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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 months ago

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Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

Taglist: @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @andiebeaword @boldlyvoid

(I know several people asked to be tagged, but if you didn't have that you were above 18 in your blog you won't be tagged in this one!

Please reblog, comment, and like! Feedback and encouragement and interactions are wonderful to receive. Thank you!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #dr spencer reid

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algae-tm · 5 months ago

Text

SUMMER LOVIN’

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You and Charles fall in love in St.Lucia (one shot)

Warnings: none?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

INSTAGRAM

youruser

liked by yourbffuser, and 124 others

youruser: you think you just fell out of a coconut tree???🥥

view all comments

yourbffuser: HELLO??!! Who is the man????

- youruser: what man?

- yourbffuser: now i KNOW you aren’t serious. in the second pic!!!!

- youruser: oh him… that’s pookie 😋🤭

- yourbffuser: count your motherfuckin days

yoursisteruser: you collect white men like pokemon smh

- youruser: gotta catch ‘em all!! 😏😤

-yoursisteruser: sigh

charles_leclerc just posted

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charles_leclerc: St. Lucia 🌊☀️

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user1: why is he so boyfriend coded in the 2nd pic?

- user2: don’t be alarmed bestie but it might have something to do with the literal girl he’s holding hands with in the 3rd pic…

landonorris: is this what the youth call a soft launch?

-charles_leclerc: you are the youth

carlossainz55: ay who’s the girl?

— charles_leclerc: No one and everyone

— user1: wtf does this mean 😭 😭

— user5: why is this simultaneously the dumbest yet most romantic thing I’ve ever read, and I have a boyfriend 😭

— user6: girl- tell your boyfriend to step up or leave him… the bar is in literal hell. — user7: bro releases a couple songs and thinks he’s cool and mysterious

youruser just posted

liked by yourbffuser, and 129 others

youruser: cute solo travel idea- get a man to take you places

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yourbffuser: two posts with the same guy? I fear we’ve lost her

- youruser: NOOOO I’m still a bad bitch, I’m licensed and everything!!

- yoursisteruser: heartbreaker turns into lover girl… story for the ages

yoursisteruser: who is he???? Your fans want to know!!

—youruser: just a cute monegasque

—yoursisteruser: is that a cheese or something?

— youruser: a place apparently… he gets stroppy when I call him French 🤷🏾‍♀️

charles_leclerc just posted

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charles_leclerc: summer lovin’ happened so fast

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user4: two posts with what I’m guessing is the same girl… please twitter users starts sleuthing!!

— user5: or, hear me out, bit of a wild suggestion, just let them be?

— user3: do you think they were together b4, or he found her on holiday??

— user4: wait holdup I didn’t even think of the possibility that this could be just a vacation romance you’re so right @user3

— user5: why do I even bother with these people

pierregasly: day 67895 of asking you to tell me who she is!!

— user53: lmao Pierre is one of us confirmed

— user43: close! He actually knows Charles personally so no he isn’t one of you

— user53: now what did I do to you? 😭

youruser just posted

liked by yourbffuser, yoursisteruser and 150 others

youruser: bye bye bye you were bigger than the whole sky…

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yourbffuser: oh pooks

yoursisteruser: glad to know you have a heart

— youruser: bite me

— yourbffuser: time and place, bestie @yoursisteruser

MESSAGES

SIX MONTHS LATER

MESSAGES

3 MONTHS LATER

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by lewishamilton, arthur_leclerc and 5,234,432 others

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

(tagged youruser)

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lewishamilton: nice to see it brother! You know what they say

— youruser: once you go black!

— lewishamilton: I was gunna say the course of true love never did run smooth…

— youruser: mine works better!!

— user4: lmao she’s hilarious

— user5: and just as chaotic as Charles 😭 they’re made for eachother

—user6: idk I think he needs someone more introverted… she’s attention seeking (this user was blocked by charles_leclerc)

—charles_leclerc: blocked 🤭😙

—youruser: my man, my man, my man!

landonorris: she’s gorgeous

— charles_leclerc: why do you live to cause me distress??

georgerussell63: blimey, was only yesterday you told us you never got her number

— maxverstappen1: very stupid

— danielricciardo: Max be nice

— maxverstappen1: sorry

carlossainz55: well done cabron!

youruser: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

arthur_leclerc: she’s lovely

— charles_leclerc: isn’t she just

•••••••••••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

#charles leclerc smau #f1 smau #charles leclerc x black!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 x black!reader

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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

Text

THE OTHER GUY PT.3 | FC43

an: let's go part three! i'm really loving this series, i'm trying to push for 4/5 parts? lmk if there is anything you guys want to see in particular! love you guys <3

part one | part two

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 31,475 others

no excuses

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The low hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic clang of weights filled the resort’s gym, but Franco wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His focus was locked on the woman in the corner, working through her routine with laser-like focus.

She didn’t notice him, which was for the best—he wasn’t ready to deal with her sharp tongue or the way she looked at him like he was the villain in her story. But right now, she was different. She didn’t have her guard up, didn’t look like she was ready to tear him apart with another sarcastic comment. She looked… gorgeous.

It wasn’t just the way her ponytail swung as she moved, or the way her tank top clung to her in all the right places. There was something else, something about the determination in her eyes, the way she focused on each rep like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fierce. Strong. And, damn, if that didn’t make her even more attractive.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool. Franco knew he shouldn’t be watching her like this, but it was hard to look away. Every time he saw her, something pulled him in, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend it was just because she hated him.

He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. The way she challenged him, never letting him get too close, always keeping him on the edge. And yeah, maybe that was part of the thrill. But now, as he stood there, watching her with sweat glistening on her skin, it wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.

He wanted to ask her out.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed under his breath. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn’t stand him. She’d made that clear from the start, and asking her out would probably end in her laughing in his face or worse—publicly roasting him on her Instagram for the world to see.

But still… he couldn’t shake the thought. The way she made his heart race, how every word from her lips felt like a dare. He wanted to take that risk, to see if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind her walls. Something she wasn’t ready to admit.

“Mate, what are you staring at?”

The voice of his friend, Diego, snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Diego walking up beside him, his water bottle in hand and a raised eyebrow on his face.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but it was too late. Diego followed his gaze, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been standing here for a full five minutes staring at her like a lost puppy.”

“Callarse la boca,” (shut up) he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” Diego’s grin widened as he leaned in, lowering his voice. “So, when are you going to ask her out?”

He shot his friend a look. “You’re joking, right? You know how she feels about me. She’d chew me up and spit me out before I even got the words out.”

“Maybe,” Diego admitted, shrugging. “But maybe she wouldn’t. Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been eyeing her for days, and it’s not just because she’s Logan’s best friend and Oscar’s sister. You’re into her.”

“I’m not—”

“Mate, you are.” Diego cut him off, raising his hand. “And here’s the thing: girls like her, the ones that give you a hard time? Half the time, it’s because they’re scared of how much they like you. You know the saying, ‘keep your enemies close’ and all that.”

He shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t deny Diego’s words were getting to him. Maybe that’s why she was always so sharp with him—because she was scared. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.

“Look, you’ll never know unless you try,” Diego continued, nudging him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts you down? You’ve survived worse, need I remind you of your ex?.”

He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes drifting back to her as she moved through her final set. Diego was right—he’d survived worse, and if she shot him down, at least he’d know he tried. And if, somehow, she didn’t… Well, that was a risk worth taking.

“Fine,” Franco said finally, running a hand over his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out.”

Diego grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just be cool, alright? Don’t be the cocky bastard you usually are. You’ve got this.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he took a deep breath and headed toward her, the pounding in his chest wasn’t just from nerves. It was excitement. He was ready for the risk.

francolapinto

liked by williamsracing, carlossainz55, ynpiastri and 984,237 others

keep pushing during the break

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You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as you finished your last set. The gym was quiet this time of night, just the way you liked it. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—fewer chances of running into Franco.

You shook her head, scolding yourself for even thinking about him. Why was he constantly on your mind? Maybe it was because he seemed to pop up everywhere. The pool, the restaurant, and now—you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror—the gym.

Your eyes flicked to the reflection. There he was, leaning against the doorway, watching you. You could feel his gaze, the same infuriating, intense look he always gave you, like he was daring you to react. It was infuriating how much he got under your skin, how he was always there, always pushing.

You turned your back to the mirror, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. It wasn’t nerves, not really. It was more complicated than that—a mix of irritation, confusion, and something you refused to name. You weren't about to let him know he’d gotten to you, not when he was probably waiting for you to snap, just so he could make some smug comment.

But he didn’t leave.

You could feel him still there, watching, and it drove you crazy. You could handle the public stuff—the jabs on social media, the press interviews where he dropped some flirty comment about you, like he was trying to bait you. But this… this was different. He wasn’t playing to an audience here. This was just him, watching you like you were the only person in the room.

Your heart pounded, and you hated it. Hated that he had this effect on you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the dumbbell in your hand. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d leave. But then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer made your grip tighten even more. He wasn’t leaving. Of course he wasn’t.

"Hey," his voice cut through the air, smooth and casual, like he hadn’t been staring at you for who knew how long.

You straightened up, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning around, schooling your face into a mask of indifference. You weren't going to let him see any weakness.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone sharper than youintended.

He hesitated for a second, almost like he wasn’t sure what to say. That was a first. Usually, he had some cocky remarks locked and loaded. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes. A vulnerability that threw you off guard.

“I was just… wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or something,” he said, the confidence in his voice wavering just enough for you to notice.

A drink?

You stared at him, completely blindsided. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. Was he seriously asking you out? After all the snark, all the public back-and-forth?

You should say no. You should laugh in his face, tell him to take his ego and leave you alone. It would be the easiest thing in the world to turn him down.

But the words didn’t come.

Instead, you found herself staring at him, taking in the way his usually cocky demeanour had softened. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t playing some game to get a rise out of you. He was just… asking. And there was something disarming about that.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you hated that, too.

“You’re joking, right?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No joke. Just thought maybe… we could talk. Outside of all this.”

You could tell he was waiting for the rejection. You could practically feel the tension rolling off him as he braced himself for your inevitable shutdown. But for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like fighting. She felt… curious.

Why now? Why you?

You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “You know I can’t stand you, right?”

His lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“And yet you think I’d want to get a drink with you?”

He shrugged, his eyes still holding yours, like he was trying to figure you out. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”

You wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, you found herself biting your lip, considering it. And that was the most frustrating part. Because as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny there was something between them. Something you couldn’t explain, but it had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment you two had met.

You should say no. You should walk away, like you always did.

But instead, you found herself meeting his gaze head-on, searching his face for any sign of the arrogant playboy you’d convinced yourself he was. But all you saw was sincerity. And that was what made you hesitate.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms tighter. “But one wrong word, I’m gone.”

His smile was instant, warm, and more genuine than you’d ever seen. “Deal.”

ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,437 others

alllllcoooolllllhol es muy bueno

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The bar is dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the resort. Normally, you’d appreciate the calm atmosphere, but tonight, you can’t shake the nervous energy running through you. You don’t know why you agreed to this—sitting across from him, sipping drinks as if you aren’t the same person who publicly can’t stand him.

Franco leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same relaxed expression that always makes your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never been surfing?” His voice is casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world.

You shrug, swirling your drink in your hand, trying to act unaffected. “We’re a racing family.”

He grins, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll have to take you sometime. I bet you’d be a natural.”

That teasing tone, the cocky smile—it should annoy you. It does annoy you. But there’s something different tonight. He’s not playing for an audience, not trying to rile you up like usual. It feels… real. And that’s what unnerves you the most.

“You think I’d take surfing lessons from you? You think I’d voluntarily hang out with you again?” you quip, raising an eyebrow, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Absolutely. And you’d love every minute of it.”

You roll your eyes, but even as you do, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. When did this become easy? When did you start enjoying his company?

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to steady yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re supposed to dislike him. He’s supposed to be the cocky new driver who replaced Logan, the guy you roast on social media. So why is your heart racing?

“Are you okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, softer now.

You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the glass in your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, setting it down.

But he’s still looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. And for the first time, you don’t know if you can hide behind your usual sarcasm. He’s seeing through your defences, and that terrifies you.

“Listen,” he says, his voice low, almost gentle, “if this is weird for you, you can leave. No pressure.”

Your heart skips at the way he says your name, like it means something more than just another person in his world. Vulnerability flashes in his eyes, and you hate that it makes you feel something, something you’ve been trying to ignore.

You’re about to make a snappy comeback, to brush it off like always, but instead, you just sit there, staring at him. The space between you feels too small, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

Then a thought came to the front of your mind, was he going to kiss you?

The thought sends a jolt through your system. You should pull back, say something snarky, shut this down before it goes any further. But you don’t move. And neither does he.

The tension is electric now, crackling between you like a live wire. He leans in, just slightly, enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, and you realise—so do you. You’re leaning in, too. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow. You can feel the moment hanging there, fragile, on the edge of something you’re not sure you’re ready for. You’re ready to blame the alcohol but you hadn’t even finished your first drink.

And then, just as the space between you is about to disappear, a voice shatters the moment like a glass breaking.

“Oh my god Franco! Can I get a selfie with you?”

The interruption hits you like a bucket of cold water. You jerk back, blinking as you realise there’s someone standing beside the table—a girl, wide-eyed and holding up her phone, looking at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon.

He glances at her, clearly surprised, but quickly recovers with that easy charm of his. For a second, the connection between you snaps, and the intensity of the moment is gone.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, smiling at the fan. “Just give me a second.”

You lean back in your seat, trying to get a grip on yourself. Your heart is still racing, and you feel the ghost of what almost happened hanging in the air. You hadn’t realised how close you’d come to crossing that line until the moment was interrupted. And now that it’s gone, you don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Maybe. But there’s a part of you—a part you hate to admit—that’s disappointing.

He turns back to you, his face apologetic, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, standing up to take the photo.

You watch as he poses with the fan, your heart still thudding in your chest. The moment between you lingers in the air, but now, with the interruption, it’s slipping away. And you’re not sure if you want it back or if you’re relieved it’s gone.

twitter

imessage between logan and yn

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn

comment if you want to be added to the tag lit xx

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #williams #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x yn #oscar piastri #oscar piastri sister #williams f1 #williams racing #williams formula 1 #logan sargeant angst #logan sargeant smau #f1 social media au #franco colapinto smau

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rynbutt · 7 months ago

Text

pierced. pt.2 | spencer reid.

When you hadn't heard from Spencer in 3 weeks you thought you'd jumped the gun a bit... Or maybe he was just nervous.

pt. 1 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

cw: fem!reader, mentions of periods, mentions of alcohol, kissing, fluffy <3

a/n: i got carried away :,)

The bar bathroom smelled of booze, sweat and another third thing you’d rather not think about.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, leaning over the sink to fix your lipstick with your finger and thumb. You fished around in your purse, pulling out the black tube of lipstick and plucking the cap off. You puckered your lips, admiring the matte colour in the smudged bathroom mirror that you dare not touch.

You were trying to be social for a change, perhaps meet some new people and make some new friends. After all, you didn’t know anyone and the cute FBI agent you met and gave your number to hadn’t called you since your interaction 3 weeks ago. You tried not to mull over it but you thought you landed a cutie, thinking he found you attractive too; he did find your boobs fascinating, the least he could do was buy you a drink.

A pub crawl probably wasn’t the best place to start with making friends, it wasn’t really your thing. But after some of the new hires who started along with you invited you out to a pub crawl (you just happened to be sitting in the break room at the same time) you decided to just give it a shot. You soldiered through dinner and the first two bars you followed them along to, but when they left without you at the third, you were ready to down one more drink, call a cab and curl up with Tofu on the couch.

You leaned over the sink, adjusting your black mini dress over your shoulders before grabbing your purse, letting out a tired sigh at your failed attempt at establishing some much needed friendships in this huge city.

“Shit, shit, shit! No-” A woman cursed from the stall behind you, sounding like she was rifling through her purse.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, knocking on the stall door.

“Oh, uhm, yeah… actually, do you have a tampon or something?” She asked quietly, seeming embarrassed.

“Shit, yeah, I do,” you quickly said, rifling through your purse for your stash of pads and tampons. A must whenever you go to bars, you never know when you or someone else will need it. “Here,” reached over the stall door, holding it as far out as you could for her.

“Oh my god, thank you, you’re an angel,” she breathed a sigh of relief, taking the tampon from you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled to yourself.

“I’m going to get you a drink as a thank you.”

You chuckled softly, “oh, please. It’s really no trouble.”

“Ah- ta ta ta, I insist,” she retorted.

Maybe you would make a friend tonight.

You stood by the basins as she flushed and pulled the stall door open. She wore bright pink heels and her hair sat in perfect curls over her shoulders, with thick glasses perched on her nose. She exuded sweetness.

She smiled at you sweetly, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s all good, I always have extra on me,” you grinned. “Just in case.”

“I like where your head’s at. The one time I didn’t bring my normal purse,” she laughed, washing her hands with the miniscule amount of soap left. “I’m Penelope Garcia,” she stuck her hand out for you to shake.

You shook her hand, “Y/N L/N.”

“I love your dress, you look gorgeous,” Penelope said, the two of you leaving the grotty bathroom together. You glanced down at your black mini dress, smiling to yourself at the compliment.

It had been a while since you broke it out of your closet. It was your favourite though, hugged your curves perfectly and had long sleeves that kept you warm but a deep neckline to show off your cleavage.

“Thank you, it’s been a while since I’ve worn it.” You replied, letting Penelope link her arm around yours as she ushered you to the bar through the crowd of people.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” she suddenly asked.

You laughed at her abrupt question. “No… Why, you got a cute friend?”

“I do!” She exclaimed excitedly, making you chuckle. “He’s real sweet, you should totally hang out with us… That’s if you’re not here with anyone?”

“No, no, I’m not. Well, I was, but they left-”

“Without you?!”

“I don’t know them that well, it’s fine. I mean I just moved here.”

“But girl code? You never leave a girl by herself in a bar,” Penelope said, clutching her necklace, she seemed far more offended than you were.

You and Penelope continued to talk and laugh at the bar while you waited for the line at the bar to subside. She asked you all about how you liked moving here and when you told her about your cat Tofu, she insisted on seeing photos. She bought you a tequila sunrise and ushered you over to the booth she said her friends were sitting at.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, she just saved my life,” Penelope exaggerated, introducing you to the very official looking group of people seated in the booth.

But you lost interest in them quickly when you spotted Spencer Reid, the man who apparently doesn’t own a phone.

“Oh, hey,” you said, your voice raising an octave as you pointed at Spencer.

Spencer furrowed his brows, almost not recognising you without your tight baby blue tank on, “Y/N?”

“It’s Dr. Can’t Call Back,” you teased. The man you recognised as Agent Morgan let out a laugh, clapping a hand over Spencer’s shoulder.

“Wait, you know Reid?” Penelope asked.

“She lived in the apartment across from a crime scene, we interviewed her,” Morgan explained before staring down Spencer, “And little boy wonder managed to get her number and didn’t call her.”

“What!” Penelope exclaimed. “She’s hot!”

You covered your mouth as you laughed, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m sure he only took my number to be polite.”

“Oh he did not,” A blonde woman laughed. “He talked about it for days.”

“Oh, really?” You raised a brow at Spencer, who was almost beet red at the sudden spotlight on him. Penelope ushered you next to Spencer into the booth, the two of you pressed together between Morgan and the blonde woman.

“Yeah he did, couldn’t get him to shut up,” Another woman with dark hair said.

“I was going to call you,” Spencer said defensively. “But I got busy-”

“More like nervous,” Morgan retorted with a laugh.

Spencer sunk into the plush leather of the couch and you spent the next hour learning everyone’s names and learning that they were all in the FBI. Now that they knew who you were, there goes your chances of being a sexy drug lord.

It was nice to feel included, everyone asking you about your new job, where you grew up, what you liked about moving here, you finally made some new friends. Penelope sealed the deal when she gave you her number, promising to take you to lunch some time to thank you for your heroic act in saving her.

You glanced at Spencer as he shifted uncomfortably next to you, “you wanna get a drink?” you asked, attempting to get him away from everyone and talk to him.

He nervously moved some of his hair out of his face, “Yeah…Yeah sure,” he replied quietly, a slight nervousness in his voice.

The two of you slid out of the booth and you grabbed his hand as you pulled him to the bar. His hands were clammy with nervousness but he didn’t let go of your hand until you dropped his hand, leaning on the bar.

“So…”

“I was going to call you. I really was,” he said quickly, letting out a shaky breath.

You laughed at his nervousness, “It’s okay, Dr. Reid. I’m not holding it against you.”

“Spencer,” he corrected.

“Right,” you smiled, “Spencer.”

“Here, look,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket along with the note you left him, which was cute, considering it kept it on him for this long. He glanced at the note and quickly dialled your number. Your phone buzzed in your purse and you answered the call. “There, now you have my number.”

“Nice save, pretty boy,” you saved his number in your phone, typing his name into your phone along with a little heart.

“...You look… very nice,” he said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You grinned coyly at him, “thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Though, I feel like you always look like that,” you flirted.

“I try to look presentable,” he replied, not really picking up on your flirting tone. “I have an important job.”

“Of course,” You laughed lightly, your fingers reaching up to gently fix his collar. Your fingers grazed the side of his neck and his breath caught in his throat, gulping back the lump of nervousness that formed. You were really pretty, someone he considered way out of his league.

After you gave him your number, he spent the entire car ride back to the BAU staring at it, heart thumping loudly in his ears at the idea of seeing you again. He tried calling your number a couple of times and got nervous because he had no idea what to say. Would he ask you on a date? Obviously. But what do people do on dates? He had to be assertive, come up with something and be confident, but his mind went blank staring at your number. And wikihow really wasn’t helping.

“Hey guys, we’re off,” Emily walked over to you and Spencer at the bar. “Hotch’s hailing a cab.”

“Oh, right. Do you need a cab? I-I can cover it,” Spencer looked at you, reaching for his wallet.

“I live nearby actually, it’s just a couple blocks away. I’ll just walk,” you smiled.

Emily frowned at you, “this late? That’s not safe.”

“I’ll walk her,” Spencer quickly said. “I’ll catch a cab from her place.”

“Oh, Spencer, you don’t have to do that,” you squeezed his forearm.

Spencer waved you off, “it’s safer if I walk you home.”

Emily glanced between the two of you with squinted eyes. She smiled cheekily, wiggling her brows at Spencer, “...be safe.”

Spencer scoffed at her implication, making you giggle. You picked your purse up off the bar stool and let Spencer lead you out of the bar. You said goodbye to Penelope and JJ, waving the rest of them down as Spencer waited for you to say goodbye.

“Keep him safe, pretty girl!” Derek called from the cab window.

“Will do!” You chuckled.

The more you thought about it, the more you realised it was probably a good idea Spencer was walking you home. You had learned a lot about your new home over the last 3 weeks but having Spencer, who you came to understand was a bit of a genius, proved to be very convenient. Spencer seemed to know where he was going more than you did, you just followed along next to him, your shoulders occasionally bumping.

“How long have you been in the FBI?” You asked, linking your arm with his. He nervously let you do so but you could feel him tense under your touch. “This okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay… Uh, I’ve been in the FBI for four years, two months and two weeks exactly,” he replied, “...Eidetic memory, I tend to keep track of that kind of stuff.”

“Mmm, I’ve always had a thing for dorks,” you flirted with an airy laugh.

“I’m not a dork,” he retorted defensively through a laugh.

You looked up at him, “Only joking, Spence. Intelligence is attractive.”

He beamed internally at the nickname. Sure, JJ called him Spence, but it sounded like honey when you said it, made his heart race and his skin run hot. The two of you walked in comfortable silence and you yawned quietly, not realising how tired you were until you left the overstimulating environment of the bar.

He walked you up the steps of your apartment building, waiting for you to take out your card that let you into the building. You pulled the door open and Spencer reached to hold it open for you. You paused, turning to face him.

“Thank you for walking me home. I really appreciate it,” you smiled.

“It’s okay, I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he replied, exuding a kind of nervousness he wasn’t before.

You laughed lightly at how adorable he was before pressing up on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He tensed under your touch but soon relaxed. You pulled away and began laughing, “Oh shit, I got lipstick on your cheek.”

You pulled your sleeve over your finger and began smudging it away. Spencer suddenly grabbed your wrist softly, taking a deep breath of courage and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You barely had time to register it and as soon as it started it was over and he pulled away, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I… I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “Shit-”

“Woah, Spence. It’s okay,” you grabbed his hands, trying to recapture his attention as his eyes stared at everything but you. “Hey.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” he laughed nervously.

“...Maybe you should kiss me again?” You suggested, doe eyes staring up at him. His breath caught in his throat as you leaned up again, arms hooking around his neck as your lips brushed his softly. Your voice was quiet when you spoke, “Do you want to kiss me again, Spencer Reid?”

“...Yeah,” he muttered out. You grinned before leaning in to kiss him, hands cupping his face as his hands landed on your waist nervously. He kissed you with a gentleness that left you dizzy. He was clearly nervous but you stroked his cheekbones with your thumbs as he deepened the kiss, tilting your head back like he wanted to consume you.

He pulled away, forehead resting against yours. You laughed gently at the smear of lipstick over his lips, your thumb coming to rub it off as best you could.

“Mm, that colour suits you,” you chuckled. He let out a breath of a laugh as he pulled away from you, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “I don’t usually kiss men I haven’t even gone on a date with.”

“Well, I don’t kiss girls… end of sentence,” he replied.

You laughed at his response, unhooking your arms from his neck and stepping into your apartment building. “Well, you’re good at it, Spence. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Well… Will I see you some time?”

“Call me back first,” you teased.

Spencer stared at the pavement and laughed nervously, letting you kiss his cheek one more time before you left him at the door of your apartment building, heading to the elevator. You waved at him as the elevator dinged and he waved back with a tight lip smile.

You leaned against the cool metal of the elevator wall, grinning like an idiot as you watched the numbers above the door light up. You suddenly felt your phone vibrating in your purse. You pulled it out, half expecting it to be your mother calling. You smiled as Spencer’s name appeared on your phone, you answered, holding it to your ear.

“Hi, Spencer.”

“Can I take you to dinner?” He asked, his voice breathless as you assumed he was trying to catch a cab. “Tomorrow night?”

“I’d love to,” you grinned.

“I’ll pick you up… maybe don’t wear a tank top.”

a/n: kinda obsessed with these two, i'm creating a taglist if anyone wants on :) just send a message to my inbox <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #criminal minds #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #dr reid #dr reid x reader #criminal minds x reader

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hotvintagepoll · 6 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Diahann Carroll (Paris Blues, Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess)— Face of an angel. She had the range. She brought chemistry with every romance she portrayed. She also had a great fashion sense, and was so pretty Mattel made a doll based off of her.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Diahann Carroll:

Another groundbreaking black actress, although she might be better remembered for her television roles. She was also an activist and worked with charities to support women in need.

here she is hanging out with shadow prince anthony perkins :3

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

youtube

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

#diahann carroll #katharine hepburn #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6 #Youtube

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irndad · 1 year ago

Note

Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3

As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah

I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333

wc:1.1k

There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.

Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.

He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.

“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.

She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”

He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?

It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.

She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.

Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.

Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.

“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.

He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.

“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.

“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“

“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.

“What happened?” He asks again.

“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.

The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-

“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.

“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”

“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“

She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“

“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”

“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”

And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.

And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.

Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”

Her voice comes out small.

“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“

She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.

“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”

Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.

She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.

“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”

After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.

It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x You #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear x reader

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rafesfavbimbo · 3 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/rafesfavbimbo/759916281819430913/writing-rafe-cheating-on-sofia-with-reader-is-so

Okay so what about where the reader and rafe are bestfriends and they had a fwb thing going on but then rafe started dating sofia and you can spin it how u want the cheating thing to go

oooo yes i love this! gonna make this angsty!

TW: cheating! (sort of??) angst!!! there will most likely be a part 2 DW!

Read Part 2 Here

Read Part 3 Here

Pairing: FWB!Rafe Cameron x FWB!Reader

Y/n has never felt so betrayed in her life. Rafe was the one thing, the one person she’s ever felt that was hers in life. Someone who understood her in so many ways and never judged her for not being a perfect person because he himself was far from it. Someone she’s spent so many days with talking about anything and everything. She knew everything about him and he knew everything about her. Not only do they know the ins-and-outs of each other’s minds they know the ins-and-outs of each other’s bodies.

It didn’t take long into their friendship to start fucking each other. They were both hot, wild and had a chemistry that was unmatched by anyone else. The Kook princess of Kildare and the Kook prince who was always by her side. So many nights spent tangled in each others arms and sheets. So many moments of sneaking away or spending hours taking each other apart till they were both left panting, bodies shaking and limp. Falling asleep in each other’s arms or even Rafe falling asleep while still inside her. So many times of her prancing around his yacht and home naked until he threw her over his shoulder and took her to where he wanted to ravage her. She’s met no man like Rafe Cameron and no man has invaded her mind, heart, soul and body like him. And she was sure it was the same way he felt about her. So why the fuck is her Rafe wrapped up in some slum, pogue girls attention? Not even noticing his best friend standing in front of him in the prettiest outfit, heels and jewelry. Hair done perfectly and makeup flawless as her perfect body shimmered with body glitter. Stunning figure on display and the only thing souring her beauty was the look of hurt surprise on her face.

Why the fuck was the country club worker who she knows her as, sitting in her spot. Right next to Rafe and nuzzled into his side with sparkles in her eyes that Rafe seemed to be returning as he looked down at her. Y/n’s heart breaking more by the second and soul deflating as she stood there going unnoticed by the one person who always noticed her. Her efforts all for him being completely disregarded for this boring fucking girl.

Y/n’s eyes almost began to tear up as she stood there staring at Rafe from the entrance to the balcony deemed the ‘VIP’ area by Rafe whenever he threw a grand party, such as now. Y/n ready to take her usual spot which is now resided by her…Sofia. The fucking country club girl. Y/n stood there watching them wrapped up in each other until Barry looked up from racking up a line, gold tooth gleaming as he shot her a smile. Taking notice of where her gaze fell and immediately knowing exactly what had her beautiful face in that displeased scowl.

Barry let out a low whistle, running his gaze over her stunning figure and face. Taking in the pretty get up and flawless makeup she was wearing. Which he knew she did just for Rafe, who he can’t believe is fumbling the finest girl on the island for some boring pogue not even he would turn to notice. “Ain’tcha a sight for sore eyes sweetheart,” he spoke up, watching as her stunned gaze moved to his and holding it. No energy in her body to give him a smile or accept his compliment from the shattering in her chest. Rafe and Sofia finally noticing her as they turned to look at her. Rafe giving her a warm smile as if he didn’t just break her soul and Sofia sizing her up while nuzzling deeper into Rafe’s side. Feeling like she’s won because she managed to snatch his attention away from his gorgeous best friend. Big ego boost for her.

Y/n didn’t say anything, saddened smile turning into a an angry gaze as Rafe greeted her and motioned her to sit next to Barry with a quick “sit down, want you to meet Sofia officially.” Moving her aside as if she was nothing and so quickly replaced by someone like fucking Sofia. Tears began to quickly build up in her beautiful eyes and run down her cheeks, still not making an effort to speak. She didn’t know how she could with the ache in her chest. The way Rafe so easily disregarded her and tossed her to the side. Expecting her to sit by Barry? When her spot is next to Rafe, always by his side. Until now, so easily replaced.

Y/n turned around and stormed away, her heels clacking with each quick step as she held in the sob forming deep in her chest. Rafe’s brows furrowing in concern and confusion as he shot up quickly and ran after her shouting her name. Barry giving a dry laugh of sarcasm and Sofia left smirking as she felt she had won. Barry only gave her a quick side eye of disdain, shaking his head as he mumbled a quick “dumb fuck.” Hoping Sofia heard it, although it was meant for Rafe.

“Y/n!” Rafe shouted, running down the stairs as she slammed the glass door behind her and ran forward to her car. Ignoring his calls of her name and fumbling in her handbag for her keys while she wiped the tears off her cheeks. Cursing to herself when she took too long to find them and finally grabbing them, unlocking the car and just about ready to open her door when she felt a large hand grip her upper arm. Turning her around and pinning her to the car with his arms on both sides of her; locking her in. Y/n whimpered just from feeling his touch and smelling his cologne. “What the fuck is your problem?” He questioned her gruffly, grabbing her chin to turn her face to his when she refused to make eye contact. Meeting her pretty eyes as tears fell down her cheeks, more welling up quickly when she looked into those cobalt eyes she loved so much.

“Whats wrong? Why are you crying, huh?” He continued to push her, genuinely confused as to why she was emotional and ran out the way she did. Her heart cracking more at that. He didn’t love her the way she thought. “How could you?” She finally spoke up, voice gritty with emotion. Face hardening as they stared into each other’s eyes. “How could I what? What are you talking about?” He pushed her again, feeling her manicured hands slide in between their bodies as she began to push against his chest with force.

“How could you bring her here, huh? An-and then to let her take my place? How could you?!” She sobbed harder, beautiful makeup now ruined by her grief. Rafe’s mind finally clicking. Scoffing and pushing away from her as he looked at her like she was crazy. “How could I what? Bring a girl around?” he said with attitude, crossing his arms against his chest as he stared her down. “Hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n. But you’re not my girlfriend. We’re friends.” He spoke coldly, rolling his eyes and looking to the side while her spirit broke even more. Keeping quiet as he turned to look at her again, no warmth in his eyes.

“Had I known me fucking you would get you so attached, I would have never made the mistake. You’re not my fucking girlfriend, y/n. I can bring whoever I want to my home and stick my dick wherever I want. If you can’t handle that this was casual then I don’t know what to tell you, not my fucking problem. Now you can either clean yourself up and enjoy this great party or you can leave. You’re killing my fucking mood.” And with that he backed away slowly, staring her down. Watching the light die out in her eyes as he finally turned around and marched into his house. Slamming the glass door behind him. A physical representation of shutting her out.

Y/n quickly got into her car, sobbing into her hands as she took in his words and let herself feel the hurt they caused. Not even knowing how she drove home with all the grief and heartache pouring out of her body. Running into her house and straight to her room as soon as she parked. Immediately ripping the pictures she had of both of them plastered on her walls and taking the framed picture she had of them and smashing it on the ground, watching as it shattered. Stomping on it with her heel for extra measure. She sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at her pink wall as she thought one thing to herself.

If Rafe wanted to act that way with her. Act like they didn’t have a connection that ran deeper than casual sex then so be it. She wouldn’t mope around and act like a little bitch over him. She wouldn’t let him win, even if her soul was shattered and her heart stomped on by him; she wouldn’t go down. If there was one thing she knew is that yes she loved Rafe Cameron, but she loved herself more. And she wasn’t going to let him ruin her. He’d regret the day he ever spoke to her or treated her with such little regard. One thing that connected them to each other is Rafe Cameron could be a real asshole. But she could be a real fucking cunt and he was gonna know that side of her. Always on the opposite spectrum of her attitude. But now, any warmth she felt for him dissipating. She was going to bounce back and leave him the the dust. Fuck Sofia, fuck feelings and most of all fuck Rafe Cameron.

A/N: Idk about yall but when men do me dirty I don’t get sad I get even!🐰🌸💕

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut

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demonicbaby666 · 2 months ago

Text

The Boiling Point

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst and a dash of smut

Words: 3.9k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, light smut, one bed trope, a butt loads of sexual tension, fingering (r!recieving), a slight bit of miscommunication/lack of communcation

Summary: Months of friendship, endless banter and sexual tension all lead to one boiling point.

A/n: @prentisssgf this ones for you <3 I hope it'll put a smile on that gorgeous face of yours and lives up to your expectations. Have an amazing birthday doll! Love and kisses xxx

As far as cases went, this one wasn’t so bad. Sure, the team was stretched a little thin, paperwork was piled high, new cases were flooding in, and bureaucracy kept tensions mounted amongst the higher-ups, but every cloud had a silver lining. You found yours on a Wednesday, around midday, walking into Hotch’s office with Emily at your side, having both been summoned.

“I’m sending you two. I need the rest of the team here.”

A two-person unit would leave you with a load of groundwork: liaising with local authorities, checking out the crime scene, heading to the coroners and ordinarily, that would have overwhelmed you had it not been for the fact you’d have Emily by your side the entire time. Emily, who was now shifting her weight from foot to foot, fidgeting with the loose skin around her nails as she bit the inside of her cheek.

You nudged her, ascertaining from Hotch’s stare he was scrutinising her every move. She straightened her spine and puffed her chest, giving your boss a solid nod as she awaited further instructions.

“You can take the jet. No detours, though,” he said with a smirk, giving the pair of you a once over before bringing his attention back to the paperwork littering the oak desk. “Now get moving. Garcia will fill you in on the details.”

“Damn. I was hoping for a pit stop in Vegas, a quick game of poker, maybe even a couple goes on the slot machines.” You received a blank stare from Hotch and honestly, given the state of affairs running a muck through the BAU, you couldn’t blame him for not entertaining your fruitless attempts at comedy. “Jet. No detours. Garcia will fill us in. Got it.”

And with that, you made to leave the room, trying to tame the rosy tinge of embarrassment burning over your cheeks. For the sake of propriety, you waited till you were out of sight in the elevator, on the way down to the car park, to elbow Emily right in the ribs.

“What was that for?!” She cried, holding her side.

“Don’t think I didn’t see your smug ass smirk on the way out,” You groaned. “I made a tit out of myself, and you thought it appropriate to bask in my misery.”

“For a profiler, I thought you’d read a room better,” Emily laughed, walking out of the steel death trap and into the parking lot, pulling out car keys.

“Says the woman who was smiling like an idiot at the prospect of having me all to yourself for a couple of days.”

She stopped in her tracks, “Got a problem with that?”

Did you have a problem with an attractive co-worker turned friend relishing your one-on-one company? No. Did you beam at the opportunity of having her alone, knowing you’d be able to let your affections run free to a certain extent? Yes. But did Emily’s ego need to know that? Hell no.

It took a couple more steps to realise Emily wasn’t following. Though you were eager to get going, you deeply regretted turning to usher her towards the car. It was her stance that knocked you off kilter. Her folded arms, hip slung to the side, and arched brow made it an outward struggle to remain upright. Had her legs always been that long?

“As smooth as cases go with you and I working together, I can’t say I’m not feeling the slightest bit put out by the thought of having to do a majority of the heavy lifting.” Emily didn’t seem convinced, her eyes squinting as she picked apart truth from lie. Her glare stretched out for too long, and you were beginning to wither under it; the spark of curiosity that drove her to excel at her job was bright and unyielding, threatening never to let go of this subject matter until she got the answers she wanted. You couldn't have that.

You walked towards her, hiding your fear behind a mask of false confidence. The scales were unbalanced, Emily reigning supreme with her brazen approach to the underlying sexual tension that plagued your friendship and you drowning in it—that required change.

With each step forward, Emily took one back till her eyes were wide and her back pressed against the car park wall, and she had nowhere to go. You took victory in the shiver that racked through the brunette, relishing the delicious taste of her withheld breaths skating across your skin. The look of disbelief she wore grew louder when your hands bracketed her shoulders, palms flat against textured concrete.

“What are you doing?” She asked, breathy and fidgety. You couldn't help but let your eyes drop to the rise and fall of her chest, to her bobbing throat.

Dropping one hand to her cheek, you drew her lips open with your thumb, “Taking what’s mine.”

After a few hurried blinks, Emily’s eyes closed, her breath stilled, and you struck. You used the hand, keeping you steadily leaning over Emily to push yourself away. At the exact same moment, you reached down and plucked the forgotten keys from between her fingers.

“I want to drive,” you said, turning and walking towards the car with the biggest shit-eating grin plastered across your face.

Emily’s steps were laden with the force of a thousand stampedes as she stormed after you. Unsurprisingly, she caught up with you quickly, but not quickly enough. By the time she reached the car, you had already clambered behind the wheel and had the engine started. From the corner of your eyes, you observed the difference in Emily’s demeanour. Outrage had burned her cheeks red. Her breathing was steady, but you could see how focused she was on maintaining it as she flicked invisible dust particles off her blazer.

“You’re a little shit,” she muttered.

“Like calls like and all that.”

When you reached the runway, Emily was back to her old self–shooting off teasing remarks about your driving and keeping close to your side as you made your way to the jet.

“Do you know how many road violations I counted?” she asked, sitting beside you and setting up her laptop. Garcia was due to call any minute. “There's nothing wrong with being a passenger princess. Honesty, I think it’d suit you.”

“You sure know how to compliment a girl.” You rolled your eyes and pulled out two case files from your bag, dumping them on the table and flipping one open.

“You should see what I can do in bed.”

Judging by how fast you snapped your neck, you wouldn’t be surprised to wake up the following day to discover a muscle tear. There was a reprimand on the tip of your tongue, ready to rip a hole right through Emily’s self-satisfied smirk. However, before you could reinstate yourself as the reigning champion of inappropriate workplace flirting, a shrill chime tore through the weighted silence.

Emily looked so pleased with herself. It killed you to have missed the opportunity to knock her down a few pegs.

“Saved by the bell,” she hummed, accepting Garcia’s call.

It wasn’t a long debrief by any means. Garcia divvied information on the victims and their histories between a rundown of each crime scene and any other bits of digital data she’d acquired that would aid the case. It went on for ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Work began at the drop of the call, you and Emily scribbling down notes, batting theories to and from each other till you’d weaned down the profile from anyone to the standard white male between the ages of thirty and forty—surprise. Miles high from where the bulk of your work would take place, you and Emily had exhausted every avenue you could. After half an hour of back and forths and meticulous reviews of each victim, of which there were thankfully only two, you gave into idle chatter and then comfortable quiet.

The jet looked different without all its occupants. It still held its comfort, forever the resting place after a long couple of days, but the barren landscape remained off-putting enough for you to seek solace on the lonely couch. A trusty book in hand to pry your racing mind away from the stress of your job.

“Mind if I join you?”

Emily hovered over you, one hand empty and gesturing to the unoccupied space beside you and the other holding her current read. She had her finger wedged within the pages, keeping her place as she waited patiently for your answer.

“Sure,” you smiled softly, scooching to the side.

Paragraph by paragraph, the space between you and Emily was eaten up. By the closing of your chapter, your thighs were side by side, and the older woman had somehow managed to sling an arm over the back of the sofa without your notice, mindlessly twirling with the ends of your hair around her fingers.

“Sorry.” Emily began to pull her arm away, but you held her still.

“Don’t be.” You brought her arm back down, looping it over your shoulder as you rested your book on your lap. “I could do with resting my eyes, and the pillows aren’t nearly as comfortable as you.”

“Well then,” Emily began, a sure smile lining her lips, “I’m all yours.”

Once you’d shuffled around a bit, tucking your legs underneath you and leaning further into Emily, you settled your head down on her shoulder, snuggling into the familiar scent of her herbal shampoo. Emily’s hand slowly migrated down to your waist, where she pulled you closer and held you tighter.

“Emily?”

“Mmm?” she replied, her eyes still on the book she’d impressively managed to keep open with just one hand.

“Could you read out loud?” Your request was met with the turn of Emily’s head and the soft crease of her brows as she gazed down at you nestled in the space between her neck and shoulder. You’d seen her angry, you’d seen her sad, you’d seen her happy, but whatever this was, you’d never seen. The afternoon sun had chosen her milky skin as its subject, a canvas to paint its balmy glow over. Her eyes were lighter under its yellow and orange hue, making it oh so easy to get lost in the space where her chocolate irises met the blacks of her pupils.

She looked beautiful like this. She looked at ease.

“Of course.”

—

You roused to quiet, Emily’s lilt no longer warming your ears with its eloquence and clarity. She didn’t even seem to be reading anymore. Her book closed and placed on the armrest as she watched clouds fly by. She did not jump, freeze or move at all when you spoke.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, rubbing your eyes and quietly beaming at how sleep had shifted your knees to rest over Emily’s lap. The position felt remarkably close to cuddling.

“I’m trying to figure something out,” she started, eyes filled with mirth as she turned to look at you. There was movement along your waist–Emily’s hand gliding up and down, intermittently pausing to trace circles into the intercostal space between your ribs. She’d have had to be blind to miss your throat bobbing as you swallowed a shiver.

“Go on…” you prompted.

“I don't understand how something so cute and tiny, especially when sleeping, can cause such a ruckus.” She bit her lip at the mix of horror and mortification donning your face, waiting to deliver the punchline. “You snore.” Oh, she looked so fucking proud of herself.

“I do not!”

“At first, I thought something was up with the jet, but then I realised you were practically vibrating next to me. Seriously, you should get your sinuses checked.”

“Now I know you're taking the piss.”

A great bark of laughter tore from her chest, and you hadn’t a clue what to do with yourself. On the one hand, you wanted to punch her, and on the other, you were enthralled with the sweet melody of her joy, desperate to hear it for whatever duration was left of your flight.

“If I weren't so comfy, I’d slap you,” you groaned, relaxing your muscles against the warmth of Emily’s side. “How long till we land?”

“Not long, twenty minutes maybe.” She brought her free hand to your face, brushing past your cheek and reaching for the strands of hair that had fallen loose in your slumber. “We’ll head straight to the latest crime scene. The media have already caught wind of the murders, so we’ll have to keep them at bay with a statement.” She listed off your itinerary, tucking your hair back in place behind your ear. “I’ll ask JJ to handle that remotely once we know more. Then, we can head to the precinct and talk to the victims’ families. You take one, I'll take the other.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded wistfully, taking Emily’s hand into your lap, trailing your finger over the lines marking her palm.

Emily’s plan was carried out—first, the sweeping of the crime scene and the reiteration of JJ’s statement to the cluster of rowdy journalists and news correspondents. Then, at the station, you spoke briefly with the police chief, gathering characteristic information about the families you were due to meet. It always helped to have a measure of knowledge regarding the personalities you would encounter.

When the sun drew its last breath over the skyline, you and Emily agreed it was time to call it a day. Hotch sent the address to a nearby hotel, letting you know everything had been handled, and all you had to do was give your name to whoever was working the front desk. So, for the life of you, you couldn't understand how you’d found yourself in heated discussion, or rather argument with the hotel receptionist.

“There must be some mix-up,” you moaned. Emily was standing by you, uncharacteristically quiet and of no help. Her focus appeared to be on her phone as her fingers clattered over the digital keyboard with scary determination.

“I’ll sort this out,” Emily said frostily. Bringing her phone to her ear, she walked away.

As you stood in the hotel lobby, left a little out of sorts by the unresolved problem of your nightly stay, you could see Emily pacing the length of the room, back and forth and back and forth, nose flared, jaw clenched, and words sharp. You tried not to overthink her anger, how the thought of sharing a room with you brought about so much outrage. Was it that abhorrent to share the same space as you for a single night?

By the time Emily returned, she looked defeated. She barely acknowledged you before setting her wrath upon the guilty-looking clerk.

“Surely not every room is booked for tonight,” she sighed, impatiently drumming her fingers on the marbled desk surface.

The click and clack of a keyboard filled the awkward silence.

“Unless you’re willing to take the honeymoon suite, we unfortunately have no other rooms free tonight.” The undeniable proof of the woman’s statement came with the turn of the computer screen. Everything was red except one column. Emily’s eyes bulged at the collection of numbers gathered at its side.

Enough was enough. You weren’t about to let her pay an obscene amount of money just because she couldn’t stomach the thought of sleeping with you. She’d have to suck it up.

“It’s fine,” you whispered, struggling to find conviction in your statement under the sudden attention of Emily and the receptionist. “We’ll be fine sharing.”

—

The hotel, for all its expensive charm, was quaint. The floor was carpeted and looked freshly cleaned, the bedding was crisp and neat over the queen-sized bed, and adjacent was an open door leading to what you assumed would be the bathroom. Once you’d set your bag down, you ignored Emily, too caught up in your disdain for the woman’s callousness to even look at her. She likely had disgust written all over her face, surveying the bed.

You took out your sleepwear, plucked a neatly folded towel off the foot of the bed, and stormed into the bathroom.

When the first spray of water hit, you wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. How had you been so stupid? The flirting, the underlying sexual tension–had it all been a wicked trick played by your mind? Did the months spent waiting for the right moment all lead down to this? The boiling point where everything fizzled into nothing but humiliating recognition.

A single tear fell down the drain, followed shortly by another and another. Soon, it was hard to pick apart the onslaught of tears from the water soaking your hair and rolling down your face. Behind your closed eyes, a movie montage of scattered memories began to roll. You and Emily nestled close together on your couch in the thralls of heated banter. You and Emily patching each other up, reprimanding foolish decisions with teasing remarks and antiseptic solution. You and Emily nestled in your own corner of the jet, dozing off to the drone of Spencer’s ramblings.

When you stepped out of the shower, the mirror painted a sore sight. Reflected in front of you were your puffy eyes, blotchy skin and one glum frown. You could chalk the redness to your face and the swell around your eyes to the sweltering shower. Your sorrowful expression, however, you’d have to fix.

Sighing, you brushed your teeth and splashed some icy water over your face, taking a deep inhale and deeper exhale before exiting the safe haven of the bathroom.

Emily stood outside, waiting.

“Somethings wrong.”

“With the case?” you asked, brushing past her to shove your clothes through the open zipper of your bag.

She followed you to the edge of the bed, hovering at your side with a pointed stare. “No.”

“There’s a lot of things wrong,” you huffed, dumping your black duffel on the floor with a thud. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Something’s wrong with you.”

You stood motionless for a brief second, letting the words register. “Excuse me?” you gaped, swivelling your body to glare at Emily.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it’s not.”

“No, no,” you seethed. “Please, go on. Tell me what’s so wrong with me. Spare no detail. I want specifics.”

“You know what?” Emily shook her head, her humourless smile striking a skittish nerve in you. “I’m going to freshen up. By the time I finish, maybe you’ll have matured and learned to use your big girl words.” And with that, she grabbed her bag and towel, shooting you a disappointed scowl as she slammed and locked the bathroom door.

When she did return, you were in the midst of trying to get comfortable. Sensing by your lack of eye contact, you were no more ready to hash things out than you were before Emily drew in a long breath, flicked the lights off and circled the bed, settling in beside you.

Rest didn’t come easy, or at all. It was impossible to stay in one spot. The smell of Emily’s shampoo and body wash made it impossible to ignore her presence, and on top of that, every time you shut your eyes, an echo of your argument haunted you.

“Are you going to toss and turn all night?” Emily groaned.

In a flurry of movement, the brunette flipped over, facing you head-on as her hands gripped your hips to hold you still.

“I can’t sleep,” you bit out, trying to wriggle out of her hold. When that didn’t work, you brought your hands to her chest and applied light pressure. Emily’s grip tightened.

“I gathered that much.” As if holding you hostage wasn’t enough, Emily tugged your body closer, intent on turning this nightmare into a living hell. “What would help is talking to me about what’s got you so pent up instead of sulking and flailing about like a toddler mid-tantrum.”

“You suck.”

“So you’re taking the toddler thing to heart then.” Amusement danced in her eyes, and a flicker of a smile ghosted across her lips.

“Why did sharing a room with me bother you so much?” you mumbled.

Emily almost looked shocked. Disbelief cut a crease in the space between her brows. “It didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to wriggle out of Emily’s grasp, again failing.

“I thought it bothered you, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. That’s why I was trying to sort out another room,” Emily explained, her smile never faltering as she brought her fingers up to your chin, thumb brushing the underside of your lip.

“Oh.”

“Sweetheart,” she drawled, her timbre low and husky, “all I’ve wanted these last few months was a chance to have you alone in bed.”

Oh.

The room was engulfed in silence. Slowly, everything became a blurred backdrop as your sole focus remained on Emily. Behind her, the moon shone through the window, bathing her hair in a soft silvery glow. It was loosely tied into a low ponytail and a shade darker than usual, the dampness of the shower still clinging to the thickest locks. Despite her face being skulked in shadows, offering you only the slightest glimpse of chestnut eyes and ivory skin, you could see her clear as day, the contours of her face forever ingrained in your mind's eye.

Months of pent-up tension crackled low in the suspended space between your bodies. You tried to move your tense muscles, coaxing them into seeing this was the time for action. They remained frozen.

In the end, it was Emily who made the first move.

You felt her draw closer, holding your breath for fear that one more pull of oxygen might break you out of this dreamlike scenario.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered before the press of her lips engulfed all your senses.

As it turned out, Emily’s shameless brags regarding her bedside manner were not untrue. In the small pocket of time it took her to undress you both, she’d managed to turn you into a wry mess of ardent need. She teased and teased till you forced your pride aside and begged her to slot her fingers inside you. To which she did without question.

Moving her fingers in and out, Emily brushed her thumb against the thousands of nerve endings, all condensed into one tiny button hidden at the apex of your sex. She worked your clit between her fingers, each drag up and down, sending a delicious thrill down your spine. Every thrust of her digits marked the spot of rough flesh burrowed within your pussy; expert precision ensuring it never remained untouched for too long.

Pleasure coursed hot through your veins, unyielding in its mission to draw you to your impending release. Mammoth waves of satisfaction rolled up and down your body, contorting limbs till your back arched and your chest pressed against Emily’s bare breasts. She didn’t stop when you moaned through the duration of your peak, pummeling her fingers into the convulsing grasp of your cunt till you were crying out and shaking from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” you sighed dreamily, the last sparks of your orgasm still very present in the tingling of your legs.

Emily settled on her back beside you, squeezing an arm under your waist and pulling you close. “Bet you’re glad I didn’t break the bank on that honeymoon suite now,” she smirked.

“You have no idea,” you chuckled.

Resting your head over her breastbone and listening to the steady drum of her heart, you let sleep lull your eyes shut.

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude @maybe-a-humanbean @taylorswiftsboyfriend @bossofcriminalminds @asphodelvamp @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @storiesofsvu @mrs-prentiss @romanoffsho @paulilvsremus @waitaminutebaby @jarexuslover @lesbodietcoke @homo-oddity @milfsincrime @noahrex @pnsteblnme @girloversstuff @ratsnestinmyhair @propertyofemilyprentiss @chloeelou02x @gayestswiftie @waitaminuteashh @chestnutninny @evelinearmani @luv-unknwn @lesbodietcoke @schemmentisbaby @xenafan25 @frickinsleepdeprived @greyslover3004 @snowdrop1026 | click here to be added to my taglist

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss x y/n #lgbt #Emily Prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #cm

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azulpitlane · 11 months ago

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boss' daughter I ln4

pairing: lando norris x brown!daughter reader summary: lando is down bad for zak brown's daughter but shes a little hard to get notes: I know this isn't pt 3 of my other mini series BUT i thought of this idea and had to do it immediately hehe, I really like this one masterlist

y/nbrown

liked by landonorris, zbrownceo and 21,492 others

y/nbrown nyc living

view all comments

user i wanna see her at races shes so cute😭🫶

y/nbrown vegas! ill be there🤭 liked by landonorris

user help why's lando in his boss' daughter's likes

landonorris 🤩

user norizzzzz user is this him shooting his shot AHAHHA user NO LANDO SHES MINE

user IT GIRL

user landooo👀

y/bff/n pretty girl

y/nbrown love u babes

posted september 2023

y/nbrown

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 19,384 others

y/nbrown college student by day, dj by night😝

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y/bff/n ur so unserious babe

y/nbrown i ate, the people loved me

landonorris as a retired dj maybe you can give me some inspiration to start again

user LANDO??? user he's crushing so hard OMFFFF user zak brown reading this: 🤨🤨

zbrownceo dont have too much fun!

y/nbrown 🫣 user such a dad reply lol

user y/n brown slaying once again

user so excited to see you back in the paddock soon🫶 liked by y/nbrown

danielricciardo you're perfect for him

y/nbrown who???

posted october 2023

y/nbrown

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 30,341 others

y/nbrown vegas babyyy

tagged zbrownceo, danielricciardo, y/bff/n

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user gorgeous girl

danielricciardo finally reunited with my favorite brown

y/nbrown was too busy girlbossing sorry danielricciardo what a shame, there's someone who's been waiting to meet you... y/nbrown hm, i didn't meet anyone new🤷‍♀️ danielricciardo next race then user is daniel hinting that lando didn't meet his crush sjsjkskks user wait he hasn't EVEN MET HER?!?! user im guessing not, shes been pictured with other drivers but never lando

user here for landos comments

landonorris maybe you should come to a race where I'm not crashing😅

user norizz strikes again user its the fact that she never even replies and he's still trying HAHA user hes fr out here risking his seat for her just not to respond back

mclaren 🧡

user shes finally back in the paddock!!!

user im surprised she doesn't go to more gp's, her dad's literally the ceo of mclaren😭 user i think she's mentioned shes very busy with uni so her schedule usually never aligns with the races

posted november 2023

y/nbrown abu dhabi, UAE

liked by landonorris, zbrownceo and 25,482 others

y/nbrown escaping cold new york weather

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user OMG shes gonna be at the gp again this weekend!!

user landos got one more chance to shoot his shot before the season ends😭

landonorris hope to see you at the paddock!

danielricciardo thanks for letting me borrow that $10 mil bro I owe you🤝 maxverstappen1 thanks for saving my cats out of that burning building, you're a true hero🤝 alex_albon thanks for paying off my whole family's debt mate🤝 carlossainz55 thanks for gifting me that mclaren, i love it mate🤝

user ALL THE DRIVERS IN HER COMMENTS IMDEAD

user his rizz was so bad they had to step in omg. user and she still hasn't acknowledged lando AHAH user a true girlboss, I love her

user i need to know what zak brown thinks off all of this😭

user next season of dts gonna be craZy

user everybodys focused on the comments and not at the fact that these lyrics sound a little sus...

posted november 2023

landonorris posted a story

dannyyyy🤠 y/n wyaaa im in the mclaren garage rn

y/n aren't you suppose to be in umm idk YOUR OWN GARAGE?

dannyyyy🤠 yeah but I need to do something real quick so come

y/n does this have anything to do with lando?

dannyyyy🤠 maybe...

y/n im sorry but he's exactly why im not in the garage rn

dannyyyy🤠 WHAT WHY pls dont tell me I hyped him up just for you not be interested...

y/n im not NOT interested but he's my dad's driver danny this can get messy so fast and what if he doesn't approve

dannyyyy🤠 oh you americans and your dramatics hes already talked to your dad dummy

y/n wait really?

dannyyyy🤠 you really think he would PUBLICLY hit on his boss' daughter without asking first?

y/n idk never really thought about it

dannyyyy🤠 JUST COME DOWN HERE YOU MUPPET

landonorris

liked by y/nbrown, danielricciardo and 830,391 others

landonorris didn't win the race, but i won her heart

tagged y/nbrown

view all comments

user FINALLY

y/nbrown cheeseball liked by landonorris

user HE ACTUALLY GOT HER

danielricciardo youre welcome

y/nbrown you pushed me in front of him then ran away...not the best wingman danielricciardo its not like landos rizz was gonna get you together🤷‍♂️ y/nbrown true landonorris hey! I wasn't that bad... y/nbrown whatever helps you sleep at night hun!

user y/n blink twice if you need help

y/nbrown blink blink landonorris 😔

user obsessed with y/n bullying lando in the comments

user I know I love them already

zbrownceo better take good care of her lando

landonorris sir yes sir🫡

user we can no longer make norizz jokes. sigh.

notes: what did y'all think of this one? I loved making it🤸‍♀️

#lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris imagines

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eddiernunson · 1 year ago

Text

The Splash of Rain on the Roof | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, always there for me, bestie.

Also to @bebe07011 for reading everything before I post and giving me feed back. Love ya.

Summary: you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

Warnings: (idiots) best friends to lovers, dork!reader, virgin!eddie and virgin!reader (its cute, ok), kinda slow, no protection, creampie, praise/degradation, minor miscommunication trope, sleepy 5am writing, first I love yous

I have another one shot planned, it's about 3/4 done.

Word count: 11k

As any first day at Hawkins High in the middle of the semester goes, you had a fairly decent one. A cheerleader spotted you in her class and dragged you over to her table, a parade of jocks and cheerleaders surrounding it. You wondered if their insistence was genuine, and you let yourself believe it. Until their true colours were shown through a nasty gossip session.

For the most part, they all had kind things to say about one another. They encouraged each other and asked how your day was so far. Did it count as false advertising if fake friends show their real colours? If anything, you were grateful they were so quick about it. You barely had a chance to memorize their names when one of them broke out in an overdramatic bellow in disgust. Your interest piqued, nearly drowning in their dull conversations, no matter how polite.

You followed the curly haired boys’ line of sight across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing louder than the rest of the school. They looked carefree and like they were enjoying themselves. You envied them. Your eyes switched back to your new supposed friends, afraid of what exactly was so worthy of their collective disgust.

Their immediate round of insults to the harmless group of boys left the worst taste in your mouth. After the three or four people had their say, you got up without another word.

“Wait! Where you going?” Called the girl who escorted you to the table.

“Anywhere but here.” You answered, having understood immediately what kind of group of people she associated herself with.

She had plenty more to say, but you didn’t hear another word. You were far too busy beelining for the gorgeous man who was at the head of said table. The moment you looked over to them, your vision tunneled. The complaints voiced by the table of Preps seemed to be an extension of their “freakiness”, or so they called it, which you deduced was just another word for “dork��.

Little did they know, you are also a dork.

So, the table you had just ditched watched in horror as you walked straight to the table and immediately sat down with them.

Turns out the gorgeous man was as kind as he was good-looking.

It’s been over a year since you started at Hawkins, over a year of friendship with Eddie Munson, said gorgeous man. What’s even worse, he’s better than you had expected him to be. As you settle into the Hellfire Club, adding your own adventurous characters, and contributing to inside jokes, you and Eddie end up closer than you had ever expected.

Unfortunate news is, he has you so far in the friend zone, you’re starting to wonder if even he knows you’re a girl. (With fantastic tits, which he never seems to even look at.)

You’ve spent plenty of nights in a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized top with no bra as you listen to music and smoke a joint with him, hoping over and over that he would just make a move because lord knows you weren’t gonna do it.

The pressure of his hand when it rests on your lower back, the way he curls your hair behind your ear, his breath down your neck when he hugs you, it all sets your skin on fire.

On one night you were terribly upset at your mom after having a fight with her, getting in your car to take the eight-minute drive to his house. You had arrived at his trailer uninvited plenty of times before, Eddie encouraged it once he realized the fights were a regular thing. Only this time, he wasn’t in the living-room watching a scary movie, or in his bedroom listening to records or making a new campaign.

He was in the shower.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He’s had plenty of showers while you were over. He’d be stupidly apologetic about it, but if you were to be honest with him, the smell of the body wash that lingered on him was too good to pass up. You grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from his fridge and a beer for him, figuring you’d meet him when he struts out in that low hanging towel. On your way to Eddie’s room, a noise like music hit your ears and the slick beer almost fell out of your hand.

“Uh, uh, oh shit…fuck—” You heard him, loud and clear, a noise you only imagined late at night in your own bedroom. You stood there frozen in the hallway, listening as he fucked his own fist. You listened as his breaths got faster, his whining higher pitched. But no sound could match the divine noise Eddie made as he finished. Your breath hitched then, drool pooling on your tongue as you pictured sticky white ropes all over the shower.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your panties drenched just from listening to him. You wondered what would’ve happened if your hands were empty. When the shower turned off, your gut swooped, butterflies kicking in as you raced to look casual on his bed. You didn’t have much time to prepare, turning on some music and picking up one of his magazines. Shit, dirty magazine. You quickly adjusted to the next one over, featuring a Metal band on the cover.

As Eddie entered his room, you were laying on the bed looking casual as you could, hoping he didn’t pick up on your heavy breathing. If he did, he didn’t indicate it. As much as you tried, your breathing didn’t slow, your eyes zoned in on the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, lingering on his treasure trail. He greeted you absentmindedly, picking up a pair of sweats.

That night, you could do nothing but stammer through your sentences, chalking it up to stress from the fight with your mom. He offered you to sleep over, a normal habit you’ve developed, but the itch to slip your fingers down your pants was too much. If you had to face your mom just to get it figured out, so be it.

A switch flipped in you that day, it went from being a schoolgirl crush into a want, no, a need for him.

God, you wish he’d just get a clue…or that’d you get the nerve to make a move.

Something better than this torture.

After the third pat on his hand, Eddie finally looked up, wondering why Josh can’t take the hint. “What, what?” He asked, already annoyed at his day as it was. Fucking history teacher…

“New girl.” Josh gestured towards the jock/cheerleader table.

Eddie blinked, questioning why the hell he should be interested in this. The insistence on not just Josh’s face, but the rest of the group convinced Eddie, switching his glance over to the table. You stuck out like a sore thumb, not exactly dressed in their prep uniform. From this single glance, he could tell you were uncomfortable. In any case, neither were most cheerleaders on their first days. Oh well, he figured you would assimilate soon enough. Shame, with how pretty you were.

Soon enough, Eddie’s mood lightened up, amused by the witty banter his friends were spitting back and forth. Something Gareth said ended up being ridiculously funny, a feat that he’s familiar with, and it breaks the entire group into loud laughter, something that obviously disrupts the cafeteria. Eddie didn’t care, and neither did any of the other members of Hellfire. If no one would give them any decency, why the hell would they owe anyone else any?

As always, the laughter invited even more scrutiny. Eddie knew the reaction of the table you sat at, firing off insults surrounding the word freak. If they could just get original content, that would be great, Eddie thought as he looked back down to his notebook of campaign notes. He was in the middle of deciding which book he might need to check out for reference when Josh tapped his hand again, far more aggressively.

“What?” He snapped, but caught wind of what was so urgent immediately.

There you were, walking as if you were strutting a runway to his table. He thought he must’ve had it confused for a second, but after assessing the reaction of your previous table, it couldn’t have been less wrong. Eddie leaned over to the table to his friends, teeth gritted. “Be normal.”

After about ten minutes of awkward conversation, as a last resort you had asked what Eddie was working on. “Oh, the campaign for DnD.”

“Wait, you play DnD?” You asked.

Eddie wasn’t sure if this question was negative or positive. “Yeah, we’re a Dungeons and Dragons club.” Gareth answered for him.

“Oh sweet!” The answer stunned all of them. “Can I join?”

“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” Josh asked incredulously.

“Yeah, my dad taught me.” You replied.

“Drama room, Friday night at 7. Don’t be late.” Eddie said, finally making eye contact with you.

He regretted it from the moment he did. The beauty he saw from afar was only intensified by a hundred. You looked at the table with intrigue, much more interest than you ever showed at the jocks table. Eddie couldn’t believe how wrong he was to assume you would just assimilate with them. You were too good for them.

Wait, you were too good for his club as well, what the hell were you doing there?

If Eddie had any current quarrels with the universe, it was that you just kept getting better and better as he got to know you. He was prepared for your level one basic dwarf when you showed up with a level 59 Warlock. You kicked his boss’s ass, carrying the weight of all your co-adventurers.

From there, Eddie swore he must’ve gotten hit in the head somehow, because life just isn’t good for him, never has been. But with you, life is worth tolerating. From the start, he had fallen for you, and he still would have even if you did only have a level one dwarf.

As luck would have it, you would never turn down an offer to hang out with him. The first time he offered, butterflies sat in his gut until he walked up to your locker and offered for you to watch a movie at his house with him. You accepted graciously, asking if he minded you’d watch horror. Internally, Eddie fell to his knees. Externally, he nodded, keeping his eyes on what he called the prettiest damn eyes he’s ever seen.

He felt lucky you accepted his displays of affection with him, leaning heavily into his hugs and letting his legs intertwine with yours. His hair would stand up, your skin setting his on fire.

Lately, though, he could swear something is out to get him. As you started getting more comfortable being at his house so often, you started wearing smaller clothing. First, it started off with a pair of sweats and a messy bun. That tore Eddie farther apart than it should have. It turned into braless shirts and tiny shorts, and Eddie stared at the curve of your ass, usually half hard as you laid on his bed.

The first night he ran to the bathroom to jerk off to the outline of your nipple, he felt like shit, yet he wanted nothing more to mouth at it, to mark it his.

Eddie is so sure you’re innocent of it all, unaware of his lust and feelings for you. It started as feelings, but the lust has started to take over to the point where Eddie has to jerk off before you get there. He knows you’re going to bend over too much as you “help” him with making meals. As of late, the tiny pair of shorts barely conceals the outline of your cunt, something that tugs what could only be described as a whimper out of him, has been becoming all too much.

Eddie realizes he’s gonna have to ask you out.

After yet another unsuccessful Saturday night over at Eddie’s house– well, successful in terms of getting you out of your house but unsuccessful in the sense that Eddie just doesn’t seem to see you as a fucking girl– you trade your books to prepare for another boring lecture, watching across the hall as Gareth and Eddie seem to be in humorous conversation, judging on the laughter alone.

Eddie is nodding, appearing to agree exuberantly with what Gareth is saying to him. Might as well kill some time before class starts. You walk over, backpack on one shoulder as the weight from all of your books bounces off the back of one of your thighs. Just as you’re about to interrupt their conversation, Eddie makes eye contact with you. As a reflex, you break into a smile at his dimples. However, Eddie says one last thing to Gareth before walking away from their conversation.

You try not to take it personal. There are several jokes in Hellfire you have learned a long time ago to not take personally. However, this felt personal. Eddie doesn’t usually take part in the jokes at your expense. The boys give you enough crap for him anyways, and he gives them crap, and you give Eddie crap. It’s a wonderful circle of crap, really.

As soon as you approach Gareth, now alone, he gives you a half smile, clearly trying to dissipate from the awkward situation. “Hey,” Gareth greets you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto his locker to seem “casual.”

“What was that about?” You get straight to the point, nodding towards where Eddie had just walked away.

Gareth stutters through his words, adjusting his arms between crossed and placing his hand on his locker. Oh, Gareth, ever so graceful. “I-I-He-he-he just-uh—”

“Gareth!” You interrupt him, knowing he could continue his stammering for a while unless you stop it. “Just tell me!” You shove his shoulder, annoyed already. What reason could Eddie possibly have for taking off like that?

“We were just talking about the girl he likes, is all.” Gareth admits sheepishly, his eyes flicking everywhere but you.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling crestfallen. A girl? Eddie likes a girl? And hasn’t even had the audacity to tell you about it? Were you not his best friend? Maybe he’s your best friend, but you’re not his. You shake off that annoying voice of doubt in your head, knowing on some level it’s irrational. Then why didn’t he tell me anything? “Oh, he’s…never even mentioned a girl around me…”

Gareth knows exactly why you’re crestfallen, your crush on Eddie not the most exact unknown fact in your group of friends. “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it a whole lot…” Gareth trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Eddie doesn’t talk about his crush on you. He barely mentions it. The only reason anyone in Hellfire knows anything…is because they have eyes.

“Oh. Alright.” You have to get out of this conversation before the tears that crept up behind your eyes make an appearance. “I’ll see you at lunch?” You don’t even wait for a response, already turned around towards a bathroom to get your shit together.

Gareth feels guilty as shit when he sees the way you shuffle off to the bathroom, your sniffles louder than you even realize. In fact, Eddie was just telling Gareth he was finally gaining the courage to ask you out. Unfortunately, your brain has already eliminated this idea altogether.

Eddie sits in his usual spot for the lunch period, a foot parked on the edge of the table as he leans back with his arms crossed, observing his friends arguing yet again. Doesn’t really matter what they’re arguing about, never really does. They could be arguing about which album of a certain artist is better, which class of character is better to play, or even which teacher sucks the most in the school.

They’re all pointless, and Eddie always has a final say in who wins the argument. Being the leader has its perks.

Even as he seems casual, he checks his watch occasionally because you’re still not there yet. He looks forward to your presence at the table, to the way you indulge in their idiotic fights, if only for a second. It never fails to amuse him. Usually, as of late, you’ve been picking a side just to piss off Mike, and he still hasn’t seemed to catch on yet.

Right now, Dustin and Mike are arguing over the stupidest thing yet, something not even worth mentioning. Lucas is trying to give his input that this isn’t worth fighting over, but they’re talking over him. Eddie wonders how long he’s going to let them hash it out for.

Gareth rolls his eyes as he watches Eddie’s face lights up as you finally make your way across the cafeteria to the table. You greet the entire table, letting your bag fall to the floor as you rest your chin on your hand.

Dustin immediately attempts to instigate you into the fight. “Hey, can you tell Mike that—”

“No offense, Dustin, but I really don’t care.” You interrupt him, sounding tired. The whole table but Eddie laughs at your answer.

This allows the table to segue into a different conversation, something that everyone can care about. Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in. “Are you not hungry?” He asks lowly, noting the lack of cafeteria tray you have today.

You can barely look him in those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart dropped to your gut the moment you heard he likes someone else. “Not really. Lost my appetite.”

His brows furrow, watching you avoid his eyes and sink into yourself. This was so unlike you. Usually, you’re much surer of yourself, an aura of confidence even he finds himself envious of at times. “Are you okay?” He asks again.

You shrug your shoulders, not committing to a yes or no answer. You finally lay your eyes on him, and he’s staring past you across the cafeteria, you follow his eyeline…directly to the cheerleader’s table. A realization hits you and somehow your heart drops even lower.

He likes a fucking cheerleader.

You should’ve known his type would be a girl who jumps up and down in a tiny skirt. Maybe you should’ve joined the cheer squad then. Then at least you would’ve had a damn chance.

Somehow, you don’t even have the appetite to sit next to him anymore. “Listen, I have to ask for help in my chemistry class, it’s kicking my ass. Um…”

Eddie is about to protest but you’ve already picked up your bag and started jogging out the large door of the cafeteria. In fact, you missed the rest of the school day to fucking wallow in this stupid heartache. Your mom doesn’t pay enough attention to the school's phone calls to begin with.

As you leave the cafeteria, Eddie gives a questioning look to his fellow Hellfire mates. Hell, if they know. Gareth knows, but they’ve made a collective agreement not to meddle, as much as it pained Dustin. Eddie was just gearing up the confidence to ask if you’d want to hang out that weekend, which is where he was planning on making his move for the first time. He didn't know what was upsetting you, but he figured it was something to do with your homelife, as it usually does.

However, he couldn’t have seen the next week coming.

As Eddie goes through the motions of barely making attendance and handing in assignments with maybe a paragraph of some bullshit he spewed, he usually has your pretty face to look forward to. In his second period, his leg bounces as he waits for you to sit next to him in your usual seat so he can have an opportunity to ask the damn question he’s been meaning to. He's in class on time for once, just to watch your pretty face as you walk to the back corner to sit with him. One benefit of repeating senior year is that he gets to have class with you now. If you could only see his face as it fell as you walked into the classroom and took the immediate seat right by the front door.

After an hour of over thinking, Eddie finally convinces himself you simply just weren’t in the mood for conversation. The way you avoid the Hellfire table when you walk into the cafeteria that day seems to prove that theory right. Until over the following week he sees you having conversations with other members of Hellfire. Alright, that hurts.

One day, he calls your name as you’re at your locker, and he catches your eye contact before you run towards the front door.

What the hell did he do wrong?

In your 7th or 8th day of narrowly avoiding Eddie, you end up having to walk home in a light drizzle. Usually you have your car, but your mom insisted on needing it for the day. On the occasion that she needed the car, usually you would grab a ride from Eddie. Right now, that just wasn’t an option.

You start to feel bad for the first time since your avoidance started. You saw how Eddie’s face fell every time you made eye contact and walked the other way. No matter how much you’ve wanted to talk to him, you just can't let your feelings go.

You just need distance. If you give yourself enough time, the idea of having to leave him so he can have date-night with another girl won’t send you into a mental spiral. If you give yourself enough time, you could stand the idea of listening to him gush about her. As of right now, there’s no possible way any of that sounds doable to you.

As you got up this morning, the weather was bright and sunny, warm on your skin. You wore a layered skirt and a tank top. Unfortunately, the rain was picking up slowly, and you’re sure it's going to be pouring by the time you get home, still another mile or two away.

You walk on the sidewalk, arms crossed over one another to prevent from shivering as much as you can, narrowly avoiding the splashing from tires as cars pass by. While the rain picks up, your ears barely pick up on a vehicle slowing down right by you.

“Get in!” You hear a voice, recognizing it off the bat.

You look up to face him, nice and dry in his van that he has pulled over right next to you. You can barely see him through the rain. You shake your head, continuing your walk home.

“Sweetheart, get in! You’re gonna get sick! It’s starting to thunder!” Eddie argues, driving slowly as you continue to walk.

“No, I’m fine!” You answer, your chattering teeth giving away your iron clad position.

“Oh, for fucks—” You think Eddie has given up, your eyes on the ground as you trudge forward, until you see his scuffed-up shoes in your direct eyeline. His firm hands land on the soft flesh of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey. What the fuck did I do?”

Your eyes look up to him in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for the last week and a half!” He yells, mostly because the rain has picked up so goddamn much.

“I-I just need space.” You tell him, attempting to get out of his hold.

“Wait, what? Why?” Eddie asks. Your eyes blink rapidly as you peer up at him, his curly hair already soaked from the rain. “What do you mean, you need space?”

You gulp out of both tears and frustration. “I just need space, Eddie! I need some time… to get used to it.”

You might as well have been speaking in tongues. “Get used to what? What the hell are you talking about?”

The words bubble up in your thoughts and through your throat before you can stop them. “You made it extremely clear that you don’t see me as anything other than a friend, and now you have a crush on some girl!”

Eddie couldn’t register a single word you were saying. It made no sense to him. “What?”

“I have made a complete fool out of myself! I basically put myself on display just for you to look at some girl shaking her ass in a cheerleader uniform.” You chuckle, wiping some rain from your face as it drips cold down your cheeks. “Maybe I should’ve joined the squad, then I would’ve stood a chance.”

“Wait, wait.” Eddie is having trouble processing any of this. “Can you please go from the start, sweetheart?”

“Gareth told me you like someone.” You admit, your voice faltering. “After sending signals for God knows how long, I guess I finally realize I’ve been making a fool out of myself with you.” You sigh, giving him the saddest look he's ever seen from you. “I just need some time to get over you.”

The information finally all seems to add up for Eddie. “Wait, sweetheart, back up.” Eddie says a soft smile landing on his face as he understands. “You-you like me?”

“Uh, yeah?” You answer, the answer obvious.

“And you think I like some cheerleader?” Eddie asks, pulling you closer to him.

God, this is torture. “I mean, you do, don’t you?”

He laughs, loud and…joyful. “God, no.” He says, and you nearly melt at the half smirk now settled on his face.

It's your turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“The girl I like is you, you dumbass.”

Suddenly your heart is in your ears, and you can’t think passed that smile on his face. The glint in his eyes is new, the look in his eye driving you stupidly crazy. “Wait, Ed, don’t fuck with me here.”

The hands resting on your shoulders float up to the shine of your cheeks, framing your face. Rain is dripping off his bangs and he’s nearly struggling through it but doesn’t seem to care. Truth is, he does not. All he can see is the shine of your lips from the rain. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to kiss those lips since the moment I saw you.”

Your breath hitches, staring at those lips you’ve stared at so many times. “Then what's stopping you?”

Your lips meet in the middle, rain colliding with one side of your face as you tilt your head. He takes the lead right away, your skin on fire as you are barely able to believe that this is real, and that he’s really kissing you. Eddie nibbles on your bottom lip, you let out a small whimper in response. Your tongue eagerly reaches out to meet his, the collision feeling like velvet. Eddie’s hand spreads out on your face, his limber fingers something you’ve fantasized about several times.

You continue to make out in the rain, one of your hands finding their way in his soaked hair. One hand is placed on the small on your back, tugging your body right up against his. Another whimper escapes your mouth, Eddie opening his mouth and breathing heavily into yours in a knee-jerk reaction.

Eddie separates from you, placing his forehead against yours. “You wanna get in now?” A half chuckle passes his lips at the sheer stupidity of this major miscommunication.

“Please.”

Eddie opens the back door to his van, already a blanket and pillow on the floor thanks to his habits in his free time. As you climb in, you squeeze the water from your hair, suddenly realizing you’re actually quite cold. Eddie observes your shivering. “Cold, baby?”

“Freezing.” You admit, grabbing a blanket folded in the corner. He helps you get wrapped up, rubbing your arms quickly. “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, though.” Another admission comes out just as easily.

“You sure?” He asks, walking on his knees to meet you.

“Just kiss me.” You tell him grabbing him by the jacket.

He chuckles as he meets your lips, his face dipping down to meet yours again. You fall backwards to lie down, tugging on his jacket so he lands on you. He giggles as he lands on his forearm right next to your head, all teeth against your lips as he smiles into you. Your legs curl up around his torso, tugging him impossibly closer.

“You have no—” He sighs, kissing you in intervals. “…No idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss these pretty lips of yours.”

Your heart flutters as you giggle into the kiss, the compliments he showers you in too much to believe. “Ed, I-I want you to touch me…” You sigh, the blanket slowly falling off your body.

“Uh, don’t know if you know this, but I…I’ve never…” Eddie stutters, sounding nervous.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “It…it’s okay, Eddie.” Your hands entangle into the wet curls on his head. “Neither have I.”

Eddie lets out an audible gulp from the simple implications. “I think we should get off the main road before we start getting too into it, baby.”

“Oh, ok.” You tell him, butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

He sits back up, a noticeable tent in his pants making you feel flustered. You thought you felt something against your thigh, but mentally, you couldn’t fathom that he was hard for you. He extends his hand out for you, you accept it gratefully as he helps you scoot back out of the back. The two of you scurry to your prospective seats, the rain now coming down so fast your hair is soaked from the mere seconds it took you to get there.

Eddie pushes his wet mop of a head of hair to the side as he laughs with you at the scenario you currently find yourselves in. As he starts the van, he gives you a cocky eyebrow raise, the heat from the air vents surprising you in a blast. His heavy foot placed on the gas pedal surprises you, your head swinging backwards at the force.

Without asking, you know exactly where Eddie is headed. The drive takes longer than average, your nerves racking sky high as his strong hand holds yours absentmindedly.

The rain continues its assault from the sky, a flash of lighting reflecting in the water as you pull up to the edge of Lovers’ Lake. As Eddie brakes, your head falls back onto the fabric covered headrest, eyes closing as you place his hand in yours in your lap. The heat of your arousal is radiating off you, your thumb absentmindedly smoothing over Eddie’s.

There’s nothing you’ve wanted more than to be sweaty with him on top of you, but now that it’s about to happen, the fact is nearly overwhelming. As you soak in the sound of the rain on the roof of the van, Eddie presses his hand where you have it on your upper thigh, putting pressure on it. An involuntary whimper escapes your throat, and as your lungs fill up with air Eddie leans in across the gap of the seats, a chuckle leaving those sweet lips as he nuzzles into your neck.

A sigh leaves your lips as you can feel his teeth start to nibble lightly, relaxing into it. He places his other arm over you, coming up to rub your torso as his tongue delicately laps along your jugular. “Ed…can we lie down?” You ask, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“You wanna climb, or you wanna get out?” On cue, a flash of lightning hits right on the lake. “Climb?”

“Climb.” You agree, giving him your sweetest smile.

“Ladies first?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the back.

You awkwardly place your knee on the middle console your hands having a rough landing on the blanket covered floor of the van as you start to crawl forward. Behind you, Eddie appreciates the view, how your pink, thin panties beautifully showcase the outline of your cunt, still soaked from the rain. Well the rain and your arousal, of course.

You turn around, one leg bent as you wait for Eddie to climb over. His hand moves to turn on the overhead light, then he slowly crawls his way to you, the look in his darkened eyes sending a thrill up your spine. By the time his body lines up with yours, you’re giggling out of nervousness, wondering where this energy came from.

He hovers over you, the wide smile on his face as he switches between your eyes sending your nerves up into the atmosphere. Your legs open for him, accepting him as he lays on top of you. His hair starts to fall over your face as he leans in, his mouth deliciously open as he kisses you some more.

“Ed.” You mumble, moving your hands to where they seem to favour, the collar of his leather jacket. “Take this off.”

He hums as he follows your order, sliding the jacket off his shoulders as he continues to kiss you. Well, his multi-tasking is a bit jagged, but you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You admire his newly exposed arms sitting in his wet muscle shirt. He leans down to continue lapping at your neck again, adding more teeth to turn your neck purple, having stared at this part when you stretch out a kink or two from your neck.

You’re so turned on; you can feel it in your bones. “Eddie,” you whimper out, eyes closed as you give in to the way his tongue feels electric. “I need you to touch me, please.” You beg him, your pussy begging you for attention.

“Of course, baby,” Eddie gulps, and knowing him, you could hear his nerves.

“Hey,” you say, reaching out to hold his face. “I can help you, just reach out to touch me and I’ll tell you how to do it. I just need your fucking fingers on me, please.”

Eddie leans in, kissing gently along your jawline. “I know, maybe I just wanted to hear you beg.”

You roll your eyes, calling him out on his bluff. “Mmhmm. Just fucking touch me, Munson.”

Eddie’s hesitancy seemed to die right there, his unsteady fingers simply placed over the thin layer of your panties makes you gasp, just the light touch giving you some satisfaction. “You were saying?”

Eddie starts to lightly trace along the folds, noting how it dips right where your hole would be. Eddie can’t help but get harder as the heat from your pussy radiates. “Feels good…” you mutter, sighing lightly. “Just a little harder, please?”

“You want it harder, sweetheart?” He asks, you nod enthusiastically. “You sure?” You nod again, frustrated at his damn questions.

He puts pressure on his fingers, experimentally starting to circle them around. “Little higher, Ed.” You tell him as he just grazes your clit. He listens, moving his fingers a half of an inch higher and continuing. He moves his fingers just high enough, starting to circle perfectly on your clit. You moan out loud, letting out small gasps. “Right there, right there!”

“Oh my god.” Eddie mumbles to himself, watching your face crumple up as your legs fall more open. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan like this…fucking stunning.” Your moans grow louder, your thighs starting to tense. Eddie suddenly stops, and you whimper at the loss. You feel him start to move your panties aside. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, your head perks up, watching his face as he stares at your exposed pussy for the first time.

The heat in your pussy increases, tenfold, weeping just from his intense stare.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, mouth half open and his eyes don’t even blink. “Eddie?” You ask, starting to feel self-conscious.

“Wow…” he mutters, eyes finally locking with yours. “I knew your pussy would be pretty, I didn’t know it would be this ravishing.”

You gulp, feeling more wanted than you knew you ever could.

His fingers trace gently along your folds, just feeling your pussy. As he hears a whimper from you, a note of your impatience, he suddenly turns his hand upside down starting to touch with more pressure. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He whispers. “All…all this for me?”

You’re wet for him more than he knows, but your mouth can’t even communicate it, your brain having gone dumb from his touch alone.

He licks his lips, starting to rub at your folds purposely. “Look at this pretty little cunt, oh my god…wonder…” he doesn’t finish his thought, but when his long digit makes its way in you, you can deduce what he was thinking. He slides it in and out slowly, the length of his finger reaching much farther than yours ever have.

Your breathing gains speed and depth, adding another finger and fucking you slow, yet perfect. “Eddie.” You moan, your slick dripping down your ass and onto the blanket. Eddie moves his fingers faster, looking at your face for your response. “F-faster!”

Eddie lets out a huff of laughter you don’t hear, too caught up in the pleasure. “Jus’ gonna…” He leans in, and his tongue flat against your clit yanks the first genuine moan out of you, the pleasure all encompassing.

“Just like that! Please, Eddie, so close, please!” You beg him, the orgasm sneaking on you as it hurtles toward you, just around the corner.

He switches up, still new to this whole thing, but he makes up for it by gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs and starting to fuck his tongue into your weeping hole. His lips create a sort of suction around the length of your lips, and the heat that radiates into your thighs becomes too fucking much as your thighs close hard against his ears.

“Gonna…” it’s the only warning you can provide for him before your entire body tenses up, a primal moan leaving your lips. Eddie works you through your orgasm, holding your thighs held against his head and revelling in how you soak his lips. He’s pictured his nose against your pussy too many times to already be satisfied.

As you finally come down, Eddie is still fucking into you with his tongue, seemingly not giving up. You lift your head up, your thighs now loose as you peer at him. “Ed?” You ask, the sensitivity of your puffy lips causing your thighs to quiver a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing?”

His tongue leaves your cunt for only half a second. “’M not done yet.” It’s warbled, his hot breath right against you eliciting another whimper.

Your head falls hopelessly against the van floor, his thumb contacting your clit and tongue swirling against your walls, moaning into your pussy. As you’re still sensitive, the second orgasm starts brewing in your tummy quickly. “Eddie, it’s too much.” You say, attempting to squiggle your hips away from his relentless tongue. “Too-too much.”

“Mmm, ‘can do it.” He mumbles, doubling down on his pattern.

“Ed…Eddie!” You cum into his mouth, your torso involuntarily tensed as you raised, incoherent sounds leaving your lips as you wither beneath him.

As your thighs relax again, he licks a last few times, as if trying to collect all the slick covering your pussy. After one last time, he looks up to you, licking his lips as you recollect yourself. “Was that ok?” He asks, breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran a marathon.

You give him a look of disbelief, eyes furrowing as you shake your head. “Was…was that okay?” You repeat back to him in astonishment. “Eddie that was…I-I it was… I don’t know who taught you to do that, but it wasn’t me, Jesus!”

He crawls up to you, smile on his face gloriously cocky. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh!” You confirm, your voice indicating that you’re stating the obvious.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, mouth just hovering over yours.

“What a coincidence, been wanting you to do that for a while.” You smirk, switching your glance between his hypnotising eyes and his glossy pink lips. He finally leans in for a kiss, tongue reaching out to meet yours in a dance of straight up pleasure. “Ed…” You whine, bunching up the wet muscle shirt he’s wearing in your fists.

“Hmm?” He asks, slowly kissing you.

“I wanna help you.” You sheepishly admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Please?”

“Help?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance in the meaning of your request.

“I wanna suck your cock, please, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a laugh in incredulity. “Holy shit, please.” It’s damn near a whine, music to your ears.

You giggle in response, finally the shoe on the other foot as you get to now hear those moans as a result of what you do to him, and not through his bathroom door. Experimentally, you reach down, feeling at the tent you’ve felt brush against your thigh as you made out with him. At the mere brush of your hand on the outline of his cock, he moans, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

One leg bends, using it to push and get him onto his back. You sit up, straddling him as you assess his astonished expression. As soon as you sit up, however, you notice the twitch of his cock right under your pussy. Your breath stutters at it, not realizing your bodies would line up this well. As if your brain knows what to do before even you do, your hips start rutting against him, alluring a moan in sync from the two of you.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling in the back of his head. If you could, you’d take a picture of him.

You giggle, attempting some ounce of self-discipline as you start to crawl down his body, already missing the twitch of his dick against your bare pussy. If just his dick against you feels this good, you wonder how great he would feel inside you, and you almost run out of patience.

No. You want this power: to be on your knees as he moans for you. Show some fucking discipline.

Your hands fumble as you undo the button on his jeans and Eddie lifts his hips as you move them down his legs. You want to tease him over his thin boxers, but the anticipation is too much, the need of the weight of what appears to be his thick cock on your tongue too great. You tug down his boxers, his cock popping out deliciously.

The look of pure lust you saw on Eddie is essentially copy and pasted onto you, your eyes darkening as you take in his length for the first time.

“Uh, baby?” He asks, watching as you’re stuck in some sort of trance.

“So pretty.” You mumble to the pink head, precum already pearling at the slit. Your tongue darts out, wanting a taste of the salt dressing it. You sigh in satisfaction, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base. Tentatively, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.

“What a good mouth, oh my god.” He babbles, hands in his own hair in a haze.

If you could, you’d smile. Only knowing from a magazine with blowjob tips, you start to move your mouth up and down his length, barely able to take in half of it. Your mouth sucks harshly on him, moaning around him as slobber starts to gather at the base. As a way to get the spit off your hand, you rub it on to his cock almost in exact time as you continue sucking.

“Baby, baby, do that again.” He whines, his gasps audible. You follow his request immediately, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth. “Just like that, so good, thank-thank you.”

A sense of pride hits you, increasing your speed as his legs start to move aimlessly around under you. Your jaw starts to become sore, so you decide to experiment some more. You give one long lick from base to tip, chasing a vein that travels around his cock. At the skin around his base, you suck lightly, giggling as he lets out a deep moan. You recall one tip telling you not to neglect the balls, so you travel down to one, sucking on the ribbed skin empirically.

“Fuck—I—” Eddie stutters out between loud gasps of pleasure, eyes closed.

You lick under it, trying to get every inch of skin as your hand absentmindedly strokes him. Your tongue goes back for his now leakier tip, engulfing his cock to the furthest of the back of your throat you possibly can, your gag reflex choking on him.

“Choke on that fat cock, baby, fucking choke on it!”

His stern tone surprises you, yet still turns you on as you continue the choking, now on purpose. You slobber all over his cock, one hand travelling up to hold his hand.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close…” You double down on every action, his hand squeezing the life out of yours. “Gonna cum down your throat…fuck—”

Eddie lets out the greatest moan of all time, a salty thick substance shooting down your throat as you swallow it easily. You barely have a chance to taste it, too much coming too fast to keep track, attempting to swallow it all. His cock finally stops twitching in your mouth, and as your mouth leaves him, you leave a final sweet kiss on the bright red tip.

As you lift your head to assess him, you see the obvious way his chest breathes in and out, catching his breath. You bite your lip as his eyes stay closed, palm on his forehead as he recovers. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?” You ask, having never given head before.

“Uh, yeah!” He says as if he’s stating the obvious, falling back on the blanket. “Mere.” He sits back up, grabbing you at the shirt and putting his lips on yours. You moan into his mouth, panting happily as his tongue makes contact with yours. “Fuck, did you swallow?” He asks, fabric of your thin tank top lifted by his hand on your bare skin.

“Mmhmm!” You confirm, giggling as he lets out a sigh of contentment.

Eddie lifts your shirt off, the light-yellow fabric see through from the rain. He throws it across the van, moving you onto your back with his hand supporting the small of it. As he lies down alongside you, mouth slowly moving against yours and a hand trails along your skin, setting it on fire, yet goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. His hand reaches its destination, travelling under the wire of your bra and starting to play with your peaked nipple.

You whimper into his mouth as he plays with it, tugging on it and sending pleasure down your spine. Your hands leave from where they were stationed on his shoulders to your skirt, trying to move it down your hips. “No, no, let me.” Eddie laughs, his hand leaving your nipple and replacing your hands on your skirt.

He tugs both your skirt and panties down off your legs, moving down the length as he gets them off your feet. You giggle and take off your shoes with it, watching as Eddie finishes taking off his pants and shoes as well.

Eddie lands back between your legs, his eyes hungry, making you feel vulnerable. A single hand, ever ambitious, moves around your back to take your bra off. To your surprise, he takes it off single handedly, the bra snapping off your back as a cheshire grin of satisfaction makes its way onto Eddie's lips. Finally, you move your hands around his back to help him take off his muscle shirt, admiring as each tattoo is revealed, finally allowed to ogle him.

You bite your lip, admiring him in the low light of the van. Eddie falters for a second, gulping. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He admits sheepishly.

You giggle, smiling at him happily. “I don’t care about that, I just need you to fuck me, Ed.”

He smiles, leaning in for a sweet, lush kiss. “I…I have to tell you something.” He sighs, on all fours as he hovers over you.

Your stomach swoops nervously. “Um…okay.”

He lines himself up, the tip slight pressure against your hole. “Okay?”

You nod, now confused. Wasn’t he going to tell you someth-oh my god. He slowly enters you, the pain over taking the pleasure, but the feeling still phenomenal.

“So tight.” He grunts, arms still straight as he waits for you to adjust.

It starts to feel overwhelmingly better, Eddie pulsing inside you, you can feel every inch against your walls. “More.” You plead.

Eddie pushes in a bit more, a high whine leaving your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby, taking this big fat cock.”

“Cock feels…so good…” You sigh, eyes closing on their own accord. “Didn’t…didn’t you have something to say?”

He laughs, his cock twitching in tandem. “I do…”

“You’re inside me, and you’re still a tease?” You ask, humming as it turns to pleasure again. “More.”

Eddie pushes in a little bit more, licking his lips as he takes in your pleasure-stricken face. “A tease, eh?” He asks, wondering what you meant.

“Walking in with your chest still wet—” you whine, interrupting yourself, “the cut off sleeves you wear, mast-masturbating in the shower…more.”

“Just a little bit more baby.” You don’t know how he could be any deeper, you’re pretty sure he’s already at your cervix. “Wait…you heard me in the shower?”

You huff a breath of laughter, tightening around him. “Mmhmm. Sounded so fucking hot, I might’ve touched myself in your bed when I heard it.”

Eddie moves in a final time without your say-so, and you moan in surprise. “Sorry, baby, you just—you just took me by surprise. You touched yourself in my bed? When I was in the shower?”

“Only because I could hear you.” You admit, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer to you.

“You could hear me? I was so sure I was being quiet.” He admits, his breath hot against your skin as he lies directly against you.

“Not really.” You admit, biting your lip in embarrassment. “It was so fucking hot, Ed.”

Eddie sighs, peppering kisses against your skin. “Well, I was thinking of you and those thin pjs you wear, sweetheart, so I guess it was a mutual masturbation.”

“I wondered if that was working.” You admit, humour in your voice. Eddie shakes his head, everything suddenly making sense. He kisses you deeply, hips still stagnant as he allows you to get used to his girth.

“So, you had something you wanted to tell me, Eddie?” You ask, slowly caressing the side of his torso, lightly tracing the tattoos you come in contact with.

“Mmhm.” He hums, leaning down to kiss skin gently, any skin he could reach. “Thanks for remembering.”

You roll your eyes, starting to get antsy at his still hips. “Just tell me.”

“I’m telling you this, because it broke me to see your reaction after you thought I even liked someone else.” The heartache seems so far away now, especially since he’s currently balls deep inside you. “I don’t just like you, sweetheart.” He admits, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. “I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you, at least, I think…I don’t know. But I don’t want anyone else, never have, baby. I just. Want.” Unexpectedly, he lifts his lips, pulling a gasp. “You.” He bucks his hips once for emphasis, taking in the already fucked out look on your face as you take in everything he just gave you.

“Really?” You ask in a light whisper, breathing heavily. “You-you love me?”

“Mmhmm.” He affirms, his hips bucking out slowly yet again.

“I-I love you too, Ed.” You admit, your heart open and full, every part of you, full, as he slowly fucks into you.

The words take a minute to register, his hips stilling completely. It’s such a tease, the way his hips still after only mere seconds of starting their trek. You whimper as an answer, your hips lifting to silently request that he’d continue. “Ed?”

“Oh my god…” he mutters, slowly lapping his way down your neck. “I’m so crazy for you, baby, so fucking insane.”

“Can…you please move?” You request politely, legs tense at his hips as your cunt begs for more attention.

“Need this fat cock to fuck you good, don’t you, baby?” He manages out, voice with a hint of husk in it as he continues to kiss his way down your body. The dip of your collarbone, valley of your tits, biting at the areola, licking dirtily along the curve of your breast…as far as he could go without his cock leaving you. “Hmm? Just desperate for it, aren’t you?”

One side of you wants to ask him where he's come up with this, because it’s driving you absolutely wild. The other side doesn’t fucking care where he got it from, the pleasure from his delicate licks consuming you whole. At a loss for words, you nod your head.

He grunts as he bucks himself into you, this one harder than the last. “Oh? Can’t use your words, baby?”

You whine, feeling pathetic, and yet, ravishing in it. “I just want you to rail me, please, please, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He asks, turning his lips into your neck again, muttering against your throat. “How bad?”

“Enough to think about you” you huff, heat floating to your cheeks, hesitant in saying it. Could he just…keep moving? Please?

His teeth graze your ear, nipping at it. “Wanna finish that sentence, love?” Eddie asks, his voice making your thighs clench together around his hips.

“Eddie, I've thought about you everytime I fucked my pussy with my fingers. I’ve thought about you fucking me more times than I can count.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my fist praying one day it would be you…whimpering and whining for me.”

“Then turn me into a fucking mess, Ed. Please.”

Finally, his lips leave your throat and he looks at you, his grin manic as those adorable dimples finally give you that look you’ve been craving for what feels like eons at this point. His hips move into action, fucking you at a force that pulls feral grunts out of your mouth, sounds you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

“Baby, your pussy is so tight, just pulling me in.” He grunts, one hand curling its way into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

“Eddie, your cock feels so fucking good. Fucking—keep going—oh my god.”

Eddie is torn between moaning, grunting, and thoughts that are never finished. His hand, nimble and huge, trails up and down your torso, your legs, touching every inch he can. Finally, two of his fingers make their way to your clit, rubbing it with fervour. Your pussy clenches around his length as he continually bucks into you, the mix of sensations too much, and yet, everything you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Eddie, can you please do something for me?” You ask, reaching out to hold his face with both hands and giving him a sweet kiss.

He sighs into your kiss, tongue connecting with yours, and you feel dizzy and high in pleasure. “Anything, angel.”

“Want you to call me a slut.”

He leans in for another kiss, much dirtier and much needier. His hips rut into yours desperately. “Yeah? Dunno if you’ve really earned it…” he comments, teasing you.

You don’t realize he’s egging you on, desperate for him in ways you didn’t think you could be. Your mind goes to the thing it was fixated on when Eddie once held your face, hands petting two fingers absentmindedly. You grab at the same two fingers, nimble and long, and place them in your mouth, sucking as you wrap your tongue around them.

Eddie’s mouth opens, jaw slack as his tongue pokes out. A shine appears in his eyes, glazing over as they fixate on your mouth. Your mind might’ve been tricking you, but you swear his dick twitches inside you. His hips have stopped…again. “Oh shit, my dirty little slut.”

You nod your head enthusiastically, rutting your hips up again, silently begging for more. You moan around him, eyes hooded, Eddie blurring in your vision from the steep want. Your teeth graze his fingers lightly, lapping your tongue over it when he whines. Around his fingers you choke, your mouth hot and wet. Your mouth leaves his fingers for a moment, light shining in the spit glazing your mouth. “Baby I need you to fuck me. Please, Ed. Please.”

“Listen to this little slut beg for it. Can you beg some more? Hm? See that pretty little mouth beg, just for me.” His low rumble only spurring you on further.

Eddie knows you love what that husky voice is saying as your pussy pulses around him. “Hmm. Eddie, please, please fuck me. Need that cock so fucking bad. You have no idea how much you turn me on, your rings, your arms, fuck, that pretty fucking mouth, those gorgeous eyes, oh my fucking god. I have needed you to fuck me for this last year, please, Ed, just rail me until I can’t think.”

Your chest is heaving, eyes slowly assessing Eddie’s reaction. A smile slowly creeps on his face, until it’s a smirk that sends a shiver right through you. Your eyes dart back and forth between his, anticipating his next move, biting your lip. The first thing he does is lean down to give you a kiss, that can simply be described as romantic. His tongue reaches out to connect with yours, gliding together in a dance that you don’t think you’ll ever get over.

Honestly, you think, if his kiss ever bores you, the person to your left better beat your ass for taking for granted how fantastic these lips are.

After a moment of just his lips on yours, lying together so unified, you aren’t sure where he stops and you begin. Slowly, his kisses move from your lips, down the dip of your neck, and he licks slowly up to your ear. “Hmm. Fuck you until you can’t think? Baby, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

A moan leaves your throat, a hint of a whimper. His lips curl up more against your ear, a light laugh huffing against it.

Then, his hips get to work.

Every goddamn time Eddie stopped, every time he made you beg for him to keep going, whether it be silent or verbal, he makes up for it tenfold as soon as his hips start moving. He pushes up, using his hands to lift his body up and start fucking you at a relentless pace. Slowly, you recognize an annoying squeak fades in the background, the sound of the axel against his differential from his hips bucking wonderfully.

Not a word leaves your throat, the only sounds are small gasps falling from your lips, faster and faster as the pleasure impossibly grows within you. It feels like an aura of heat, radiating from your full pussy, and throughout your body.

“Feel good, baby? Feel that fat cock fucking you, good and full?” He grunts out from between gritted teeth.

You nod, whines leaving your throat, one shock at a time.

His hand on your hip tightens, nails digging into the doughy skin of your ass. “Hey, slut. I asked you a fucking question.”

“So good…so good…so fucking good…so fucking good. Ed-Eddie…I—” You’re cut off by your own shout, the way he hits hard, and deep, impossibly harder.

“Look at my cock-drunk little slut, taking this cock so well.” He mutters, voice deep and gasping for air. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him so his forehead lands on yours, harshly, but in a way that makes him grunt…almost…animalistic…

“Cum…cum in me…” it’s a struggle to get out, but once it does, you witness Eddie falter for just a second.

“R-really?”

“Please, please cum in me. Want it dripping out of me, please baby.”

His hand stutters in its movements, sliding up from your hips, to your neck, hands gently raising on the front. “Want me to cum in you?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Want me to claim you as yours?”

“Been…been yours since I sat down at—ah—your table, Ed.”

“That’s fucking right, you have, you’re all fucking—all fucking mine.”

His hip movements are a little more jagged, his breathing heavy and jagged. “Harder.”

He chuckles, hand tightening around your throat, a grunt leaving your throat at each fucking hit. “Fuck…gonna—”

He cuts himself off, his cum filling you up deliciously in spurts of hot, white, mess. You go over the edge with him, your orgasm hitting you in a way that will have you fucking skipping around the halls of the school. You whine his name, choked out past his ring-necklace wrapped around your neck.

His torso collapses on yours, covered in sweat in the thick of the van.

His hand leaves your neck, both wrapping themselves into your hair. You seem to finally catch your breath, almost gasping as his weight is the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s laid on you several times before, but never this intimate, his breath mixing with yours, making you feel whole.

You giggle, a smile that takes over your face in every muscle, completely lighting up. As much as you try, you can’t hold it in. It floats down your face and into your body, every limb full of complete joy. Eddie twists his head into your neck, you feel the wide smile he makes, gorgeous laughter leaving his lips against you. His teeth nip at your neck, making you giggle harder, hands flying up to your face.

Eddie leans up his face to see yours, the lazy smile lopsided, a pretty shine in his eyes. It’s…new…and radiant. You giggle again as you look up at him, your hands landing on each side of his rosy, glowing, cheeks. His skin is hot and flushed, your thumbs slowly caressing his face.

He leans in for another kiss, gentle this time, making you feel all too dizzy. A sigh of utter contentment leaves your mouth, biting your lips anxiously. “Hi, love.” He mutters, a lithe finger moving a strand of hair that fell into your eye. “Doin’ good?”

You nod, shyly rubbing your head into his chest. “Very good.”

He laughs, tilting his head up to face the roof of the van, still sheltering you from the sturdy and never-ending rain. “Fuck, rain hasn’t stopped.”

“It’s pretty.” You comment, observing the pattern of the roof his van. “I love the sound.”

He hums, eyes raking you over as he leans into you. “Not as good as the sounds you make.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm gently. “Eddie.” You giggle, legs wrapping themselves around him. “What a line.”

His lips softly land on your cheek, giving you a final kiss. “Not a line, just the truth.” He whispers, hands now preparing himself to lift out of you.

“Wait.” You stop him, holding on to one of those strong arms of his. “I—I really don’t want you to leave yet, baby.”

A laugh escapes his throat, in utter disbelief if anything. “Oh, we have plenty of time for cock-warming, gorgeous, don’t you fucking worry.” He assures you. “I just thought we could go to my house, make out and watch a movie, ya know?”

“Mmhmm.” You answer, still moaning at the loss that was too much to handle. “I just wanted to…revel in it.”

“Oh, I love you so fucking much.” He sighs, grinning at you as he crawls to his clothes.

You lean up into your elbows, a symphony of giggles leaving your throat as he tosses your panties into your face. “Can we make out on your couch?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Eddie tells you, curly hair that’s already frazzled from the humidity even crazier from the tryst. “Hell, you can ride me, let’s get out of his van before we both catch a cold.”

You put on the skirt he hands to you. “Both?”

“Yep.” He nods, also throwing his jacket. “You walked a mile in the pouring rain with no jacket on. You’re gonna be a mess this weekend.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “I mean I’ll be a mess either way, no?”

Eddie shakes his head as he puts on his shirt, giving you a look you’ve been dying for him to shoot you. As if he’s so lucky to have caught you.

He’s wrong, you’re the lucky one. The two of you finally finish getting dressed, meeting in the middle in your cold, wet clothes. You crawl into his arms, nuzzling his chest as he places a kiss on your damp hair. “C’mon, let’s figure out how far we can get into Halloween before ripping each other’s clothes off again.”

You giggle, climbing into the passenger seat. If it was up to you, the tape wouldn’t even make it into the VCR.

Your hand intertwines with his on the way there, your whole body relaxing into the fabric seats. He can’t keep his eyes on the road, glancing at you every five seconds. It’s hard to believe only twelve hours ago you were in bed cocooned because your heart was aching so badly.

Now your heart aches in a completely different way, and it’s from not being able to comprehend that you could love and be loved in return just as much.

The next morning, Wayne walks into his trailer to see clothes scattered along the hall. You didn’t even make it to the couch.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson friends to lovers

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some-bunniii · 9 months ago

Text

Lucifer in love with an artist reader

・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.

warning: mild swearing

You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side.

You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night.

Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream?

If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you.

Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.

“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you.

Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.

Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth.

You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.

Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.

Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even.

What in the worl-

“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers.

Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!

Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence.

You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?!

You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair.

“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood.

Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous.

“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground.

“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”

“So yesterday was real..” You whispered,

“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.”

Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?

You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.

You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.

It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly.

Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist.

He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt.

“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again?

You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal.

“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.”

Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.”

“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room.

Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors.

It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?!

Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?”

He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?”

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.

Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward.

“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.”

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?”

“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.

You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.

Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back.

“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.

You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.

“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.

Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him.

He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors.

For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could.

Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.

You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music.

Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.

“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story.

“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.

Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”

“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.”

“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up.

“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you.

How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?

“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.

“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.

You shrugged, “I have no clue.”

“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”

You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.”

“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.

You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.

“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast.

Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened.

“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.

“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.

Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”

“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”

Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information.

“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.

Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping.

It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin.

Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction.

“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?”

“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!”

Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up.

He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.

Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?”

Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement.

“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.

“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”

“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group.

“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked.

“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.”

Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space.

There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could

Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.

“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.

Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.

“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.”

He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too.

Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils.

“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter.

Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!”

As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you.

Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.

“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness.

Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk.

With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious.

Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.

He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink.

“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws.

Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?”

“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces.

Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws.

Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.

“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.”

Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family.

Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers.

“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?”

“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.”

Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.”

“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.

“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”

A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at.

You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.

“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”

Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.

“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.”

That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.

“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”

“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you.

“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.

“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.

“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”

You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.

“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.

“It sounds kind of gross.”

“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!”

“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.

Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop,

“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.

Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.”

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.

“So, what did you need my help with?”

“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?”

You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”

Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’

Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune.

Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings.

Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon.

“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins.

Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.

Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups.

Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses.

Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.

In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade.

You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.

Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good.

You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.

“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel.

“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”

“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand.

“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth.

“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone.

Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile.

There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations.

Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.

“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates.

Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table.

Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.

You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.

“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk.

“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.

“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol.

Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.

“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.

Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.

“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.

“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.

Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.

“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.”

The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup.

He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.

He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze.

“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.

“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.”

Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.

It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.

“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square.

Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue.

When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically.

“Now what is it?”

“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.”

You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.

Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”

You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”

Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel.

You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.

Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.

Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.

Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you.

“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.

You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach.

“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly.

Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly.

“Yeah, me too.”

who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)

sorry about that long wait, forgive me ��

taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hellaverse

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