#it’s not her celebrity that made her special to me

[darkintrinsic]

Devil's Night | Bad Omens

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

One day I woke up and wanted to be chased to the sound of Milagre.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X Female!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. It's devil's night and you've been invited to play. If you don't get caught by them, you win..

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). Foul language, alcohol consumption, masked men, stalking, reverse harem, why choose, taking turns, explicit sex, fear games, submission.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Devil’s Night.

The first time she heard those words, thought it was just another excuse for parties and excess, but here, in Detroit, it’s different. People speak of this night as if it were a tradition, passed down from generation to generation, almost like a silent pact that no one dares to question.

Yes, it’s Halloween Eve, but it carries a taste of danger that goes beyond costumes and carved pumpkins. It’s not about trick-or-treating; it’s more like… a rite of passage, where each person lets their dark side surface, testing their own limits and those of others. And the entire city, somehow, agrees to turn a blind eye to what happens in the shadows.

In the alleys and empty hallways, you can feel something waiting, hidden between the walls and beneath the fog that stubbornly refuses to lift. The seniors, of course, love it. They create challenges, make absurd promises to the freshmen, as if they’re initiating them into some ancient secret. But it’s not a secret; it’s more like a warning.

I don’t know exactly who started it—maybe some group many years ago, looking for a way to release their frustrations, or perhaps the city already came with this curse built in. But, either way, everyone participates, whether in the role of the observers or those who get lost in the night.

You were about to leave home, dressed up for another Devil’s Night in Detroit. Your friends had invited you over to drink a little before heading to the Lions' party, the fraternity responsible for the highest concentration of players that night. At first, you were ready to turn down the invitation, wanting to go straight to the celebration and get it over with once and for all, but seeing the flyer advertising the Geordin’s pub attraction made you change your mind.

Bad Omens was the main act in an intimate show, and you felt a bit excited to know they were back in town. It had been a while since you last saw them—if you weren’t mistaken, on the last Devil’s Night.

"Don’t tell me you’re not even a little excited to see him again…" Ash nudged your ribs with a playful voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"They’ve grown so much since the last time I saw them, Ash. They definitely have no idea who I am."

"And what if I told you that’s not exactly true?" Ashley’s glittering eyes blinked behind her long lashes as if she had some valuable information. She rested her hands and phone under her chin while watching you finish getting ready in the mirror. "I messaged Steve; we chat sometimes, and when he told me he’d be in town, I didn’t fail to mention your name…"

"I can’t believe you did that!"

"I scored us four VIPs tonight thanks to my shamelessness. No need to thank me, babe!" Ash winked and blew a kiss at her own shoulder, ignoring when you rolled your eyes at her boldness.

You didn’t want to admit it, but a strange sensation was building up in your stomach, making you feel cold with every step you took out the door. According to your friends, you looked good enough to draw a crowd to your feet, and deep down, you hoped they were right.

Geordin’s was, as always, sweltering, packed, and filled with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. You were just in a short black dress and heavy makeup—this date was special, a night for vixens to leave their homes in their smallest outfits, best heels, and bold eyes to be, for one night, what they longed to be all year.

At the bar, you grabbed a drink and walked with your friends to the VIP area near the stage. With each minute closer to the performance, your stomach grew colder, while your friends chatted excitedly beside you, never quieting for a moment. It had been a long time since you last saw him, and you tried your best not to expect him to remember any fragment of the past Devil’s Night.

“Welcome to the show of bad omens, my friends,” said the recorded voice from the speakers, making the crowd go wild.

The lights went out, and your body froze in place as the intro to the first song began. His voice was still unmistakable and unique, pleasing to the ear, even live, weaving together with the guitar and drum solos as if they were one.

When you turned to the stage, Noah was gripping the microphone with his eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to take in the melody, singing along with all your heart as you remembered why this was your favorite band. At the end of the third song, he glanced over the crowd as if looking for something, seeming about to give up, until his eyes finally landed on you.

A jolt of electricity surged from your legs, coursing through your entire body. Noah gave a brief smile and bowed his head, waiting for the next song’s intro. You knew the setlist, and this wasn’t one of the songs played at previous shows. In fact, you recognized it instantly; it was your favorite track.

Careful What You Wish For hadn’t been played in recent shows, but he knew how much that song meant to you, and he’d included it in Detroit just to show that he did, indeed, remember you. Something damp threatened to pool in your tear ducts; this song reminded you of moments you’d rather forget, moments the band had made more bearable to face.

As the final song ended, the lights went out, and the guys left the stage to the applause of the crowd. Your heart was still racing from the mix of emotions caused not only by the show, but by the series of subtle glances he had thrown your way during the pauses between songs. You bit your lip gently, gripping your glass a bit tighter, wondering if it could be a sign.

But you quickly brushed off that foolish thought and shook your head, dismissing it.

You and your friends finally arrived at the fraternity party, and all of you, including yourself, were buzzing with excitement to start the real celebration. Everyone was in costume, music was blasting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, and alcohol was flowing freely.

It seemed like the perfect night.

“I wouldn’t recommend drinking too much,” Ash warned, pointing at your glass as you sipped the colorful drink through a straw. “The games start in a few minutes, and you won’t want to be throwing up during the hunt.”

You laughed, remembering what happened last year when you mixed a few drinks with cheesy snacks, resulting in a puddle of vomit that took you home before you even considered playing the traditional hunt.

Every year on Devil’s Night, the Lions held a hunt in the Shadow Woods. The game involved all the guests being released into the forest, blindly searching to capture as many targets as they could until they reached the other side. With no flashlights or any source of light, identifying anyone became nearly impossible as everyone wore masks to hide their faces.

A certain chill lingered in your stomach, and a tremor in your legs threatened to shake your confidence, but you preferred to think it was because of the drink, not the fear of who your potential hunter might be. Your mind raced through quick strategies to avoid being caught, though not knowing the Shadow Woods at night made it all the more difficult.

With your feet firm on the earthy ground, you were as ready as the other competitors. You looked around, feeling adrenaline pulse through your veins, filling your brain like a song made to build tension until reaching its peak. You felt ready for whatever the night had to offer.

The whistle blew.

Your legs pushed you forward, running as fast as you could, straining your vision to dodge trees and jump over branches. You listened closely to the sound of dry leaves and twigs that snapped underfoot as the predators ran. All of them were desperate, hungry in their hunt for prey. At the same time, it felt frightening; it was exhilarating enough to make you push for more speed.

Energized, you glanced over your shoulder now and then, trying to detect any approaching threat, but as you pressed on, you heard fewer footsteps. Breathless, you slowed down and marked the trees with your fingers as you continued to walk carefully.

Your steps froze in place when you suddenly heard heavy breathing. The footsteps behind you moved over the dry leaves, signaling that your hunter was approaching stealthily, like a snake. Slowly, you realized your feet didn’t obey the commands in your head—they wanted to keep running, but your body remained there, unmoving.

He knew there was no point in running. He knew you were lost. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Good girl.” His voice whispered close to your ear, making you jump in shock. “You didn’t let anyone else catch you. You waited for us like a good girl.”

“She knew that no matter where she hid tonight, we’d find her.”

“We always find you…”

Through your peripheral vision, you counted all four of them, gathered in balaclavas, closing off any way out. Swallowing dryly, you felt your breathing falter as they each took a step closer, forming a claustrophobic barrier around you.

“Now you’re ours.” Noah’s voice echoed in your ear as you felt the fabric of his balaclava graze your cheek. “Once you lose the game, you become our prize.”

A brief jolt made you sit upright when you felt something wrapping around your wrists; he was tying your hands together with a rope. The remaining length of material was used to fasten another knot around your neck, this time slightly tighter.

In your mind, there was no room for doubt, because you remembered the main rule of Devil’s Night. You were free to make your desires real for one night.

Why not surrender to them?

Slowly, Noah pulled you along the length of the leash, and stumbling a little in your own steps, you followed him. He exuded a scent of sweat mixed with Savage cologne; his arms were exposed by the black tank top, and he wore cargo pants and boots. Each determined step he took made you tense up, fearing what was to come, and the walls in the form of men surrounding you added to your apprehension.

Your steps halted when the tall man pulling your collar from the front froze in place. The forest offered little light, and thanks to the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees, you could see the intricate tattoo designs on his back, partly covered by his tank top.

A breath, subtle but present, brushed your ears with warm breath from behind.

"How about a game?" Folio’s voice was so soft it seemed to dance at a unique frequency. "We’ll ask a question, and for each wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing."

"A game is only interesting to me if both parties are involved. In that case, what do I get if I’m right?" You dared to respond, challenging him with a side glance.

"Don’t act as if you don’t like the idea of not being in control for a few hours…" Folio taunted, stepping closer with a deadly step. His body was too close this time. "All you desire is for the reins to be in someone else's hands, just for one night, someone who knows your dirty mind well enough so you don’t have to spell out what you need. Am I wrong?"

You weren’t afraid of anything and made a point to shake your head in defiance.

"Wrong answer."

"Not at all!" you contested without much conviction. Deep down, defying him and contradicting yourself with feigned reluctance was part of your game.

The cold wind touched your back just as one of their fingers slid the zipper of your dress down, exposing your bare skin. Slowly, you felt the fabric glide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it passed.

You shrank a little, feeling a hint of discomfort when you noticed several pairs of eyes observing your exposed form, but a tug on the leash immediately made you lift your chin.

"Don’t you dare lower your head, darling" another voice murmured as a finger traced along your chin, the wetness of a tongue brushing against the skin of your ear. "Not when you have a body like this. We can savor you without even touching. Consider yourself a goddess, displayed for adoration and worship."

Gently, he slid his hand from your chin to reach your cold-stiffened nipples, slow circular movements warming your thighs as Jolly’s voice stimulated you, his hands exploring your body without any rush.

They wanted you to surrender.

Indeed, you were already theirs.

For just one night, you belonged to them.

In front of you, Noah watched you with a tilted head, as if watching an intimate moment of pleasure was amusing to him. He wrapped the excess of the leash around his hands until it tightened, lifting your neck up toward him.

In one last visceral glance, Noah pressed his lips against yours.

A fierce kiss, charged with desire pent up since the last visit, filling every corner of your mouth, leaving you wanting for absolutely nothing. Between breaths, you let out a contained, low moan as those hands moved from your chest down to your hips.

His fingers, when they found your entrance, sent a current of electricity through the rest of your body. Jolly was warm and soft as a rose petal, he tortured you with the slowness of his synchronized movements on your clitoris and during the kiss you held Noah's lips between your teeth gasping a heavy moan.

Noah smiled, feeling how his body twitched in his friend's hands, he released his lips and dragged them down his face, allowing his moan to reverberate through his ears more clearly.

Just when you were about to give signs that you were going to collapse under Jolly's fingers they suddenly stopped. You panted and wanted to show that you were disappointed, but you didn't have time, Noah pulled you by the collar and turned you so that you were facing away from him. A quick scream escaped your lips at the surprise of the impact of your hips against his, you felt his bulge harden and let out some air through your nose.

A soft hand ran its thumb over her face, a caress similar to the one she felt on her ass as Noah explored her. At the same time they used their thumbs, Noah lifted your dress until you were completely exposed to prepare you, he dipped his fingers in your wetness and seemed to delight in it. Their eyes were fixed on the man before them, gently brushing strands of hair away from his face and lifting his chin.

“Good girl, good girl.” he whispered, sliding his thumb into your mouth, without breaking eye contact, you sucked his finger slowly until you reached the tip.

You watched as Folio grunted and finished sliding his cock into his free hand and bringing it closer to your face, passing it across your lips slowly. You moaned from containing the desire to take him in at once, and from having Noah playing with his head at your entrance in rotating movements. Little by little you relaxed and used your tongue to greet him and a smile formed on your lips when you saw him sigh once again.

Folio grabbed your hair with a little force and demonstrating that the provocation had made him lose his mind, he shoved his dick into your mouth at the same time as Noah entered you. Your screams were silenced by Folio's cock, you used your tongue to drool all over the compliment and without the help of your hands that were trapped you covered his head with the roof of your mouth. As you sucked him, you felt Noah bump his hips against yours in strong thrusts, pulling the collar from your neck each time he penetrated and stopped with his rigid member inside you.

Your legs shook from the force he used, you pressed him against the walls of your pussy and heard him mutter yet another curse due to the lack of space. Her head didn't stop for a single second, going down and up, sucking Folio's cock while he helped her with his hand in her hair.

With each of Noah's thrusts, you felt Folio's cock tear into your throat and you dedicated yourself to not leaving a single space without the contact of your tongue. He pressed your head down more and you enjoyed the taste of the skin trying to contain the entire volume. Noah grew harder and harder inside you and in an explosion of sensations for a few seconds your legs seemed to float.

This was the effect of the devil’s night.

It allowed you to fulfill even your darkest fantasy.

For one night.

[fierylittleniece]

Roxanne almost laughs at the idea. Her mother cooking for her. Or doing anything nurturing at that. She'd only lived with her parents for about 8 years. A spartan existence training under the expectations of her mother. Ballet, language classes, and trips to the library.

While Diana could cook she preferred to only do it for special occasions. Birthdays and celebrations of achievement. Her father made the every day meals. Simple ones that reminded him of his times in the barracks.

"Daddy used to serve me tang mixed with hot green tea. But I doubt you have something like that. Honestly give me everything you give him when he's sick. I want to experience it."

‘ care ’ For Roxy/Liam

Liam sighed, leaning against the door for a moment as he just watched his fiancé.

"I told you that you'd get sick ewring that cover up." He pulled out his phone to text his mother, asking her if she could possibly make some Estrellita Sopita for Roxanne. "You're so lucky my mom's home already."

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked over to the woman he loved. "Bed. I'll call Darren and tell him you can't work."

@fierylittleniece

[loustyleshtommo]

I will defend Taylor Swift like I would defend my big sister because she’s been protecting my emotional wellbeing in the way no one else could. Her music kept me fighting another day, got me through the night I thought that I might die.

[phoenixcatch7]

Every time I go to hyrule castle I remember that video about the royal guard weapons and how they were shiekah tech created to mimic the master sword (and failed - they're powerful but brittle and no more effective against the calamity than anything else). And I just remember the little detail of the wings on the hilt. On the master sword, they face up when the blade points down. On the royal guard weapons, they face up when the blade points up.

And to me, that little detail is very indicative of what they thought about the hero and the cycle.

The wings face up when fi is at rest. Waiting. Sealing. Not lifted.

For them, their swords face up when they brandish them, when they raise them against their enemies, when they wave them around and cheer.

That's what they think the hero does. That's what they think they can replicate and take for themselves.

That's not what a hero does at all.

Sure, he spends a lot of time doing that, but it's a fraction of the whole. The hero does not do it for glory or pay or fame. He is kind. He helps everyone who asks. He gets things for little kids and listens to their stories and helps people find their pets and goes out of his way to leave the stranger a little happier them when they met. He spends hours crawling through mazes and enemies to find something he can use later.

He does not raise his sword in anger. The job is not done once the villain of the day is skewered on his sword. It needs to be sealed, the darkness pushed back until the next generations can take up the call. It's passing on the torch to yourself. The master sword must seal evil during those intervening centuries.

The heroes soul is one, by breath of the wild, long forged in faith and love and determination and the flames of war and loss. The curse of demise makes it so that only one strong enough to stand against it can push it back. The heroes soul is one that is pure. It's a long reset game, and everyone knows the way it plays out.

And under rhoam, hyrule believes it knows all there is to know about the hero and the cycle. It thinks that it can shove the pieces where it wants them, that with the aid of the ancient technology it can force the warnings of history to bend to it's desire. It thinks enough violence will solve the problem entirely. It makes the master sword mimics with the blades facing up.

And it gets it wrong.

The hero reduced to a silent weapon, a shadow of the royal family, the princess helpless and unable to act, unable to access her own power.

It tries to force the issue with manpower and restrictions and piling societal pressure on the children, and hyrule falls.

Immediately, zelda is able to unlock and channel the full extent of her power, she can make a plan and not have it dismissed, she sends link to safety and travels hyrule setting the parts of a constantly moving puzzle into place, she meets ancient spirits and talks with the master sword and seals ganon on her own for the century it takes for link to return.

When he does, rhoam does not order link to save the princess. He does not pile titles and restrictions and pressures on him. He asks him to save his daughter. The hero finally gets to act at his own pace, and he chooses kindness. He chooses to go out of his way to talk to people outside his station, to listen to kids stories and leave strangers a little happier than when they met. He gathers allies loyal out of trust and not forced respect for things he hasn't done yet.

By choosing kindness and not violence (though there is an incredible amount of both), link becomes able to defeat the calamity and save zelda and the kingdom. Zelda is able to guide him and trust him to come. By working together as respected equals, they save the world.

And afterwards, the master sword is returned to her pedestal, triumphant, blade down and wings raised high.

[arklay]

MR. & MRS. WESKER 🤍

i was able to commission the lovely @rcehb-art on twitter for this piece of diana and wesker during their strange after-the-fact reception for their very private wedding. i am just so in love with this and how it turned out, and i can't thank rc enough !! she is so kind and amazing to work with and i can't recommend her enough if you're looking to commission artwork ♡

[urmomsfavelesbian]

🥹 shoutout to my euro bestie moot lina @snowflakenali for easing my genuinely debilitating fomo by not only getting me uk dragcon merch, but also mentioning me to daya who 😭 remembered me by name and Lit Up upon talking about me 😭, AND got a video of willow talking to me and saying my name and saying she’ll see me in april 😭 some public appreciation was necessary for dealing with paypal and crazy lines and for the soon to be hell of international shipping 🥹 and shoutout to my self proclaimed accountant jess @polychromeedge for Also helping me deal with the hell of paypal and always counseling me through my fomo and ridiculous levels of daya induced mental illness and getting excited for me to wake up and see images 🥰 and shoutout to my big sister ashie @dayabot for freaking out about dayasco with me 24/7 for days now and writing endless winding concepts about the vamp wives and coordinating posts with me and letting me send willow n boscy performance videos and endlessly enabling my terminal levels of boscobrain. and an overall shoutout to the gay community and dayasluts working together 😌

[girlwiththegreenhat]

who give a shit about tayIor swift

[ylajali]

i feel like something important that’s really dropped off in the age of cheap, mass produced items is finery. i find something very valuable in my grandparents’ china with gold leaf accent that only comes out at thanksgiving, the porcelain nativity set my mom and aunt painted together, the hand embroidered tablecloth i spent too much money on in budapest because i wanted something to pass down. and not just the value that comes from it being expensive. obviously not everything can be something well made and expensive- and i wouldn’t have much of this stuff hadn’t been passed down to me- but i think we’re all a little too used to .50 cent target dishware and h&m shirts and ikea furniture. we need 90 year old bone china tea sets or grandpa’s gold cufflinks or great aunties mink stoll for our health.

[ittybittybumblebee]

would you believe me if I told you I learned how to draw horse skulls just to draw new guy in 5 shitty shirts of my choosing

OGHNDGFHSFFGNSFSNVNDVVNVDFFBDNNVD I BELIEVE YOUS HE LVOES WEARIGN SHITTY SHIRTS THATS SO GREAT !!! AWESOMEE YAYAYAYAYAY

[yangjeongin]

.

[joowee-feftynn]

what was your strongest reaction to reading a fanfic mine was being unable to eat properly for a week and being haunted by The Thoughts until i cried about it to my partner

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

prev. | next

KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[mywritersmind]

THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4

summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!

listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨

word count : 616

“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”

He spots me then.

I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.

I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.

Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”

“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”

“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.

“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”

“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”

I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.

“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.

“No… sorry.”

At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”

I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.

“I’m Lando! By the way!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.

I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”

He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”

He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?

I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”

“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.

“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”

He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.

“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”

His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”

His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”

“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.

He knows my name.

[rebelfell]

special delivery

eddie munson x fem!reader

A quiet night at home turns into something else entirely when Eddie Munson shows up to deliver your pizza.

Isn’t this how all mediocre pornos great love stories start?

18+ MDNI┃8.1k

cw: light alcohol/weed use, discussions of poor sex-periences, bed sharing, down bad eddie, fingering/oral (fem receiving)

I edged myself a little with this, it’s like a 7:1 ratio of fluff to smut with nothing but tensionnn in between. Just how I like it.

You didn’t mind being alone. Not really.

Truth be told, you kind of preferred a nice quiet night to yourself every now and again. It gave you a chance to read without interruption; to watch a long stretch of episodes of your favorite show you had seen a hundred times before; to indulge in a lengthened version of your skincare routine.

But lately you’d been having a lot of quiet nights.

Winter had settled fully in Hawkins, the frigid weather and barrage of storms lately making it difficult to go out at night or do much of anything other than sit inside and count the walls. And with Robin gone for the whole weekend, the relentless silence of your apartment only made it worse.

You made an honest effort to remedy the situation—sending a handful of texts to anyone you thought might be available, only to come up empty. Nancy and Jonathan were out celebrating some anniversary. Steve had a date with whatever girl he had conned into thinking he was charming enough to go out with this week. And Chrissy was fully buried underneath her coursework, but she “could definitely do something next week!”

So that was that. You knew Argyle was working his usual shift, so you hadn’t bothered to text him. Instead, dialing the number for Surfer Boy as you resolved to drown your sorrows in a pizza loaded with all the toppings Robin always gagged at whenever you suggested them.

It was impossible for you not to beam when the man himself answered, the roughness in his voice indicating he was currently surrounded by a fresh cloud of his beloved Purple Palm Tree Delight.

He was now managing the franchise’s first and only midwest location they decided to open after the California chain started recording a deluge of calls from Indiana and assumed it must be some sort of untapped market. Come to find out, the people in Hawkins were just calling the number on the side of Argyle’s bright yellow van they’d seen riding around town.

“That’s all?” he chortled at your order. “One small pizza? Are you and Buckley planning some kinda Battle Royale fight to the death or something?”

“She’s gone for the weekend,” you explained.

“Oh, really? All by your lonesome then, are you?”

His typically gravelly tone was tinged with a hint of mischief, but you didn’t pay it much mind. This was Argyle, after all. You knew him well enough by now not to try and decode anything that went on inside that wonderfully weird head of his.

“Well, with you at work there’s no one to keep me company, is there?” you teased, putting on a flirty affectation you just knew would make him blush.

“Baby doll, I’ll close up shop right now!”

His deep and throaty laugh made you giggle along with him as he relayed your order to the kitchen staff and then came back on the line to assure you that it would be there “lemony split.”

With dinner ordered, you started to assemble some essentials for your wild night on the sofa— oversized blanket, extra snacks, a small arsenal of face masks and serums. You even splurged a bit and lit one of your nicer candles, the fresh scent of bergamot filling up your living room as you headed into the kitchen to clean up.

About half-way through you doing your dishes came the soft tread of footsteps on the stairwell outside, followed by a bouncy and rhythmic knock being rapped on your front door.

“One sec,” you called out, shaking the remnants of soapy water from your hands and drying them on the thighs of your sweatpants.

Your hand closed around the door knob and you yanked it open only to be bombarded by a head of dark, wild curls and a pair of deep brown eyes that instantly made your mind go blank.

“What are you doing here?”

The words just burst out of you, sounding far harsher than you intended, and Eddie Munson’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk as he looked you up and down.

“Nice to see you, too,” he chortled. “That how you greet everyone who brings you your dinner?”

Your gaze fell to the pizza box he held in his hands that you had missed entirely, too distracted by his eyes and his nose and his lips and those cute little dimples in his cheeks. Not to mention his stupid big hands with his stupid long fingers that were wrapped around your dinner…

“Sorry,” you said, squishing your eyes shut and shaking your head as though it would wipe away your lustful thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or, um…I meant, I didn’t know you worked at Surfer Boy.”

“It’s a new gig,” Eddie said, his smile filled with as much wily charm as ever as he handed over the box. “Argyle convinced me to come on board. Decent hours and the money’s good.”

“Oh…sweet.” 

You nodded back at him and prayed you didn’t sound half as awkward as you felt. With one hand, you balanced the pizza box on your hip while the other reached for the cash you’d set out earlier on the little table by your door. But a frown covered your face as you glanced between the bills and the box you were holding that looked quite a bit bigger than it should have been.

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. “Aw, shit—we didn’t fuck up the toppings, did we?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assured. “It’s just, I only ordered a small and this one’s a large.”

“Oh, yeah. Arg had them change it after he rang it in. He just wanted you to have some extra.”

You chuckled, “Really? I don’t know why, it’s just me tonight.”

“No Buckley?”

Eddie’s brows raised slightly, disappearing behind his twisty bangs as he looked past you inside your apartment. You swayed slightly, in an attempt to block his view of the little couch nest you’d built for yourself. His gaze returned to yours, eyes flickering with something like intrigue.

“You’re flying solo, then?” he asked.

“Pretty much. I mean, I called around a bit and everyone was busy. So…yeah.”

He tilted his head at you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Oh…”

Eddie’s lips quirked in a smile that actually made your breath catch. He didn’t sound offended, not like he was accusing you of anything. But his soft voice and the feigned (it was feigned, wasn’t it?) look of disappointment on his face made your chest radiate with warmth.

The truth was, you would have loved to call Eddie. You had actually hovered over his contact info in your phone more times than you cared to admit, only to keep chickening out at the last second.

“W-well, you’re working tonight,” you reasoned. “So, we couldn’t have hung out anyway.”

“Actually… Argyle cut me early,” Eddie said. “Turned out to be a slower night than he thought, so he said I could call it quits after this delivery.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Well, do you…” You swallowed hard, trying to bring some relief to your throat that had run dry. “I mean, did you wanna have dinner? Apparently, I’ve got plenty of food.”

Another weak chuckle trickled out of you as you held up the pizza box, telling yourself it must be the heat of the pie within making your palms sweat the way they were. Eddie’s dark eyes actually danced under the harsh fluorescent lights of your building’s breeze-through.

“That’d be great,” he said, flashing you a smile that made your knees wobble. “Wayne’s gone this weekend too. Trailer’s kind of lonely without him.”

“Okay! Uh, come on in.”

The sudden shrillness of your voice made you cringe inwardly as you stepped sideways for him to pass, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he acted like he didn’t. He simply smiled as he came inside, pausing to toe off his boots and shuck off his leather jacket at the door.

He’d clearly dressed for the heat of Surfer Boy’s kitchen and not the bitter wind howling outside, clad only in a red and black flannel over a gray tank that seemed to cling to his lean frame as if by static electricity alone. His ratty black jeans taunted you with flashes of pale skin peeking through the holes in the knees and the smell of oregano filled your nose as he fluffed up his hair.

He looked a lot better than you did—particularly when you were in your lounge clothes, which weren’t exactly fetching.

Baggy and oversized, worn threadbare in more than a few places from multiple wears. Splattered with a myriad of tiny mystery stains no amount of washing could get out.

Nothing to be done about it now, you supposed.

Eddie had been to your place plenty of times for parties and movie nights, but that had always been with other people around.

Never just you. Never the two of you alone.

That realization and the nerves it induced made the back of your neck unbearably hot as you set the pizza on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins—all of the dignified and civilized things you’d have to use now that you had an audience.

And alcohol. Definitely, definitely needed alcohol if you were gonna even attempt to be normal.

“You want a beer?” you asked from the fridge.

Eddie nodded as he followed into the kitchen and leaned against the cabinetry. His totally calm and casual demeanor only made you more anxious, your chest getting tight and your hands shaking as you pried the caps off two beers. You clinked your bottle against his and took a long draught, heart racing as you stared at the ceiling.

Chill the fuck out, you scolded yourself. He’s just a guy. It’s just pizza. It’s no big deal, it’s no—

“You okay?” Eddie asked, making your runaway train of thought come to a screeching halt.

“Yeah, totally,” you lied through your teeth. “Um… I guess I was fully in hermit mode already. I really didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.”

Let alone you, you finished internally.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to, like, crash your whole evening.”

“No, no—it’s not like that at all,” you stammered, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah? Okay, good.” He smiled into another sip of his beer. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Your lips spread into a smile that mirrored his and a sort of quiet warmth passed between you. You found yourself staring into his eyes, holding his gaze until it flickered down your body.

He studied you in that soul-plundering way of his that made you feel all light and tingly all over.

“Here, you should have this back,” he said all of a sudden, “I feel kind of weird keeping it.”

You looked down just as he tugged the money you’d paid him with out of his pocket. He held it out to you, only to find your hand already pushing it back, fingers briefly closing over his fist.

“Eddie, no. No way,” you scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you fixed him with a warning glare—a pretty withering one if you did say so yourself. One that made him nod reluctantly and sigh softly in defeat.

“Alright, at least let me contribute something,” he said, returning the cash to his pocket and instead producing a fat, pristinely rolled joint. Argyle’s handiwork, you were all but certain.

You grinned and clinked your bottle with his. 

“Done.”

Beers and plates and joint in hand, you and Eddie headed over to the sofa only for you to stop short when you remembered your former plans for the evening. He watched curiously as you cleared the table, your stomach even more unruly now with half a beer sloshing around inside of it.

”What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various packets and bottles. You laughed nervously.

“It’s just skin stuff. I was gonna do a face mask while I watched a movie…because that’s just the rock and roll kinda lifestyle I lead.”

Your jittery attempt at a joke only made Eddie’s own smile widen as he plucked one of the packets from your grasp and held it up to read the label.

“Can I do one?” he asked.

You choked back another laugh, brow arching at him in disbelief. “Do you want to?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he chortled. “They look kinda like potions or something. Seems like fun.”

You rolled your shoulder in a shrug. “Then knock yourself out,” you said. 

And he did.

Eddie plopped himself down at one end of the sofa and ripped into the package he’d selected. It was branded as a “unicorn” mask, which really just meant it was made out of shiny, holographic paper that shone with rainbows when the light hit it. He admired the swirling colors briefly and then set about laying the mask over his face, his head suddenly turning to catch you staring.

“Am I beautiful yet?” he asked, playfully fluttering his long lashes at you.

You already were.

The thought popped into your head so quickly you almost said it out loud and you had to bite back the comment, your pulse starting to race all over again. You pressed your lips together as you nodded and focused all your attention on placing a pair of gel patches under your own eyes.

Eddie watched you tap them into place, smiling. “You do this a lot?” he asked.

“Every couple weeks or so. More often in the winter because the cold really fucks with my skin. Obviously.” You gestured at your face and sighed.

“I never noticed,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Always looks nice to me.”

The compliment made your face burn in spite of the cooling aloe patches and you shook your head, the tingling in your cheeks only increasing the longer his eyes lingered on you. With shaky hands, you reached for the remote and started flipping through the channels while Eddie dug into the pizza. The both of you hummed excitedly in unison as you landed on an old horror flick just as the opening credits had started to roll, the decision of what to watch made easy.

As you set the remote down and reached for your own slices, realizing Eddie had plated up two and placed them down in front of you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dating sideways to look at him once more. But the moment you did, a loud laugh burst out and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it—failing miserably.

He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, the pink muscle wiggling wildly as he tried to guide the end of his pizza into his mouth through the too-small opening of his mask.

“Hang on, hang on,” you said, taking some mercy on him. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “I’m doing great over here.”

It only made you laugh harder watching Eddie as he kept trying to eat, now clumsily flicking out his tongue like a drunken chameleon and grimacing when he tasted some of the product on his mask.

He stilled, though, as you scooted onto the center cushion and began to further tear the slits around his mouth, your fingers trembling as they brushed the corners of his plush lips.

Too late, you realized how close your face had gotten to his. Your eyes nearly crossed you were staring at him so hard, trapped in his hypnotic gaze as his enormous eyes locked on yours. The deep brown, almost black, of them only looked more otherworldly like this, surrounded by swirls of silver and rainbows like he was some kind of alien or android. Blinking dumbly, as if coming out of a trance, you pulled your hands away.

“Um…better?” you asked, eyes darting away from his face and almost instantly returning.

Eddie tested how far he could unhinge his jaw, stretching his mouth open as far as he could, unencumbered by the chin portion of his mask. He brought his slice up to take a massive bite.

“Perfect,” he said, grinning widely through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.

You actually did manage to relax at least slightly the longer the night wore on, helped immensely by the joint Eddie lit and offered to you to take the first hit. It passed leisurely between you, each of your inhales making it easier to deal with the idea that your lips were basically touching his.

Another movie started up after the one you first put on finished, but you made no move towards the remote. Your body felt warm and relaxed from the high, limbs melding into the sofa cushions like you were becoming part of them.

And Eddie too seemed perfectly happy to spend his night exactly where he was. His unicorn mask sat discarded on top of his pizza crusts and he’d shifted down in his seat, knees spreading wide and filling your mind with…thoughts.

You kept expecting him to make some excuse to leave, freaked out that he’d caught you looking at him just a few too many times for comfort.

But he never did.

“I think this is the last of it,” Eddie said, staring at the tiny smoldering nub pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Take it, it’s yours,” you smiled, letting your head squish against the back of the couch. 

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, now,” he grinned back at you. “Sharing is caring.”

He crooked his fingers, motioning for you to move in closer as he brought the joint up to his lips and steadily inhaled the last hit. He shifted onto the center cushion and you mirrored his movement, his knee bumping your calf lightly as you tucked your feet beneath you, toes wiggling nervously.

With his free hand, he gently cupped the side of your face and tilted your head to the side as his own lips parted and you leaned together. 

A stream of smoke poured out of him and you breathed it in, holding it in your chest for a few moments before you exhaled it back at him. He smiled as your breath fanned over his face, his dimples showing as his cheeks pushed up fully. The sight made your own smile spread, pulling your bottom lip back with your teeth as his thumb softly caressed your jaw.

His lips parted again, a whisper of your name falling off them, sounding like a foreign language. 

You inhaled deeply again, trying to steady your racing heart, your whole body suddenly tingling in a way that was distinctly different from the way it did from the high. It didn’t do any good, though, not when Eddie’s head lifted slightly and you swore his eyes started to close—

A loud BEEP made you jump away, the moment shattered by your phone getting a text.

You instantly felt the loss of Eddie’s hand where it had been holding you, cold now in spite of all the blood currently coursing beneath your skin. You turned and fumbled about for your phone as it beeped again, almost more insistently.

Eddie retreated to his end of the sofa and you gave your head another forcible shake, trying to rid yourself of the shivers running rampant over your body. Whatever you imagined was just about to happen was surely not going to—the weed had to have your mind playing tricks on you.

“Ugh.”

The sound popped out unconsciously, irritation flaring just at the sight of the name attached to the message and making you recoil before you even opened it to see what it said.

“Jeez,” Eddie smirked at your distasteful noise, giving you a sly look. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just some guy I went out with a few times.”

Eddie sputtered slightly on the sip of beer he’d just taken, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks and his eyes rounding slightly as he wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans.

“Oh. Do I, um…do I need to, like, make myself scarce or something?”

A bitter laugh burst out at the implication and you started to shake your head a little too hard. “Ahh, no,” you told him flatly, “Not at all.”

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed, his smile returning, seeming almost a little pleased to hear that.

“How come?” he asked with a teasing smile, nodding at the rest of your skincare on the table. “You don’t wanna get him over here? Get him all nice and moisturized?”

“I’m good,” you assured, clicking off your phone and silencing it before laying it face down on the table. “Not exactly in the mood to beg someone to go down on me tonight, so—”

“Beg?” Eddie scoffed, taking another swig of his beer. “Who has to be begged to do that?”

Your gaze darted sideways, eyeing him curiously. 

“Uhh…all of them? In my experience, most guys aren’t all that into it. You know?”

“No, not really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your own drink stopped half-way to your lips and you chanced another glance at him. Your voice went quiet. Meeker than you would have liked. Lacking all the frankness with which he spoke.

“You…you do?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, making a girl come on your tongue is like…”

He trailed off into silence, looking up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word, but you’d jumped back in before he could find it.

“You make them come? Just…just from that?”

“Ahh…” Eddie faltered now, staring at his lap and picking at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. “Not always. It depends on the girl. But, I dunno…maybe, like, ninety percent of the time?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, eyes rounding with embarrassment when you realized you said it out loud. Beside you, Eddie shifted in his seat on the couch, turning himself towards you.

“Do you not come when they go down on you?”

You blinked back at him, almost too stunned to speak. “Well…no. They aren’t usually down there that long. I mostly just need it because the spit helps when I’m not wet.”

Holy shit. That weed must have been way stronger than you realized for these words to be spilling out of you like they were. Cheeks officially a raging inferno, you focused every speck of your attention on the movie flickering on the TV.

Eddie’s eyes never left your face, though. His expression only softened as he stared at you, his words coming out in a hushed whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Your face only burned hotter from the way he said it. It’s not exactly pity in his tone, or filling his eyes, it’s more like…disappointment.

Disappointment in who, you weren’t entirely sure. And you sure as shit weren’t going to let this go on long enough to find out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we got on this,” you said. “This is way too much information for you.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—”

Eddie’s hand started to reach out for you, but you were already on your feet. 

Scrambling to gather up your soiled plates and desperate to look anywhere besides at him, you hurried into the kitchen to start cleaning up. The weed in your system was starting to turn on you, making your mind run rampant with competing thoughts, the most persistent of them being an echo of Eddie’s voice, hearing the same four words over and over and over again.

I fuckin’ love it.

Just the memory of him saying them made your stomach swoop and your core flutter, your hands shaking as you reached to turn on the tap.

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

Eddie’s voice behind you made your shoulders tense, but you forced them to remain still—trying to look relaxed. The plates in your hands clinked against the sink basin as you set them down and turned slowly, resting your butt on the edge of the counter as you nodded at him.

He moved forward tentatively, setting down the beer bottles he’d brought from the living room.

“Do you like going down on guys?”

Your mouth fell open at the question and you had to quickly snap it shut. “Um…yeah,” you said after clearing your throat. “I like it fine.”

Truth be told…you really did like it. And with the right partner, you kind of loved it.

There was a kind of satisfaction you got watching even the most confident and charismatic guys be reduced to a simpering pile of putty as soon as your mouth came anywhere near their cock.

It was an intoxicating sort of power you felt when you drew the most desperate and eager sounds out of them—like when a guy slid into your mouth for the first time and just groaned in relief, like he had never felt anything as good as you in his life.

“Okay, then,” Eddie grinned, his eyes flickering as he watched your face. “So the person you’re with should like it too, right? He shouldn’t do it just because he has to. He should do it because he wants to make you feel good. The same way you want him to feel good.”

He took slow, careful steps forward as he spoke, the distance between you getting smaller with each. You felt your chest start to heave, trying to keep the furious pounding of your heart under control as Eddie’s body drew nearer.

He came to a stop in front of you, brown eyes trained on the space between your nose and chin. He licked his lips, running the flat of his tongue over the bottom one like he was imagining it was your own. Saliva flooded your mouth and you swallowed it down, lips trembling as they parted.

You thought you might be sick with anticipation, waiting for the touch of his mouth on yours. Because he was gonna kiss you, right? 

God, did you want him to kiss you…

Your grasp curled under the lip of the counter, nails digging into the wood beneath the laminate. Eddie’s eyes broke from yours, flitting down to see your hands clenched, like you were trying to rip off a chunk of it. His brow furrowed slightly and he took a step back, the absolute deflation you felt as he stepped away making your whole body slump as the tension flooded out of it.

It was so overwhelming, you had to look away, eyes landing on the clock over the stove.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped, making Eddie’s head jump back up. “Is it really that late?”

Midnight had come and gone according to the glowing green numbers without you so much as noticing. Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. Instead, he busied himself with getting the emptied bottles he’d set down and tossing them in the recycling bin.

“I, um…I should get out of your hair,” he sighed, ringed hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You weren’t totally sure what possessed you to say what you did next. Something about the sight of his frowning face, the corners of his lips turned down in confusion or even disappointment, it was hard to say which. All you could think was that you didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t have to,” you said suddenly.

Eddie’s stopped short and his spine straightened, his head turning slowly towards you like he wasn’t convinced he really just heard those words come out of your mouth. You shot him a small smile. 

“You can stay over…if you want.”

He stared back at you, doe eyes blinking at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying not to sound like your vocal chords were in a vice. “The roads are shit and it’s late. I mean…it’s only if you want. You certainly don’t have to—”

“No, no, no, that-that would be great, actually,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He took a steadying breath and smiled as his eyes met yours again. “I’d really like that.”

With the sort of energy that would make a hummingbird jealous, you bustled around the apartment gathering a spare pillow and an extra blanket for Eddie while he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. You carried them over to the couch, hugging the linens tight to your chest. 

You thought about how they might smell like him in the morning. How he might wake up with his hair all big and messy from sleep, his eyes half-lidded with crust in the corners, his boxers slung low on his narrow hips, the small trail of hair that swirled just below his navel on display—

“Thanks,” Eddie said, making you jump when you realized he was behind you. 

Your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums as you turned around and held the linens out to him. His fingers met yours among the folds and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“N-no problem,” you said, averting your gaze again as you headed down the short hallway.

You hovered at your bedroom door, glancing back over your shoulder at Eddie as he flicked off all of the lights except the one on the end table, peeling away his flannel to reveal his sinewy arms littered with tattoos. The sight made your cheeks pulse in time with your heartbeat. Among other things.

“Good night,” you said. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes running up and down your body, his bottom lip between his teeth like he was deep in thought about something.

“Good night,” he said finally. “Sleep tight.”

In bed, sleep evaded you. 

You lay there, splayed wide in the center of your mattress, arms and legs stretched out across the rumpled sheets you’d gotten yourself twisted up in too many times to count as you’d turned over and over and over and over, searching for a comfortable position. Finding none.

Any attempt at settling down for the night was impossible when you couldn’t shake this…this… incessant, obstinate, unrelenting need calling out for satisfaction. It was like your body could sense that Eddie was in the next room and was refusing sleep in favor of filling your mind with thoughts of what could happen, of what he might be doing, if you just went out there and went for it.

What if you did? Just strode down the hall and climbed on top of him in the dark? Whipped off your sleep shirt to bare yourself and let his hands and lips roam freely all over you? You could just about feel the cold bite of his rings on your skin, you were thinking about it so much.

The conversation you’d had earlier kept running through your head, his words still echoing in your mind and making you throb everywhere. 

I fuckin’ love it, he’d said. Blatantly. Plainly. Like it should be obvious. But you’d never heard anyone express that kind of affinity for eating a girl out.

The majority of the guys you’d been with, those who had been willing to do it at all, only seemed to be doing so under duress or out of obligation. Or worse, they spent the exact bare minimum amount of time down there in order to get you going, only to stop short, and wasted no time redirecting the focus to their pleasure.

Then, of course, they had all the time in the world.

It was hard to say why, but there was something about Eddie wanting to do it—even being eager to do so, that only made him hotter.

You huffed loudly and pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes, forfeiting the staring contest you were locked in with your ceiling.

This was so stupid. You were getting yourself all worked up, and over what? Eddie was most likely balls deep in a REM cycle by now, and if you went out there and made some kind of ill-conceived “move” on him there was absolutely, positively, no chance in hell he would ever—

Knock knock knock

The gentle raps on your door made you bolt upright in bed. They were so quiet, you thought maybe you might have dreamed them, painfully awake as you were. But then they sounded again, this time accompanied by Eddie’s hushed voice tentatively calling out your name.

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes zeroed in on your door knob, waiting with bated breath for it to turn, but Eddie spoke again before he dared to even touch it.

“Hey, um…can I come in?” he asked.

You tugged your sheets upwards, covering your exposed thighs as you inhaled a deep bracing breath. “S-sure,” you said, still despising the nervous way your voice wavered.

The door finally cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. A little sliver of light from the hallway illuminated your room and you could see his curls were now tied up in a bun, sitting low on his neck with a few short tendrils framing his face. It made it so that you could actually see his ears and you realized for the first time they were kind of cute. 

How the fuck could ears be so cute?

“Sorry to bug you,” he whispered. “But do you have an extra blanket or something? It’s, um…it's kind of cold out there.”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed in realization. “It’s probably the windows. One of them doesn’t close right. Uh, yeah, just let me—”

You started to climb out of the bed, only to freeze as your foot hovered over the rug. The big shirt you had worn to sleep in was long, but not that long. The hem of it barely skimmed the bottom of your ass and if you stood up, you would basically be flashing Eddie your underwear.

Maybe it was okay? It would only be for a second. And it was mostly dark, maybe he wouldn’t even notice? Or maybe you didn’t need to get out of bed at all…

“You know, um…” You licked your lips, daring yourself to look back up at Eddie. “You could just sleep in here. If you want.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered at that, dark brown irises black in the low light, filling with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it apprehension? Surprise? Excitement?

“You sure?” he asked, his voice still hushed.

You swallowed hard as you drew your leg back underneath the warmth of the blanket, nodding at him to confirm, your teeth gnawing at the fleshy insides of your cheek as you did.

He entered the room fully, revealing how he’d stripped down to nothing but his tank top and a pair of blue checkered boxers. As he pushed the door closed behind him and crossed over to the opposite side of your bed, your heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. 

Your eyes briefly darted downwards only for you to avert them just as quickly—telling yourself it must be the dark playing tricks on you, making you think you saw his boxers were half-tented.

The mattress dipped as he settled into the bed with you and you felt a rush of heat that came off his body like a furnace as you both scooted down to lay flat. Your body was rigid as you resumed your staring contest with the ceiling, thundering heartbeat only picking up more speed when Eddie rolled over onto his side to look at you.

“Can you not sleep?” he asked, his voice coming out in a gentle rasp.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you shook your head. “No. You?”

“Nope. I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You inhaled sharply, certain he had to be able to see the effect he had on you even in near pitch darkness. But was it really your imagination that you seemed to have a similar effect on him?

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Eddie nodded, his eyes dropping to your mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip to wet it as he spoke.

“I was wondering if I could…if you’d like me to—”

“Yes.”

The word all but flew out of you, filled with heat and need. And no sooner had you uttered it was he rolling on top of you, his body pressing against yours, his rapidly firming length prodding your heat through your panties. His lips descended on to yours, making every part of you heave in response to his touch. He actually moaned into your kiss, both your lips and his vibrating with the sound. Every part of him moved with yours in perfect harmony, every curve and bulge of his body finding a home against your own.

It’s like you’re warm bread and he’s the butter, spreading smoothly across you and melting into your every crease and crevice.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so long,” he panted out in between feverish kisses dotted along your neck, his teeth nipping at your racing pulse.

“Really?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his hands gliding over the length of your body. “I dreamed about touching you…how you’d sound…what you’d taste like…”

“Jesus Christ.”

You had never felt like this before, your very being thrumming with energy and ready to go off like a firecracker as soon as someone lit your match. You could have chalked it up to the weed, or to the beer, or to the fact that you hadn’t been touched like this in so long—and even when you had been touched, it was nothing like this.

But ultimately you knew…the real reason was him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his pink lips curled up in a catlike smile as he rolled his hips forward, pressing them against you in a filthy grind that had your back arching off the bed.

“Shit,” you gasped, breathless, “S-so good, Eddie—fuck.”

The way he was moving against you had your mind emptying rapidly. It was all you could do not to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him close to increase that sinful sweet pressure he was putting on your core. But Eddie was quick to give you more, pushing up on his hands so his hips married with yours and he could look down at the mess he was making of you.

“Eddie, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, voice all high and desperate. “I need it, please.”

His original offer had officially flown out of your head. All you could think about right now was him being fully seated inside of you, his cock stroking your walls, his thrusts reaching deep. He’d gotten you so wet just from kissing, him going down on you now was practically redundant.

“You want my cock already, huh?” he teased you lowly, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose touching yours. “Too bad.”

His gentle mocking tone and the way he purred so softly made every atom in your body tremble. You stared up at him with your hips squirming trying to chase the friction you so desperately needed as he started to shuffle further down the bed, making you whimper at the loss.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckled at your pitiful little sound. “You think I’m being mean?”

You nodded back at him and his giant eyes glinted in the dark, his handsome face full of mirth and mischief as his chest rumbled with a laugh. The sound of it rippled down your spine, making it go instantly rigid and then slackening like the crack of a whip. Oh, you were in trouble…

“Well, I am mean. And selfish too,” he gritted out, his fingers kneading at your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his fists to pull it taught across your chest. “Because I’m gonna kiss this pussy all I want…all night long, if I feel like it.”

With his words dripping thick and sweet from his lips, he shifted even further down on the bed with a practiced swivel of his hips. He kissed his way down your body, pushing up the hem of your shirt to reveal the bare expanse of your stomach and hips, groaning again as he caught a glimpse of the underside of your breasts.

“I’ve…been waiting…way too long…to taste you…”

His voice slipped back into that lower register as he placed a line of delicate kisses to your navel in between his words. His head dropped lower, lower, lower until he met the apex of your spread thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as he laved his tongue over your clothed slit, licking through the thin barrier until his spit had soaked through the cotton to mix with your arousal.

“Take them off,” you gasped, raising your hips to help him.

If he had decided to tear them, to rip them right from your body, you wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. But he curled his fingers around the elastic and dragged them down your legs, settling back on his calves to tug them off, the blunt edges of his fingernails raking lightly over your skin all the way to your ankles. It made gooseflesh bloom across every inch of you, all the way to your scalp as you pushed your head back into the pillow, so overwhelmed by the feeling.

He works infuriatingly slow. Teasing you, toying with you like it’s a big game. He kissed softly along your seam, nuzzling his face against your inner thighs, skimming his lips over your folds that are doused with your slick, not even bringing his tongue into play yet. It makes your clit just ache for him, the little bundle of nerves yearning for the attention he just won't give it.

Not yet.

Finally, finally, he placed one long kiss on your sensitive bead, popping off far too soon for your liking to murmur softly to you in the dark.

“Can’t believe you had to beg that loser to do this…I’d beg you just to let me do it…”

“Then do it, Eddie,” you groaned, bunching the sheets in your fists. “Please, please, just do it—”

You’re almost crying now you want him so badly, the anticipation making your chest tighten and your lungs constrict. All the amusement drains from Eddie’s face as he looks at you, doe eyes shining like they held every star in the galaxy as he studied your pained expression.

“Relax for me, baby,” Eddie soothed in a steady whisper, his palm rubbing across your stomach. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I promise.”

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you nodded back at him and then closed your eyes to take the deepest breath you could manage. He watched you silently, studying the way your chest rose as you inhaled, and the way you held the breath in for a five count before you released.

And just as your breath crested, just as you felt the relief of the oxygen flowing throug your body, he fixed his lips around your clit and sucked.

The noise that he dragged out of you didn’t even sound human. It was shock, it was calm, it was joy, it was confusion, it was elation, it was rage.

It was as though every emotion you’d ever felt in your whole life was thrown into a blender and that sound was the end result.

Your hips jumped, bucking into his face, but Eddie never faltered. He kept his hold on you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep them spread open so he could continue to devour you. He didn’t just go down on you, his mouth and tongue and chin and nose moved together in any and every possible direction until you yourself had forgotten which way was up.

It made you doubt your very existence. No way was this real. No way could anything feel this fucking good. And yet at the same time, it was too real. The tickle of his hair on your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your most private skin, the noises he made muffled by your pussy lips. Every visceral detail swirled together, rushing you headlong towards oblivion.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie said hoarsely. “Come on my tongue for me, beautiful. I gotta have it.”

He pulled his lips from you, his fingers plunging easily inside your gushing center, crooking up to rub that spot you only ever dreamed of someone reaching. As you clenched around his digits and he could feel how close you were, his tongue returned to your folds in long and languid swipes that ended in fluttering flicks and swirls.

He does everything so carefully, so thoroughly, that the brink he brings you to feels more earned than anything you’ve ever felt. Stars burst behind your rolled back eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners and spilling down your cheeks.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned in earnest abandon, chanting out his name in praise in between heaving breaths to gulp down air.

The aftershock seems to last longer than the orgasm itself, your legs twitching under Eddie’s firm grasp long after the explosive feeling had receded. He slid up to lay next to you, cradling you gently in his arms, out of breath himself as he watched you return to earth, his nose and mouth and chin all glistening with your spend.

“You okay?” he asked, hopeful and earnest, his cocky bravado long since dissolved.

“So good,” you gasped. “It was incredible, Eddie. Holy shit…”

His chest shook with a low laugh at your dazed expression. Your eyelids drooped, exhaustion trying to overtake you, but you forced it back. Suddenly filled with the urge to make him feel as good as you did, you let your hand drift toward his boxers, making his whole body shudder as your hand grazed across a damp spot there.

Wait…was that? No, not a chance. No way did he come just from eating you out.

“Easy, killer,” Eddie chuckled, reaching down for your wandering hand and lacing his fingers with yours to gently tug it back up and kiss it. “What do you want in there, huh?”

“Eddie, please,” you pouted up at him as your eyes fought to stay open. “I want more, I want to make you come too.”

“We will,” he assured you, his fingertips gently trailing across your forehead, down your temple, along your jaw. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Then we’ll do anything you want.”

The sigh you let out was a little huffy, but you couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to rest your eyes—just for a minute. They start to flutter shut and the last thing you felt was Eddie’s warm breath on your ear as he leaned close to whisper,

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Sunlight came streaming through your blinds far too soon for your liking. Its warm rays splashed across your face as it rose in the sky and you withdrew reluctantly from your sleep.

A deep, blissful, fucked-out sleep like you hadn’t had in years.

Everything came into focus slowly as you woke.  The hum of the fan overhead pushing cool air down, the distant chirp of birds from the tree outside your window…the subtle weight of Eddie’s arm slung across your torso.

He was still asleep next to you, snoring softly with his face smashed into the lilacs printed on your pillowcase. You couldn’t be sure if he had fallen asleep holding you or if he reached for you at some point during the night and never let go.

Either option was equally enthralling.

His hair had come loose from his bun, curls now big and frizzy around his face like a lion’s mane. And even in sleep, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Contentedness, like he was in the middle of a really good dream. You even let yourself believe you saw the slight curve of a smile on his plush lips, one you were sure matched your own.

You reached out a hand and gently touched the fringe obscuring his large forehead, brushing them back to reveal the thickness of his eyebrows and the dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Fuck him, if he wasn’t even prettier.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb his slumber, you rolled over onto your side and reached for your phone on the nightstand, looking for the time and instead finding a text from Argyle.

hope u enjoyed ur special delivery ;)

Thank you for reading. love you, mean it! 🍕

This has been gathering dust in my drafts for a minute now.

Been feeling the lack of inspiration/motivation to write lately real hard, so it was nice to go back to something that I really enjoyed writing and had a lot of fun with.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Sex pollen

A/N: Reader is female, also a mutant with logan like powers. Logan calls the reader princess, darling, and his girl. Unprotected sex (Please don't be stupid and do this). I had a few requests for this, and i figured why not post it on Halloween! Happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates, I hope you enjoy the smut. I worked hard on it, but I'm not the best smut writer, lol. Request are open for Logan and Bucky! And I'm very close to 1,000 followers, so I might try and do some sort of special for it <3

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Logan should've listened to you when you said something was going to go wrong during the mission. "I don't know Lo, I just have this feeling that I can't seem to shake" you whined and grabbed his arm trying to get him to reconsider and have Charles send someone else for the mission, but he just disregarded you completely. He was just too stubborn, too proud for his own good, and it was really biting him in the ass now.

The mission was supposed to be normal, just a quick in and out. Get into the abandoned laboratory, do a quick scan to make sure it is abandoned, and then steal the plans for mutant mass destruction. Simple, something he's done a million times before but as he sits in the jet panting, sweating, nearly moaning in discomfort, he realizes how badly he fucked up. Fuck when is she ever wrong? Why didn't you just listen to her?! He groaned internally as he looked at the time, only a few more minutes than he'd be home in your bed, with you in his arms... with his cock deep in your pussy. He let a loud moan fall from his lips as he started to think of your body, fuck did he need you.

You were pacing waiting for Logan to come back from the mission, "Where is he? He should've been home hours ago!" You were beyond worried and frustrated over the whole situation, technically you knew that Logan would always come back home to you but that doesn't make the wait easier, it doesn't make seeing him bloody and aching easier either.

The front door finally opened and slammed shut. Logan's heavy footsteps could easily be heard echoing through the hall, "Logan!" You rushed to him to start checking for any injuries. Before you could ask him if he was okay, Logan pulled you into a deep, feverish kiss.

Logan groaned as he felt you gasp against his lips; his hands started to wander up your shirt as he walked you to your shared bedroom, trying his hardest not to break the kiss. You are the first to pull away,completely breathless and a bit confused."Logan...fuck baby what's going on?" You asked as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving rough bites in their place. "Need you, need your skin on mine, need your pussy choking my cock" he cut himself off with a broken moan as he starts to grind his throbbing cock into your thigh, making you feel how hard he was. "Princess, please." He begged completely helpless.

You were worried, Logan had never acted this way before, never whined or begged, but you'd be a liar if you said it didn't make you wet hearing his deep voice beg for you.

Logan was pawing at your clothes before he finally decided to just rip them off completely. Before you could whine to him about your clothes being ripped, he silenced you with a kiss and promised to buy a new outfit for you. "I'll buy you whatever you want princess, just need to see you, need to see my pretty pussy." He moans pitifully when he does get a glimpse at your sex. "Fucking christ darlin' look how wet you are, all this for me?"

You nodded quickly and pulled him closer, "Logan please, need you in me, fuck me please I need it, need to feel you deep in me for the rest of the week." Your begging made his knees weak, it sounded like heaven to him, and who was he to deny you of what you wanted.

"Whatever, you need princess," he assured you with a smirk as he pulled away to finally undress completely. Your eyes widen seeing how hard he was, "Fucking hell Lo..." You muttered quietly knowing he would still hear you. "Does my girl need me?" He asked crawling up the bed, kissing the skin exposed as he moved further up your body.

When he finally reached your mouth, he gave you a sweet kiss as he slowly thrust into you. Oh, oh my fucking--! He groaned internally as he felt your warm walls stretch around him. You broke the kiss to moan his name, throwing your head back.

You ended up moving your hands to his shoulder to hold on to him better as he thrusted more erratic, and without noticing, your claws slowly started to appear from your nails. Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your claws draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you.

Your warmth, your softness, your smell, your taste. You were the only thing on his mind. He could feel his eyes roll back as his orgasm approaches. With his eyes closed, he could feel every inch of you. It was like he could feel each one of your atoms against his.

His eyes fluttered open when he heard you whimper louder than before. "Fuck you're so pretty darlin, sound so pretty for me...need more, need you to cum." He moaned before he could finish his sentence. "I really, really need you to cum on my cock princess, need you to milk me. Take it, take it all from me princess it's yours." He grunted and moved your legs to be over his shoulders, given him a new angle to thrust even deeper than before. You screamed his name as you came on his cock. He leaned down to have your chest press together as he prepared to cum deep in your pussy, "Gonna cum-fuck gonna cum deep in my pussy, keep you full for a while then when it's dripped out, I'll fuck you again to keep you full all over again." His pelvis rubbed against your clit, making you clench around him even tighter than before thanks to the overstimulation he was giving you. Feeling you get even tighter made Logan moan out and finally give in before cumming as deep as he possibly could.

It felt like an eternity before Logan finally stopped cumming. He collapsed on top of you, completely breathless and his limbs felt numb. "Holy...fuck darling" he nearly giggles as he basks in his afterglow, in all of his life he cannot remember a time where he ever came like that. "I don't think I'd ever fucked that good before" he said kissing the bruises that he could reach that was slowly disappearing on your skin.

You sighed happily, feeling his lips on your skin. You started to play with his hair softly as you hummed in agreement. You couldn't remember ever having sex that intensely before. "What did you get into on that mission?" You asked curiously, and he shrugged. "Not much. There was this pink powder that poofed in my face, though." He said as if it meant nothing, "Logan!" You tried to look at him to see if he was drugged in some sort of way but before you could, you could feel his cock hardening inside you all over again.

Logan moved to have you caged between his arms once again and asked with a knowing smirk, "Round two?"

Well how could you say no to that?...

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@slowlikehoneyyy

@iamburdened

@brisinggamenwearer

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday

Word count: 7.9k

a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV

The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 

You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 

Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.

Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.

He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.

The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 

After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.

From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 

Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.

Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 

You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.

"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 

"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."

Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.

He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 

“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 

Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 

His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.

He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”

You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.

“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”

Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.

He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”

And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.

As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.

“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.

You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."

Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."

His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”

He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”

Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”

The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.

“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.

“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”

You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”

“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.

Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.

You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?

As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.

After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.

You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 

“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”

His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.

His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.

Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.

“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.

“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.

Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 

When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.

Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.

Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.

Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.

Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.

You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.

He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."

His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.

That’s when you made your decision.

"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"

You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.

For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.

He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.

"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.

Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.

His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.

The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.

Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.

“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.

Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”

His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 

And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.

It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.

A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.

"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.

Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.

The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.

But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.

"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.

His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.

Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.

The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.

Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.

"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.

You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.

Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.

Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”

With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.

This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.

"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.

Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"

You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.

Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."

You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”

"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."

His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.

Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.

"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.

Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.

You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”

He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."

Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.

Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."

"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"

With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.

He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 

"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 

You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"

Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.

His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.

After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.

Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.

"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."

"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”

But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.

Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.

Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.

“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.

You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.

Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.

You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.

“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.

You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.

Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 

After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.

You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.

Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"

You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.

Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.

Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.

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