strong ache filled your body as you moaned softly and saw blood drip onto his palm as you struggled to raise your head and see what he was doing at first.
Immediately he shoved your head back down and kept a firm grasp on your throat.
"stay still sweetheart. If you don't relax, it's going to be excruciating."
You felt him begin to slowly start thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy. Successfully popping your cherry as you blushed deeply and tried to muffle your cries using your hands.
He leans down and gives your clit a gentle lick next. Teasing you now as you whimper at the new feeling. More warmth filling your lower abdomen as you feel your legs tremble while Scaramouche continued to lap at your untouched bud. Deliberately trying to draw out the strange rising feeling in your tummy. You cry a little as you finally dare speak.
"Please... stop this... I'll pee!" You wail pitifully as his eyes took on a seductive look.
"That's not what's about to happen sweetie ~ don't worry, you're about to feel really good, I promise ~"
He released your upper body and began to focus more on stimulating your tight cunt as he fingered your sensitive walls and continued to gently suck on your clit. Giving it a little bite now and then that made your legs tremble.
Finally you feel your lower abdomen tighten. Your insides pulse as you feel yourself squirt. Scaramouche swallows every drop almost eagerly as he continues to tongue fuck you through your orgasm.
Only when you lay breathless and exhausted upon the table before him, does he finally free his rather large cock from the confines of his shorts, pressing the tip teasingly at your entrance.
"You were all bark just an hour ago bitch. Now you're just a whimpering mess. What happened?"
You felt Scaramouche slide his dick into your pussy then. The thickness stretching you beyond capacity as you wince and feel yourself whine a little.
"Do you realize your place now cunt? Maybe this will teach you to talk with a little more respect towards your superiors."
He began to slowly thrust into you then. Your oversensitive cunt spasming with every thrust as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.
Scaramouche leaned down to steal a kiss too. Shoving his tongue into your mouth as you held onto him. Swallowing up your cute and girlish moans of pleasure and pain as you dug your nails into his back and felt him quicken his pace.
He fucked against your cervix as he continued to press your knees upwards more as he got closer to finishing. Bringing your knees practically beside your head as he got a little rougher then. Forcing you into a sick mating press position as he claimed your virgin womb for himself.
Scaramouche groaned and bit your bottom lip a little as you felt him pour his hot seed into you after what felt like the longest hour of your life. His sadistic smirk widened as he pulled out of your bloody cum filled cunt.
"This will be your new job from now on. Don't bother refusing. You still owe me a debt. " He stuck his fingers in your dripping depths again.
"however, keep being as obedient as you were tonight and this sweet cunt might just pay it off sooner than you think."
159 notes · View notes
santanasaintmendes · 2 days ago
Text
g’day mate how are ya?
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Part7! to The Cosmic Girl Records!
summary: new year, new you, plus your new job! which also comes with a few difficulties when you have a big insta following and no pr training ollie bearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader
fc!: just some random photos off pinterest, all credits go to the rightful owners of the images used below
warnings: swearing, insensitive jokes, mention of being held at gunpoint, if any of these are triggering please scroll away!!
a/n: finally got the motivation to make the 7th part to the cosmic girl records also reader is 2 days younger than Ollie! Also if u get tagged by accident IM SO SORRY i swear it’s not on purpose. Also Lewis is driving for mercedes with kimi in this universe, i should probably make a post about the grid for this universe, anyways enjoy!
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liked by olliebearman, francocolapinto, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc and 3,920,443 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: new year, new me AANNND NEW JOB 
tagged olliebearman 
olliebearman: but NOT a new man, just to be clear 
 unfortunatelyy/n: hey there mr jealous wanna get off my insta page maybe 
 olliebearman: ☹️
landonorris: i feel like you say new year new me too often and nothing changes 
 unfortunatelyy/n: u know just how ruin everything 😔
 landonorris: that is true but you don’t have to point it out‼️
 user1: bro’s just accepting it at this point 😭
user2: SHE’S BACKKKK AND BETTERR THIS TIME 
liked by unfortunatelyy/n
mercedesamgf1: can’t wait to see you in the garage this season 💪
 unfortunatelyy/n: 💪💪
georgerussell64: Love? EWWWWWW
 unfortunatelyy/n: such an anti romantic. i’m telling carmen 
 georgerussell64: no wait 
 unfortunatelyy/n: poor mr russell. screenshotted or you may know it - screen grabbing 
 unfortunatelyy/n: or at least that’s what old people call it 
 georgerussell64: you dare? you dare call ME OLD?
 georgerussell64: HAVE U SEEN ALONSO (no offence mate)
 fernandoalo_oficial: um offence taken? 
 unfortunatelyy/n: WOAH u cannot be going around roasting rookies like that george 
 user2: SHE KNOWS 
 user3: of course she knows, she’s probably the only on there that even knows how to properly use instagram 
 user4: the sad truth. sad but true. liked by unfortunatelyy/n
 unfortunatelyy/n: very true indeed 
user5: i fear that y/n is the only one who’s chronically online 😔
 unfortunatelyy/n: i am, it’s such a hard life when the others don’t get it the memes i show them 😔
 unfortunatelyy/n: they’re just too old
 olliebearman: it’s such a struggle fr 
 unfortunatelyy/n: you’re old too so shush 
|
 olliebearman: I’M 19??? 19 AND LITERALLY 2 DAYS OLDER THAN U
 unfortunatelyy/n: poor ollie, when i was learning subtraction and addition you were already doing multiplication and division 
 olliebearman: i am so confused right now 
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liked by olliebearman, alex_albon, kimi.antonelli, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 4,920,228 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: IT’S RACE WEEK + my boyfriend with his boyfriend 
tagged olliebearman and kimi.antonelli 
User1: uh y/n? i don’t think you can be saying stuff like that anymore 
User5: i fear y/n will never be the same anymore, she is employed now 😔
user2: no filter y/n we love to see it 
olliebearman: seriously?
 unfortunatelyy/n: i’m such a comedian (i know ur giggling n shit) 🤭
 olliebearman: I AM NOT 
 unfortunatelyy/n: woah so defensive and for what 
mercedesamgf1: usually we only do pr training for our drivers but . . .  
 unfortunatelyy/n: good thing i’m not a driver then 😮‍💨
 user3: SHE DID NOTTTT 
kimi.antonelli: i’m gonna get you fired (can you send me the photo i want it printed out and on my dashboard for when i drive🙏) 
 unfortunatelyy/n: try me antonelli (yes ofc check ur dms) 
 olliebearman: NOW HANG ON JUST A MINUTE 
 unfortunatelyy/n: yes my love?
 kimi.antonelli: yes my little sugarplum with caramel sauce?
 olliebearman: 🤨
 kimi.antonelli: 🫦
 olliebearman: I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND 
kimi.antonelli: and now a boyfriend 
 user4: i’m on kimi’s side. it’s not gay if it’s with the homies 🤷 
 olliebearman: @unfortunatelyy/n send for help 🙏
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, lilymhe, kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc and 4,294,339 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: hanging out with my fav cutie patootie - oh hey ollie’s here too 
tagged olliebearman and kimi.antonelli
 landonorris: OOOOOHHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥
 unfortunatelyy/n: get out of here 
 landonorris: ok 😔
 user1: wow she really has him at gunpoint
liked by unfortunatelyy/n
kimi.antonelli: you are also my favourite cutie patootie 🤗
liked by unfortunatelyy/n
 olliebearman: just break up with me already😔
 unfortunatelyy/n: well who would i annoy then 
 olliebearman: kimi 😒
 unfortunatelyy/n: IT WAS A JOKE PLS COME HOME WITH THE ITALIAN FOOD 
 olliebearman: NO 
 unfortunatelyy/n: i’m calling the police 
 charles_leclerc: i would appreciate it if you would stop bullying my son 
 charles_leclerc: and calling the police on him 
 unfortunatelyy/n: not unless he brings the food back 
 olliebearman: fine. but only because i love you 😒
 kimi.antonelli: and me too 
 olliebearman: STOP TRYING TO RUIN MY RELATIONSHIP 
 kimi.antonelli: no.
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liked by olliebearman, landonorris, francocolapinto, lilymhe, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, pepemartiofficial and 3,849,928 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: just a little reminder that the aussie waves are ALWAYS OUT FOR BLOOD
user1: my anxiety looking at that second pic: 📈📈📈📈
 user2: my girl’s been traumatised by the aussie waves 😭 
 unfortunatelyy/n: she has indeed 😔 
 olliebearman: HAHAHAHAHHAHA 
 unfortunatelyy/n: i hope both sides of your pillow are warm tonight 
 olliebearman: GASP. how terrifyingly hilarious, still won’t beat you nearly drowning though 
 unfortunatelyy/n: I WAS NOT DROWNING 
 olliebearman: so you were just randomly yelling for help in the water while freaking out 
 unfortunatelyy/n: . . . i was testing your boyfriend reflexes 
 olliebearman: mhm sure 
 unfortunatelyy/n: okay the sass was unnecessary 
 olliebearman: 🙄💅
user5: they’re such couple goals i just feel single whenever i see their posts 😔
 user6: kimi’s probably plotting his next sabotage 
 kimi.antonelli: 🤫
 lilymhe: @unfortunatelyy/n ur so hot 😍 
 unfortunatelyy/n: you’re hotter 😍😍😍
 alex_albon: not this again 
 alex_albon: i thought we moved on from this phase 
 unfortunatelyy/n: it’s not a phase honey, it’s a lifestyle 
 alex_albon: your lifestyle is stealing my girlfriend?
 unfortunatelyy/n: yes 😄
 alex_albon: *sigh 
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liked by landonorris, kimi.antonelli, lewishamilton, olliebearman, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 5,928,658 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: FIRST DAY ON THE JOB  WE GOT THIS💪💪
tagged lewishamilton and kimi.antonelli 
user1: did lewis dirty 😭
 user2: what is going on with ollie’s hair in the bg of the third pic 😭
 unfortunatelyy/n: unfortunately it’s always like that 
 olliebearman: HEY 
 lewishamilton: DELETE THIS 
 unfortunatelyy/n: erm no 
 lewishamilton: i’m gonna fire you 
 unfortunatelyy/n: actually u can’t do that 
 lewishamilton: erm actually 🤓☝️
 user3: WOAH i did not know lewis was chill like that 😭😭
 unfortunatelyy/n: OKAY I’M TELLING TOTO 
 lewishamilton: DO IT I DARE YOU 
 unfortunatelyy/n: done. in less than 24 hours you will be an unemployed man 
 mercedesamgf1: y/n . . . we can’t fire our 7 world champion 😓
 unfortunatelyy/n: DANG IT 
 mercedesamgf1: so about that pr training. . . 
 unfortunatelyy/n: GOTTA GO 🏃‍♀️💨
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liked by olliebearman, landonorris, alex_albon, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and 11,759,390 others 
unfortunatelyy/n: i know we’re enemies now but maybe i can be happy for u just this once 🫶
tagged olliebearman 
olliebearman: ❤️ liked by unfortunatelyy/n
 landonorris: yuckyyyyyy 
 unfortunatelyy/n: ur yuckier 
 landonorris: no you are 
 unfortunatelyy/n: nuh uh 
 landonorris: yuh huh 
 unfortunatelyy/n: SHUT UP
 landonorris: NO
 unfortunatelyy/n: i’m calling ur mom 
 landonorris: now hang on just a second 
user1: y/n’s living that wattpadd engineer x driver life 
liked by unfortunatelyy/n
 user2: HELP SHE LIKED THE COMMENT 
 oscarpiastri: congrats mate 
 unfortunatelyy/n: are you happy being back in your natural habitat 
 oscarpiastri: what.
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a/n: thanks for reading! stay safe and have a good day!!
126 notes · View notes
ryebread0605 · 23 hours ago
Note
I want Jamil and Leona separately to top me, but softly😩
Very much agree YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME JAMIL WOULD BE A MEAN DOM THIS IS A HC I STATE IS CANON 
Gonna split this one into two hc lists, hope that’s ok! 
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Leona: 
Surprisingly can be sweet when on top
Loves to nuzzle your neck while fucking you, says it’s just to leave his scent but in reality it’s to feel even closer to you 
If you have a higher libido than him he will gladly buy you toys to help satiate that need
SOMNOPHILIA!!! This man will GLADLY let you have your fun with him while he sleeps only to crack one eye open with a smirk and pin you down 
Down for just about anything honestly 
Absolutely adores your little ‘meetings’ in the greenhouse while everyone else is in class
Overall would be down to please you in whatever way he can
“Oi herbivore, didn’t I tell you that you could just have your fun with me? No need to be so shy, come here and let me help you out~”
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Jamil: 
HE IS THE DEFINITION OF SOFT TOP IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS 
Literally the absolute sweetest during sex
Will make sure you are completely comfortable
Puts your pleasure above his (he feels really good too dw)
TONS of praise, man will compliment every little thing about you
Mostly quickies due to a certain rich boy with an inability to knock on doors before opening them
The KING of aftercare, will have your favorite drink and food already prepared as well as soft clothes and your favorite movie 
“my jewel, you’re doing so good for me. Always so well behaved, I love hearing those beautiful sounds from you~”
110 notes · View notes
kayhi808 · 3 days ago
Text
First Crush - Happy Birthday Abby Rose
Abigail Rose is turning 4 today! Daycare agreed to let her bring snacks to celebrate with her class in the morning. "Mama! Don't forget my treats!"
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"I'm not going to forget. But you do need to come here and put on your shoes." Abby waddles over & you lift her onto the coffee table across you. Groaning, "You're getting so big! What are you? 11?"
Giggling, "No, Mama! I's 4!"
"4? My lord, just yesterday you were my little baby," tying up her shoes.
Reaching out to squeeze your face between her palms, "I's always your baby."
You turn your head to kiss her palm, "You're right. You're always my baby." You pull her over onto your lap and you give her a hug. "Happy Birthday, my baby."
"Tank you!"
There's a knock at the door, "Oh! Who could that be?"
Abby runs to the door yelling, "Who is it?"
"It's Bucky & Uncle Steve."
"Mama!" Jiggling the door, "Opens it, pwease!"
You open the door, "Hey guys, what are you doing here?"
"Hey, doll," dropping a kiss on you. "I heard it was someone's birthday." Abby starts jumping excitedly.
"Happy Birthday, Y/N!" Steve hugs you.
"No-no! It's mines bertday." Abby runs to Steve tapping his leg. "Uncle Steve? It's mines one."
"What? Are you sure? I thought it was Mama's."
"Uh-uh, it's mines!"
Steve grabs her and throws her up in the air, "I tricks you!" Catching her in a hug. "I knew it was your birthday!"
Abby throws her head back laughing, "You tricks me!" Hiding her face in her hands, "You did it."
"Happy Birthday, Abs!" Kissing her cheek, "I'd never forget my favorite niece's birthday."
Bucky takes her from Steve, "Happy Birthday, Abby Rose."
"Tank you!" She hides her face in Bucky's neck. "Uncle fooled-ed me so good."
Whispers in her ear, "Then we'll just have to come up with better tricks."
"C'mon, we need to get going." You point to the kitchen, "I've got fruits, cupcakes and cookies and a bag of plates and napkins." Bucky puts Abby down and him and Steve collect everything from the kitchen.
*******
Abby is all smiles and practically skips all the way to school. "Mama?"
"Yes?"
"I get my bertday at scoon."
"Yes, so you can celebrate with your friends."
"And tonights?"
"Tonight, the 4 of us will go to dinner remember? The place with the fancy chocolate dessert."
"Flambu!!"
"Uh, fondue. Close."
Abby laughs, "Oh yea, fondue."
You reach daycare and Abby runs off excited to see Chloe and Mia. "Hey Ms. Grace, good morning. Where should they put these?"
Grace's eyes immediately are drawn to Steve and a rosy blush covers here cheeks which doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky. "Oh, you can place them on the table in the back. I have it set up there."
Steve follows Grace to the back and Bucky hisses at you. "I told you! Steve and Ms Grace got something going on!"
You laugh, "Would that be so bad?"
"No. I'm just saying that I was right!"
"Ok, honey, you're right. You're a super sleuth."
******
Abby runs to the back of the class with Steve and Ms. Grace. "Happy Birthday, Abby!"
"Tank you so much! Uncle Steve did you ask her?"
"Ask me what?" Grace looks between Abby's chubby cheeked smile to Steve's slightly confused one.
"Uncle Steve wants yous to comes to my bertday dinner tonight. We going to have flambu!" Abby claps with excitement.
"Abs, fondue."
"Oh yeas, fondue. It's chocolate and you dip stuffs in it! Pwease come, Ms Grace." Abby jumps up and down.
Steve smiles at her, "C'mon, you can't disappoint the birthday girl. Or her Uncle."
Blushing, "Thank you Abby. I'd love to come."
Abby does a fist pump, "Yes! I'm gonna tell Mama!"
******
"Mama?"
"Yes baby?" Bucky leaves to drop his bundle off at the back table.
"Can Ms Grace comes to my bertday dinner? I already asks her."
"Abigail! You are supposed to ask me first. What if I were to tell you 'no'? What would you do. Now?"
"Um. Say pwease?" Abby hadn't thought that far and now looks worried. "I asks hers to make Uncle Steve happy."
"Uncle Steve, huh?"
Abby nods, "He wikes her and she wikes him."
Kneeling down to draw Abby near, "I guess we can help them out a little, huh?"
"Oh yes, Mama! We needs to." Abby hugs you, squishing your cheeks together. "They's so happy." Giving you a loud kiss on your cheek.
You look over to Steve and you see him and Bucky talking to a kid. "Abby? Who's Bucky talking to?"
"That's Justin wit the big forehead."
You hurry to the back of the room while Abby returns to Chloe and Mia.
@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly
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courtingchaos · 2 days ago
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Feast
Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)
Word Count: 9.8K
Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃
A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)
Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence
NSFW 18+ No Minors
“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.
“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”
“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.
“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.
“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”
His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”
“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”
“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.
“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”
“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.
You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”
“I’ll find you one.”
“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.
“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”
“Will you go as Stu?”
Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”
“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”
“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”
By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.
“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.
“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”
“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”
“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”
“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”
You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”
He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.
“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.
“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.
“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”
Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”
In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.
It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.
It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.
“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.
Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.
“Oh no, you did not.”
He most certainly did.
The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.
“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.
“What’s wrong with my Bard?”
You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.
Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”
You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.
“No no, give me a little preview.”
You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.
“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.
“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.
“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.
“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.
“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”
He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.
His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.
His neck.
You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”
Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.
“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.
Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.
The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.
Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.
“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.
“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”
That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.
“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.
“Are you gonna be like this all night?”
“Do you want me to be?”
Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.
“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”
He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.
He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”
You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—
“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.
You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.
“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.
“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”
“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”
You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.
“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.
“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”
“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”
“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.
A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.
“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”
You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”
“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”
You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.
You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.
Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.
“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”
“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”
“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.
“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.
“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.
“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.
“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”
“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.
“Shit.”
“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.
“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”
Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.
“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.
“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”
He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.
You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”
“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.
“I’m in.”
An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.
“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.
“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.
One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.
“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.
Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.
“I’m not gonna bite.”
“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.
“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”
As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”
He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”
He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.
“And a gentleman at that!”
It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.
“I.D.?”
“Steve it’s me.”
“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.
“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.
A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“
“There it is.”
“What?” You laugh through your confusion.
“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.
The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”
It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”
His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”
You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”
“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.
“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”
“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.
You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.
“See that?”
You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.
“Should we help her or…?”
“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.
Hm?
You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.
“Steven?” You ask slowly.
“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.
“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.
“Something soft.”
The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.
“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”
“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.
Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.
“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.
You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.
“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.
“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”
You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.
“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”
You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.
“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.
Where you are right now, is it bothering you?
The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?
The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?
“No.”
This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.
He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.
“How is your hair so soft?”
Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”
“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.
Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”
“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.
“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”
“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.
“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”
“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”
“It’s for all of us, actually.”
2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.
“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.
“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.
“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.
“Yes Eddie.”
Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.
“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.
Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”
“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.
“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.
“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.
“You’ve never done this together?”
“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.
“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.
“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.
“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.
He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—
“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”
You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.
The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.
There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.
A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.
Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”
You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.
Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.
The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”
You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.
“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”
Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.
“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”
“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”
You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.
“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”
Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.
“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”
Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.
You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.
You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.
“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.
There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft
Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.
“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.
“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.
You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.
“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.
“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.
“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”
“Please.”
“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”
Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.
Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.
“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.
Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.
“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.
“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.
“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.
“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”
Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.
“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.
“What do you want?”
“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.
Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.
“Breathe, baby.”
Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.
“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.
The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.
“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.
“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.
“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.
“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”
You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.
“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.
“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”
Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.
It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.
Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.
“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.
“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”
You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.
“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”
You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”
“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.
Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.
“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”
“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”
“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”
He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.
“I’m serious.”
Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.
“I just—“
“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”
Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.
“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”
“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”
You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”
“No.” Steve laughs.
“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.
Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.
Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.
“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.
“You know he’s a tiefling right?”
That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”
“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”
Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.
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