#just me doubting my writing...again lol

[chaoticstrata]

WIP...Monday? (Rookcanis Fic)

I realized I didn't post a work in progress-last Wednesday, so here's a longer one today!

I'm not 100% with this. It feels like I'm forcing too much, but it could be that I'm not used to having so many people in a scene. I'm trying to give some backstory for Kai and to set up the next story.

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The dining hall was filled with the smells of roasting brussel sprouts, cooked pork, and coffee. Rook could already feel his stomach rumbling, more than ready to dig into dinner. However, there was still some time before everything was done. Sighing, Rook settled in further on the corner of the couch, one foot tucked under his leg while the other was flat on the floor. A book he found on old poisons cradled in his lap as he casually read the contents. Maybe he could find a poison for Viago to add to his collection, for the other man’s nameday. Although, with how particular his mentor was, that might be an impossible task.

“Hey Rook?”

Rook slowly looked up from his book as one Bellara Lutare sat down next to him in the cozy little corner they’d been building up since arriving at the Lighthouse. Her uncertain tone suggested she was about to ask him something he may or may not want to answer. 

Raising a brow he replied, “Yeah, Bel?”

“Could I ask you something sort of personal?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, “Well maybe not sort of…most definitely personal…but you don’t have to answer! Or you could say-”

“Bel,” Rook interrupted her with a soft laugh, “What’s the question?”

“Right, sorry,” she said, shifting in her seat. “I couldn’t help noticing your facial tattoos…or uh…” 

“My vallaslin? Yeah, they are a little hard to miss,” Rook chuckled, already knowing where this conversation was about to head. He noticed a few of their other friends looking over with varying levels of interest. Which wasn’t surprising in all honesty. He couldn’t remember a time where he went into a large amount of detail about his past with the team. They pretty much knew the basics--that he was a Crow of house de Riva, a spellblade Mage, a bit of a sarcastically sassy bastard, and that he was addicted to coffee just as much as Luancis was. So, of course, they were going to be interested in new information they could glean from him.

The veil jumper seemed excited by the confirmation “So they are real! I mean, of course they’re real but…”

“Bellara,” he laughed, dog earring the page he was on and closing the book. He looked over at her, more than highly amused. “Are you, in a roundabout way, trying to ask if I’m Dalish?”

“Yes,” she replied abashedly as she gave him a sheepish look--adorable crooked grin and all.

The Crow chuckled again. 

“I was born into a Dalish clan,” Rook shared, “but I left the clan with my mother when I was around six. She raised me with my father in Treviso.”

“Oh?” Bellara asked, scooting her chair closer in excitement, “Which clan?”

“I…don’t know, actually,” he admitted, shrugging when she gave him a curious look. “I was young when we left, so I only have vague memories of the clan, and my mother refused to tell me when asked.”

“What about your father? Did you ask him?” Davrin inquired as he joined them in the sitting area. “You mentioned he was in Treviso with you.”

Rook hesitated a moment, trying to think of how to respond that wouldn’t subjugate him with further questions…at least about his fathers.

“I did mention that, yeah…but the man I call father isn’t the man who helped bring me into this world. He’s the one who raised me,” the elven assassin explained, “…my birth father, my Da, died around the same time we left the clan.”

Bellara gasped softly while Davrin visibly winced. 

The Warden instantly apologized. “Shit, Rook, I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright Dav, there was no way for you to know,” Rook interrupted, giving him a small smile. “No harm done, I promise.”

“Still…” Davrin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Before an awkward silence could fall over them, Taash dragged over a chair from the table and sat on it backward.

“So, why’d you and your mom leave your clan?” they asked, resting their chin on their arms.

Rook couldn’t help but grin at Taash’s straightforwardness, it was his favorite thing about them. Admittedly, he saw them like the little sibling he never had, especially with helping them discover themself much like he did all those years ago. It felt like he had taken them under his wing and became the over protective big brother. Granted, they’d probably say they didn’t need his protection--which was true, but still. Was this what Viago felt about him? Like a big brother? Rook certainly played the role of annoying little brother…so, probably not the exact same way. 

Setting his book on the table--he knew wasn’t going to get a chance to open it again before dinner--he raised a hand and let fire dance over his fingers before extinguishing it with a closed fist.

“Because my magic manifested and the clan already had too many mages,” he said matter-of-factly, “and they were very traditional with…well, everything--or so my mother tells me.”

“I take it they had a Keeper and a First?” Davrin asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, plus a few others, like a spirit healer and apothecary…I think,” Rook answered, “They were pushing five or six when I was born. While they were a larger clan in general, that was still probably too many for them.”

“Why would too many mages matter?” Taash inquired with a frown.

“Oh! There’s a number of reasons why,” Bellara spoke up, “To keep the Templars away, to keep from infighting on who would be First or Keeper--granted…that still usually happened…and it really depends on the clan.”

“It also meant less of a chance of demons or abominations…” Davrin added, sipping from the cup he brought over, “one could easily wipe out a smaller clan…”

Rook stopped listening after a bit, glancing over at Lucanis, who was still working away in the kitchenette. To the casual observer, the other Crow showed no indication he was paying their conversation any mind. However, Rook could see by how he positioned his body and tilted head that Lucanis was keenly listening in. 

His attention was drawn back to the conversation around him when Taash directed another question towards him.

“So are you Dalish or Antivan?”

Rook grinned and leaned against the arm rest.

“Not that I’m exclusively one or the other,” he chuckled softly, “but…I consider myself an Antivan who pays homage to his Dalish roots where he can.”

“Oh…” they murmured before tilting their head inquisitively, “Did your mother teach you all the Dalish stuff then?”

His smile softened at the question, knowing they were seeing similarities with their own mother.

“She did, but only after I asked about it…although she did stroke the flames of that curiosity by telling me old Dalish bedtime stories,” Rook replied with a soft laugh. He gestured to his vallaslin, “I got invested enough to learn elven and ask for these when I came of age--typically not how that is supposed to be done, but my mother didn’t seem to mind.”

“Did those hurt?” Taash probed.

“Fuck yes they did,” Rook laughed, grinning when Darvrin and Bellara nodded in solidarity. “And that was with someone who knew what they were doing.”

“Were they done by your mother?” Bellara asked, leaning forward in her seat, “She knows how to do blood writing?”

“No they weren’t, no she doesn’t, and mine were done by a Keeper,” he replied, a small grin on his lips.

“Wait…but…”

“Not the Keeper from the clan we left,” Rook chuckled, “There’s one that passes by Treviso and trades there often. Clan Velannor. They’re…a little non-traditional--compared to most clans anyways.” 

“How so?”

“While they do keep various traditions alive, they strive on looking forward to the future of elves instead of back. Because of this, Keeper Nerian had no qualms about performing the blood writing ceremony.”

[deoidesign]

This is your sign to be unhinged about your own characters and stories

I am giving you permission to make yourself whatever you want. set yourself free.

Make relationship charts.

Quizzes.

AUs.

Memes.

Moodboards.

Gifsets.

Animations.

Comics.

Form headcanons of your own characters, write yourself fanfic, dream up theories!

If it's fun, do it! DO IT!!!

You and your characters deserve to live!!!

It's enrichment!!! do it!!! Be alive and breathe life into your work! let it live!

[nerdyqueerr]

sometimes i think a little bit about how the Wyrm's ultimate Evil Ploy on Elora was to grant her heterosexual marriage and then not only does she turn that down but she and two lesbian knights defeat the evil AND THEN the Power Of Love comes in to save the heterosexual marriage guy but its literally just the power of his sister saying hey come back i miss you. and, dear readers, i find myself going insane a little

[sergeantjessi]

hey google how do you ask for reassurance without actually asking for it

[blubble-lake]

it's been over 2 weeks and this thing (unfortunately) still has a grip on me

[themyscirah]

If Red Lantern Rankorr has 1000 haters one of them is me. If he has 100 haters I'm there. If he only has 1 hater that is me. If no one hates him I am no longer on this Earth. I hate Rankorr. Fuck that bitch

LMAOO going through my drafts rn and damn I really hated this guy. I mean I still do but idk this is funny to me

[welcometogrouchland]

It's either coming up to my period again OR I've just developed a disease where I get misty eyed at even the most banal sequences and scenes in ghibli movies. I was crying during the early parts of ponyo

[whimsyprinx]

also idk if I just talk too much or tell too little or some combination of both

[orcelito]

Honestly. OK. It's been some weeks since I did any writing. And I SHOULD push to finish ladue chapter 3. And i will. Eventually. BUT

My brain keeps scrabbling towards trigun, & I know it's inevitable I'm gonna write smth for it, but I still don't know what to write bc Realistically I'm still in the digestion phase. I'm not the type who will write while in the middle of absorbing a thing. I will write only after I have reasonably completed the thing, bc I would DIE if I got any details wrong for the thing

So yes I watched all of tristamp, but im only 20 ish chapters into trimax, so I'm not gonna be writing anything until after I finish that manga. Which you'd THINK would be good incentive for me to push to read the manga. But get this. Wolfwood Fanfic Good.

Also anytime I start reading I can't stop & I have literally given myself headaches doing this reading all of original trigun manga in one go And then 2 nights ago reading chapters 4 through 20 of tristamp in one go. Yes I read a few more last night and didn't get the Brain Grip, but I can tell shit's about to go down HARD & that's what got me getting only 4 hours of sleep the night before last bc i could not stop READING

I have to be cautious. Hyperfixations are a dangerous thing if you don't have the time to commit to them.

.... and I still really wanna write vashwood fanfic 😭

[queenerdloser]

literally hyperfocused so much i spent about seven hours getting a semi-polished draft of my statement of purpose completed. jesus christ??? weeks of farting around with it and one day of actual work that got it to a state that's shareable and like 85% completed... yes that IS so typical of my work habits lmao.

[arolesbianism]

If I ever do get properly into dst character modding I like have to make an oni character mod at some point, but the issue is Id want it to be an Olivia mod so bad but also Nails is as far as I'm aware the only legal character name wise and as such it feels like it has to be them, y'know for the bit. But also I have already written too much Olivia dst dialogue and I need an excuse to use it damnit

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

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Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

[hinadori-chan]

okay, i think i’m in a good enough headspace to interact with fandom properly again

sorry if i confused anyone by still posting on here, tumblr is my home and i still wanted to keep my keigo posting off of main lol

thank you to everyone who was understanding, i really appreciate your patience and kindness while i work through shit

[parfaitblogs]

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 

And then he was free. 

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 

You couldn't complain. 

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?" 

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 

"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?" 

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 

He liked to hear you. 

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 

"Touch myself?" 

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 

Thankfully, you didn't have to. 

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.