#i want the image of him crying out! of my brain! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercy-burning · 4 months ago

Text

…I Wonder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!

———

ACT I: If I Had A Baby...

The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.

It was a start. A shot in the dark.

By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.

He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.

I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.

What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.

The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.

"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."

Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.

I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.

I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.

It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?

Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.

He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."

Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?

So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.

Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.

It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.

At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.

I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...

That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.

And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?

I hated even thinking about it.

And then there was the first paycheck.

Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.

Payment completely slipped my mind.

And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.

"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."

Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."

He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.

At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.

I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"

I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."

"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."

I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.

He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.

ACT II: If I Was A Lady...

The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.

Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.

It was a day, and night, I would never forget.

Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.

"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.

"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.

"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"

He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."

"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."

"Mmmm."

I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.

Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...

In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.

I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.

He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.

The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.

His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.

"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.

It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.

That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.

He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.

"We can't ever do that again."

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.

"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."

"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.

"You should go home."

"Okay."

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.

After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.

I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.

I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.

Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.

I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?

He texted back almost immediately; All is well.

It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.

Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.

I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.

Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."

There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."

"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."

"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."

"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."

"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."

Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.

I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.

"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.

I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."

"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.

I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"

He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night."

I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.

Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.

"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.

"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."

I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.

Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.

Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.

"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."

He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.

But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.

"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"

His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"

We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.

Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.

"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.

"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.

"Of course," I agreed.

"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"

Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"

"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.

"It really does! Do you want to come see?"

"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."

Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."

"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."

He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?

He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."

My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?

Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."

"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."

I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.

His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.

He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?

It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"

Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."

I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.

I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."

And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.

ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.

I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.

I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.

It scared me, but also deeply excited me.

Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.

Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Happy Birthday!"

He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.

"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"

"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.

As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).

"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"

I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.

So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."

I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"

The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"

"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."

As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."

The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...

To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.

I decided to spare him the wait.

"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."

"Really? No eggshells?"

I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."

Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.

Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.

He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.

I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.

"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"

He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."

"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."

I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.

"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"

"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."

"I love you, Auntie Y/N."

I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."

ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.

The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.

Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.

Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.

I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.

His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.

"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"

"My birthday was yesterday..."

He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.

"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."

I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.

"You're not my dad."

Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."

The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.

"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."

The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.

I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."

"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."

"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.

"Well?"

"I want to be yours."

He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."

And then he kissed me.

He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.

I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.

And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.

"God, I love the sounds you make..."

His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.

I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.

Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.

I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.

Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.

I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...

With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.

Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"

Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."

"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."

A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.

"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.

His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.

Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.

I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.

Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.

I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.

"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.

"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."

My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.

"Please."

The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Follow me."

And I did. I always would.

As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.

Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.

He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"

"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.

"You're not complaining are you?"

"God, no."

"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.

Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.

"Is this okay?"

I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."

Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.

No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.

Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.

His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.

"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"

My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."

"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.

Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.

"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."

All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"

"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.

He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...

"Never better," I responded earnestly.

"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"

"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.

"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."

I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."

"As you wish."

The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.

Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"

Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."

I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.

"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.

I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."

I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.

His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.

Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.

And he was making me come. Hard.

The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.

"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."

Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.

His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.

Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.

I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.

Oh, my God...

I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.

His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.

"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."

I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.

Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.

The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."

It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."

"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."

It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.

"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."

Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.

It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.

His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.

"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.

Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."

I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.

I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.

CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.

Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.

It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.

I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.

I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.

"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.

They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.

"Will you be my mom?"

Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.

Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.

Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.

"Yes."

THE END.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #mercy after hours

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thinkinonsense · 7 months ago

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ok so i had a thought😏😏 dbf!logan takes ur virginity and from then on u guys hook up whenever u get a chance (all the time). one night he gets done dicking u DOWN and u say u love him and he’s all like “we can’t do this anymore kid” very ANGSTYYY

i love you, i'm sorry- dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part two *mdni

"i love you, logan."

four little words that would send your world crumbling before your feet. the older man lifts himself from in between your chest, both of you panting post orgasm. nights like this had become a bad habit for the both of you.

from the moment logan first slipped off your panties in this exact spot a year ago, you had been wanting to tell him how you really felt. you wanted to tell him how you craved his touch when he wasn't around, how you adored the way he took care of you and most importantly, how this didn't feel 'casual' to you anymore.

seconds turned into minutes of silence, desperately waiting for logan to say something; anything.

"lo, are you going to say some-"

"we can't see each other anymore, kid." he says, avoiding eye contact with you as he pulls out.

"what?"

this wasn't real. that's the only sentence that your brain could form as you watch him put his boxers back on. you laid there on his bed, naked, vulnerable, with his cum dripping out of you and he can't even look you in your fucking eyes.

"ya' heard me." logan says, putting a cigar in his mouth and tossing your dress on the bed next to you.

"what happened?" your voice was trembling on the verge of rage and heartbreak.

"i told you a year ago not to bring that 'love shit' in here."

a year ago when he took your virginity. he promised to be gentle and to care for you. guess that didn't extend past sex for him.

you scoff, pulling your sundress over your head. "you didn't say that when you said you love how tight i fit around you or when you said you love how well i know you. was any of that even true?"

logan ignored you as he lit his cigar and waited for you to leave. you stand up and walk over to him, touching his chin and turning to so he's facing you.

"look me in the eyes when you kick me out of your bed." you spit angrily at the man you adored endlessly.

all logan could see was your eyes full of tears and your red puffy lips, trying to keep yourself together. deep down, he knew he deserved all the shit in the world thrown at him for him for breaking your heart. you would never understand why he had to be so cruel but his intentions were never to hurt you like this. it killed him.

"find someone your own age to love, kid." logan says, twisting the knife.

"don't call me kid, logan!" you yell at him. "i'm not a fucking child!"

"then stop acting like one!" his voice boomed back at you, spurring on more tears.

who had he turned into? you couldn't recognize the man in front of you. this wasn't your logan.

"so, you're just going to let me leave like this?" you cry, glaring at him. "give up everything we have all because you're afraid of me loving you?"

you didn't expect an answer, he already shoved your hand away from his face, no longer wanting the image of your broken heart haunting him.

logan wanted to tell you everything, explain why he can't accept your love because it will put you at a greater risks, but logically, logan knows he has to let you go.

"in ten years, when your ass is still sitting drunk on one of my fathers bar stools and he shows you photos of me and a man who can appreciate me for more than sex, a man who can admit he loves me back, you'll remember this moment because this will be the last time you ever fucking see me." you tell him rather calmly as you collect your shoes and purse.

logan watches you do as he asks and leave. if he was a better man, he would have done it differently; but then again, if he was a better man, he never would've fooled around with a twenty-something year old.

the front door slams with a broken sob escaping your lips. from the bedroom, logan could hear your car engine starting and that's when he could allow himself to grieve the life he would've had.

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cameronsprincess · 1 month ago

Text

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET — J.M

summary: you and jj have been hooking up in secret for a couple of months, but when jj starts trying to make it more, you have to quickly remind him that wasn’t the deal, no matter how badly you want the things he does.

CW: smut! 18+ only! fwb trope, jj maybank x kook!reader, toxic and abusive mom, family issues, strong language, smoking, high sex, male and female receiving oral, unprotected piv sex, finger sucking for a second, angst.

note: loosely inspired by my favorite song by nessa barrett, dirty little secret!<3

masterlists.

The sound of your front door slamming had you jumping, your mind swirling at all the things that could’ve pissed your mother off today. She was always taking her anger out on you, the one who didn’t deserve it…

To be fair, you deserved it sometimes, especially when you challenged and pushed her, testing the thin patience you knew she’d had. You weren’t sure why you loved pushing at your mom’s buttons, it always ended with harsh words and sometimes bruises from when your mom got a little too physical with you, her anger getting the better of her.

Your mom shouts your full name from downstairs, followed with a “Get your ass down here now!”. You sighed, pushing yourself off your bed and padding down the stairs. The house was eerily silent, give for the sound of the air conditioner whooshing to life. You find your mother in the kitchen, a large glass of straight vodka in her hand. Her narrowed eyes find yours, and you feel like a kid again, shrinking in on yourself under her gaze.

“What’s wrong mama?” you asked sweetly, hoping she’d be calm enough to talk like an adult.

Your mother scoffs, downing the rest of the vodka in her glass before she’s harshly slamming it onto the countertop, making you flinch back.

“Just a bunch of idiots down at the firm…” she pauses, looking around the kitchen. It was fairly clean, a bowl and a glass in the sink, but you knew that was enough to give her a reason to be mad at you. “And then I come home to see my lazy daughter can’t even be bothered to clean after herself, I mean.. C’mon, Y/N. I raised you better than this.”

You bite back the scoff wanting to escape you. She didn’t raise you at all. You were raised by nannies your whole life. Your mother was too busy working or drowning herself in liquor to care, and your dad? Well let’s just say he was a worthless piece of shit from the beginning, left when you were five, didn’t really know him.

“Mama, it’s just a bowl and a glass, I can clean it-”

The words die on your tongue, a sharp cry of pain escaping when the back of your mothers hand flies across your face. You cup your stinging cheek in your hand, tears blurring your vision as you force yourself to meet her eyes again. If you didn’t, it would only get worse.

“Honestly, honey, I don’t care to listen to your excuses. Clean it up. Now.”

You keep your mouth shut, lips thinned as you blinked back the tears. You nod slowly, walking toward the sink and washing the two dishes before placing them in the drying rack. You turn back around, finding your mother gone from the kitchen.

Letting out a slow breath, you turn and brace your hands on the counter, lowering your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your mind fills with images of messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A crooked smile that made your heart rate kick up a notch. JJ Maybank.

He was everything you’d wished you were, free. He’d understood you in a way no one else on this god forsaken island could. His dad was a piece of shit, always blaming JJ for his mistakes and problems, beating JJ black and blue. You two had an understanding, but you couldn’t ever allow yourself to have him in the way you wanted. So you took what you could get.

And what you could get from JJ was sex. Mind-blowing sex that allowed your brain to shut off, that let you forget all the negative things your mom spewed at you in a day, all the times she hit you or blamed you for things that weren’t your fault. Even when it was your fault, you loved going to JJ after an argument with your mom, because he understood you, and he helped you forget.

Pushing off the counter, you made your way up the stairs, passing your mom’s room, hearing the sound of her en-suite shower running, and into your room. You grabbed your phone off your bed, finding JJ’s name and sending him a quick and simple text.

You: I need you.

He read it immediately, the little bubbles bouncing across the bottom of your screen. His text came in and a smile pulled on your lips.

J: Come over, no one else is here.

You quickly jumped up from your bed, stripping yourself of your pajama pants and sliding on a pair of black biker shorts. You slid the hoodie you wore off your body, tossing it onto your bed before sliding on a plain white off the shoulder top. You quickly pulled your shoes on, grabbing your phone and car keys before quietly slipping from your room, down the stairs and out the front door.

The entire drive to the chateau— JJ’s best friends house— was silent, nothing but your thoughts consuming you. You’re not sure how you made it to the house alive, realizing you’d disassociated yourself from reality on the way there, but you didn’t care, you’d made it and you were ready to forget.

The old creaky screen door pushes open, JJ’s face coming into view on the front porch. He smiles down at you, watching as you slowly make your way out of your car. You stare at your phone in your hands, deciding you didn’t need it and tossing it into your driver seat. If your mom needed you, too bad. Maybe you were being ridiculous, maybe you were adding fuel to the fire, but you didn’t care. All you cared about right now, was spending time with JJ and forgetting the dumpster fire that was your mother.

You slowly walk toward him, stepping into his open arms the second you reached him on the porch. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, your face pressed into his bare chest and inhaling his scent.

“Missed you, princess.” JJ mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You pull back, smiling back at him, the tears already filling your eyes.

JJ’s blue eyes softened when they found yours, “Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No. Just wanna spend time with you and not think.”

He nodded his head in understanding, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, the screen door slamming shut behind you. JJ walked you into the living room, letting you plop down on the couch before he disappeared down a small hallway. He returns seconds later, a pre-rolled blunt between his fingers. He wiggles his brows, that boyish grin on his face that made your heart swell.

“New shit, it’s really good.” JJ says, plopping down beside you while flicking his lighter, letting the flame burn the end of the blunt. The smell of the blueberry swisher and weed filled the air as the end of the paper caught fire, JJ pressing the unlit end to your lips, letting you take the first hit.

You puff on the blunt a few times, inhaling the weed into your lungs as JJ pulled it back, letting a small cloud of smoke pass your lips seconds later. The weed instantly spread through your veins, making you feel lighter.

“That is good, your cousin?” you asked, giving JJ a sweet smile.

The smile drops when you noticed he was already staring at you, watching you, drinking in every inch of you he could with his eyes while he puffed on the blunt that lazed between his fingers.

“J?” you said softly, snapping him out of his trance.

He chokes on the smoke that filled his lungs, passing the blunt to you again while he tried to compose himself. “Shit. Sorry, what?”

You laughed. “Nothing, I just asked if you got this from your cousin.”

JJ grins. “You know it, he’s always got the best shit.”

You nod in agreement, taking another drag of the blunt before passing it back to him. You flop back onto the couch, your hands laced together and resting on your stomach, a comfortable silence surrounding you and JJ.

After a few minutes of the silence, JJ breaks it. “So… Did you uh, you come here to just smoke and sit in silence or?”

You snort at JJ’s ridiculous question. He knew you didn’t just come here to sit in silence and smoke. You look at him, your eyes glazed over from the high, half-lidded and soft. “You know I didn’t come here for just that, J.”

He smirks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He quickly smashes the burning end of the joint out in an ashtray that’s on the table, dropping it in before he’s standing and grabbing your hand. You giggle as he pulls you down the hall and into ‘his’ bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

His hands land on your hips, pulling you into him. He runs his nose up and down the length of your face, breathing you in and groaning. “Fuck I missed you… It’s been too long, princess.”

You smile, lifting on your toes and kissing at his neck, your teeth nipping at his skin and pulling low moans from him. “It’s been two weeks, J… Don’t be so dramatic.”

JJ fists your hair in his hand, yanking your head back so your eyes are on him. “‘M not being dramatic, baby. It’s just… Why can’t you just be mine? Fuck, I can’t stand this sneakin’ around anymore. I wanna love you out loud.”

You frown. “It’s not that simple JJ.”

“Yes it is that simple, and I know you feel what I do. You can’t fake a real connection, princess, and you know it.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, tears already blurring your vision. You wished you could be carefree like Sarah Cameron, she was dating John B, loving him as loudly as he was her. But you knew your mom. You knew this town. You’d be eaten alive if you got with a pogue… You shouldn’t care about that shit, but you did. You didn’t want to give your mom a reason to kick you out.

As if he could read your thoughts, JJ kissed you softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t think on it too much, we’ll talk about it again. For now, I just wanna feel you.”

You bit your bottom lip, so hard you tasted blood. Nodding your head slowly, you released your lip from between your teeth and kissed him. Your hands roamed every part of his body, touching, grabbing and scratching every inch of him you could. JJ groaned against your lips when your perfectly done nails dug into his back, dragging down and leaving red marks in their wake.

He turned your bodies, backing you up to his small twin-sized mattress and pushing you down onto it. The springs creaked beneath your weight, and JJ crawled on top of you, his hands already making quick work of stripping you of your clothes. You lay completely naked beneath JJ, your chest moving up and down quickly as your eyes searched his.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He rasped, pulling his sweatpants down his legs, his boxers following quickly behind.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your eyes drinking in every inch of JJ’s tanned and toned skin. You finally pushed yourself up and onto your knees, shoving him so he was on his back. You lowered yourself, your lips brushing a soft kiss to the tip of his dick, already dripping with precum. Your tongue softly and slowly ran across the tip, moaning when the salty taste of him hit your tongue.

“Fuck, baby… You want me to beg for it?”

You giggled, teasing him some more. “And if I say yes?”

JJ groans, his head thrown back onto the mattress as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head, gently sucking and licking at him before releasing him with a pop.

“I’ll do whatever you want if you just suck my cock, baby. Please?”

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip, smiling up at him before you gave him what he wanted. Your lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking as you slowly took him all the way down your throat.

A low groan escapes JJ, his fingers digging into your hair and lightly tugging as you continue to slowly move your mouth up and down his thick length. You push him all the way down, holding him there while your tongue moves against the underside of his shaft.

You slowly drag back up, pulling him all the way out to the tip. You tease him with your tongue, giving slow languid licks to his pulsing tip. JJ breathes out a frustrated breath, his fingers tightening in your hair and holding your head captive as he bucks his hips up, forcefully pushing himself down your throat.

Tears blur your vision, a rough gag pulled from you as JJ keeps himself held down your throat. He slowly lowers his hips, dragging himself out of your mouth, “Such a tease, baby… ‘M gonna fuck this pretty little mouth now, okay?”

The words you want to speak don’t even make it past your thoughts before JJ is brutally working his dick in your mouth, rough, hard thrusts of his hips as his hand in your hair keeps you held in place for him. You gag and slurp around him, drool spilling past the corners of your lips as you try and breathe through your nose. JJ’s dick pulses against your tongue, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your aching clit.

JJ breathes out a low curse and call of your name before his grip on your hair tightens further and he’s ripping you off his cock, strings of spit and precum flying and landing on his toned stomach. You choke on gasps of air, your eyes bloodshot and half-lidded as you find his intense blue stare already burning into your face.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful,” His thumb reaches out to swipe away a tear that’d ran down your cheek. “Switch places with me, on your back, legs open baby.”

You quickly obey, weakly bringing yourself to your knees and laying your back against the cool mattress, your head falling into the plush pillows. Your shaky legs slowly spread wide, baring your glistening pussy to JJ. He sucks in a sharp breath, his tongue running across his teeth as his eyes drink you in.

“Fuckin’ soaked, just like I knew you’d be.” He smiles, falling to his stomach, his face between your shaking thighs.

JJ’s lips form a circle, a cool blow of air hitting your soaked folds. You shudder, moaning his name as your fingers fly into his messy blond hair. JJ smiles, his lips pressing lightly against your inner thighs. His lips leave hot, wet open-mouthed kisses along the length of your inner thighs, teeth nipping and lips sucking on skin every so often.

“J, please..” You moan breathlessly.

JJ’s lips press a soft kiss against your swollen clit. ��Please what, princess?”

“Please… Eat my pussy, JJ. Please? I fucking need it.” you begged, your entire body tight and on fire as JJ continued to tease you with his lips and tongue.

He was so close to where you needed him, just a mere inch away from where you ached to feel him. Without warning, JJ sucked your clit into his mouth, pressing the tip of his middle finger inside you at the same time. You gasp, back arching up off the mattress as JJ fingered, licked and sucked at your pussy like it was his last meal on earth.

The coil tightened low in your belly, a warmth rushing through your veins as your inner walls fluttered around JJ’d finger. He releases your clit with a messy pop, his head lifting to find your eyes. He smiles, the sight painfully sexy as his mouth glistened with your arousal.

“Cum on my face and hand baby, then I’ll fuck you.”

His face disappeared between your legs again, his middle finger pushing in and out of you at a quick pace while his mouth sucked on your clit. His teeth lightly bit down on your swollen bud, making you gasp in both pain and pleasure. JJ soothed the area, giving slow and sensual licks with his tongue before he’s sucking it back into his mouth. JJ hummed against your pussy, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you. You came undone for him, body shaking and loud whines of his name spilling from your lips as he continued to suck and finger you through your high.

Your body fell limp against the mattress and JJ slowly pulled his finger from inside you. Lifting himself up to his knees, he crawled to hover above you. “Always so fuckin’ sweet, here, taste yourself.” He says before forcing his middle finger into your mouth.

You didn’t hesitate to suck on his finger, your tongue swirling around his digit, cleaning every trace of your arousal from his finger. JJ’s eyes darken over, a deep growl rumbling in his chest before he’s pulling his finger from your mouth and flipping you onto your stomach. His hands snake underneath your hips, lifting your ass up into the air for him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, did you know that?” He rasps, his ringed fingers gripping a handful of your ass between them.

Your hips sway, silently begging him to fuck you. “Yes. But I love hearing you say it, J.”

JJ breathes out an amused laugh. “Always were a humble one, baby.”

“You know me, I’m as humble as they come,” you lift your head off the mattress, turning to look at JJ from over your shoulder. Your lips slightly parted when you saw him gripping his thick cock in his large hand, giving himself slow pumps while he stared back at you. “Fuck me, JJ. Please? I need to feel- Oh, God.”

JJ shoves himself inside you in one swift thrust, bottoming out and stretching you open. His hands grip your hips tightly, the feel of his fingers on your skin burning you from the inside out. JJ lets out a deep groan, slowly dragging himself out of your pussy before slamming forward again.

His right hand releases your hip, running up the arch of your back and to the back of your head. He tightly fists your hair in his hand, yanking your face up off the mattress as he growls, “This what you needed, baby? Needed my cock buried deep inside this sweet fuckin’ pussy?”

You whimper. “Y-yes,” a sharp gasp escapes you, JJ hips brutally slapping against your ass. “Fuck, fuck JJ… Oh, God…”

JJ lets out a dark laugh, his hand that wasn’t gripping your hair landing a harsh slap against your ass. “Getting real sick of being a dirty fuckin’ secret of yours, you know that?” JJ grits out, his hand harshly smacking your ass again.

Your fingers dig into the sheets below you, tightly gripping onto them as JJ’s thrusts pick up in speed and roughness. JJ slows himself, slowly dragging out to the tip before slamming inside again. His fat head nudges at your sweet spot, knocking the breath from your lungs.

JJ continues his slow and rough thrusts, each one more painful and pleasurable than the last. JJ’s grip in your hair tightens, his dick shoving deep inside you before he’s yanking you up off the mattress, pulling your back flush against his front.

“Why the fuck can’t you just let me take care of you?” Out. Slam forward. “I’d love you, I’d make sure you never knew pain ever again,” Out. Slam forward. “But you want to care more about social statuses and your fucking mom,” He grinds his teeth so hard you swear they might break. “Than you do about me. You know how that makes me feel?”

Tears flow down your cheeks. You knew he was right, and you wished you could give him what he wanted. But you just couldn’t, not now anyways.

“JJ… Please..”

JJ pulls himself out of you completely, slapping the head of his dick against your throbbing clit once. Twice. Three times before he slams back inside. He releases your hair, letting you fall back into the mattress, both his hands gripping your hips so tightly you swore you’d bruise. The cold metal of his rings should cool your heated skin, but they burned, searing themselves into your skin the way JJ had seared himself into your heart.

You choked on a sob, apologies spilling from you as JJ pounded himself into you, the sounds of your sobs, moans and flesh slapping flesh filled the room. Your pussy flutters around JJ’s cock when he gives a particularly brutal thrust, his dick pulsing deep inside you.

JJ leans his body over yours, slowly fucking into you as he swipes your hair off your sweat slick face. His lips kiss at your cheek, neck and shoulder, his teeth biting down on your shoulder hard as he pulses and throbs inside you.

“I love you, and I wish you loved me back.” He whispers.

A single tear slides down your cheek as you come undone around him, your pussy clenching and unclenching, squeezing him tightly. JJ groans, pushing himself deep one final time before he cums, spurts of his warm cum spilling inside you.

The two of you are panting, completely sated and exhausted. JJ slips out of you, standing from the bed and pulling on his boxers and sweatpants. You sit up, pulling his comforter over your very naked body, suddenly feeling more exposed and vulnerable than you’d ever felt in front of him.

His sad eyes found yours. “I meant what I said, I’m done with the sneaking around. I love you, and you deserve to be loved out loud,” He pauses, running a hand through his disheveled hair before letting out a humorless laugh. “Call me when you figure out what it is you truly want, but until then, this,” His hand motions between the two of you. “This is done. I won’t be some dirty fuckin’ secret. I deserve more than that, and you know it.”

He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wanted JJ, but you knew it wouldn’t work. He was too good for you. He was and would probably always be, your dirty little secret.

tagging some moots: @quinnsbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @maybejj @maybankslover @cherrygirlfriend @rafescvntyclubgf @nemesyaaa @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon @jjslaybank @memoirofasparklemuff1n @kiiyomei @oceandriveab

#*ೃ༄ my works #jj maybank #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj smut #jj x reader #jj x you

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cherrxboy · 14 days ago

Text

I had this idea and I HAD to write it because I know my bitchass would NOT write it any other time (it's 5 in the morning and I haven't slept)

CW: explicit smut, I think - GN!reader - Mean!Satoru - uhhh rough seggs - Toru being an asshole - eating out/bj/whatever (reader receiving) - overstimulation I believe - a bit (probably a lot) of degrading/humiliation and stuff... he calls you a slut like two times - pet names used: baby, sweets, love - he refers to himself as "daddy" once but there's nothing else about that - mentions of death but like he's just joking - aftercare. (Not proofread) tell me if I missed anything!

English is my second language and I'm sleep deprived auauughh this is probably shit but I hope you enjoy hehe cause I personally love mean!Satoru he makes me go tehehehhehwojspsjpsj. Sorry if there are any typos ;((

♡

We've all read the fics, we've all seen the man, we've watched the show and I can't get this image outta my head, this little broken tape going off in my brain that Satoru is one of the biggest meanies when y'all are going at it. Doesn't matter what you are, what's in your pants, if you're giving or taking– he's mean.

Satoru is the type of guy that would keep you spread for him while he goes down on you, not caring if your thighs start to cramp or your legs feel sore. At some point it's not even about your pleasure anymore. He just wants to see how far he can push you, what new faces you can make, what little noises he can take out of you and Oh his favorite: how many times can he make you cum with just his mouth in a certain time limit.

He starts going and counts, each and every one of your orgasms, while also keeping track of the time. He's the strongest, he's definitely broken some records and one thing he really loves is breaking his own records. How many times can he make you cum in 15 minutes? How about 10? How about 2?!

"C'mon, love..."

"just one more, yeah? Oh I know, I know it's hurting but I'm almost breaking my last record, isn't that amazing??"

"Puh-leaseee? I'm making you feel good too, aren't I? Don't deny it, babe. I'm pretty sure everyone heard us with how loud you were being."

"No no no, I'm not saying it's baaad. Actually, makes me curious about how many noise complaints we can get in a week–"

Satoru is the type of guy to literally make fun of you while he's rearranging your guts. The type of guy that laughs in your face when you're crying all prettily, telling him that 'oh you can't take it' or how 'it's too big!' He's folding you in half at this point, not even letting you look away, hide your face in the pillows or anything as one of his hands keeps you still for him and the other holds onto your face, cupping you cheeks and squishing them together to make your face all pouty and adorable; you're just drooling and your eyes keep rolling back but Oh you better pay attention to him otherwise he's slowing down until you're begging for him to go faster and harder.

His thrusts suddenly become so weak and lazy and it's just not enough but he doesn't care, doesn't care that it practically hurts him too, he just wants to see you try and beg him to move with that fucked out lil brain of yours.

"Ah- Ah- Ah~! Harder, Toru! Puh-leaseee, faster, daddy!" As he giggles and mimics your voice (very horribly).

"Oh it's too big? But you're taking it so well, love, look at you! Shiiit~ I'm all the way in your tummy, see? Yeahhh well maybe you can't with all those tears but I definitely can."

"Hey, eyes on me, sweets– thereee we go~ Lemme see your pretty face, yeah?"

"What was that? Oh you're gonna cum? Again? That's a bit rude, baby, don't you think? You're being really greedy tonight. But it's okay, you can cum~ I'm feeling generous tonigt."

Satoru is the type of guy to pull on your hair when he's fucking you from behind, just to bring you closer to himself and make your back arch almost uncomfortably, just to whisper dirty ass shits in your ears that he knows would get you off.

He's got you on all fours and his free hand is on your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh as he pounds into you, sometimes giving it a little smack, groaning and moaning deeply against your neck and sometimes whimpering if you give a roll of your own hips as well. He's not shy and doesn't see why some guys hold back their moans... you seem to like it a lot, so he definitely won't stay quiet.

"Fuuuck baby~ you're so tight and so fucking warm– mmm! I'm gonna break you... uh-huh, you're gonna stay here in bed for at least a week, sweets. And I'm gonna take good care of you, yeah? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Staying here, full of my cum as we just cuddle and hide away from the world... I'll give you load after load, baby, as many as you want~"

"Taking my cock so fucking well, like a good little slut– no no no, don't you dare run away, sweets~ fuckkk... I can feel you squeezin' me, baby. You like when I call you that? Like when I treat you like the lil slut you are?"

"Oh fuck– please, give it to me sweets, please! Wanna feel you, baby, wanna feel you tightening up– shiiit.. just like that! I'm gonna fill you up so good~ just a little more, 'k? You can take it... yeah you can, good job~"

Satoru is the type of guy that's mean during sex but Oh so sweet afterwards. Man does not care how many rounds you've all been through or how tired he is... he's giving you a nice warm bath and a massage because he just can't have his sweet partner be in pain, can he?

He talks all that shit about making you unable to walk but god he thinks he'd die if he had to stay in bed with you for a whole day! He loves you, don't get me wrong. He loves spending time with you and just being with you merely in your presence but he's an active person to say the least and he can't just sit still for more than 10 minutes!

So you best believe he's giving you the best aftercare as soon as you guys are done. A glass of water to sooth your throat, soft towels to clean you up with, a nice warm bath along with a massage to make sure you won't be sore by the next few hours and finally he takes you to bed and cuddles you, kissing you all over your face and mumbling little "I love you"s again and again and again.

"You were so good for me today... such an angel. God, I'm so lucky to have you."

"I love you, you know that, right? I love you so much. You're the best thing that happened to me. I love you... did I mention that I love you??"

"If you ever leave me I'm gonna cry myself to death and then haunt you in your dreams and possibly fuck you there if you let me. Sorry, was that too descriptive? I just love you so much, sweets. You can't blame a guy for loving his amazing wonderful perfect sexy partner, can you?"

♡

First post and it's a thirst daaaamn. I'm not making a good first impression y'all I'm sorry 😞☝️

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igotanidea · 10 months ago

Text

Haircut: Jason Todd x reader

Inspired by the post from @pop-culturereference about what Jason's fans really want from DC (link here)

***

„AH!!”

An involuntary scream left her mouth the second she came home. Jason was not used to his girlfriend being so expressive, but protective instinct kicked in as he jumped off the couch he was reading a book on and immediately rushed to her side.

“Y/N! Love, what happened?” his hands found hers, squeezing them gently, trying to ground her in reality and assure her that whatever scared her so much was no match for him.

“What happened to you?” she sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Jason frowned “Look, I know I’m not exactly model handsome, but—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!” she wailed as if someone was tearing her heart out or squeezing her lungs.

“What are you--?” he tried again, quite taken aback by the intensity of her emotions. She wasn’t ever crying this much when he came home bloodied and bruised. She never let a single muscle on her face twitch while patching him up. But when he was okay, just chilling and for once – not getting into trouble she got into a waterfall mode. “Y/n? Look at me. Look at me!” he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on him.

“I AM!”

“Then you can see I’m all good. It’s all good! Come on baby, whatever fear took over your brain, you have to wake up from this!”

“Your hair!” she broke into crying fit again

“My hair?” he instinctively ran his fingers through his strands. “What about them?”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Oh.

Oh, so finally they were getting to the bottom of the problem.

He cut his hair shorter than she was used to and clearly she didn’t like it.

“Look, I just thought-“

“Was it Roy? I’m sure it was Roy. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him! How is it that I leave you guys for a few hours and you always end up causing trouble.”

“It was not—”

“Then who was it? Dick?”

“Ugh! As if I would ever let him anywhere near my head!”

“Then who helped you did this atrocity?” she pressed, taking a look at his inch-long strands.

“I did it myself.” He responded, almost sounding proud.

“You-you-yourself…?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stuttered. Her bag was dropped to the ground with a concerning sound of rattling, but neither of them care about the possibility of something being crashed. They had more urgent matters at the moment. The sense of betrayal slowly started creeping inside her heart.

“It’s just hair—”

“Just hair?! Are you insane?” she snapped at him “You should have asked me what I think first!”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me, Jason! You’re my boyfriend! It is not just about what you like! You can’t just act on whims without finding out my approach to the matter!”

“It’s just hair—” once more, the poor attempt at reaching her reason failed.

“How am I supposed to run my fingers through it now? And how am I supposed to live without your mop tickling me when we cuddle?”

“Y/n…” he smiled softly, cupping her cheek, meeting her eyes

“I liked them longer… I’m sorry if that hits your insecurities, but—”

“It does make me a little unsure, not gonna lie.” He chuckled. “But only a little. Cause what I’m hearing now, is that you liked my wilder look. For example when I was taking the hood off and have my hair all ruffled? Or when I was –”

“I see what you are trying to do here, Mr. Todd and I’m not falling for it.” Y/N read right through his intentions to invoke an innuendo and tried to step back.

“Come on, baby.” Jason quickly grabbed her waist, circling arms around her like two snakes, preventing her from backing out. “Admit it. You liked the bad boy image I had. It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Well it doesn’t anymore—“

“Guess that only means, I’ll have to try twice as hard… Cause too bad for you, sunshine, my hair is gonna stay like that for a while. So you have to like it. “

“Oh really-?”

“Most definitely. In fact, I think I’m gonna ditch the longer hair for good. This kind of haircut is so much more practical, you know. No strands sticking to my forehead when we get sweaty. None of them in my eyes when I fight only in the domino mask, no tangles and all that stuff-“

“You’re terrible!”

“Yeah, yeah I am, and what are you going to do about it baby?” he smirked and leaned forward, giving her a teasing look “you love me either way, we both know it.”

“Well maybe I should cut my hair too.” Her eyes glistened with mischief “you know- to match your new style.”

“What?” Jason turned a little pale. His princess was going to get rid of her perfect locks?! Over his dead body! (Even if that meant dying again.) “You are not!”

“Too bad for you I already made that decision. In fact I’m gonna go to the hairdresser first thing tomorrow—”

“I won’t let you out of here! You can’t just make such important decisions without talking to me first!”

“But I just told you.” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“And the answer is no!”

“It was not a question.”

“You are not cutting your hair. It is not only yours! It’s mine too! We’re a couple, practically like one being!”

“Well maybe if we attach some of mine to your head we can both have what we want?”

“I got a better idea. I’ll keep you trapped here for as long as mine grow back, how about that?”

“And what shall we do for so many months Mr Todd?” she hummed with a glint in her eyes.”

“Duh! I’ll make sure to convince you that the length of my hair is not the one that should be of your concern, baby…” Jason smirked letting his hoarse tone reveal what was on his mind.

Was he acting like a hypocrite? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Cause one thing that was absolutely sure about Jason Todd that there was only one like him in the world. Capable of twisting the words in a way that always turned the situation a little less serious. And whatever hairstyle he was sporting, she was not going to change him for anyone else.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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thinemoonshine · 2 months ago

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୨୧ 𝓵𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝓶𝐞, 𝓭𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝓵𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝓶𝐞 ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ in which enhypen find themselves lost, listless in the dark tunnel they’re trapped in—and (y/n) is their light at the end of it

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member contents: fluff, enhypen clinging onto (y/n), men who yearn, crying, mentions of bad media, (y/n) comforts, heartfelt moments, enha and (y/n) are very affectionate and in love (whether platonic or romantic is up to interpretation) type: imagine

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! and sorry i only included the hyung line :( for some reason my brain can’t think of continuations

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

“heeseung?” (y/n) mutters with confusion upon recognizing him through her door monitor.

he did ask if he could come but that was 5 minutes ago, he couldn’t already be here. but the sight of his black-masked face, capped and hooded head and doe eyes peering into the camera prove her otherwise.

she opens the door and heeseung steps inside without a word, not even a greeting and the door locks automatically behind him.

(y/n) looks up at his shadowed mien, unable to see his expression and his silence but she’s not the slightest bit intimidated. if anything, she’s worried.

“everything okay?” she asks and hee stays quiet just a little longer before wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek against her head.

he says nothing, just continuing to embrace her with a gradually tightening hold by the minute and she hears a small sigh escape him.

she doesn’t need to ask anymore. her hand reaches up to gently pat his back and he only pulls her closer against his chest. her legs are almost dangling, balancing on her toes from the unintentional hoist by heeseung as he clings and she wriggles to at least free her squashed face.

“want something to drink?” she offers and her soft voice albeit muffled rings in his ears like wind chimes and the jarring chaos in his mind goes mute.

his shoulders loosen and body turns limp against her as he drops his head onto her shoulder instead. “please.”

(y/n) chuckles with endearment and runs her hand down the back of his head—lifting his cap and hoodie in the meantime—and he hums at the feeling of her fingers massaging his overheated head.

“come on,” she says and pulls back while cupping his face—his lips jutted from her smooshing his cheeks—and she smiles at the sight of him blinking at her curiously, the knit between his brows now gone. “i have a lot of options to choose from.”

she spins on her heels again to walk ahead with a drop of her hands but just after her first step, he can feel a hand tugging against the back of her shirt. her chest lightens at the knowledge of heeseung clinging onto the fabric and the image in her head makes her chuckle and she continues on her way—not forgetting to offer him one of her hands from him to (very happily) accept by interlocking his fingers with.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

clink!

the glass cup chimes slightly when (y/n) puts it down on jay’s bedside table.

he’s caught the flu—a really bad one—and seeing as how the others have gone out, she’s the only one available to take care of him which, in her opinion, isn’t bad at all. as much as she knows how capable the others are, she’s not sure they can nurse him without getting infected themselves or making it worse.

(y/n) gently pats jay’s heated skin with a damp towel and he stirs at that. his brows knit and lips part as a small strained breath escapes before his heavy eyes flutter open by the slightest to peer at her.

“sorry…” he croaks suddenly while she’s putting away the towel and she looks at him with soft confusion.

“what for?”

jay says nothing at first, tired and he gulps thickly. “for…burdening you. it’s your off day.”

(y/n) smiles at this and she cups his cheek—him leaning into the touch as he looks up. “i wouldn’t know what to do anyway so i’d rather take care of you any day.”

“you’re just saying that,” jay scoffs weakly, amused, but he can’t ignore the flutter he feels inside.

“i’m being honest!” the girl claims and pulls her hand away to cool his face down with the towel again. the noticeably heating skin making her worry.

jay doesn’t go back to sleep after, instead opting for watching her work as she combs his hair out of his face, fix his sheets and softly massages his hands and arms so they won’t be sore.

and suddenly, he finds his vision blurring as hot tears cascade down the corners of his eyes. his jaw’s clenched tight and he turns his face away to hide himself—a futile attempt.

“are you hurting? where is it?” she asks, concern painted on her face as she starts to run her feathery touch across his arms and shoulders to find the source.

jay only shakes his head and he inhales sharply to suppress his emotions but his debilitated self hinders him from following through. a tear turns to many and he swallows a sob into a croak.

“jay…?” (y/n) calls gingerly and cups his cheek to turn his face towards her—heart breaking at the sight of his glossy eyes and flushed, wet skin. “what’s going on?”

“it’s just t-tough,” he says vaguely. “i’m missing a lot. i—everything is just so hard. to catch up, i—”

he’s cut off by a strained sob and he brings the heels of his palms to press on his eyes. he’s not want to hide his tears, knowing that it’s a normal human thing and if any of the members was to cry, he’d rather them show it rather than hide.

but never did he imagine that what would set him off is the unabashed, limitless comfort that (y/n) spoils him with. never could he guess that the tenderness of her touches and attentiveness are what would wreck his dam—freeing the untamed turbulence of his mind.

it’s not just about being sick, missing schedules and having to catch up. it’s deeper than that—and all it took was (y/n) just being to unlock that.

and she knows.

“stop, i’m sweaty,” jay groans and pulls himself away when (y/n) started to lay herself beside him.

“i don’t care,” she chirps with a shrug and the other scoffs weakly—his lips pulling to a soft, amused smirk.

“well, you should because i’m sick and i’ll infect you,” he says hoarsely but the way his body turns and curls towards her belie his words.

she grins and brings a hand up to continue caressing his head—which he greatly favours if the way he nudges against it is any indication—before she pushes down slightly to bring him closer to the crook of her neck. “like i’d push away a chance to stay home.”

her joke manages to squeeze out a chuckle from him and the faucets of his eyes twist to a stop as his breaths deepen and relax the longer he stays in her embrace.

her scent and presence healing him more than any pills and syrup can ever achieve—his own arms curling around her and pulling her close almost to a suffocating level.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

puppy. that’s the signature animal assigned to jake given his golden retriever tendencies and pretty, puppy eyes. not to mention the fluffy hair. but that’s all there is to it. just a label.

so why is it that he finds himself sitting outside (y/n)’s bedroom door at the vacation house like a dog put on time out?

with his knees to his chest, sad eyes staring at his toes and bottom lip jutted slightly as his mind both thinks of everything and nothing at the same time.

his eyes are wide open, awake despite the midnight hour and his ears are alert for any sound that might come from (y/n)’s room. the slightest creak makes him perk while every thud makes him turn his head quickly to check if the door’s opening.

he misses her. badly.

a while before, unable to fall asleep, he decided to do something that could make or break a celebrity’s day: search up his name. while most are of good things, he can’t simply ignore some that point out the bad—from finding the faults in his dance moves and flaws in his vocals—that absolutely kills his self-esteem.

even when these ‘negatives’ are sometimes exaggerated to the point of it actually being non-existent in the first place, he can’t help but feel belittled and…insufficient.

and in the moment, the first person that popped in his mind is (y/n). sadly, it’s 2 in the morning.

so all he can do is hide his face in his arms that are folded over his knees pulled against his chest—hoping, wishing that her presence behind the door is enough to satiate his longing.

“jake…?”

his head shoots up and he turns. an angel?

no. it’s (y/n) standing in the gap of her now open door with her oversized cartoon nightdress and a bird’s nest on top of her head. her eyes are squinting, weakened by the corridor’s light as she tries to focus on him.

“why are you sitting in front of my room?”

jake gasps softly, as if unbelieving of how his prayer has been answered and he’s quick to go on his feet. “i…wanted to see you.”

it doesn’t take a rocket genius to figure out something was wrong and she doesn’t hesitate to invite him in which he immediately accepts with his whole being—zooming through and standing in the centre of her room like a pole, waiting, before being pulled by her to sit on the edge of her bed.

“what’s up?” she asks in a murmur, the sleepiness still in her system and jake aches at the sight.

he didn’t mean to wake her. but as selfish as it sounds, part of him (most of him) can’t help but feel relieved and happy that she is.

“i just saw some comments online,” he quietly confesses as he fiddles with his fingers on his lap, embarrassed. as normal as it is, he can’t help but feel slightly ashamed that he’s so affected by some random onlookers online who probably have nothing else better to do.

yet, the moment he lifts his timid gaze up to her again, he’s almost given whiplash at how intense and sharp the glare she wears is. the drowsiness completely erased as she’s more taken by irritation.

but he knows it’s not for him. never for him. and that fact is already working as a balm to his burns.

“those people know nothing. and i mean nothing about you,” she hisses but is careful to keep her voice calm and her hands fly to cup his cheeks—smooshing them so his lips pucker and his eyes widen with surprise. she pulls him closer to her face. “they don’t know how much of a big sweetheart you are. how you’re so talented and skilled and overwhelmingly charming, handsome, beautiful that i don’t think you’re even real sometimes.”

her words make warmth spread from his chest and his cheeks start to glow a sweet red that you can almost see them even in the dim room.

“really?” he asks with a grin between his squished cheeks land (y/n) nods vigorously.

“of course! you’re such bundle of greatness that even i can’t compete with how much aura you got,” she jokes using the slang terms that make them both giggle but they know how much she actually means it.

jake’s grin seems permanent now and he lifts his hands to gently pull hers down from his face and interlock his fingers between. “you don’t have to compete. we can share.”

“oh? and you’re generous too? your great qualities are limitless!” she adds which he can’t help but titter shyly to before covering it up with a wiggle of his brows.

their soft chuckles fill the room before they’re enveloped in a calm, comforting silence.

her yawn breaks it momentarily after and jake’s just about to leave with a show of gratitude but he’s stopped when (y/n) mindlessly goes under the covers and pats the space beside her.

“slumber party~” she sleepily sings with a dopey smile and jake’s heart squeezes and pops at the sight.

slowly, he joins her and reaches to bring one of her hands to cup between his—hugging it like some kind of teddy bear as he nuzzles against it.

“thank you, (y/n),” he softly says, warm breath fanning over her knuckles when he suddenly hears a small snore escape from her.

he looks at her, surprised at how quickly she fell back to sleep before grinning, amused. his eyes fall back to her hand he holds, the noticeable size difference making him coo and he glances back up to check whether she’s still asleep before placing a loving tender kiss in her palm.

one that speaks many without words.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ding dong!

(y/n) heads to the door mid her night skincare routine, one hand still fixing her mask while the other presses on the monitor. “sunghoon?”

she swings the door open, able to recognize him even with the layers he wears and he lifts his head—revealing his round eyes and dark, luxuriant brows previously shadowed by his cap. “hey. you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

sunghoon shifts his weight from one foot to the other and his hands stuffed in his pocket try to dig deeper down if only his pants would allow it.

“sorry,” he muffles into the scarf wrapped around his neck and (y/n) shakes her head before opening the door wider.

“don’t be. you’re welcome anytime, i was just surprised,” she says casually with a shrug and steps back into her home let him in.

the door automatically shuts behind them and it chimes.

“make yourself at home. i’m going to finish my skincare and—“

she stops suddenly, both in her tracks and sentence before turning around with a cheeky tight-lipped smile. sunghoon blinks, also paused in the middle of freeing himself from his stuffy extra covers for discretion.

“what?” he asks, eyes wide with confusion.

“wanna do skincare with me? i’ll do all the work! you’ll be my customer like in a little beauty salon!” (y/n) offers and sunghoon’s scarf slowly drops from his shoulder as he thinks.

to be honest, he’d rather not. he wants to just lie down on the couch and rest peacefully as he basks in the cozy, homey atmosphere of (y/n)’s place.

so how’d he end up with a cold face mask on, a fluffy headband pushing his hair back and his hand being in (y/n)’s hold as she paints his nails with a serum?

“want more fruit?” she asks, focused on his fingers and he nods. without pulling her eyes away from his hand, she reaches behind to her coffee table, stabs a small cut of honeydew from its bowl before feeding it to his lips with great precision and sunghoon, still amazed as he was times before, opens his mouth to take it.

he watches as she intently applies the gloss onto his nails and cuticles, taking in the way her brows furrow slightly to how her jaw tightens and lips part whenever she realizes she’s gritting her teeth.

then suddenly she looks up and their eyes meet. his breaths hitch.

“hm?” she hums and sunghoon raises his brows in wonder before seeing his hand resting on her crown.

when did that get there?

sunghoon’s pale rosy lips part, wanting to utter the single word ‘nothing.’ like always. he can say ‘nothing.’

but why must he?

“thank you…for this. i didn’t know i needed it,” he starts and slowly pats her head. “i actually came because i was so…exhausted. i needed a break.”

he doesn’t need to specify what he means. the colours that have returned to his face, loosened shoulders and soft face speak volumes.

she’s noticed his desolate demeanor before when he came—how gaunt he was, with gaze near hollow and body language overall fatigued and strained—but she chose not to say. self care however, is one of the best home therapies she knows.

“you can rest as long as you want here,” she assures and sunghoon’s small smile stretches ever so slightly, shifting his mask and he brings his hand down to the side of her face to gently stroke her cheek.

“thank you,” he mumbles again, quieter now, almost like a mutter, and she nods before resuming her work and him resuming to watch.

he doesn’t know what exactly it is about her that allows him to be so vulnerable. whatever it is, it’s like she’s his lighthouse, saving him from going astray. a warm hearth during winter or a tongue freezing popsicle during the sweltering summer.

she’s his little respite. the first one he runs to, the first name on the tip of his tongue whenever he's losing touch with himself.

and it’s proven by how easily he finds himself falling asleep with his hand tightly holding hers and groaning softly whenever she tries to pull away. she scoffs, amused, with an endeared smile with a small whisper of “good night.”

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spiicii · 8 days ago

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the usos / raw tag team champions

x fem!reader word count → 1.9k summary → this is literally just pwp. the usos have a breeding kink (change my mind!) notes → thank you @wishyouloveme for the idea! and thank you @minteagalaxea and @acute-crashout-jeyuso for beta reading! links → masterlist / taglist tags → breeding kink, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, threesome, possessive behavior, overstimulation, degradation, crying, the twins want you pregnant so bad

“You playin’ it risky, girl.” Jimmy chuckled in your ear, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars. “You know we ain’t gonna be changin’ it up.”

You knew they wouldn’t. In the year you’ve been dating the twins, they never pulled out. Never wore a condom. It was why you’d been so conscientious about taking your birth control pills in the first place. But when you’d forgotten your pills last week, you knew that you would still end up here: on your back, legs spread with both Uso twins between them, pumping you full of their seed again and again.

“I think we’ll be okay.” You whispered, forcing your brain to focus even as Jimmy’s dick tried to turn your thoughts into radio static. “I just had my period. It isn’t time yet.”

“Hm.” Jimmy hummed noncommittally, his thrusts never slowing even as you began to writhe beneath him. “You better hope so. Otherwise you gon end up pregnant. Is that whatchu want?”

You shook your head, trying to focus on his words even as his pleasure shot up your spine with every thrust. Jey chuckled beside you, his fingers tangling in your hair to tug your head back. You let out a moan at the feeling, your eyes opening to meet Jey’s piercing gaze.

“I dunno, uce. Maybe she planned this whole thing. Tryin’ to baby trap us and shit.”

Jey’s smile was mischievous, his fingers tugging again on your hair just to hear you moan again. “Knew she was a slut, but I didn’t think she’d stoop that low.”

You tried to shake your head but Jey’s grip on your hair made it impossible. “Please.” You gasped, your eyelids fluttering. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimmy huffed, his rough hands now grasping at your thighs to pull you closer. “You knew whatchu was doin’. Is this what you wanted, slut? For us to pump you full and knock you up? For us to make you a mama?”

Jimmy shifted his hips and his next thrust hit your g-spot with devastating accuracy, causing you to let out a cry at the feeling. Arousal and delicious heat were beginning to lick across your limbs like wildfire.

“I guess that’s why she did it.” Jey chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple even as Jimmy’s thrusts caused you to roll your eyes into the back of your head. “But maybe she’s on to somethin’, uce. I think she’d look real pretty knocked up.”

Their words were getting to you. The image of being pregnant with their child, not even sure which one of them was the father, was causing lightning bolts of arousal to shoot through your body. Your pussy spasmed helplessly around Jimmy’s length and he laughed, his grip on your quivering thighs tightening.

“I think she likes it too, uce. Startin’ to think you right. Trappin’ us so we can’t ever leave her alone. That’s what you really wanted, wasn’t it, girl? Don’t wanna let us go, do you?”

You were having trouble hearing him, the pleasure in your core beginning to overtake your other senses. And when Jimmy finally spilled inside of you, you were quick to follow, your orgasm leaving you shaking and breathless.

Jimmy didn’t give you long to recover, quickly pulling out so that him and his brother could trade places. Jey didn’t waste any time, immediately burying himself inside of you before any of his brother’s come leaked out of your hole. You didn’t miss the way his hand pressed possessively against your stomach, right above where your womb sat.

“Wouldn’t mind knocking you up, sweetheart.” Jey murmured, his brow furrowed in concentration as he began thrusting into you. “Think you’d make the prettiest mama. Whatchu think?”

You didn’t have any words for him, not while his cock was filling you so perfectly. The pleasure from your last orgasm was still simmering low in your core, the tension beginning to build again. It felt impossibly wet between your legs, your juices and some of his brother’s come beginning to leak out and drip onto the mattress.

“That whatchu want, sweetheart?” Jimmy cooed in your ear, his hands on your face as he began to pepper your cheeks with kisses. “To carry our babies? Make sure the world knows who you belong to?”

You let out a high-pitched keen when Jey hit your g-spot again, overstimulation beginning to prick at your muscles as he began picking up the pace. He began pounding you into a new fervor, seemingly spurred on by his brother’s words.

“And what happens when you end up with twins?” Jey asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual. “You think you can handle allat? You can barely handle the twins you got now.”

Jey wasn’t normally one to finish quickly, but you could tell it was all getting to him. The thought of your belly round, your breasts filled with milk, carrying another Samoan into the world…it was all sending him spiraling towards orgasm much quicker than usual. You knew they loved the idea of getting you pregnant, but you hadn’t expected them to act like this the second it became a real possibility.

Jimmy was still pressing kisses to your face, his large hand palming at one of your breasts. “You ain’t gotta do all this to get us to stick around, baby.” He teased. “You know we ain’t ever leaving you. You know we ain’t lettin’ our best girl go.”

Jey finished inside you with a grunt, still keeping that possessive hand over your womb as he buried himself as deep as possible, ensuring you took every drop. He didn’t seem interested in pulling out, his eyes dark as he stared at you trembling beneath him.

“Please, please, Jey…” Your voice was wrecked. “I can’t…I need…”

“Shhh,” Jimmy was quick to shush you, kissing your sweaty forehead with a new tenderness. “I know, sweetheart. Too drunk on cock to think, ain’t you? Don’t worry, you know we gotchu.”

Jimmy was quick to replace his brother, once again lining up at your entrance before thrusting inside again. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, the arousal and overstimulation causing your body to feel hot and feverish. Still, you couldn’t help the next word that came out of your mouth.

“Daddy.” It came out as nothing more than a whisper, but the twins heard it all the same, both of them chuckling.

“That’s right, mamas.” Jey cooed in your ear, grabbing your jaw to meet your eyes. “Gonna knock you up and be your daddies. Just like you wanted, huh?”

You couldn’t help but nod, the arousal building inside you once again. “Want it so bad.” You admitted, opening your legs even wider to grant Jimmy better access. “Please, I need it.”

Jimmy’s grin was wicked. “Oh, baby. You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for.”

*****

You knew that the twins had stamina, but you had no idea they could go for this long. You’d lost count of how many times they’d come inside you, continuing to breed you late into the night. Your cunt was sore, your body exhausted from how many times they’d made you come. You felt full now, your womb flooded with the many loads they’d given you. You weren’t even sure how they could keep going. They seemed determined to fill you to the brim, triggered by the primal urge to come inside you and get you pregnant.

The room smelled like sex, the sheets beneath you completely soaked. You might have felt disgusted about it if you could even think. The world around you was hazy, even as you stared up at whichever twin was between your legs now. You were pretty sure it was Jimmy, but your thoughts were so scrambled you couldn’t be sure.

“So sweet. You take it so good, baby.”

The voice in your ear was Jimmy’s, so the cock inside you must belong to Jey. Probably. But did it really matter?

You felt warm and euphoric, the pleasure causing your body to thrum like a live wire. You couldn’t get enough of them.

“Such a good girl.” Jey cooed, his thrusts somehow still steady despite the multiple loads he’d given you. “Knew you’d take it like a champ. Just made to be bred like this, huh?”

It shouldn’t have been possible for him to come inside you again, but he did, leaning over you to press a sweet kiss to your cheek before pulling out again.

“Just one more.” Jimmy whispered in your ear, already leaning up to take his brother’s place again. You knew it was a lie, but you didn’t mind, allowing him to slip inside your wetness with ease. You’d let them go all night if they wanted.

“Daddy, please.” you whined, yet another orgasm building inside you. They were almost painful now, their perfect cocks wringing as much pleasure from you as possible. “I can’t…I don’t-”

“It’s okay, mamas.” Jey crooned in your ear, reaching up to wipe some of the sweaty hair from your forehead. “Just let go. We gotchu. It’s alright.”

The tension snapped and you came again, somehow gushing around Jimmy’s cock as he continued to pound into you.

“Shit, you really want a baby, huh?” Jimmy panted, his thrusts so hard you were certain your cervix would bruise. “Lemme give it to you, mama. Gonna fill you again. Gonna knock you up so everyone’ll know you’re ours.”

It went on like this for hours. By the time they finally finished, it was almost sunrise. You knew you wouldn’t be walking for days after this, your legs completely numb from how many positions they’d put you in. You tried to shift the best you could to relieve some of the pressure on your lower back, but a hand on your inner thigh immediately stilled you.

“Can’t waste a drop, sweetheart.” Jimmy murmured, using his fingers to stuff the come that was leaking out of your hole back in. “How else you gonna get what you want?” The feeling of his fingers prodding at your sore pussy caused shockwaves of overstimulation to wrack your body, a low moan tearing from your throat.

“Hush, baby. It’s alright.” Jey’s arms were wrapped around you, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he held you close. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Were you crying? You couldn’t be sure, not when your thoughts were this muddled, your body feverish and oversensitive.

“Daddy.” It seemed to be the only word you could think of, your brain struggling to formulate a coherent thought. The twins didn’t seem to mind, both of them cooing sweet words to you as they leaned over to kiss you.

“Such a sweet girl.” One of them said, their lips soft against yours. “We’re pretty lucky our baby mama’s the prettiest of the bunch. Ain’t we, uce?”

“Mm hm.” The other hummed in agreement. “Gonna take care of you, mamas. We ain’t going anywhere.”

You knew they wouldn’t. You could already see it now: a little boy, his head full of dark curls and his skin a familiar bronze. He’d have Jey’s eyes and Jimmy’s smile. You couldn’t help but feel a warm glow inside you at the thought, letting a small sound of happiness as the twins placed their possessive hands above your womb. They were looking at you hopefully, no doubt thinking the same thing as you.

Maybe forgetting your birth control pills wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

_____

besties: @acute-crashout-jeyuso @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @luvrsluxe @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage @minteagalaxea @annyanse @nbanenefrmdao @wishyouloveme @glittergirl7 @bloodline-fanacc @key05marie @mzv11 @neytiri-20 @solarrexplosion @ayeeeitsmiracle @buttercup0024 @punksyeet @pr0wlerpunk @lilucey @cassrox @cosmiccandydreamer @sarlaccussy @fearlesschimera

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snowave · 8 months ago

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Just another brainrot of mine regarding Zayne, but then again, what's new?

Zayne who...

...is the type to play with your hair idly.

...enjoys quality time with you, no matter how busy he is with his shifts (or how tired he is).

"Dr. Greyson said you came to visit but you almost immediately left when you saw me napping. I told you, you should wake me up, my time with you is considered as resting."

...is the type who makes his presence known despite of being away from each other from time to time.

...always tries to understand you and your quirks, and grows to love them as they makes you, you.

...who subtly leaves his things in your place to have the perfect excuse to come and stay over whenever he feels like it.

"I can't find my tie, I think I left it on your couch. Can I pick it up and maybe see you as well?"

...is the type to keep track of your schedule, so that he can match his time with yours.

...is the type to give you space, and give you silent encouragement when you feel down, because sometimes, we all just need a presence to hold onto; something to keep us grounded instead of words that we usually hear.

"I'm here, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, cry your heart out."

...thinks of you before himself. He always talks in a way that will cater you, your interests, your needs, your wants, etc.

"Hm? What am I doing here? Well, my day is free so it's all yours. What do you want to do?"

...scolds you for not having self-preservation. The man just wants you to see healthy and well all the time.

...probably does not makes you lift a finger whenever you're with him. Zayne isn't a vocal person, but his affection can be seen at the way he delivers through acts of services.

...lets you make fun of him, and you'll get away with it. It amuses him to no end how the gears in your brain work, and how you always manage to think of things that you tease him about.

...talks to you in the most gentle way. Despite his image, Zayne always talks to you softly, and probably never raises his voice even though he's upset or mad.

...gives you space when you get into fights or arguments with each other. It gives you both the mental capacity you need to talk everything out in a proper way, without the need to throw useless and hurtful words to each other.

"I'm sorry. Are you in the right headspace to talk about it now? Or do you need some more time? I can wait."

...probably keeps a photo of you, or photos of both of you in his office and home, framed and delicately placed somewhere he could see immediately.

...becomes clingy in the morning. He relishes in the feeling of you wrapped in his arms, the feeling of your body pressed against his, and the calming beating of your heart. He loves it when you snuggle closer to him, like a cat seeking for warmth.

"It's my day off today, I can stay more in bed with you. Just let me be, hm? Let me hold you much longer."

...the type to look at you with eyes filled with so much longing, yearning, and love, that sometimes you feel like you'll be lost when you stare at him.

And finally, Zayne who loves you more than you think. Lore-wise, he really does. But in general setting, if he can, he'll do everything just to make sure that you're always happy, that you always feel loved, cared for, and needed.

Feel free to add more, I really, really just like talking about Zayne. I guess, it would be nice to have someone to yap with about him.

#love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnd zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #dr zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne fluff

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plutoswritingplanet · 1 year ago

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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daisynik7 · 2 years ago

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test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one. Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?”

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him.

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it.

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze.

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did.

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse.

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now.

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago.

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s.

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you.

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed.

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on.

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his.

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead?

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time.

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you.

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought.

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years.

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever.

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on.

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted?

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out.

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan.

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan.

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself.

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?”

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.”

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors.

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is

Fuck the plan.

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed.

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak.

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you.

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.”

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you.

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip.

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him.

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine.

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more.

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face.

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking.

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance.

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead.

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression.

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose.

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #Eren Yeager x reader #Eren Yeager x you #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan eren #attack on titan x reader

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piningforstan · 7 months ago

Text

Leave Them

Summary: You’re really impressed with Stan after fighting the zombies. And his brass knuckles.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, this is SMUT, smut without plot, fingering, kind of praise kink, inappropriate use of brass knuckles

A/N: forgive me Father (Alex Hirsch) for I have sinned (wrote smut about Stan Pines)

“You-You saved us.”

The details of Stan’s face sharpened in clarity as he approached, looking wary and handsome as ever. Even in the darkness, you could see his gaze drift over you, examining for any injury. You couldn’t imagined how you looked — you had just been attacked by a horde of townspeople-turned-zombies — but whatever he saw must have sated him. His large hand ghosted your cheek.

“You alright, kid?”

Without permission, you leaned into his touch. You nodded. Ever the genius, you repeated, “You saved us.”

Stan returned a strained smile. “Someone had to. Might as well’ve been me.”

You racked your brain for something more intelligent to say, perhaps a thank you. The remains of fear stilled gripped you, though, along with the image of Stan fighting the undead. You had never seen him in action before. Of course, you’d heard his stories about his past, about boxing, but like everything that Stanford Pines said, you had to take it with a grain of salt.

He wasn’t lying. At least about this.

Watching him had ignited something primal and core-clenching inside you, an ember of desire only fanned more by his close proximity. You decided that words would not be sufficient enough to express your gratitude, instead rocking up on your toes and grabbing Stan by the lapels.

You half expected shock or resistance when you pressed your mouth to his. But, to your relief, there was none of that. Almost as if you had done it a million times before, Stan immediately slipped one hand behind your head and one around your waist. His mouth was equally if not more fervent than your own, consuming you with an abandon that confirmed his feelings for you.

All of the words you wished you could say you poured into that kiss. A silent conversation between both of you, the ebb and flow of a tide, crashing into you with unfettered intensity. It wasn’t long before you needed more. Breath fanning across your face, Stan steered you backwards, cushioning the blow as he cornered you against the wall. A groan escaped you that he seemed determined to capture, replacing his mouth on yours once more — then your neck, your collar, amassing sound after sound from you.

It didn’t take long before you were helping him out of his jacket, tugging at the buttons of his undershirt. Stan kept his hands at your waist, securing you against the wall, against him, moving only to let his jacket slip down his shoulders. They caught on his wrists, the brass knuckles he wore.

Stan swore. “Fuckin’ hell —”

“Leave them,” you said, touching his arm.

Stan paused to peer at you strangely. A blush warmed your face, prompting his to split into a crooked grin. “Leave ’em, eh?”

He promptly maneuvered the jacket off with impressive dexterity, which only made you that much more eager for his touch. Your whole body seemed to sigh as he flicked open your jeans, fingers warm and calloused and wonderful. He shoved your pants down to your thighs then placed his free hand between your legs.

“Oh, doll, you’re killin’ me,” he growled, finger curving upwards almost by reflex at your slickness. Your hips ground into his hand. “Say it again.”

“What?” You breathed, arcing into his palm. He teased your entrance, keeping you from what you really wanted.

“What you said. Before,” he clarified, voice rasping, deeper than usual.

You reached through the haze of desire clouding your brain, panting out, “You saved us. Saved me.”

“That’s right, couldn’t let nothin’ happen to you,” Stan muttered into your neck. One finger buried itself inside you and you cry out in surprise, in pleasure. “You’re mine. My girl.”

Another finger, then a third, stretching you out. Even just the slightest of ministrations has you gasping. He curled his fingers, coaxed out your orgasm, wrist snapping. White light blurred the edges of your vision. Right when you think that you might release, he removed his fingers. You barely have time to protest when he replaced them with something else.

Something cool and distinctly metal.

“Stan.” You grabbed hold of the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Since you like ’em so much,” he grunted in way of reply. He pressed the ridges of the brass knuckles against you, brushed your clit, along the sensitive skin of your thighs.

Already you can feel yourself unraveling, bucking up into the combined feel of his skin and the metal of the brass knuckles. Stan watched you almost obsessively, as if to commit every second of this to memory — his body on yours, your undoubtedly swollen lips, the way you pant out his name with each touch.

Stan is completely in control, releasing and providing more pressure depending on your reaction. You hissed. “Stop—teasing.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

The metal pressed to your clit. You inhaled. His opposite hand reached up to palm your breast, thumb brushing over your raised nipple. It’s almost too much, Stan like this, confident and solid and breathless. Your body bowed to him, pliant like a plant bending towards the sun, desperate for the faintest touch.

“That’s right,” Stan rasped, “Come for me. Let me hear ya.”

Your head fell back. The combination of his heady smell and the cool metal, his knee pushing your legs apart to better access you, pushes you to the edge. He’s there to catch you as you take the plunge, free falling, ecstasy sweeping over you. There’s nothing to anchor you except him — Stan — holding you upright as you shuddered through your climax.

“Never knew they could be used for more than kicking ass,” Stan said with a laugh.

You swatted at him. Hopefully in the dark he couldn’t see you blush. “Shut up.”

Hands curling in his lapels again, you pulled him to you, more than eager to return the favor, when there’s a loud thump from upstairs. The sound made both of you freeze.

“Grunkle Stan? Are they gone?”

It’s Mabel. Shit. You both forgot that the kids had retreated upstairs to hide.

Stan groaned, pinching his nose. There’s a trace of promise in his eyes when he glanced at you, making sure that you’re both buttoned and tidied and separated before the kids shuffled downstairs, eyes widened with fear.

“They’re, uh, all gone. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” Stan said. Dipper and Mabel ran across the room to hug him and he bent to one knee to accept it.

Your heart fluttered with happiness. You’re alive, and more important the kids are alive. And Stan returned your feelings.

Never one to linger too long in sentiment, Stan started ordering the twins to start clean-up. You’re watching the entire thing unfold when he caught your eye and darted his tongue over the brass knuckles before removing them and tucking them into his suit pocket.

Oh, you’re definitely returning the favor.

#fanfic #gravity falls #stanley pines #writers on tumblr #writing #smut #smut fic #plot? what’s plot

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syluriar · 2 months ago

Text

vunerable - sylus x mc!reader

sypnosis: sylus has never been one to give up control, so you try and help him.

a/n: inspired by @yes-no-maybe-soo i legit just read your sylus hc's today and my brain scrambles to write this because althoug i love sylus bing a sub, you made some excellent points of it being hard for him to give up control because of what he went through in his past life (still haven't recovered, anyone else?).

contains: sylus being scared to give up control and not liking these feelings, mc (you) being so gentle with him. there's a slight mention of attmepted murder from sylus' enemies in the past. sylus crying (of that ever happens in game i swear to god-). angst & comfort.

word count: 1381

you straddle him with your hands resting at his hips, his chest is bare that allows you to see his breathing clearer. he's watching you with those ruby eyes you love so much, but you can see a bit of fear in them, unsurprising at the vulnerable position he's in.

it was your idea to do this, to give him the attention he gives you - the warmth, safety and consent. he knows you would never hurt him, but the image of losing all his control reminds him of his past life, as the dragon who has been beaten and chained for thousands of years. when the past you finally freed him he was determined to take control of his life, to never go back to the scared dragon.

he adores you, and you know that, he would do anything for you...but to give up all control, even if it is just you who takes it away...fear creeps back into him.

you lift a hand and reach up to caress his cheek which he immediately nuzzles into to, and he kisses the palm before releasing a sigh,

"it's only me," your voice is so soft, just louder than a whisper, like it was coaxing an animal out of it's shelter. you lean up and cup his face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "i'm the only one that's here."

you take one on your hands to gently run through his hair, an action that has him close his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and it makes your heart swell. "we can stop anytime you like, ok?"

a hum comes from his lips as he opens his eyes, and you see that small amount of fear has been replaced by something else.

he hates that you have to him like this, like he's weak, like he's a scared child who needs comforting - he doesn't like that he's showing this side to you, because how can you depend on him if he doesn't stay strong in front of you?

you kiss his forehead and you can feel some of the tension leave his body. a part of you wants to do this fats, you show sylus that yes of course, he can be like this with you, there's no shame and it and you'll always ben there for him , but you need to take it slow. you will show him all these things by listening to him, both words and body. you don't care how long it will take, because it's what he deserves.

you start to leave kisses all over his face, his cheeks, nose, even his chin that makes a small amused huff leave his lips. you're still gentle when you finally place your lips over his own, his hands coming to hold your waist. at any other moment it would be intense, fingers digging into clothing as your tongues fight each other.

but right now it's soft, like a perfect fluffy cushion you relax in. sylus groans at your mouth and you feel good knowing he does too. you see it in his eyes when you pull away, and the slight pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

you giggle. "do you know how cute you look when you blush?"

he sucks in a breath, clearly surprised by your compliment. "cute?" he looks almost amused. "that not a word people associate with me."

"well they don't know you like i do." you give his lips a quick peck to his lips before your hands descend lower to his shoulders, a lot looser than before. "i kinda like it that way."

"and you call me possessive." he chuckles. the air around you two has become easier, the tension slowly fading away.

for some reason your eyes go to his neck, such a strong thing that often aches because of how much he has to look down at you. you move your hands towards his neck, his sharp intake making you freeze.

"oh..." how could you forget a lot of his enemies go for his neck? a common way to end someones life. you felt stupid. "sorry...i was going to massage it. it aches because of how much you have look down on me, doesn't it?"

he doesn't answer you, his eyes cast aside as he continues to breath heavily. your heart aches at the sight and you retract your hands, placing one back on his cheek. "hey, remember, your still in control. stay stop and i will."

his breath shudders and his shoulders tense up once more, his hands now gripping your waist. he sucks through gritted teeth and turns his head away, as if he was ashamed of himself.

your heart sings with distress at the sight and you want to feel anger of the people that have made sylus this way, but what good will that do here?

sylus…” you lean your head to meet him and see something shine from his eyes, falling down his cheek.

a tear.

“oh…” you couldn’t hold back at your reach to brush it away, but when your skin makes contact he flinches, and it makes you want to cry yourself. “it’s me, my love. only me. i’m here.” you brush the tear away, fingers gently thumbing in his cheek to help calm him.

a strangled noise comes from his throat. “i don’t…i didn’t want you to see me like this…” his voice is in a tone you’ve never heard before, one of pain and distress.

“like what?” you reply softly.

he doesn’t answer straight away and you wait patiently, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders like he had done to yours in times like this.

“like i am weak, scared…vulnerable.”

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, each piercing you harshly through the heart. “sylus…there’s nothing with you feeling any of those things.”

“i need to be strong for you.”

“do the strong always require to be strong?”

repeating his own words to him hit him like bricks, his eyes widening and lips parted in shock. ever so gently you cradle his face, his eyes still looking away from you. “wasn’t it you who said that?”

“...it’s not the same.”

“how isn’t it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply, so you keep talking. “i don’t need you to be strong for me sylus. don’t you think there’s a strongness in being those things? weak, scared and vulnerable?...to me there is.”

your words make him finally look at you, his eyes still holding surprise. “...there is?”

you nod. “even plants and animals have those types of feelings, so you having them is normal. showing them to me is…letting yourself be loved by me even more than you do now. it shows that you trust me to see you this way, and trust me that i won’t turn you away.”

you lean forward and turn his face to you before grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your chest, your heart beating loudly underneath. “trust me that i will always be patient with you, that i will never rush you and listen to what you say,”

you grab his other hand and bring it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles and palm before placing it over your cheek. “and trust me that i will always love you, no matter what.”

he hears your love, your utter devotion to him that makes his heart sing. he stares at you with such loving eyes one might say they never knew it existed, but it’s right here, right in this room and in each other's arms.

he kisses you with such intensity, with such love that it almost makes you fall. with your hands on his shoulders you meet his passion, his devotion, his affection and so much more. he cradles your face as your lips part, heavy breaths falling from both.

“i love you too, my beloved, so so much.”

he holds you tightly with his head buried in your neck, your arms around his neck and brushing through his hair.

you don’t care how many times this needs to happen, to assure him of your love and devotion, of your patient and his consent.

because you will never, ever hurt him - he deserves better.

#mine #my writing #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #have sylus crying *YEET*#there is comfort so don't worry #idk how to feel now...

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stargirllanaa · 1 year ago

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Pretty when you cry

Warnings: NON-CON SMUT, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, domestic violence, drug-use, manipulation, lying

Summary: Heavily Based on ‘Pretty when your cry’ by Lana Del Rey, like really heavily, Your relationship with Rafe Cameron is falling apart before you’re eyes.

A/n: First smut 🫣 anyway, request are open so hit my inbox with your darkest ideas! I would definitely recommend listen to Pretty when you cry by Lana Del Rey while reading!! Enjoy <3

Wc: 2k

18+ ONLY MINOR DNI!!

Your friend group had planned a fun night all together; you were all going to stay at the beach till dark and watch the stars. You had been looking forward to it; things had been rocky with Rafe, and you just wanted to get out and enjoy a night with your friends and boyfriend.

As you applied your blush, you were completely lost in thought; images of a few nights ago and your encounter with your boyfriend flashed through your brain.

You tried to focus on your makeup routine, but the bruises that were revealed on your wrist when your sweatshirt sleeve fell were a constant reminder.

“Are you serious, Rafe?” You questioned your boyfriend when you caught him in the bathroom doing a line.

“You said you were done... You said you were quitting.” disappointment filled your voice.

He looked up at you with dilated pupils, trying to wipe away the white powdery residue from under his nose.

“I'm sorry baby… I-” he thought to himself for a minute.

You signed in response.

“I should have known…” you softly said under your breath,

“No… listen…I got into a fight with my dad earlier...This is the last time...” The blonde promised you in a shaky tone.

Your eyes shot to the leftover coke on your bathroom counter; there were about two lines left, you didn't want that shit in your house, and more importantly, you didn't want him doing that shit in your house. So you moved your hand over, ready to wipe it straight onto the floor.

But Rafe saw it coming; he had been analyzing your eyes the whole time. He caught your wrist before it came close to the counter; his grip was tight and rough.

“Come on, baby, don't make this complicated.” your boyfriend threatened as his grip got tighter and tighter.

“Rafe, you're hurting me,” you said as your eyes brimmed with hot tears.

“You’re hurting me, y/n!” he pulled you closer to him; the scent of his cologne was so strong it made you nauseous. “You know I'm going through stuff and… mess up sometimes! And I-”

“You promised me, Rafe!” you cut him off. “You promised you would stop.” tears spilled over, and you smiled, lacking happiness. “But you don't care about that, do you?”

His eyes narrowed at your words, and his grip on your wrist became tighter, causing you to let out a sob.

“You clearly don't give a shit about spending time with me because you're high all the time.” you voiced between sobs. “You don't even give a shit about me…you care about one thing,” you said, voice broken as you used your free hand to point at the two remaining lines on the countertop.

Rafe said nothing, but you could tell you were spot on by how he looked around as his breathing sped up.

He dropped your wrist before leaving the bathroom and the lines he had just fought you over; he made sure to slam the door and stomp down the stairs.

You shivered as you thought about how tight he was holding on to you, but he was high, and people do crazy things under the influence. But the problem was Rafe had been under the influence a lot recently.

And every time he hurt you, it would always go the same way; you guys would argue, usually about his drug problem. He would hurt you, usually to make you shut up. Sometimes were worse than others, but it always ended in you sobbing and him profusely apologizing. He blamed it on the drugs…his dad and you would forgive him. Or he would just leave you there and text you ‘sorry’ later.

You missed the days when the two of you first started dating; everything seemed so simple and sweet… So normal.

You and your boyfriend were going ice skating together; you were excited but nervous. It was your first time, and you didn't want to fall and embarrass yourself.

As you entered the rink, you immediately held onto the railing as you tried to keep your feet in place. They were slipping and sliding everywhere, and the railing was your only hope not to fall and bust your ass.

“Baby,” Rafe said with a slight laugh as he stuck his hand out. “I got you; hold my hand.”

You took his hand, one hand on the railing, one in his. He showed you how to push yourself forward and keep balance, but you were still struggling.

“How do you do that,” you said with a chuckle as if he was a professional ice skater.

“Youre cute,” the blonde said with a smile; the truth was you were the girl he had always dreamed of; you were so naive.

You always hoped he would stop using and times could return to how they were, but part of you knew things would never be how they were; they hadn't been in a long time.

Looking back at the mirror, you realized you had been applying blush to one cheek for about 2 minutes. You needed to finish getting ready. Things would be better tonight, at least you hoped they would be.

When you made it to the beach, Rafe wasn't there yet; that was fine, though he was probably late, traffic or something. You tried your best to focus on your friends, the music, and the alcohol, but as the night went on and the stars came out, Rafe's lack of presence was very noticeable. Your friends and even his friends had asked you where he was, and you just responded with a quiet ‘he’ll be here soon.’ was that true? You didn't know. He wasn't answering texts or calls; you even dm’ed him on Instagram, hoping for a response.

But he didn't show up, he didn't come through… he never did.

And as you looked up at the stars surrounded by friends, all you could think about was when Rafe told you that ‘all the pretty stars had shined for you.’

———-

One of your friends dropped you back home after your night out. Rafe was supposed to take you home with him, but it was apparent why that didn't happen.

As soon as you started taking off your jewelry, your phone started ringing; you looked over at it to see who was calling and quickly picked it up.

“Rafe, are fucking kiddi-” you started.

“Open the door. I'm outside,” he stated before hanging up.

You rolled your eyes at the sound of him ending the call; you were so fucking angry. The two of you were supposed to have fun tonight, not fight. He stood you up. He did this shit all the time, using stupid excuses like, ‘I lost track of time,’ ‘my dad and I got into a fight again,’ and ‘I fell asleep.’ But those excuses could only work so many times.

As you stomped down your stairs to the front door, you took a deep breath; you didn't want things to go left more than they already had, but that didn't stop you from opening the door when your gut told you not to.

Rafe pushed past you, letting himself into your house.

“Baby, I'm sorry I lost track of time.” classic Rafe.

You looked down at your phone, taking in the time, then back at him.

“For 4 hours, Rafe?” You scoffed at his words; how many times would he use that excuse?

“The ‘fight with your dad’ would have worked better this time.” you sarcastically stated as you rolled your eyes.

“Don't be like that.” the blonde spoke as he walked closer to you.

“No, don't tell me how to act! You always do this to me.” your eyes brimmed with tears as you thought about how broken your relationship was.

Rafe brought his hand up to your face, initially causing you to flinch, but he brought it closer to the top of your head and began stroking your hair.

“I'm sorry… stuff's been hard for me with my da-.” he started.

“I can't do this.” you tearfully confessed, trying to pull away from him.

His hand paused in your hair, but he still kept you close.

“What do you mean ‘you can't do this?’” your boyfriend questioned, voice mixed with confusion and anger.

“Rafe, let go of me.” you calmly stated, trying to get away before things got ugly.

The hand stroking your hair was now grabbing a handful of it; he pulled you back slightly, but only enough to make eye contact.

“I need you, y/n,” Rafe said as his eyes narrowed.

“Don't say that-” you stated under your breath, looking down at the floor.

“Don't say I need you?” the blonde asked you as he pulled your hair slightly, forcing you to look back at him.

“You know you're just gonna leave again,” you shouted through tears.

Rafe looked away from you, thinking of what he should do; he needed you; you couldn't leave; you couldn't just decide that you ‘couldn't do this.’. He had to show you how much he needed you.

You gasped as Rafe’s grip on your hair tightened as he started dragging you. The pain coming from your head was so brutal it left you screaming for him to stop. Before you knew it, he pulled you up by your hair and pushed you back onto the couch. You were terrified; when you looked into his eyes, they were darker, just like they were the night he grabbed your wrist, and every time he had ever hurt you before, but you were confused; he usually just slapped and pushed you around. This was a different level; he had never taken it this far.

“Rafe!” was all you screamed out before he cut you off.

“You don't think I need you?” he smirked before pushing your hair back so he could see your whole face. “I need you so bad you don't even understand.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering how hurting you could possibly show that he needed you, but when you saw him start to undo his pants, everything became a lot clearer.

“Rafe..” you trailed off, hoping he wasn't about to do what you thought he was.

“Shhh baby... You’re okay.” the blonde says as he reaches under your skirt.

“No, I can't do this,” you said as you tried to sit up, but your boyfriend immediately pushed you back down.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” He hissed, clearly annoyed by your words; he had already made up his mind; there was no going back now.

And when you felt him inside of you, you couldn't stop the sobs that escaped from the back of your throat, and when you glanced back at him to see him staring directly into your eyes while taking advantage of you, it made your stomach turn.

“Fuck” Rafe said with a moan, “you're so pretty when you cry.”

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks

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gojossugarcandy · 2 months ago

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To say your life has changed would be a huge understatement. In under the span of one week, you had found yourself a boyfriend and were already living together.

Ciaran was not only your boyfriend, but also a vampire. A very jealous, possessive, insecure and obsessed vampire.

Society always warns the younger generation to be wary of bad people. Nonchalance was the key to a healthy relationship and what not. Of course, being the youngster you are, you ignored all of those and were rather happy to have someone obsess over you.

It gave off a feeling of superiority.

But things quickly changed, a month in your relationship and you were already tired of it. And thus, you let your intrusive mind make a fatal decision for you.

Visiting your ex's birthday party. Without telling Ciaran.

You were sure had you informed him about this he would whine and start crying, these acts always had your savior complex kicking in. And he knew it.

It was the first week of new year, everyone at the party was giddy, excited and super drunk already. That everyone also included you.

Your number of drinks kept on going up and up along with those dirty eye contacts and stare downs with and to your ex.

He licked the cake from his fingers so seductively, it made your drunken brain want to ruin him right then and there.

And the consequences, well, you could blame it on your drunken mind. Or excuse it with 'I confused his face for my boyfriend' or so.

But halfway in those bedroom kisses, the window had flung open, with a cold breeze forcing its way inside.

And a man soon appeared there, the vibes he gave off were eerie.

Looking into his red irises, suddenly, a flashback occurred to you.

"Hey, you promise you won't leave me?" asked a certain red-eyed creature.

"No, never!" replied, a voice full of young love.

"Promise you won't lay eyes on any other men?"

"No, i would never, not when i have such a cute boyfriend"

"And what if you do?" Asked the boy, insecurely.

"Then, you can eat me up" said, his beloved, before jumping on him with a poor imitation of a monster's roar.

Both were laughing, the room was dark, with curtains blocking the sun's rays but the world still seemed pink and rosy to those two amateurs.

Fear, terror, horror took over you as you start backing away into a corner.

Your ex tried to punch the intruder only to be met with a swipe of his sharp nails.

Your ex started struggling on the floor, blood sputtered out of his wounds like a fountain.

And soon, his body stopped moving.

Your ex was now dead.

The heart-broken vampire, started walking slowly, his sobs a bit muffled out due to the party noises from the floor below.

"You killed him" you whispered, as your knees start buckling.

Your attention went to his nearing face, it had tears flowing out of his beautiful eyes.

And you felt the breath in your lungs knocked out of you as you were suddenly pinned to the wall, sharp nails digging into your shoulder.

"Why? Was I not enough?" a soft voice asked the inevitable question.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-I don't know what got over me" You start shaking as fear completely takes over your mind, tears forming in your eyes, body shivering - due to cold or fear or both, who knows?

"It's fine, you said i could eat you, if you ever betrayed me" he said, as he gave you a big smile, a creepy one.

"Nonononono-" before you could even stop him, a pair of sharp canines sank into your flesh.

It was followed by a mouth latching itself to that spot and blood being sucked

and sucked

and sucked out of it.

A while later, there lay in the room of birthday boy, the body of birthday boy and a lovely young lady who had decided not to heed the warning, the advice of elders. And an unhumanly creature, crying, staring at his now dead beloved.

"It's Okay

It's Okay

It's Okay! I'm Okay!! Because This Is What You Wanted!!!"

______________________________________________________________

@meo-eiru The image up there belongs to her. I really admire, adore, worship, words are not enough! creators like these as they draw such good drawing with their imaginations! Like damnnnnn! and then there is me. A person who likes drawing but is a huge failure. (I swear, my human faces look like monkeys😂🤣😂🤣) Anyway, seeing the image, I had like a context for it. I don't know if this is good or not. My previous stories are trash because I, like, had no motivation to write but just wanted to. But this one fanart fired my imagination up and I just started writing.

#yandere male #yandere darling #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere male x fem reader #male yandere x reader #yandere male oc #yandere male x you #yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere #yandere vampire x reader #yandere ciaran x reader #yandere ciaran #ciaran x reader

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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months ago

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♡ 𝕒 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jeongin x girlfriend!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/comfort

♡ Summary: Jeongin's the type of boyfriend who never makes you question how much he cares for you. Still, there's one nagging insecurity you haven't been able to move past: Letting him see you naked. Sick of letting your fear get the best of you, you decide that tonight's the night to finally open up to him and it turns out you might've been afraid of nothing all along.

♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: body insecurities, nudity, a lil making out, mentions of sex, jeongin loves to touch your body, praise, and just all around fluffiness otherwise

♡ A/N: This started out as an anon request but I lost the post for that request (brb crying) so now we have a lil I.N comfort fic that will hopefully make my chubby Jeongin biased babes feel good in their skin cause you totally deserve to.

Moments like these Jeongin wishes could last forever. Between touring, appearances, and studio sessions his schedule’s been brutal lately, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the one girl he treasures most in the world—you. But tonight none of that matters. The world beyond the walls of his apartment doesn’t exist. There’s only him cozied up under a blanket on the couch with you cuddled against his body, your head resting on his chest as you lazily play with the strings of his hoodie.

The room’s dark except for the glow of the television. A movie’s playing but neither of you are truly watching it. His eyes are glued to you, committing to memory how beautiful you are from this angle. You seem so comfortable in his arms, so at peace, and the feeling’s infinitely mutual.

Your own gaze is fixed on the screen but every image and sound you take in is passive. What you’re truly focused on is a thought that’s been cycling through your brain all night. Before you left to head over here you told your roommate not to wait up, you’d be spending the night at Jeongin’s place. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease you, she asked if you needed to borrow a sweater or something to sleep in. You instantly regretted admitting to her over drinks that Jeongin has yet to see you naked, even after months of being together.

Whenever you have sex you keep the lights off and throw your clothes back on immediately after. If you shower and he’s around you always make sure to bring your clothes with you into the bathroom. Even Jeongin, who never wears anything to bed, always has something on when you sleep over to make you more comfortable.

It’s nothing he’s ever complained about or tried to make you feel guilty for. More than anything he just seems happy to be with you, accepting your boundaries without hesitation. It’s one of a million reasons you’ve come to love him as much as you do. Still, you know that hiding from him isn’t something you can do forever. It isn’t something that you want to do forever.

“Baby” he says sweetly, petting your cheek, “You ready for bed?”

You take a deep breath, making up your mind that tonight’s the night. Your stomach sinks at the thought of how he might feel when he sees your body but at least you’ll know now before you fall for him any harder.

“Mmhmm” you nod, nuzzling your cheek against his chest one last time before sitting up.

Jeongin hops up and gets to work clearing the snacks from the coffee table. With full hands, he leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. “You can go ahead. I’ll meet you in there in a second, okay?”

You agree and gather the blanket in your arms, trembling as you shuffle down the hall towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk but it feels eternal. You’ve stepped through this threshold a dozen times by now but somehow this feels like your first. Suddenly the oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants that once shielded your insecurities have you sweating like a sinner in church. It’s suffocating.

Tossing the blanket onto the bed, you tug your hoodie off to feel the fresh air kiss your skin. The coolness eases the tension in your body, leaving your hands a bit less shaky as you slip your sweatpants down and kick them aside. You stare down at your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs and your fluffy thighs that are just barely visible in the long t-shirt you’re wearing.

Your chest tightens as you pinch the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric little by little. It slides above your thighs, around the contours of your hips, revealing the panties you chose specifically for tonight. They’re silk, rose pink, with a lace trim and a delicate bow in the back and they’re the prettiest panties Jeongin’s ever seen simply because you’re wearing them.

“Did I, uh, miss something?” Jeongin asks, frozen in the doorway.

Usually when he walks into the room you’re already under the covers waiting for cuddles he’s beyond eager to give you. Being met with this is something new entirely and he can’t help the way his heart races at the sight of it. You turn to find him staring at you wide eyed, shock painting his face.

“Well, uh, I…” you stutter, fidgeting with the trim of your shirt, “I know you don’t really like sleeping with your clothes on and the weather’s really nice tonight so I thought, maybe, it’d be nice if we did that.”

Jeongin closes the distance between you, his shock melting into concern. He brings an arm around your waist, stroking your side as he studies your expression.

“Baby, I already told you I’m cool with our clothes being on. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You rest your hand on his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “It’s okay” you insist, immediately picking up on his skepticism. He doesn’t believe you for a second. You stare into his eyes, finding comfort in them even as they narrow in your direction. “I want you to see me, all of me, I don’t wanna be afraid anymore.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what? Did I…”

You cut him off before he can finish, refusing to let him believe for a second that there’s anything he did wrong. “No, Innie, you’re so good to me. It's just…I’m not the smallest girl. Feeling me is one thing but seeing me it’s…it’s…”

Your breath hitches at the sensation of Jeongin’s hands massaging your body. He smooths the plushness of your figure beneath his palms, stopping to squeeze your love handles, your belly, your thighs.

“Seeing you would be a gift” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours. “I’ve felt your body in the dark and I’m already addicted to how beautiful it is. If you take your clothes off or not, nothing will change. I promise.”

There’s no denying the rush that you get from being touched by him. You feel it every time, the impulse to let him tear your clothes off. The longing to feel his gaze dance over your naked body the way his hands do. Typically you fight it, your fears dulling your urges, but tonight you don’t. Instead you sweep him into a kiss laced with passion, guiding his hands to grip the fabric of your shirt.

“Help me take it off, please” you beg, too cute to deny.

Jeongin nibbles at your bottom lip, “Only if you help me too.”

“Deal” you giggle as he steals your breath away, hungrily pulling you back into the kiss.

Your clothes are shed gently and slowly like the petals of a flower. One after the other, his and then yours. All the while Jeongin’s lips are drawn to yours like magnets. Every break he has to take is a small form of torture. You could kiss him every second of every day and it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to drown in it.

He can only bring himself to stop when he feels skin to skin contact. Your naked body’s pressed to his in the bright lighting of his room. He could see you if he wanted to, glance down and delight in the pleasure of something he’s only experienced in his imagination, but instead he focuses on your gorgeous face, his heart set on making sure this is what you really want.

“Can I look?” he asks, fingertips lightly trailing up and down your spine.

You pause, pacing yourself for a decision you know you can’t turn back from, “It’s okay. You can look.”

Time seems to stand still as Jeongin takes a step back and his gaze falls below your shoulders where your naked body awaits in all its vulnerability. His is the smooth, toned body that you already know it to be. You’ve caught glimpses of it here and there when he’s changed in front of you. And yours is beyond what he’d imagined during those long nights spent blindly exploring your form beneath the sheets.

At first he says nothing, does nothing. He only stares straight ahead, scanning you from head to toe. But just as the nervousness threatens to return he cracks a smile, his face lighting up, stars twinkling in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He exhales the words as naturally as he breathes.

You blush, a giggle escaping your lips, “Oh my gosh, stop it.”

“Stop it? How can I? Look at you.”

Your self doubt wants to tell you that he’s lying—that these words you never imagined you’d hear couldn’t possibly be true—but you can’t deny the way Jeongin’s looking at you or the butterflies swarming your stomach. You try to bring your arms around yourself, a thoughtless attempt at hiding away again, but he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers between yours.

“I mean it” he whispers, thumbs lightly grazing your skin, “Your body’s gorgeous and I feel lucky that you let me lay eyes on it. Thank you.”

Your cheeks heat up and you dip your head down, too flustered by his words to maintain eye contact. Jeongin cups your cheek, tilting your head back up. He’s stubborn as always, refusing to let you escape his affection.

“You think so too, don't you?” he asks, his lips floating back to yours. He almost kisses you, just almost, but lets his lips dance there, teasing you with their warmth.

“Think what? I don’t…” you begin to speak but the feeling of his hands making contact with your belly steals away what was coming next. You let out the softest breath, bordering on a hushed moan. His touch always sets your soul on fire but this time there’s something different about it. Some new aspect of it that has your head all fuzzy and your knees going weak.

“Think that I should feel lucky that I get to see you” he says, massaging the plush of your belly, “And grateful that I get to touch you.”

He glides his palms down to your hips, taking indulgent handfuls of your curves as your body gives into his touch. Your fingertips run up his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex with every breath. His body shivers, your quiet praise doing to him exactly what his does to you.

“You can’t say things like that, Innie.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I might start believing it.”

Jeongin flashes you that dimpled smile, “Good. I want you to.”

His lips collide with yours again and it feels like the whole room’s spinning because it is. He closes his arms around your waist, kissing you lovingly as he twirls you towards the bed. Before you know it your head’s resting on a pillow as your body sinks into the softness of the mattress. You can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the euphoria of Jeongin’s tongue tangled with yours but it’s like you’re floating on a cloud.

Jeongin kisses you like it’s the last time your lips will ever meet. His hands explore your body like they’re terrified to forget even the tiniest detail of what you feel like. The affection he pours into you is overwhelming yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop.

He saw you, everything about you, and the only place he ran to was your arms. You feel special, cherished in every way for exactly who you are. All your worries seem like nothing more than silly little things in the presence of his adoration.

Finally breaking from the kiss, the necessity for air forcing your lips apart, Jeongin curls up beside you, keeping you in his arms as he slips a blanket over your naked bodies. You rest your head on his chest the same way you did on the couch, only now your mind isn’t wandering off somewhere far away. It’s right here with him, basking in the moment.

“Promise not to hide from me anymore” he sighs, planting the sweetest kiss on your forehead.

You relax into his arms, smiling as your heavy lids fall shut, “I promise.”

You thought you’d feel more vulnerable lying beside him with your clothes in a pile on the floor but being like this with him is the safest you’ve ever felt, the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, in your own skin. Hide from him? And miss out on a feeling like this? Never again.

#stray kids x female reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #jeongin fluff #jeongin x you #jeongin x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader

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