#my alarm doesn’t go off for an hour why did my body wake me up 45 minutes ago i’m going to throttle something

[alotofpockets]

Stretching the truth | Laia Codina x Physio!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "You haven't kissed me all day."

A/n: thank you @valkyrie-00 @totaly-obsessed and @catasha from the woso writers server for your ideas on this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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After not having to wake up early during winter break, your 7am alarm was rough. You turned it off and before you were even able to get out from under the covers, your girlfriend wrapped her arm around your body and pulled you closer. “Don’t go.” She said still half asleep.

You had spent the winter break in Spain with Laia’s family. She had been missing her family, so it was a no-brainer to go. Your family was out here, and who were you to say no to the nice and warm Spanish weather?

In Spain you had spent almost every single day of your trip with Laia by your side, so you weren’t surprised that she was now clinging onto you. “Back to work today, love. I have to go in early to set everything up.”

“Five more minutes?” Her sleepy voice begged. “Alright, five minutes, but not a minute more.” You knew that if you wouldn’t stop it at five, Laia would be able to keep you there for an hour if she wanted to.

After cuddling for a while longer, you told her you really had to go. You placed a soft kiss onto her lips, “I’ll see you soon.” 

The first day back for you meant starting off with a few meetings, and setting up your physio room. A few of the girls would come in to get assessed before training, while the other physios had appointments with the other girls. 

On your schedule were Vic, Lia, Laura, and Lina. The girls had been either injured or just coming back from their injuries. You had been working with them before the break as well, and wanted to make sure that the work they put in over break did their bodies well.

Vic came in for her assessment first, you chatted a bit while you checked off all the boxes, and declared her ready to start training with the team. She had been working hard towards her comeback, and you were happy to see the progress she had been able to make already. It wouldn’t be long now before she would be playing again, you knew it and knew it made her incredibly happy.

The next person that came into your office was Lina, she came to you with some struggles. She let you know that her calf wasn’t feeling great, so you checked it out. After assessing her calf and the rest of your checklist, you recommended her to come in after her gym session.

The next person you expected to walk in was Lia, but instead it was Laia who walked through the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Emma today.”

Laia closed the door behind her and sat down on your physio table. “I was, but she wanted me to see you instead.” You furrowed your brows, “Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just my ankle is bothering me a bit.” She said while putting her leg up. “Your ankle?” Her injury confused you, because she hadn’t mentioned anything during the break. 

“Yeah, my left ankle. I think I hurt it when I got out of the car, just a misstep.” You looked between her face and then the foot she put up. “Your left ankle is hurting, but you put up your right?”

Her eyes widened and it takes every ounce of power in you to stay professional and not start laughing. “Left? Did I say left? No no, I meant right. It- it’s the language barrier, I switched them up, accidentally.” 

With a shake of your head and a light chuckle, you say, “Alright, let’s take a look at your right ankle.” As you had expected, there wasn’t much you could find, just Laia dramatically flinching as if it was hurting. It was a good thing she didn’t go into acting, because it took everything in you to not just burst out laughing.

“It doesn’t look like much.” You said when you were done assessing her ankle. “But, let’s keep an eye on it. You’re all set to head to the gym.”

Laia jumps down from the bed like there was no problem with her ankle, confirming for you that it was nothing. “Thank you.” She says and steps closer to you, the twinkle in her eyes makes you take a step back instantly. “We’re at work.”

Your girlfriend’s shoulders slump down. “You’re right, I’ll see you later.” You don’t have time to feel bad, as the next player enters the room.

The morning was filled all the way until lunch break, which you spend in the dining hall with the rest of the staff and players. After break it was right back to work, some taping before you would spend some time with Vic on the pitch.

The only person that was scheduled to come in was Lina, but once again it was Laia who entered. “Oh hi. Is everything okay?” She nods, “Yeah, just a tight muscle in my calf and I wondered if you could help.”

You looked at your watch, about ten minutes before Lina would come in, so you told her to lay down. As Laia laid down on the physio table, you grabbed some massage oil and began working on her calf. You couldn’t deny how toned her muscles were, even if this was supposed to be professional. No wonder they made sure that Laia was usually seeing one of your coworkers and not you.

“Is this where it was feeling tight?” You asked, applying a little more pressure to a specific spot. “Mhm, yeah, right there.” She responded with a little too much satisfaction. Her tone made you chuckle. “What? You’re good at this.”

You rolled your eyes but kept working, your fingers kneading into her calf. "Feels more like you're enjoying this than actually needing help."

Laia turned around on the table and put her leg up, like you asked her to do. “You’re the best at giving massages, of course I would come to see you.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Hm sure, and the ankle this morning? Totally legitimate too?”

With the most horribly performance of an innocent face, Laia said “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Just as you were finishing up, Laia stretched her arms above her head, causing her shirt to ride up slightly, exposing her toned stomach slightly. You stopped talking mid-sentence, much to Laia’s delight. “Oh, was that distracting? Sorry.” She said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, “You’re impossible.”

Before Laia could make a comeback, a knock on the door interrupted. It was Lina poking her head around the door, “Am I early?”

You looked at your watch quickly, “Right on time. Laia was just leaving.” She reluctantly hopped off the table. Giving you one last daring look, before closing the door behind her.

The team knew you and Laia were together, and you had become good friends with most of them because the two of you were dating, so it wasn’t weird when Lina raised her eyebrows at what just happened. “Something going on there?” She said with a knowing smile. “Just a very needy patient.” You joked back, before you told her to sit down, so you could tape her calf.

When you were done with taping, you headed into your office for a quick coffee break and filling out some papers for the work you had done today, before you would head out to the pitch with Vic.

“Hello!” A familiar voice said from your office door. You sighed and rolled your eyes lightly, while a smile tugged at your lips. “Laia, what is it this time?”

She stepped into your office and closed the door behind her with an innocent smile on her face. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Sleeping? Why are you coming to me for that and not Emma?”

Laia sat down on the chair across from you, her face plastered with a serious look. “Well, it’s about positions.” Her wording catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heating up, “What?”

“You know,” she continued, “positions. I can’t seem to find the right one… to sleep comfortably.”

“Okay, that’s enough. What is with you today?” You lean back into your chair and move your hands through your hair. 

"You haven't kissed me all day." Laia said with a pout. And then every single unnecessary visit started to make sense. “Oh Laia, really? You’ve been hogging my patient time because you wanted a kiss?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Can you blame me? We went from spending every minute together to barely seeing each other all day. I had to be creative.”

You had to give her credit, she had been creative. “You know there’s a time and place for that, right? Here? Not the place.” You chuckled.

Her pout deepened as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on your desk. “But you love me, so you’ll forgive me, right?”

You sighed dramatically, though the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible to resist,” she said back instantly. Oh she was good, you thought while shaking your head. 

“Fine. One kiss. But only so I can actually do my job for the rest of the day.” You gave in. Laia’s face lit up and she was on her feet instantly. “Deal!”

She walked to the other side of your desk and waited for you to stand up to wrap her arms around your waist and give you a loving kiss. Laia was trying to deepen the kiss, so you reluctantly stepped back. “Not the place.” You warned.

Laia pulled away with a smirk. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Out. Go train or do something productive. I’ve got actual work to do.” Your girlfriend grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Alright. I’ll behave.” She walked towards the door, before she closed it behind her she looked back and added “For now.”

You were left in the room shaking your head in amusement. She was really something. But you loved her dearly and could not wait to get home.

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[htelover24]

Curse Breaker pt 1

WARNINGS PLEASE READ: mentions of suicide body dysmorphia sh and depression

A/N: IM BACK and with a series. (Let me know what you think?? (This chapter is kinda a get to know yourself as a character I’m writing BUT billie does come in toward the end so give it a chance)

Reader is immortal and struggling to be completely blunt. Billie moves in next door. Can she help reader feel something again? Is it fate?

22 years and forever to go. You could call me Annie if I had the choice because then It’d be “A day away.” Not a day goes by without at least a desperate attempt. Not a minute passes without the thought ricocheting through my head. I still can’t quite get a grip on the mystery I call my life. Maybe I’m already dead. I like to think that way but I want nothing more than to believe it.

Truth be told I can’t fucking die, and trust me I’ve tried. Not a damn thing works. At least I can say all hope is dead kinda wish it was me though.

If you’re asking why I’d want to die at such a young age, ask that to 13 year old you on the bathroom floor with the blade in one hand and 11 pills in the other. I’m tired of that question my therapist asks it enough.

Speaking of therapy what’s the point. You’re talking to someone to help you, yet you’re $150 short once you leave. It’s really belittling to know you’re just their source of income isn’t it. It’s not even like you tell the truth first few sessions but they’re still getting paid to listen to your lies. Absolute bullshit.

My thoughts are track racing again challenger one being denial and the other being reality there’s no draw yet neither of them win but neither one excepting the loss thus a rematch. You’d think they’d give up right?…… Yeah me too.

Just as the 7th race finishes my alarm goes off if you were wondering denial won, he pushed reality down and stopped him out. What did you expect he can’t expect anything and definitely not defeat.

I look around my room adjusting my eyes to the familiar interior. I scoot out of bed, legs feeling flimsy from the lack of holding up my weight for 8 hours. I stutter over to my bathroom feeling incredibly sick from the failed attempt at poisoning myself overnight. I was hoping I’d die in my sleep, but like always I wake up with the unjust consequences of my actions.

I look in the mirror at my disarrayed reflection. I’ve got dried spit smudge at the side of my mouth, eye crush built up along my tear ducts, and hair disheveled knots engulfing my hair tie making it almost invisible.

A heavy sigh slips passed my lips as I turn on the water to my shower. Stepping in feeling the warmth of the water trickling down my skin reminding me of the same sensation of my blanket, just missing the gentle mattress. I put the stopper in the drain and watched as the water rouse filling my tub.

Attempt one.

I lay down flat on my back and let out all the air from my lungs before dunking my head completely submerging myself in the water.

My body doesn’t panic and my mind is loaded with the absence of thought. When my chest feels like it’s been pinched, picked at, compressed, and dismantled I inhale the water around me. My eyes widened at the familiar feeling of guilt and agonizing thick blurred pain in my lungs. I can clearly make out the shape of my lungs as they feel the heaviest in my body. I feel them rest on my vertebrae as my heart loses its steady tempo, both quickening and slowing. My skin feels like it’s being bitten all over and injected with venom. My eyes go droopy and my body begins to sink onto the marble shell of my tub. My heart completely stops but my brain still very conscious.

I’d failed again.

After a few hours I finally gain feeling back in my body. I sit up very slowly looking down at my flory reflection in the water.

How come it never works out. Whether it’s my life or my failed attempts to get rid of it. It all goes to shit. It sucks because apparently life is precious but at what cost does it keep its value. Does my mental health have to deplete for me to still be of worth to anyone? Do I have to suffer to uplift the value of others? It’s unfair. It’s either the world is fucked up or…….. it’s me. I know if I dwell on it too much I’ll drown again just in the counter narrative of my mind. “Whatever”… Is the only thing I can say to keep myself from breaking.

I unclog the drain watching the water spiral down reminding me a lot of myself. I stand up a bit unsteady from well you know….. drowning, and turn my shower head back on. I grab my soap and froth up my sponge.

I bring my sponge to the skin of my arm smoothly lathering myself in a layer of soap. Before I know it I’m completely covered…. So why do I still feel so gross.

I look down at my body seeing every out of place lump, dip, and curve. They begin at my shoulders and the whole length down to my feet. I scrub at the skin of my arm harshly practically scraping at it hoping to get rid of these imperfections. My hands race down to my stomach and I snatch pinch and scrub I scrub until I’m red and bleeding. I can’t stop my hands from traveling all over my body working to destroy what I see as an enemy.

My body feels like it’s been raked before I finally put my sponge down….. At least I’m clean right?

I step out the shower not bothering with drying off I look in my foggy mirror not being able to make out my features, but from what I can see I look like a silhouette of pink and red splotches. Darker in the area I’m most disgusted with.

I walk over to my closet and pick an outfit to lounge in and won’t be uncomfortable after a few more attempts at taking my life. I put my hair in a messy bun with a few strands that didn’t quite make it in leaking out the hair tie.

I walk over to my nightstand and pick up the bottle of Ondansetron and down 16 of them.

Attempt 2

After a few hours I feel the overdosage take over. My face feels like it’s being rearranged, as well as my organs. I get up to go drink some water before I-

DING DONG.

I haven’t had a visitor at my door in weeks who could possibly be at my house, and at such a bad time. I walk over to the door looking through the peep hole. I see the most magnificent blonde woman at my door holding what looks to be a pumpkin pie with a bizarre purple color to it, though that can always just be the overdose defects.

I open the door and she smiles.

“Hey I’m billie the new neighbor thought I’d introduce myself instead of just being a stranger you know?”

Her smile begins to drop along with my body to the floor.

No fucking way I just died in front of her. The hottest woman to ever interact with me just saw me die. This is so fucked.

“Holy Shit.” Is the last thing I hear before going unconscious.

[astrobei]

where’s that one post that’s like “when you have a dream that’s a little too on the nose” or something like that because i just had a dream that my dad finally agreed to take ssris and that’s not even on the nose that’s on a whole level above that somehow

[moonlesslights]

“Do you miss me?”

Max Verstappen x Sergio Pérez

He wakes up covered in sweat. Again.

The sun lies still hidden beneath the moon and the stars, although it must not be long before his alarm goes off beside his bed. His feet are cold even when his hair sticks to his forehead, wet. The air is oppressive and he can’t breathe.

“Fuck.” He cusses, softly, when his skin touches the cold floor of the hotel bedroom.

He moves out of instinct, barely stopping to put on a couple of sandals. His eyes don’t wander too much around the room, he already knows how big it is, how much space for a single person, how every of his movements echoes around the furniture, as if mocking him for his loneliness. His smallness.

He pulls his shirt down, sighs, takes the handle of the door, pulls…, and then he stops. His brain starts to dispel the fogginess around it. ‘Where are you going?’ It asks him.

To Checo’s room, he responds. But his thought falls silent almost as soon as it comes.

Checo’s not here. Remember?

He left in December. Because of your lies, and the way the team treated him. Because of the hell he had to put up with.

Everyone is asleep, Liam doesn’t even stay in the same hotel. The person that reserved the room beneath yours every weekend, is gone. There’s no one waiting for you to knock on his door so you can sleep between his sheets the last hours of the early morning.

You’re alone.

And suddenly, the room felt much colder. The space around him, overwhelming. He closes the door. It echoes through his whole body. It mocks him.

The alarm goes off.

Max takes a step back, then another, until he finally reaches his nightstand and is able to press ‘stop’ on his screen. Then, the silence again, the picture of his latest championship looks back at him.

Checo was there. He remembers it.

The way he screamed at his victory, the way he laughed and laughed until he was in front of the mexican in the garage again. His dark eyes were soft, the thin lines of his smile made a beautiful groove around his lips. He was so sad and Max should’ve known, he should’ve known better: It was the end.

If I had known, he thinks, raising his phone on his hand, if I had known it was the last time I would see you, would I have smiled longer? Would I have set aside your hands when you tried to congratulate me and hold you tighter? Just like the first time we won, together.

Why weren’t you by my side this time?

Was it my fault?

Was it I?

Did my insatiable hunger for more ended up hurting you too?

Did I bit too deep?

His fingers swipe through his phone, he itches in his palms as he looks through his contacts, anxiously looking in recents for his name. Those five letters that he learned to pronounce with such gentleness, with the thick accent the mexican brought with him.

He reaches December 18th and he has to take a second to remember he didn’t call. His partner had just suddenly vanished, stepped out of his life and he couldn’t make enough courage to ask him why.

Why without a goodbye?

Why without a kiss?

He feels his heart getting heavy as the seconds pass. What would he do if he had another chance?What did he win?

Was the money enough of a compensation for never hearing his calm voice calling out his name every morning?

Max.

If he only had one more morning, one more sunrise with his hot breath, his soft smile ‘Max, wake up.’ Maybe this time he wouldn’t pull the covers above his head, or watch him with a frown as the man stands completely dressed while he would stay with the marks of the pillow on his cheek for another couple hours. No. Maybe this time he wouldn’t hold his breath and act like a dazzled dear when Checo lowers his head to him, or when he presses a hand besides his head, or puts a leg between his, imprisoning him so slightly yet so much that just every breath threatened to push him out of the blurred lines between them.

This time he wouldn’t look away, he would keep his eyes on his, drinking of the dark coffee his irises offered him. This time he would pull him in, placing his hand on the back of his head; his leg would find a way around Checo's waist, till he could make sure to keep him locked there, to feel him moving.

He would taste his lips.

Over, and over, and over again.

And maybe that’s why it never happened. Cause once his tongue explored his skin, there was no turning back. He wouldn’t care about the race, the championship, the glory and the fame. The only from that moment on would be Checo.

Checo. Checo. Checo.

He would’ve sacrificed everything if he had asked him. He would’ve tear his career apart for a single ‘I want you.’ I love you.

Could love be this way?

Could it hurt so bad?

Could I have done every wrong because hurting you was the only way to keep you mine?

You hated this team, you hated the fame and the cameras. You hated the headlines and the shouting. If you kept improving, if you kept showing how strong you are, you would have left me.

There wouldn’t be a single team not wanting you and you would’ve left me.

But now you hate me too, isn’t it?

This December finally, nothing stopped you.

His index presses down the screen. The beeping begins. Repetitive, slow. One after another. The sun rises behind his window.

“Do you miss me?”

~

Hello! I wrote this short little thing a couple of days after Checo's retirement from Red Bull. I’m a huge fan of his and although it really hurt just the way it is, I had the idea for this post for a time before finally putting effort and editing into it.

Thank you for thanking a minute to read it. I hope you enjoyed.

Love, Liz. xx

PS: The final is intended. I wanted it to be reader's decision if it was a line from Checo or Max.

[rockermybuddie]

Insecurity

A/n: lets pretend that thats Tommys hand in the gif lol!

Tommy x Evan “Buck”

•This is a sequel to my previous story Misunderstanding

Summary: Tommy and Evan are still working on getting their relationship back on track after Kaleb kissed Tommy after a misunderstanding. Evan is still kind of hurt by it even though he knows Tommy wont hurt him hes become insecure about his body now that he saw how well fit Kaleb was. Evan hides it well but when hes on a call what hes been doing to his body comes out.

Tw: Eating disorder, self harm

———

~Tommys POV~

I open my eyes when i hear a ringing sound coming from the nightstand. I look at the time 6am, time to get ready for work. I turn off the alarm and reach over to wake up Evan but to my surprise his side of the bed is empty. I look towards the bathroom but it was empty.

Its been three months since the Kaleb incident, Evan and I’s relationship has hit a small bump but we are slowly working on it. I’ve been really trying to show Evan how much i truly care about him through everything and anything.

Saying i love you a lot, cooking homemade meals for us, surprising him with little gifts.

I let out a big streach as i get put of bed to go find Evan. When i walk down stairs i can smell sausage and eggs. I look on the stove and see a pan that has scrambled eggs, sausage, hasbrowns, and onions in it. I hear a steady thump coming from the garage.

When i open the door i see Evan running on the treadmill in a sweat suit. “Evan!” I say loud so he can hear me. Its 6am why is he running on the treadmill? When he doesn’t respond i walk over in front of the treadmill.

Evan comes to a stop when he sees me, sweat dripping down his face, he looks exhausted. “How long have you been down here?” I ask him. “Only an hour.” He answers. “I left you breakfast on the stove.” He tells me. “Wheres your breakfast?” I ask. “I already ate.” He says. I notice he broke eye contact with me when he said that which made me question if he actually ate or not.

“Oh, what did you eat?” I ask him. “You know, just my norm.” He says shrugging his shoulders. He moves over to the mat on the floor and starts doing pushups. As hot as he looks working out im a little concerned about him.

“Evan.” He looks up at me as he continues on. “Why are you working out so early?” I ask. “Just getting a quick work out before work.” He says as if this is something he does everyday.

“Why dont you come and eat with me and then we can take a shower together before we go to work since we wont see each other.” I suggest. Which i would like to spend sometime with him before we head to our shifts.

Evan gets up and walks into the kitchen with me. I grab the pan and i spilt my breakfast with him even though he tried to stop me. I told him that after that work out he needs to eat again. After we ate we went back upstairs and took a shower.

I wrap my arms around Evan as i bring him closer to me feeling myself against him. I give soft kisses on his neck as i move my hands down his body. As im about to take him into my hand he turns off the water. “Evan?” I question, he usually loves a quick one before a shift.

“Not right now.” Is all he says and gets out of the shower. “Is everything okay?” I ask him. He shakes his head yes as he drys off. I dont let it get to me its been awhile since we had intimacy so im craving it but i need to respect Evan and how he wants to handle us at the moment.

As we say our goodbyes in the drive way before heading our separate ways i tell him how much he means to me and that if theres anything he needs to talk to me about he can. Evan insures me that everything is okay, i smile at him giving him one more kiss before we both get into our cars.

I watch as Evan backs out of the driveway and drives off. I get my phone out of my pocket and pull up Eddies number. I type out a text to keep an eye on Evan but hesitate to hit the send button.

If i send it then it will cause a worry and Evan might be upset about it or it’ll be a good thing to have another person who is close to Evan checking on him.

I ended up sending the message anyways and immediately got a text back saying ok. That made me feel a little better but not a lot.

———

~Bucks POV~

I arrived at the station pretty early, i sat in my car for a few moments and thought about Tommy. Hes been really trying to make up for the Kaleb situation three months ago. I know now that it wasnt Tommy fault at all but part of me is still clinging on to the anger i felt.

I still love Tommy i know he was questioning me alot this morning because i think only insane people exercise at 5 in the morning. But when i saw how fit Kaleb looked i figured Tommy will like me more if i was smaller.

I open my door grabbing my bag and headed into the firehouse. I threw my bag in my locker and changed my clothes. I headed over to the work out area and got on the treadmill and started jogging making my way to speed.

“Hey Buck.” Eddie says walking up to me. “Hey.” I say focusing on my running. “Can you help me with something?” Eddie asks. “Sure.” I tell him. I slow down on tbe treadmill as it comes to a stop. When i go to step off i get real light headed all of a sudden and kind of stumble back.

“Woah, you okay Buck?” Eddies asks grabbing my shoulder to steady me as i grab the arm of the treadmill. “Um yeah. Yeah im fine.” I say waving a hand. My head stops spinning and i can focus now. Eddie looks at me making sure im actually okay before we go off and do whatever he needs.

We had some calls come in but they all went smooth. Eddie kept checking in on me though, i dont know why.

We are back at the station now and Bobby is cooking dinner while the others are upstairs playing a game. They asked me to join but i wanted to go down and get another work out in.

“Buck, Dinner!” Eddie yells from the balcony. “Okay, coming!” I yell back. I think about how i’m going to do this because if i dont eat they are going to start asking questions. Its not easy to lie about eating at work then it is at home.

I head upstairs and took my seat at the table. “You need to go shower Buck.” Hen says scrunching her nose. “Sorry.” I say, I think this is a good excuse, i can shower while they eat and just say im going to eat when i get done. “No sit down Buck. You can shower when we are done.” Bobbh says raising his fork at me when instood back up.

“Why are you working out so much? That was like your fith work out today.” Eddie asks. “Just trying to stay in shape.” I answer, which isnt a lie.

When we finished dinner i went to the bathroom to shower but first i went into a stall and squatted in front of the toilet. I took my two fingers and stuck them down my throat making myself gag in till i threw up.

When i finished i was about to get in the shower when the bell rang. I swished some water in my mouth and splashed some on face and headed to the trucks.

“Buck you okay?” Hen asks looking at me with a weird expression. “You’re awfully pale.” She reaches her hand out and feels my face. “Yeah im fine.” I tell her, even though i was fighting the urge to pass out. I needed to keep my focus, we were on a call.

When we got to the scene it was an apartment fire, me and Eddie were searching for a young boy on the 5th floor who got separated from his mother.

My head felt like it was going to fall off, i was so dizzy i dont think i was walking in a straight line. Walking up the stairs with my gear on almost took me out. “Buck, are you okay?!” Eddie asks me putting his hands on my shoulder staring at me through his mask. “Yeah.” I shout trying to focus. But there was too many things to focus on.

“Buck, Eddie. The little boys been found, get out of there.” Cap says on the radio. “Come on Buck.” Eddie says, he knows something is wrong and hes about to get it out of me as soon as were out of here.

We are walking back down the stairs, im in front all of a sudden the room starts spinning and my eyes roll back. The last thing i heard was “Buck!”

———-

~Tommys POV~

“Hello?” I say answering my phone. “What hospital?!” I leave the station telling Stevens i have an emergency. I get in my truck and drive to the hospital Evan is at.

My heart is racing, Eddie called me telling me that Evan blacked out on a call in an apartment building and fell down the stairs. Hes at the hospital now.

When i arrive i rush in and go straight to the nurses station. “Evan Buckley.” I tell her. “Tommy.” I hear a familiar voice my head snaps in the direction and i see Bobby.

“Where is he?” I ask him. Bobby leads me to Evans room. When i walk in i see him sitting up in the hospital bed. A big bruise on his shoulder, i guess from where he hit the wall and the oxygen tube in his nose.

“Im so glad you’re okay. You scared me.” I sat on the side of his bed and wrapped my arms around him. He winced a little at that but rested his head on my shoulder.

The doctor came in and informed me that Evan hasnt been eating and has been overworking himself. Eddie also told me that Evan was constantly running on tbe treadmill everytime they were back at the station.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” I ask him. “Please tell me the truth.” I held his hands in mine. “So i can look good.” Evan says, voice low. “You already look amazing Evan.” I tell him confused.

“No. Kaleb looked good. I need to look like him.” Evan snaps. My heart sunk and i felt for Evans pain. Im stunned and upset that i didnt catch this before.

“Evan, i love the way you look. I love you for who you are. Dont you ever compare yourself to someone else. Because i don’t want someone else, i want you.” I run my hand across his cheek cradling his face in my hand wipping away his tears.

“I’m sorry. I dont know why im still caught up with this.” Evan apologizes. “Dont apologize Evan. Its okay i promise. I understand, i would still be upset too if the roles were reversed, but its not. We’ll get there Evan just please talk to me.” I ask of him. He nods.

“Just please dont hurt yourself. I cant lose you.” I give him a kiss both of our lips shaking together.

[goodluckdetective]

FIC: FIVE HOURS (Tumblr Edition)

Ship: Durge/Astarion but this is a fic about Astarion

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Astarion backstory is referenced in passing

Rating: PG-13

AO3

Summary: 

Being controlled by one’s dark urge is hard, but watching someone you care for lose themselves might be harder. Or Astarion and five hours spent watching over someone he can no longer recognize. (How do you keep hating yourself as a monster when you've started to fall for one?)

Notes:

Hello, I took one look at vampire man and Durge and went “ah yes, the drama of falling in love with someone who sees themselves as a monster.” This fic does have a custom dark urge/durge because I don’t think it hits as hard otherwise, but it’s very much a fic about Astarion. Rune in this piece is me holding up a mirror and going “if you’re gonna to see the humanity in this person, then why do you refuse to do it for yourself” while Astarion hisses like a cat. Sorry bud, get perceived. All you need to know about Rune is that they’re a NB human wild magic sorcerer (they/them) A big thanks to @dykezambo and Rose for being my beta readers. I salute you.

Fic is below the cut

HOUR ONE:

Astarion thinks it might still be some sort of sick prank until Rune Tavernus’ eyes roll up into the back of their head and they collapse to the ground in a heap.

A prank would make more sense than this, Astarion thinks, as he scrambles onto his feet and towards the unconscious sorcerer. Rune wasn’t much of a prankster, but they did have some wit and a streak of dark humor to match. What the point would be of a prank like this was beyond Astarion, but in his head he can manufacture a bizarre scenario where Rune thinks it would be funny to give Astarion a taste of his own medicine with a sinister wake-up call. And yes, the whole explanation of “killing the one they cared most for” didn't fit the prank theory, Rune wouldn’t play with his feelings so brazenly, but when one's occasional bedmate starts rambling about being forced to kill you, a cruel trick tends to be a kinder explanation. 

And then Rune passed out and that idea had gone out the metaphorical window.

“Shit,” Astarion says, pressing his palm to their forehead. Rune runs warm to Astarion, almost everyone does, but they feel clammy to the touch. Their short white hair is almost damp with sweat and sticks to their forehead. He shakes them, once, then twice, calling their name with increasing volume, but they don’t stir. That in itself is alarming; Rune is not a deep sleeper. In fact, they’re known for sleeping poorly, waking up from unremembered dreams with a choked-off scream. Every morning they chug whatever caffeinated beverage Halsin brews as soon as it’s cool enough not to burn their tongue. 

Rune doesn’t rouse even after a minute of shaking. Astarion considers waking Shadowheart, but the whole business with Alfira gives him enough pause to instead first go for the rope in his pack. Rune had been back to normal by morning when she was slain; if this is similar, then Astarion would just have to wait until dawn for a full explanation. With a great deal of effort on his part, he drags Rune to an open bedroll closest to the fire and binds their arms together as well as their legs, feeling somewhat like out of body. 

(He tries hard to not think of a pig prepared for slaughter. He tries harder to not think about how Cazador might have tied up the people he brought home the very same way.) 

“You know, this was not the situation I was envisioning when the idea of you and rope came to mind,” he says, because making a flirty joke is familiar and Gods knows he needs something familiar right now. This is a situation he can handle better as Astarion the rake, who lets nothing get too close, who brushes off mortal peril with a quick comment and a fake grin. When he’s sure the ropes are tight, he walks over to his bedroll, and grabs a blanket to sit on, a light scroll, a book, and after some hesitation, his daggers. 

(He’s not going to need them, he isn’t. Rune gave him these daggers and told him to “keep them as sharp as your fangs” should he choose to use them.)

(He desperately hopes he’s not going to need them).

Once his supplies are grabbed and organized, he places the blanket on the ground and sits on it. He casts light on a nearby wilted plant, and sits back. He looks at the sorcerer he has bedded in a gambit for security and thinks about how said gambit turned on its head when he found he actually rather liked the person who offered to cast him minor illusion to see his own reflection and provided their blood in a land of shadows because “you shouldn’t starve.”

“I will admit this isn’t how I wanted to spend my evening, but I suppose I’ll survive.” He reaches for his book and opens it, even though he doubts he’s going to be able to focus enough to read a word. “Hopefully, this is all a false alarm, and I can simply catch up on this chapter. Do you think the Count will actually manage to make any progress in his grand plan, or is he going to keep dithering about Waterdeep for another thirty pages?”

(The book was also a gift from Rune, though it was not the first one the sorcerer gave him. A day after reaching the Blighted Village, Astarion had sneaked back from his midnight meal to find the human grumbling over a slightly burnt text near the fire. Hoping to distract them from the fact he was awake in the first place, Astarion had inquired about the books’ contents, only to find himself the audience for a tirade about overly complicated murder plots. Apparently, Rune had strong opinions on the accuracy of snakes climbing ropes. From that point on, Astarion had found himself part of the world’s strangest murder mystery book club, where the pair both tried to guess how the murder took place and then endlessly complained about how overcomplicated it was when stabbing them in an alley would work just fine). 

Rune does not reply. Astarion doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Instead of debating it further, he instead tries to turn his attention to the text in front of him, and hopes that Rune is wrong and the only thing that will occur this night is Astarion getting some reading in and Rune waking up with some neck pain.

HOUR TWO: 

Rune wakes up around ten minutes after the first hour mark. 

That isn’t quite correct. Something wakes up around the ten minute mark. It is not Rune.

Astarion knows it before they even open their mouth. From the moment they wake up, they struggle against their own bindings, jerking much like a wounded animal caught in a trap. When their eyes open, there are none of the emotions he’s used to seeing in their expression, instead an empty raw look that reminds Astarion of a starving hound. Before he can say a word, they snarl at him.

“I see my rope is sadly going to good use,” Astarion says, putting the book aside and getting on his knees in case he needs to stand and get away. He doubts it, those knots should hold and Rune doesn’t seem to be capable of casting spells at the moment, but it's best to be cautious. 

“I will rip out your tongue and swallow it whole,” Rune says in a voice that does not sound like Rune at all. It’s a whole octave lower, and there’s a throaty edge to it, like the human has inhaled smoke.

“I know I tease quite a bit, but ripping out my tongue is rather excessive, don’t you think?” The banter doesn’t land, it’s almost like Rune can’t even hear him. Astarion wonders if they will even remember this in the morning. 

He hopes not. He can remember watching his body follow Cazador’s every order as he tried desperately to claw back control. It is a fate he would not wish on any of his companions. 

It occurs to him that this could be like a possession. It would make the most sense, and the impulse to wake up Shadowheart returns. Rune hisses and snaps forward, trying to bite one of his hands and Astarion steps back. He can see drool and blood from their now broken lip fall onto the bedroll. 

( He can see himself in a coffin, snapping at the rat Cazador is holding out for him with a wicked smile .)

No, he won’t wake her. Not yet at least, not unless morning comes without a respite. Instead he shakes his head, tries to keep his voice light. 

“Ah, ah, ah, we ask before we bite.”

Rune snaps at him again, struggling at the bindings and Astarion can smell the blood from broken skin on their wrists and lip. His own mouth waters and he ignores it.

If there is one thing he learned in Cazador’s halls, it was how to be hungry. 

HOUR THREE:

After an hour, the thing that has taken Rune’s face stops threatening to murder him and starts growling instead. Despite it being off-putting, Astarion is thankful for the respite, as all the comments about ways to display his internal organs were getting old. 

“You’re cute, you know.,” he says, too tired to think through what he’s saying. “In another life we might have been friends.”

It’s an odd thought that comes to mind, the concept of him meeting whatever this is back when he was under Cazador’s boot. What would he make of someone like this, who growled murderous insults and clawed at the ground as if the dirt could draw blood? Interesting perhaps? Maybe pitiful? An asset against Cazador?

(He knows what he would have done. He would have dragged them back to the manor and not had a second thought as soon as Cazador had them in his clutches. He would have gone back to the rooms and thought nothing more of a human with white hair, a lanky build and a soft smile. He would have continued on and not known that should he have met that same human during the day, they would ask him about the embroidery on his sleeves and tease him that magistrates were actually in contact with the hells. He would not even know the human’s name when the sun rose to a world they no longer occupied).

(He cannot think about this. He refuses). 

He feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“On second thought,” he says, looking away from Rune. The shadow lands around them seem darker at night. He finds himself desperate for the sun. “It’s probably for the best that we didn't meet at all.”

The thing that is not Rune growls again, with more energy this time. 

“Growl all you want but it won’t stop the dawn. This will be over soon.”

HOUR FOUR:

Whatever is controlling Rune goes back to insults eventually, though their voice frayed from all the growling. Astarion ignores most of them, until one in particular captures his attention.

“I will wed you with a delicate veil of blood blooming over your white curls.”

Astarion stares at Rune, or whatever is possessing them, with a rather shocked expression. It says something about his life, or undeath, he supposes, that the word “wed” is the one that caught him off guard in that sentence, not the rest of it. Marriage is not a concept he has thought about in relationship to himself for at least a century. When he was younger it had its allure, Astarion was serious when he said Wyll was the type of man he dreamed of marrying when he was thirteen, but now? He’s a spawn, for Gods sake. Creatures like him either die or become vampire lords: there are no other endings. 

He does not say any of this out loud. Instead he goes for a quip. 

“Marriage? Darling, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, we’re not even-“

He cuts off. They’re not even what? More than bedmates? That’s not right: he hasn’t bedded Rune since they entered the shadowlands and Rune has made no complaint about it at all. Not even friends? That didn’t seem right either. He’s not sure how to label how he feels about this human, but when one offers to draw your scars in the dirt so you can see them and you actually let them, you were probably at least friends.  Exclusive? No, that also doesn’t fit. Astarion hasn’t bothered to lie with anyone else in camp and Rune hasn’t either, even when Astarion made it clear he didn’t mind. And it wasn’t like Rune didn’t have options to pick from: Lae’Zel’s proposal had been quite direct and Astarion had bit the inside of his cheek to not laugh as their usually composed sorcerer flushed peach pink. Gale had made an attempt as well, though Rune didn’t tell him about that one until afterwards. 

“I’ve spoiled you too much for even the lover of a Goddess. How flattering!” They were in Rune’s tent at the time, a mage light cast upon a blue crystal Rune kept around for decor. It was one of the few pieces of decoration they kept around consistently, as the human tended to switch things out, trying to figure out what they liked and what they didn’t from the ruins of their memory. Rune had returned from a talk with Gale with a moderate flush and after a glass of terrible wine and some cajoling, Astarion had gotten the whole story out of them.

Rune tilted their head and shook it slightly. Their hair was rumpled from a day of casting electricity magic, and Astarion resisted the urge to curl his fingers into one of the white cowlicks. Something about the lack of polish Astarion found endearing.  

“No, no, not that,” they said. “It’s just, well for one, I don’t like him like that. And even if I did, well-” Rune took a sip of their wine, finishing off the glass. “His last relationship wasn’t good for him-”

“Darling, you cannot kill the Goddess of magic,” Astarion said, noticing a hard glint in their eyes. It wasn’t like Astarion was on board with the idea as a concept, the Goddess sounded dreadful, but he rather liked existing and fighting Gods was a speedy way to die. He didn’t mind Rune’s more violent tendencies, but he’d rather they not get themselves smited. 

“Anyway-” Rune continued, ignoring him. “He’s a sweet man but, well.” They placed the glass on a wooden stump Rune used as a side table and tangled their fingers together. It was something they did when they were being thoughtful. “Gale seems to admire me too much for his own good. I’d ruin him.” 

That was not the answer Astarion was expecting. He sat up on his own bedroll, a feeling of apprehension coming over him.

“And what, you think I’m-” Already ruined? That stung more than Astarion cared to admit, even if it wasn’t surprising. He didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t. Saying it out loud made it seem too concrete, too physical, too noticeable. 

"What! No!” Rune’s eyes grew large and they shook their head violently. They tore their left hand from their right to gesture with and for a moment, Astarion feared for the fate of the wine glass on the table should they accidentally knock it off. With their right hand, they reached out and grabbed Astarion’s hand tightly, while their left reached out for his jaw, pausing a moment so he could turn away should the touch be unwanted. Astarion didn’t protest, and Rune’s hand touched his chin briefly to tilt his head up so he’d meet their eyes. “No, absolutely not. Shit, I could have phrased that better. Gods, no, Astarion, I didn’t mean it that way.”

"And in what way could you mean it?” The sneer in Astarion’s voice wasn’t intentional, but it was better than sounding hurt. 

Rune bit their lower lip, which was something Astarion often found adorable when he was in a better mood. They looked away from him, took a steadying breath, then looked back. “I’d ruin Gale because he’s a hopeless romantic. He’s sweet, but he has a nasty habit of hubris; if faced with an unstoppable problem, he’d burn himself alive to fix it. I’m not saying you’re not smart, or romantic-“

“Or beautiful, don’t forget beautiful.”

Rune chuckled, some tension leaving their shoulders. “That too, as well as quite vain.” Astarion pouted at the addendum but let the sorcerer finish. “I’m saying you’re smart enough to run away.” 

Astarion considered that for a moment. It was certainly better than what he’d originally thought, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was a compliment. What was that supposed to mean? “Are you calling me a coward now?”

Rune smiled, a little sad, and rubbed their thumb across the back of his hand. It was unfamiliar but nice. “No, no, more realistic .” They leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, something they’d previously only done after sex. “I just know you’ll be safe, that’s all. That you wouldn’t hurt yourself for a hopeless cause.” 

Rune jerks again in their sleep, snapping Astarion out of the memory. Thinks of resignation in the sorcerer's eyes that night, how something about it ached. How familiar the sentiment felt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Astarion says as the sorcerer spits out another cruel insult.

He’s shocked to find that he means it. 

HOUR FIVE

Astarion has spent much of life afraid, but he has never been so frightened when the dawn is an hour away and Rune has not stopped twitching.

He thought he was done with this, the idea of caring for others. After the year in the darkness, he’d swore to never care about anyone again except himself because caring was a luxury and he couldn’t even afford to buy new clothes. The tadpole has given him more freedom than he’s had in centuries but as long as Cazador was alive, caring was supposed to be off the table. 

And yet. And yet. 

Astarion intended for Rune to be a means to an end. Someone to wind around his finger like an armor against the world. But Astarion does not find himself panicking when his armor is dented or bruised. Astarion does not spend more time with his armor than necessary so it will not be lonely. Astarion does not worry that should his armor learn it was initially a means to an end of keeping him safe, it will never trust him again.

(This metaphor is rubbish, this Astarion knows. Watching someone you care for deeply scrape their wrists raw makes one less adept in turns of phrases).

For the first time all night, Rune whimpers, a small soft noise that would have frozen Astarion’s heart if it was still beating. Rune doesn’t whimper (well, not unless it was in the fun sort of way). They’re  reluctant to show weakness or accept the comfort they so freely give to others. For them to sound like this-

Astarion reaches forward and when the human doesn't try to bite him, he pushes their white hair back and out of their eyes. They were drenched in sweat, and still clammy. Before he can pull away, they lean into his hand with a sigh, seeking comfort from frozen hands, and Astarion feels his throat tighten.

“This thing can’t have you,” he says, running his thumb against their forehead wrinkles and a faded scar just over their right eyebrow. They are so covered in scars, and each day they risk gaining even more. “It won’t win.”

Rune doesn’t respond to his statement, instead breathing softly. They must have finally worn themselves out to fall asleep. Astarion considers pulling his hand back, he probably should given the threat were they to wake up again, but he finds himself reluctant to do so, instead continuing to gently stroke the sorcerer’s brow with his thumb. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He whisperes. The birds were starting to chirp now, singing their song in anticipation of the sunrise. “Come back to yourself, and I’ll consider telling you. I think that’s a fair bargain.”

DAYBREAK:

Day comes and Rune returns with it. 

They don’t open their eyes right away, tense and still. Astarion can see them rub their hands together and they stiffen further when the sorcerer’s thumb runs across some dried blood on their palm. He doesn’t understand why until the corner of their eyes tighten and they suck in a short breath, a whisper of a sob on the precipice. 

Rune told the entire camp that when Alfira died, they’d woken up in the morning with their hands covered in blood. For them to wake up and find the same sensation present-

“It’s your own blood, darling,” Astarion says, reaching forward to place his hand on their shoulder. Their eyes open wide, and they take him in with a look that Astarion feels like he might be able to name if he lived a kinder existence. “You rubbed your wrists raw enough to bleed, I’m afraid.”

“Astarion,” they said, lips parting, some tension melting from their frame. “You’re alright.” Then, they flinch, pain crossing their features. “Ow, my neck.”

Astarion almost wants to cry at the complaint. “You might have strained it trying to bite me. Do you remember that?”

Given the sudden look of horror on Rune’s expression, they do now. 

Rune explains what they can after Astarion unties them. Most of it are things Astarion already knows; Alfira, the urges, the loss of sleep. The insight about Isobel and the butler is a new one, and he thinks back to the cape in his tent that Rune had shoved onto him like they couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. At the time, Astarion thought the gift was an attempt to curry his favor. He’s not sure how to view the gift with this new context.

“I was wondering why you didn’t want to spend much time enjoying Harper's hospitality,” Astarion muses. He watches as Rune rubs their wrists with their palms, trying to massage out the aches. They will need to see a healer for certain; Astarion knows they’ve been dabbling in the bardic arts but not enough to heal injuries. 

“I thought I couldn’t risk it,” Rune says, moving to pick up the rope. Astarion watches as they cast mending and then pull at each end. When the rope holds firm, they hand it back to Astarion. “I thought the less time I spent around there, the less likely I might slip up.”

“If you’d shared that earlier, I would have grumbled less about the horrors of the great outdoors.”

Rune shoots him an apologetic frown. “I thought telling Isobel would be enough. I never thought-“ They close their eyes briefly and sigh. “I should have considered it a possibility. I’m sorry.” When they open their eyes again, Astarion does not miss how they take a step away from him. They look towards the other tents, avoiding his gaze.

“I should tell the others.”

Astarion reaches forward and grabs their wrist. They pull back for a moment and Astarion loosens his grip to make it clear that’s an option, if they want it. But after a second passes and they don’t pull away, he pulls their hand up to inspect the rope burns and cuts. Their wrists are going to bruise a sickening greenish-yellow. 

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want.” Astarion says, dropping their wrist. He forces a smile, makes sure his fangs are visible. “I can keep a secret.”

Rune’s hand reaches forward and up, like they are going to touch Astarions face, then stops, dropping arruptly. Astarion finds himself disappointed by the lack of contact. How strange. 

“I know you can,” they said. “But they deserve to know that there’s a danger. I can’t hide a monster from everyone.” And with that they head off towards Lae’Zel’s tent, to start gathering everyone for an unpleasant announcement.

It takes Astarion a moment to realize the “monster” they’re talking about is Rune themselves. 

*******************

Rune tells everyone about the night once everyone is up, gathering everyone around the remains of the fire. For someone who might not have slept more than an hour last night, they’re relatively composed as they tell the story, though they don’t look anyone in the eye as is their usual habit. As the tale begins to wind down, Astarion is reluctant to look at their companions either. 

It occurs to Astarion halfway through Rune’s tale something that he should have realized much earlier: he might be content to camp with a sleeping murderer, but other people might object. In fact, most people might protest to such a situation, and he can feel himself grow colder as he realizes a grave mistake.

When Rune woke him last night, Astarion saw someone who needed their help. He’d held off from grabbing anyone else for the sake of Rune’s privacy. But he never considered they might see something else: a monster needing to be exorcized. 

He steps closer to Rune and is very glad they are wearing their gear.  Astarion doesn’t think most of the camp will attack Rune, it would be foolhardy given the prism’s like of their resident sorcerer, but fear makes people foolish and he is not betting Rune’s life. The sorcerer doesn’t appear to be paying much attention to their crowd at all, a rarity for them, speaking of an urge to maim and kill as they stare down at their raw wrists. When they bring their story to a close, their voice is a whisper from overuse.

“And that’s it,” they say, rubbing a thumb over a red mark on their left hand. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, you know that, I just-it escalated so fast. I thought-no I hoped, Alfira was a one off and when I realized otherwise, well-“ A half hearted shrug. “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but that’s all I know.” They look up, exhausted. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I’m terrified it will happen again.”

Rune is looking at Astarion when he says the last part. Astarion knows what they’re trying to say, besides the obvious. The statement is one part apology and one part resignation. Permission for him to run away as fast as possible and not look back.

He should run away, that’s the thing. Or at least consider it. Astarion has spent two centuries desperately wishing for the power to just run away, and now that he has it, he should be taking it as far away from this ruinous sorcerer as possible.

He doesn’t want to. It’s ridiculous, and ludicrous and absurd, but he doesn’t want to. Not because this group offers him the closest thing he has to protection against Cazador, not because the prism might not work if he runs too far, but because the person who is now the greatest threat to his person was also the one who offered him blood when he was starving, who stole him gently used clothes because he had none, who treated him not with pity or condemnation but as a person. 

Astarion has so little he could call his own. But whatever relationship lies between him and Rune mocking poorly painted portraits and trying to solve mystery novels three chapters in was his. He will not throw it away so easily. 

Karlach speaks first. “So, how are we doing this then? I’m thinking about shifts so no one gets too tired?”

“What?” Rune sounds entirely lost and Astarion finds he doesn’t follow either. He watches as Karlach counts everyone in camp off on her fingers.

“Well, there are seven of us total, so we could probably each pick a different day and then rotate who has two shifts each tenday.”

“Do you think one of us would be suitable alone, or should we do pairs,” Lae’Zel adds, looking equally contemplative. A smile starts to spread across Astarion’s face as he realizes what they’re discussing. “Though if Astarion could hand it by himself, pairs might be a wasteful use of manpower.”

“Hey-“ Astarion says but before he can speak further, Wyll chimes in. 

“I can take tonight: I rested earlier last night anyway.”

“Are you guys offering to watch me sleep?” Rune says, staring at everyone with their mouth slightly open. It would be cute if they weren’t so incredulous. 

“Ew, that makes it sound creepy,” Karlach says. “We’re watching you in case you get all stabby again.”

“Do they even know how to properly wield a blade?” Lae’Zel eyes Rune’s arms and raises an eyebrow. “They couldn’t even open a door two days ago.”

For the first time since they’ve woken, Rune sounds something other than exhausted. “That door was solid stone-“

“Rune can wield a blade just fine,” Astarion purrs, trying to hide the relief that this is the result of this conversation. Everyone groans, Rune included.

They hash out the specifics of the rotation after that. No one mentions when Rune rubs at their eyes and takes a shuddering breath, nor do they point out how they cling to Karlach when she pulls them into a hug. Shadowheart offers to take a look at her religious texts to see if this malady might be divine in nature, while Gale offers in turn to message Tara and inquire about some texts he has back in Waterdeep. By the time Astarion and Rune are left alone, there is a full schedule set for watching the sorcerer for fits, with Astarion free to steal any extra should he wish to monopolize their time for himself without watching eyes. Rune looks an odd mix of fond and overwhelmed.

Astarion’s heart twists at that. Was that how he looked, when Rune offered him blood upon being rudely awoken? Was that how Astarion looked the next morning when everyone else learned of his affliction and no one began sharpening a stick?

Gratitude should not hurt so much. 

“I know you said it’s worth the peril but I did mean it, you know. When I said you could run. I won’t take it personally.” Rune says after a moment. They’re looking him in the eye, a sharp contrast to earlier when they were speaking about their urges. 

“You did mention it, yes. You know, you told me it wasn’t an insult but I find myself rather insulted. Do you truly expect me to cut and run?”

Rune’s chin tilts up, their face stoic, but Astarion can hear the hint of a tremble in their voice. “You should.”

Astarion thinks to last night. How Rune had woken him up and in a shaky voice told him that his life was in danger solely due to the sorcerer’s care. A care Rune apparently doesn’t expect to be returned in light of this recent revelation.

Astarion will have to remedy that. Come clean about his whole botched scheme really, which he’s frankly dreading, but some tasks are worth doing despite the mess. Now isn’t the best time but soon. He’s hoping he’ll find the right words soon enough, words that are actually his instead of automatic cloying phrases used over two centuries of hell. To stop feeling like he needs to put on an act.

“I’ve been doing quite a few things I shouldn’t do recently; walking in the sun, leaving the city, snacking on nearby sorcerers,” He turns to Rune and quirks one eyebrow. “I might as well keep at it with such excellent results.”

Rune blushes and chuckles. Their hand is right there, should Astarion wish to take it, but it doesn’t feel right, not until he tells them the entire truth at least. Hopefully it will still be there once the dust has settled.

It might be nice, he thinks, to lace his fingers between theirs and know that he’s doing so solely because he wants to. 

[nerdieforpedro]

Weddings 101 with Dieter

Chapter Three: Meeting the Family

Dieter Bravo x plus size OFC (Maya)

Fanfiction 18+

Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist / Weddings 101 with Dieter Series/ AO3 Link

Word Count: approx 5.2k

Summary: Maya is awoken to Dieter having a vivd dream that benefits both of them. They go off to the separate events, Maya to the start of wedding stuff and Dieter to his golf press appearance. Maya is not enjoying herself at all and Dieter continues his beef with Oscar Issac. Daisy comes through for the win.

Warnings: self-doubt, sexy clouds, Dieter is a grabby menace, grinding, biting, sucking, vivid dreams, mutual masturbation, more bad nicknames, more Oscar Issac slander, body worship, one rouge mushroom, Dieter's MOUTH

Notes: Dieter has been chillin’ in my brain for the last few weeks. After posting chapter two, I started writing chapter 3 and here is where we are. I’m going for a rom-com vibe because Pedro hasn’t been in any and that saddens me greatly. He’d be so good in one! 😫 I’m aware that Pedro and Oscar are best buddies in real-life, I just wanted to add to the comedy for Dieter having a beef another actor and since he got mad about Star Wars last time, it was perfect.

Groggy, Maya opened her eyes, things were blurry and she couldn’t make anything out. She felt warm, maybe even a little hot. Not sure why, it was comfortable so she dozed back to sleep. An hour later, she awoke again, feeling like she had a new lease on life. She didn’t remember any of her dreams, never did, but felt a sense of unexplained joy. When she moved, things became more apparent.

She’s chest to chest with Dieter, laying on top of him. One leg is draped over his hips and her hand is cradling the back of his head. Her face on his chest and hears his heartbeat, surprisingly slow to her. He’s really sleeping comfortably with her weight on him like this. More shocking than that is she didn’t feel like moving. His body was sturdy, not something she imagined when thinking of Dieter. Lips parted slightly as his chest rises and falls, just listening to him soothes her nerves. Maybe this isn’t so bad. I mean I didn’t mean to be in his bed the first night here, but like this isn’t horrible. I wonder if he’d be startled if he woke up right now, wait…what time is it?

Maya recalled what Bravo’s assistant had mentioned yesterday, that he had somewhere to be at noon. Some press thing maybe, but whatever it was, she needed to know the time now. She didn’t hear anyone else in the villa that she could tell so maybe it wasn’t quite time yet. No alarm was going off so it should at least be before eleven. Now the next question, how should she wake him up? Just push his head, pinch him, move her leg, poke him… something may already be poking. No that’s just morning wood, it doesn’t mean what you think it means. Maya took her hand off Dieter’s head and pushed her torso up off of his chest, hearing him groan as she rolled on her back, swinging her leg quickly and brushing his erection.

A soft “Fuck baby,” was heard at the loss of the softness. Dieter was dreaming he was inside a cloud, laying on a bean bag with Kit Kat on top of him. She just was making fun of how goofy his face was with his wide cheerful smile, Just enjoying the sound of her voice as she talked and the pressure from her body, but then she floated away, saying she had to go. He reached for her and was able to wrap his arms around her, pressing his face between her cushiony bosoms instead of her stomach this time. “Shit you can’t get away. This is the best feeling, You can’t go Maya, you’re my Kit Kat dammit.” He heard loud drums suddenly, they scared him so he pressed his face deeper, turning his head side to side, the friction from his beard making his face warm. His lips found what he thought was her breastbone as he kept pressing his nose deeper, tipping his chin up, he extended his tongue and licked, tasting a mix of skin, sweat. He mumbled something into her chest and started to alternate between sucking and nibbling. The tempo of the drums changed from sounding like timpani (large orchestra drum) to snare drums that were uneven. They complemented the low sighs he heard, encouraging him to only suck harder and branch out toward her breasts. Once he did, the sighs transformed into moans, the back of his head had a familiar pressure on it from four to five different small points and his back was being raked by something sharp. It didn’t matter, all of it was euphoric, Dieter had never had a dream like this.

“Sweet Lips…sta- shit that feels good…” Her moans continued, she wrapped her arms around his head, to keep his head at her breasts. Maya’s thighs pressed together, she expected to be able to get out the bed but now she was participating in whatever dream Dieter seemed to be having. A dream about her. She was pleasantly surprised, but worried, she still didn’t know what time it was and didn’t want the assistant or anyone else walking in and seeing them like this. Bravo had pulled up her shirt and bra to access her breasts, it was why she thought he was awake, but despite her increasing moans and calling his name, he didn’t respond, just kept sucking and teasing her. She knew whenever she did get up, she’d need to wash her panties and shorts as they were soaked. His hardness kept grazing her knee and thigh, moist with what was likely his own precum. “Fuck, it’s just there…Dieter it’s not fair…Mmm…” He grazed her nipple with his teeth and she yelped, digging her fingers into his scalp before grabbing the base of his neck. Using her thighs, she was able to provide some friction to his cock as he kneaded and suckled on her breasts.

While Dieter was trapped within the warmth of his Kit Kat cloud, he felt the pressure of a firm water mattress around his cock. The fabric of his pants were a hindrance in identifying the true nature of the presence he felt providing his throbbing member some relief. His hips started to jerk as he grew closer to his release, moving faster the more he heard cursing along with his name. He managed to work both nipples into his mouth as he climaxed into his pants and onto the warm water bed. Taking his head from the breasts he was so fond off, his world view began to change

He was on a mattress, but there were no water or clouds, instead there were pillows, sheets and Maya. Her shirt was raised along with her bra and her breasts were slightly swollen and in his hands as he still massaged them gently. His face cooled from the departure as he looked up at a wondrous sight, Maya panting looking down at him, her eyes fluttering trying to focus but unable to. Her hand was on his neck. He looked down and his pants were wet with not only his spend, but some of hers that had leaked from her shorts. Dieter was conflicted, he was coming down from an excellent sex dream induced high that he had acted out with the person he had been dreaming about. The question was, is she okay with what he did? He wasn’t sure if the effects of Molly had worn off yet and she was perhaps more sensitive and hadn’t been alright at all with him touching her. “Maya, are you alright? I was having an intense dream and it looks like I-”

“Dee, you’re not fair at all. How the hell are you going to be so good at that while asleep?! It’s not right, I’ve never been happier about having sore breasts.” Maya sighed and cupped his cheek. She giggled and he exhaled, that’s one elephant out of the room, the second would be equally as worrisome. “I felt more sensitive. Is that because of the juice I drank last night? What was in there?” Dieter closed his eyes and placed a hand on her hip, pulling her shirt down. Her breasts were distracting and this needed to be said with the proper attention, though he was surprised that she remembered feeling off and drinking the juice, did she remember what she told him last night?

“Well that juice was supposed to be for my two day golf press tour. I show up, take pictures and do some autographs. It’s boring but pays well. I drink my juice spiked with some Molly to put me in a better mood for it.” He explained, his fingers tapping to the drums he had heard in his dream. 

“Ah that explains it. I felt real giggly and very bendy? Flexible? No.” She paused, trying to find the right word to describe it. She had sensed something was off, but didn’t mind it. She recalled drinking a lot of water as well too. “Open! That’s the right word! Open to any and everything. It’s a fun feeling like someone took out all my worries, but scary now that I think about it. Anyway I should have asked what was in your fridge given you told me that it was the most fun you’d had just by drinking.” Her laugh told Dieter that maybe things were alright for now, he didn’t need to ask about what she mentioned in the kitchen. Her soft lips kissed his head as she rolled away from him, popping up out of the bed. Scanning the room, Maya didn’t see a clock at the bedside or on the wall. She also didn’t see her phone either. It turned out she was in her room instead of Dieter’s so it should be in here. Maybe she left it downstairs after setting the alarm. 

Dieter got up on all fours and crawled to the edge of the bed, “Looking for something?” He wiggles his butt as Maya turns and she giggled, using a finger to poke his forehead. 

“I’m looking for my phone, a clock or any indication of time. You have to be showered and dressed by noon and I should be getting to the introductory brunch with everyone.” Her hand went to his curls, using her nails to run along his scalp and she was sure he purred. Dieter lowered his head to allow her to continue, a low hum mixed in with the purrs. “Enjoy that my fluffy boy? I can massage it more later tonight.” She paused, “Oh! Sugar Li-“

“Fluffy boy or Dieter is perfect Maya.” He ran his palm along the forearm of her hand that was atop his head, he looked up and smirked, “That’s a promise Kit Kat. I’ll hold you to it. Ask me if I enjoy it again. Say my name this time.” He moved closer to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her hips, his cheek on her stomach, listening as it churned with hunger. He gave it a swift peck and nuzzled into her belly further.

This time, she used both hands to graze the top of his head, feeling his soft curls and spotting flashes of gray within the chocolate brown. She looked down, resisting the urge to pull him up and take his lips, he appeared content to hold her. Maya took a quiet rasp, closing her eyes as she explored his crown, “Do you enjoy my fingers grazing your scalp Dieter?”

“Abso-fuckin’…Yes. Yes.” Bravo panted, his hand trailed from her lower back to her round ass, filling his hand and started to knead it as he had her breasts. “Maya, what time do you absolutely need to be at that family brunch thing?” His face emerged out of her belly and peered up at her, his eyes pleading. If she came with him, he might not need the orange juice for the press interactions, though he may inspire other questions that had nothing to do with his projects. She cupped his face and opened her eyes, Maya felt she could be too easily swayed by his eyes so she focused on his lips and how pink they were. Also a bad move. 

“Need to be there by one. You can stop by after your press thing. After brunch, there’s going to just going to be some family gathering stuff and then I plan to make it an early dinner so I can bail. Though I’ll need to bring the bridesmaid dress because my mother and the bride’s mother will want to see all of us in them.” A long sigh followed. He could tell she wasn't looking forward to this at all, was it the dress itself, the people, the comparison with the other bridesmaids, both mothers? He’ll see how long he’d need to be at the golf event and as soon as he can, he’s getting out of there to come get Maya out of there. “You need to get ready though, then I can get ready.” An empty chuckle left her lips as she released his head and Dieter followed suit and let her go. He rolled to his side of the bed and retrieved his phone. It was only half after ten. He let her know and went downstairs to heat up the pizza and eat it, Maya found her phone on the kitchen island, it was at five percent so she plugged it in when she went up to her room briefly. 

Sitting and eating pizza together, they laughed and Dieter pouted when she brought up Oscar Issac again. He threw a mushroom at her, hitting her arm. She picked it off and ate it as they played around and ate. Finally when they finished, they went to their respective rooms and showered. Dieter put on a button down short sleeve shirt that was split down the middle - one half had zebra print and the other half had cheetah print on it. Daisy, who had been MIA the entire night nipped at Dieter’s ankles before he slipped on his gray boxer briefs, the elastic settling just under his round pouch of a belly and sitting on his hips. He picked up the goat and kissed her forehead. “You traitor. You left me last night. Still love you though.” The small goat baahed at him and licked his chin, its rough tongue made him laugh. He needed to pick out pants though, he didn’t really care so he pulled out a black pair when he heard a soft knock at his door. “Come in, you don’t need to knock Kit Kat. It’s only us two here and Daisy.”

Retrieving his black slacks, he set Daisy on the bed and the pants as well before sitting on the bed and putting on some white socks and his pants. He had the pants around his knees when he turned to see Maya who stood in the doorway looking away shyly. A grin crossed his face and her spun around and pulled the back of his shirt up, wiggling his ass at her. He heard her laugh, “Better than Oscar’s right?” She shook her head and he pulled up his pants and buttoned them, bitting his lips in frustration.

“Objectively I can’t lie to you Sugar Lips.” Maya chuckled, walking to sit on the bed and pet Daisy. She wore a dress that had a deep V in front, the base was white and it had lines of gold, green, brown ovals and various splashes of orange. It was nearly to the floor so only her feet poked out when she walked. Her hair was pinned up in a neat bun and she wore gold earrings. It was the fuchsia color on her lips that drew the most attention, it made her lips appear fuller then they already were. “But you’ve got other things Oscar doesn’t so don’t fret so much and I’ll try not to tease you about it.”

Dieter plopped down next to her as Daisy hopped to the floor, sauntering around. “What other things huh? And with that lipstick, I should call you Sugar Lips.” He laid his hand over hers and he remembered, “I don’t have your number Maya. I can’t send you pictures of Daisy or eggplant emojis.” 

“You’re impossible. It can’t just be texts and memes? Eggplants, really?” 

“Yeah and maybe some of the things that might be better than that man. Stupid bubble butt.” He stood to retrieve his phone and sat back down, unlocked it and handed it to Maya. “Put your number in and save yourself as…” He thought for a moment. 

“Mi Reina (My queen).” 

“Oh? What does that mean?” She did as he asked and entered her number and saved it.

Bravo laid his head on her shoulder and spoke into her ear, “I’ll tell you tonight while you’re rubbing my head again and I’m in your lap.” He licked her earlobe and scooped up Daisy who had returned, making his way to the door. One hand sent her a text to ensure she has his number too. “Let me know what you save me as Kit Kat. We should head downstairs. It’s eleven thirty.” The grin never left his face and he felt confident he had enticed her enough. Maya stopped on the way down to grab her phone, purse, brown sandals and a garment bag before meeting Dieter downstairs on the living room couch. Draping the bag over the back of the couch she sat next to Dieter and cut her eyes at him.

“Despite you being impossible at times,” Her hand touched her cool earlobe that previously had his tongue on it, “it’s also one of the charms you possess, Dieter.”

“I have charms now? Not just impossible?”

“You know you do. That mouth of yours is- ” Dieter places one hand at the side of her thighs and parted his lips after licking them. 

“My mouth is what, Maya?” He taunts, he leans like he’s going to kiss her but stops. “I can’t mess up your lipstick of course. Tell me what it does for you bebita (baby girl).” Lips graze her neck and his hands move up to her thighs, his tongue trails down to just above her breasts. Warm breath against her skin, her hands snaked to hold his soft sides. “Let me hear what I heard this morning. I’ll be thinking about it while answering those asinine questions. Por favor (please).” His chin touched her breast and he groaned, hearing Maya trying to stifle her moans only had him press his fingers into her thighs more. Dieter used his teeth to nibble gently on her breast which made her finally give him what he wanted, a deep bellow of pleasure. 

“Your mouth is dangerous, shit Dieter. Please, it’s almost time-” One hand was moving up to his head but she stopped herself and just held the back of his neck. She couldn’t pull him away, her back was curving into his face.

“Just a little longer cariño (dear).” His teeth started on her other breasts softly nibbling before a ‘swip’ was heard. Dieter stopped and peered over the back of the couch. Daisy had tugged on Maya’s garment bag and pulled it to the floor. “Daisy, you really are a traitor.” he reluctantly stood up and picked up the garment bag, draping it back over the couch as Maya straightened her dress back out.

“Daisy’s helping both of us out. That should be saved for when we’re alone.” Zack and two drivers were making their way in the villa. Dieter hadn’t heard them come in at all. The click of his tongue told the assistant that he likely had interrupted something but there was a schedule to keep. 

“Um, sir. Sorry to interrupt, but we should leave. Good morning Ms. Maya.” He smiled brightly. Dieter sighed and gave Kit Kat a peck on the cheek, she took his hand and whispered to him,

“I think I’m going to move up the time table on fucking you Sugar Lips.” Bravo’s eyes widened, she remembered saying that? Maya’s other hand gave his ass a solid squeeze. “For the record, I like your ass better than Oscar’s.” With that, she walked out with one of the drivers who carried her purse and garment bag as she hopped in the car and departed. Zack gave his boss a few minutes, thankfully he had built in time just in case the award winner wasn’t ready, but he ended up clearing his throat to bring Dieter back to reality. He made sure to grab his orange juice on the way out. The star followed his assistant and sat in the back of the car with Daisy, uncomfortably hard and looking out the window thinking of a way to bail on this event and drop by that brunch.

Maya wasn’t fairing much better, shifting around in the back of the car as the villa disappeared behind her. Her hands ran along the garment bag and then her thighs where Dieter’s hands had been. “Smooth bastard. I’ll need to see if they have a CVS or Walgreens here for some condoms. I can’t get it out of my head from this morning. I won’t tease him as much when I get back.” A soft smile graced her lips as she watched the trees slowly change into buildings, getting closer to the hotel. The Hilton was a nice hotel yes, but she was only looking forward to seeing her mother, father and brothers. Both sides of the now joining family proved to be insufferable at the engagement and bridal shower. It’s why she skipped the bachelorette party, a fact that the bride’s mother never failed to mention. 

Arriving at the hotel in a black audi did give her an air of satisfaction as some of the family members watched her walk in, her white dress with its pattern flowing behind her in the warm sun. Maya made her way to the main room where she knew brunch was in progress and spotted her mother, making a bee line for the short woman in her four inch heels, gray dress and gold bangles and rings. She wore them due to the residual effects of her rheumatoid arthritis but moved like a woman thirty years her junior.

“Hey Sweetie! You made it! I love the lipstick. I wasn’t sure about the dress but it suits you. You look like you’re floating.” They embraced and shared a hug, rocking side to side before they parted, holding each other’s hands. 

“Hey ma, you look beautiful. There still some food around?” Maya asked and her mother shook her head. ‘This child’ she likely thought, but she did notice a small red mark at the top one of her breasts.

“I think someone may have eaten you. You have any concealer Maya? If not, I can grab you some before they come over.” She dropped her hands and walked over to a chair where her purse was a few feet away. Removing a sponge and some liquid makeup, swished her hand to indicate for her to hold her dress to the side slightly to apply the makeup. She did and blended it out with the sponge, once happy with her work, then had Maya adjust her dress again. “Is whoever this is here or coming to the wedding?”

A long sigh left Kit Kat’s lips, “Maybe, I don’t know about today, but probably later this week. He’s…different. But it’s good I think.” Maya’s mother watches as a smile crept along her face, whoever it was, this man was someone who made her happy, which was very good.

“Well, go get some food and eat. The family’s going to bop around a bit more and then they want to do the final fitting for the bridesmaid dresses. Why it couldn’t be done weeks ago is beyond me? She maybe shouldn’t have changed colors so many times.” Her mother began to gripe but stopped when she saw the look in her daughter’s face. It wasn’t the time, the complaining could happen after things were said and done. She went to track down her husband who was taking advantage of the free wine samples offered until two in the afternoon. It was one forty five so he was entitled to a full fifteen minutes of wine drinking and would not accept anything less. 

Maya went to eat some sausage, eggs, and pancakes, grabbing two of each as she had eaten pizza already this morning. It was then that the bride appeared, greeting her warmly. She wasn’t a mean or annoying woman. Well, a little annoying, but only because she didn’t listen to any of the suggestions. Which yes, it’s her wedding, Maya understood that, but she wasn’t the only larger bridesmaid and the three of them with Maya included, weren’t into the strapless design or the dress being made in lace with a slip under it. You’re in Hawaii, in a humid ass place and needed to wear shapewear in addition to a tight dress was….now you sound like your mother.

The two women hugged and briefly chatted about the trip over here. The bride said hers was smooth and really enjoyed spending time with Michael, Maya’s brother. Nodding, Maya stated that her journey here had a few hiccups but turned out to be great, knowing that she wouldn't ask any further. Maya slowly ate her food, knowing that the fitting was imminent and followed Elyssa, the bride, up to one of the eighth floor rooms where all the other bridesmaids were waiting. None of them looked excited or even tried to keep a neutral face. What had happened?

“We’re going with another new color and style ladies!” Elyssa said excitedly, everyone groaned simultaneously. This fitting just became infinitely worse.

Dieter was trying to hold off on drinking his juice. He wanted to save it for either a really tiresome interview or if he had to talk to anyone about whoever the hell was playing golf. He didn’t care, he was here because they wanted to use his appearance to promote the tournament and he could talk about some of the projects he was producing. He hadn’t found any roles recently that he wanted to be a part of since the Cliff Beasts fiasco and into writing, painting and producing. He was talking with one interviewer who was asking about some of his artwork, someone who actually bothered to do some research. It was a fun conversation, until that douche popped up. Was he even supposed to be here?

Oscar Issac - who beat him out for the Star Wars role he wanted and could frustratingly play guitar and sing. This bastard who won some nonsense poll about who had better curls between Bravo and Issac and was sporting a full well-groomed beard with splashes of gray in it. And now some other interview has mentioned his ‘cakes’ from the last movie Oscar did where he spends a fair amount with no pants on. Dieter may be in a one-sided beef with the man, but he was going to keep calm. Be cool. Just grab his orange juice to chill out. 

His assistant Zack had it though and he wasn’t nearby. “Fuck.” Dieter muttered under his breath as Oscar walked over, opening his arms for a hug. Turning on the charm, he hugged him back and patted his back, a little too hard. 

“Hey Bravo, how are you? I heard you might be here. It’s good to see you.” A pearly white smile beamed from him. Go away. I want nothing to do with you.

“Fine. Just interviews and press. What’s new with you Issac? Singing about some more hippos?” Dieter meant it to be playful, but the vitriol was clear. Oscar picked up on it and he smirked, his eyebrows raising.

“Did another stint on broadway. You ever think trying it out Bravo?” Oscar stepped closer to Dieter,  “Oh, that’s right, you’ve flamed out and can’t hack it anymore. Doing your little scribbles and paints. Cabrón (bastard).” Dieter sucked his teeth, tapping his foot as fists formed at his sides. Wasn’t one sided after all, arrogant bastard. The camera around them snapped pictures of the two men smiling and talking, unaware of the battle for the last word taking place. Daisy trotted over and took her place near Bravo’s feet. 

Oscar bent down to pet Daisy which she allowed and Dieter followed suit, it was an excellent photo op, the pair of them with a baby goat. After a few pictures, Daisy walked a foot away and the two men continued taking pictures flashing peace signs while crouched. 

“Say what you will about my acting, but my art has already made millions and I can do it well after I retire from acting. What are you gonna do? Hop on a Christmas album with Mariah Carey when she re-emerges this winter?” Dieter continued as he stood back up beaming, “You and your hippos can only dream hijo de punta (son of a bitch).” Bravo waved to the cameras, when Oscar went to stand he was met with pain. 

Not from his knees, but a bite from one Daisy who maybe was going after the back pocket of his suit pants, but got a chunk of his ass in addition to the pocket. Issac let out a loud scream as Dieter laughed, this was the best thing to ever happen at a press event. It wasn’t long before he was escorted out with his goat, assistant, and his juice he never got to drink. The organizers confirmed that yes, he would still be paid as had done the interview and pictures and that’s mainly what he needed to know, as great as it was to see Oscar finally get his, he didn’t show up there for free. 

“Tell the driver to go to the Hilton hotel. I have someone to surprise. Isn’t that right Daisy? You’re not a traitor afterall. I hope you get the taste out of your mouth.” Dieter turned to his assistant Zack who just told the driver the address of the Hilton. “You got a snack for Daisy? She couldn’t have Oscar’s taste on her lips.” His large hand rubbed the goat’s head as she softly baahed and nuzzled into his chest. Zack got out a bag that had some snacks, giving the goat some carrots to nibble on. He held onto the small animal for Dieter as he hopped out of the SUV once the arrived at the hotel. He entered and asked at the front desk about a wedding party, they pointed him in the direction of the grand ballroom where some people were standing around, some were dancing and others were eating. It seemed that they may be in between events but he didn’t see her. He knew she’d be easy to pick out in the dress he saw this morning and her figure alone. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he turned to see the top of a head so he looked down.

“You looking for someone? Are you a guest of someone hun?” A warm voice asked him, he looked down to see an older woman with reddish brown hair looking up at him with a smile. Dieter noted that she had a ring on nearly every finger and multiple bracelets on both wrists. He nodded and she chuckled, it was similar to Maya.

“I am. Would you happen to be related to Maya?” he asked as she lowered her hand, she now wore a navy blue dress with suede heels, three inches this time.

“I’m her mother, Yvette. I take it she’s staying with you. She wasn’t sure if you were coming or not. Glad that you made it.” She started to walk down a hallway. “Follow me, I’ll show you where she is. Your name hun?” Ms. Yvette looked back and Dieter scratched the back of his head, he figured things would be fine. Meeting her mom was a little weird, but it was her brother’s wedding, he’d been hoping Maya would be with him when he met her but it didn’t appear bad yet. Dieter and Yvette rode the elevator to the eighth floor where the fittings had still been taking place.

Previous: Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Four

The tag list: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @sp00kymulderr @linzels-blog @joelmillers-whore @guelyury @laurfilijames @missladym1981 @pamasaur @alltheglitterandtheroar @din-djarins-riduur @daddy-dins-girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl @saturn-rings-writes @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @musings-of-a-rose @soft-persephone @javierpena-inatacvest @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @magpiepills @handspunyarns @i-own-loki

[padawansuggest]

Explained what a surface nap (my definition of what I’ve always called it) to my sis and gf a bit ago. Halfway through explaining it I was all ‘Bam this is so simple why you explaining it??’ And then Babe and Sis weee like ‘???????’

Anyway. Turns out that might have been an autistic superpower.

You know how some picky eaters can tell when you change a single ingredient out of hundreds in a safe-food. Yeah, I’m not that, but I’m like that. But only with my sleeping situation.

I sleep with two comforters, 7 pillows minimum, sometimes a fuzzy blanket or two, sometimes a squishmallow propping up an arm, never on my stomach, and with two (not one; but two) of those ear muffs you buy that’s a headband??? Yeah I get two of those, put them on my head and it covers both my ears and eyes to muffle sound and block all light. It’s important to have both pressure and muffling. These are only the physical requirements to being able to sleep lol I’m so picky as a whole.

Anyways. How do I take a surface nap? I take the comforters, lay them over top the 3 (yes, three, all condensed into one pillowcase) pillows that I always stick under my knees (alleviates back pain for my messed up spine) and lay on top of all of it, comforters included.

So what do I cover myself with? A fuzzy blanket (actually two, one on my legs and one on my body so I can ditch one half and keep the other at any point) and my regular sleep mask.

Because. I fucking know if my legs are higher than normal, and my blankets aren’t smooth. I fucking KNOW.

Why does this create a surface nap experience? Because I am literally incapable of not thinking about it, even in my sleep. I literally dreamt of Fuzzy World while I tried to find out why things were fuzzy and no longer smooth. My brain did NOT let that go. This means your brain won’t be deep at all if you have to wake up in less than 2 hours off of 21 awake already.

Also change your alarm tone to a song already!!!! Not a loud one, but like a super soft one, it’ll take your brain a few seconds to catch up that it’s a song and then you’re all ‘wait, what?’ This probably doesn’t work if your a clubber or something idk y’all fuck up your ears too much.

I went from solidly asleep to fully awake in less than 4 minutes. That’s impressive for me.

I have now consulted 3 whole people and they said this method is batshit I’m dead 😭😭😭 I thought I was stupidly explaining a well known idea lmao

Okay here you go for those of you who physically cannot sleep for less than 4 hours without intervention like me (insomnia and fatigue mixture is a wild ass crackhead cocktail) and are sensitive to your surroundings while sleeping.

[afterthegreatunknown]

it's like you and me are lovers

Rating: Mature

Important Notes On Rating: Past Rape/Non-Con, Racism, Period Typical Racism (1980s Period Because I Headcanon So), Racial Slurs

Additional Notes: Pre-Canon (Pre-ASOUE), Post-Canon (Post-ATWQ, Post-ASOUE), Swearing, Fantasizing, Violence, Drunkenness, Breakfast, Bonding, Guilt, Self-Blaming, Hurt/Comfort, Headcanons Gone Out of Control

[AO3 Chapter Four link is here.]

(many times I've been alone)

One nice thing about having a broken internal alarm clock is that when you want to wake up deliberately in the early mornings, you do just that. While you still feel groggily from leaving a wonderful sleep, at least you know that it’s something you planned.

This however, isn’t one of those times.

“Urg…”

Widdershins rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands, and gives another groan. Maybe it’s because he’s finally sleeping on a comfortable bed in such a long time, but Widdershins for once in his life, wants to go back to sleep for just a bit longer.

His body isn’t made to do that anymore.

Widdershins blinks a few times as he stretches his arms upward, and soon forces himself to sit properly upward on the bed. He turns his head to the right, and looks upward to the clock on the wall. Last time he looked at it, it was half an hour before eleven. Now it’s five o’clock even. He got a total of six and a half hours of sleep last night.

Well, it’s better than his usual four hours. Widdershins slowly rolls his neck around a few times, and then scratches a spot near his left sideburn. Not because it’s itchy, but because he has the habit of doing so whenever waking up.

For some reason, he has the urge to turn to left. Widdershins turns his head, and quickly stops his scratching as he stares at the sight before him:

It’s an empty left side.

A neatly made empty left side.

A very neatly made empty left side, with no creases and wrinkles.

Widdershins throws the comforter, bedspread, and top sheet off.

A perfectly smooth top of the bed means that it’s never touch.

Not being touch means Hector didn’t sleep in their room last night.

“That son of a—” Widdershins doesn’t even attempt to finish that sentence. He gets off the bed, grips a few locks of his bang hairs, and gives an unintelligible shriek of anger. He then paces around counter-clockwise in a small circle, and soon quickly drops his hands.

“I swear,” says Widdershins, “I’m going to drag that handyman to bed! Aye! Forcibly tuck him in if I have too! To think he is sleeping elsewhere, yet wouldn’t allow me to do so!”

Widdershins continues to fume away at the situation at hand as he walks to the door. He grabs the doorknob, and holds it tightly, as if he’s ready to pull it off. “What’s the point of insisting so many times in the past to share a bed if he done what I did! Aye! And even after I told him my reasonings, he went off to do this! Aye! What a hypocrite! Aye! What a liar! Aye! What an idiot! Well, maybe not an idiot, given our history together! Aye! But I still stand by everything else!”

He twists the doorknob, and soon opens the door. Widdershins didn’t have to walk too far to figure out where Hector is sleeping in: the bathroom, which is about two feet away from the bedroom across the hallway. The bathroom door is open by a few inches, and the lights are off.

“And he didn’t even attempt to close the door! Aye! At all! Aye! Why not attempt to make it seem he’s sleeping anywhere else but the damn bathroom!?”

Widdershins pushes the door strongly. Not strongly enough for the door to hit the wall and make a bang that would wake Hector up. Widdershins of course wants to give Hector a piece of his mind, but he wants to make the ruckus, not the door itself.

Widdershins pushes the door strongly enough though, to make several glass bottles to clink into one another, and fall onto the tile floor. One bottle he thinks might even have become broken.

And it’s the glass bottles clinking and falling that has Widdershins breaking the pedal of his still-in-progress plan of a strongly worded speech regarding Hector’s hypocritical behavior. 

Widdershins quietly takes one careful barefoot step into the bathroom, and then another. He walks, but stays near the wall of the room, keeping a hand on the wall. When he feels his fingers touching the familiar light switch, Widdershins flips on the light.

The bathroom, unlike most motel bathrooms, has a whirlpool bathtub in addition to having a sink with soap, toilet, and shower. And the whirlpool bathtub has a single occupant inside, sleeping uncomfortably in a sitting position, with his legs dangling out from the sides.

Looking down at the bathroom tile floor, Widdershins is happy to see that his speculation from earlier is wrong. Two of the six bottles —that’s right, six bottles— fell during the fall, but neither are broken. In fact, the other four empty beer bottles are safely inside their cardboard carrier.

Regarding the beer itself, it’s one the most popular Mexican beers that gets imported into the Land of Districts and elsewhere, sold at grocery stores and gas stations. The logo is of a black eagle spreading its wings, with the capitalize ‘T’ being right smack in the middle. The label Widdershins sees is red, indicating it’s the brand’s regular beer.

It’s a red label that Widdershins knows well due to it being someone’s favorite beer, ever since the day he became of legal drinking age. Hell, Widdershins even gave the cash to his associate on that day, because Widdershins at the time thought, “Well, it’s the birthday boy’s special day. It’s only right to make sure it remains that.”

Said someone tries to have the sense to not drink more than one bottle—or can, if that’s only available. And even then, he never drinks his beer without eating food. The associate said that getting plastered from this brand of beer is something no one should do.

So, the fact that Hector got himself drunk on half-dozen beers of a brand Gregor used to drink from has Widdershins worrying. Widdershins is worry, and has no idea what to do.

Given the man’s skittish nature, Hector could be the drunk that is for a lack of better word, passive. The passive, confused drunk who will cause little to no trouble. Widdershins could wake Hector up with a small shake without trouble, and convince him to sleep in a proper bed.

But Hector also has a particular trait he does best to keep hidden. It’s a trait that Widdershins feels would make an appearance if he wakes a drunken Hector up. There’s a chance that Hector won’t hold back. Hector’s pent-up frustrations will be free at last.

Such is the dichotomy of dealing with an inebriated associate one knows well.

Widdershins isn’t sure how long he stands there, but it feels like a long time. Widdershins stands there, with one hand in his pajama pocket, while the other hand curls one end of his mustache. He stands there, thinking over the dilemma, and the two possible outcomes.

Widdershins somehow finds himself glancing back down at the tile floor. He couldn’t help but glare at the six empty glass bottles. He can’t stand the sight of those poisonous empty bottles anymore. Without hesitation, Widdershins quietly makes his way to the two bottles on the floor. He carefully picks them up, placing them back into the cardboard carrier with the others.

As he stands back up, Widdershins takes a moment to stare at Hector.

Despite wanting to say that the disgruntle, angry expression on Hector’s face is due to his sleeping position, Widdershins knows that would be a lie. Perhaps it’s creepy, but Widdershins seen Hector sleeping one too many times this past week to know the meaning behind it.

The disgruntle, angry expression on Hector’s face is all because of what the organization threw at him, from childhood to young adulthood. The disgruntle, angry expression is one that truly came to be about sixteen years ago, from an event that changed Hector’s life forever. It’s of an expression of a man being on his guard. It’s of suspicion, of being unsure who to trust.

“To think I know why you’re unable to be at peace, especially when you ought to be,” whispers Widdershins, setting the entire carrier onto the bathroom sink counter.

Widdershins soon finds himself hovering over the whirlpool tub, and bends down in order to be at Hector’s current level. He outreaches his arm, and places a hand over Hector’s shoulder.

[aajjks]

BC!JK

you raise one of your eyebrows “are you asking me to stay the night jungkook?” you ask after jungkook mentions that some of your stuff like your body wash, lotions, and other minor belongings were left here the last time you stayed with him. now that you think about it, you might’ve left a lot of your essentials here because all you did was pack your clothes, your charger, and left his home as quickly as you could.

you’re sure the only way he knows is because he went behind you to clean your stuff out but he never threw them away. it makes you wonder if he knew you’d come back to him someday and kept your stuff there just in case. or maybe he used them.

“i guess i could sleep in the guest room” you yawn “thanks, jungkook” you kiss your boyfriend on his cheek before telling him you’ll set an alarm to wake you up in an hour so you don’t end up sleeping the rest of the evening. funnily enough, bam is the one who tails behind you and you allow bam to join you for your nap leaving jungkook alone with sage.

you take your glasses off and place them on the nightstand and the moment you lay on the soft king sized bed, you were asleep, completely forgetting to set an alarm.

you slept from 3:15 to 5:30 and although you feel refreshed, you slept for more than an hour and you’re worried jungkook might be upset that you didn’t keep your word on setting your alarm.

when you look for bam, bam is nowhere to be found which means jungkook came to get him at some point. you groggily stretch your limbs and walk to the bathroom to run your fingers through your messy hair. after that, you leave the bedroom to locate jungkook, completely forgetting your glasses on the nightstand so anything too far is a blur but you don’t need your lenses to locate him.

“jungkook?” you say as you walk to the living room but he isn’t there. he’s not even in the kitchen. when you locate your phone to see if he texted you that he left, there’s nothing there.

“okay, jungkook this isn’t funny. where are you?” you call jungkook’s phone but no answer.

“what the hell? jungkook? jung—AAH!!” you shriek when jungkook comes behind you to scare you.

“jungkook!!! that was not funny!! you really scared me!! you know i get scared easily” you whine as he just laughs his ass off.

Its so much fun to catch you off guard, the way you react, he cannot stop scaring you, but he also doesn’t want you to get a heart attack right now you look like you almost got one.

Yet your boyfriend cannot stop laughing at your reaction. Why are you so adorable? You’re going to give him a heart attack with the adorable way of reacting to things someday, so Jungkook still laughing, like an idiot when he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs from behind. “I-It’s okay yn I am sorry I was in the bathroom, but when I heard you looking for me, I had this evil thought of scaring you from behind!” He is laughing, why are you so good?

OK he really needs to stop laughing before you break up with him. “Okay okay please don’t leave me but I’m gonna stop doing this.” he put his hands in a surrender manner. “Yn I’m actually glad that you had some sleep…. Good for you.” He takes your hand and guide you to his bedroom.

Yeah, bedroom to bedroom, nice.

“ why don’t you have dinner with me tonight? It’s just 6 PM right now so you should stay! It’s not like you have a child somewhere to take care of at home huh?” His humor is really dark and bad but you’ll have to get used to this.

“I actually left my child.” He jokes, and you gasp at that why are you so easy to GET?! “Yn you would be a great stepmother to him!” He continues to mess with you, man you’re so adorable.

He’s never gonna get tired of joking around with you and giving you many heart attacks in the most humorous way possible.

“He’s cute, he’s 4.”

[halotopicecream]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐀𝐭𝐳 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐅𝐭: Poly!Ateez x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, crack

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluffy, polyamorous relationship, mention of insomnia

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨’𝐬 𝐅𝐀𝐐: and hereessssss… my first post on tumblr that I really put thought into! Hurray! I hope whoever reads this has a lovely day/night♡︎

In you morning you don’t even use an alarm… because Jongho will always do you the pleasure of belting whatever song comes to mind to wake you up

When you ask Mingi to grab something off of a high shelf for you, he looks down at you with those big puppy dog eyes and says “you need me?”🥺

Seonghwa took the title of blanket boyfriend because he was always the one to throw himself over you like one

He gets pouty when anyone else does it and takes his well earned position

He gets pouty when anyone else does it and takes his well earned position

Hongjoong had made it a habit to have his hand resting on your knee whenever he sits next to you

You, San and Wooyoung are the official protect Yeosang squad who protect his cuteness and faint when he does something hot

When Yunho catches you staring at his hands he shoves them in your face and pushes you face back and starts singing ‘how you like that’

San went through a vampire phase and to this day he still bites you for no reason

WHEN YOU’RE SAD JONGHO PUTS ON A TEDDY BEAR COSTUME AND LETS YOU CUDDLE HIM FOR HOWEVER LONG YOU WANT

You don’t know what to wear out? Easy, just ask Hongjoong he’s literally already sitting in your room

When you guys play hide and seek Yeosang always hides in your closet. You don’t know why but he always says it’s because it’s so messy no one will look there

But it’s really bc he likes the way you smell

Doesn’t matter what hair type you have, Seonghwa can AND WILL braid your hair

He’ll watch hour long tutorials if he has too

You spend so much time with Yunho when your allergies are acting up he things you gave him your allergies

You two even sneeze in sync… it’s weird

San’s that bf that will sit in a pool with you for hours just so he has an excuse to grab your bikinied ass in public saying he’s ‘holding onto you so you don’t drown’

YOU AND MINGI DO MORNING STRETCHES TOGETHER EVERY MORNING BEFORE THEY LEAVE FOR THE STUDIO🥺

Wooyoung has molded you into being his partner in crime and you cannot get out without him pouting

When Yeosang and Jongho find a book they think you’d like to read with them you all sit in your bed and read it together when you have time🥺

Yeosang blows out your birthday candles if you start taking to long

WHEN HONGJOONG STARTS FEELING POSSESSIVE HE SWITCHES YOU BODY WASH TO HIS SO YOU SMELL LIKE HIM AND ANYONE WHO’S NOT ONE OF YOUR BF’S WILL KNOW YOU’RE HIS

You and Mingi bought a pair of those magnetic rings so instead of holding hands in public you hold each other’s pinkie finger and let the rings stick to each

Yunho always asks for your opinion of his dance to a new choreo so he has always had an honest opinion

Someone once asked if Jongho was your body guard instead did your bf and now he takes great pride in that

You always walk arm in arm with him instead of hand in hand

When any of them are stressed you all get into a big cuddle pile and watch stupid comedy movies to lift their spirits

You and Seonghwa are the breakfast squad

Aka you’re the only ones allowed in the kitchen alone

Wooyoung bumps his hips into yours whenever you bend over so make you stumble, and if you actually fall he starts feeling bad and babies you the rest of the day

When you’re upset with him San will make his eyes go big and bring his voice up a few octaves to make you soft for him again and push his body against yours so you’ll give in and cuddle him

When you got out with Yungi, expect no one to approach you— not with these two mountains next to you

Instead of regular karaoke, you all have a competition to see who can sing the worst

And somehow Jongho always ends up winning

When Hongjoong first saw you he literally almost fell on his face from how pretty you were

And you choked on your yogurt when you first saw him because he was so freaking handsome

When you’re Insomnia decides it wants to rear it’s ugly head, Seonghwa is always there to lull you into a deep sleep and stays with you until you wake up

Wooyoung will do aegyo to make you pay attention to him, don’t think he won’t

You and Yeosang talk shit about anyone and everyone when you go out

Literally all you do is gossip with each other, people started thinking you were planning something when you’d suddenly stop when someone looked over at the two of you

Never go out alone with WooSan… you’ll always end up doing something stupid

And I say that bc the one time you did, you came back home with hair that was three different colors and a heart full of regret

SeongSang is your go two duo for when you wanna have a quiet night in and just watch dramas

Yunho is your literal therapist

He made a certificate and everything with the words ‘Y/n’s therapist’ written across it

Mingi is your ice cream buddy who will always be down to go out and buy ice cream with you whenever you want some

Jongho is your gummy bear, and he gets pouty whenever you give anyone else a nickname that has the word ‘gummy’ or ‘bear’ in them

When people first see you all out in public they think you’re a cult

When the talk of marriage pops up, they all start giving really bad arguments as to why you should take their last name

Seonghwa said because they last name Park just goes good with any name and when people think of play parks they’ll technically bde thinking of you (which was really disturbing)

Hongjoong said because Kim is really classy and it goes with your eyes (which almost made sense if he didn’t say the last part)

Yunho said because having his last name might make you taller (and out of spite you’re not taking his)

Yeosang said because K=Y and Y=you so you should take his (you never thought you’d hear something like that come out of his mouth)

San said because Choi rhymes with Boy and he was your favorite boy (which they all disagreed with and said it was them)

Mingi said because he asked very nicely (and it almost worked)

Wooyoung said because being a Jung made him the Ateez sexy guy and if you took his you could he sexy to (you were offended he didn’t think you were already sexy)

Jongho said because being a Choi made him and San good singers, so if you took his last name you could he a good singer too (you were very offended he didn’t think you were already going at singing)

After that, you just decided to keep your last name

[duskamethyst]

stranger danger.

a/n: did i sit on top of my car to imagine this? sure did. a part of the jujutsu hub collab! thank you vee @suna-reversed for organizing this horny event for us horny people.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, pwp

warnings: dubcon, literally dumbass porn, degradation + praising kink, daddy kink, gun play, mentions of alcohol consumption, dui and death, public sex, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, implied kidnapping

pairing: criminal!toji x f!reader

summary: dozing off in a parking lot seems dangerous but it seems like the right thing to do. that is, until a mysterious man taps on your window.

you shouldn’t have trusted yourself. you’ve vowed to yourself not to drink tonight, especially when you were driving to the city by yourself. maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt, you thought. but that one drink led you to another until you eventually found yourself light headed and could barely walk in a straight line let alone drive home.

so now you decide it’s best to just stop in a random parking lot and doze off for a couple of hours until you’re certain that you’re sober and ready to continue your journey back home. thankfully the lights are on and there are a few other empty cars in the lot, giving you somewhat a sense of security.

even though you aren’t completely sane at the moment, you make sure the doors are locked, turn off the engine and roll your windows down slightly to allow ventilation. if you could avoid a possible car crash, might as well avoid dying from inhaling some fatal gas. so you push back your seat and close your eyes to let sleep take you over.

but it isn’t for long until you hear a knock on the window.

startled and confused, you instantly get up thinking it would be one of the securities patrolling the area, telling you to scram but you’re only met with a rather handsome man, tall and brawny standing next to your car.

he leans down to your eye level and glares at you intimidatingly before he speaks, “get out.”

in such a panicky situation, your heavy cluttered brain doesn’t really tell you what to do nor what the hell is happening so you only stare back at him tongue tied, unable to properly gauge the situation thanks to both chemicals in your system and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“are you deaf?” he snarls with anger distorting his face.

the sharp eyes piercing through you coupled with the discernible scar on his lips go so well into his menacing demeanor and you’re aware he’s getting impatient. unsure of what to do, your hand reaches for your keys to turn on the engine, thinking it’s best to leave but he bangs on the window as if to tell you that isn’t what he wanted.

“i only told you to get out. so, get the fuck out. now.” toji waits for you to comply, but instead you just sit there frozen and he sighs in exasperation. “look, i have a fucking gun. and if you don’t do as i say, i won’t hesitate to shoot your brains off. you don’t need it anyway, right?”

toji fishes out his gun, waving it in front of you in warning. “and you’d be fucking dumb to think it isn’t loaded.”

the threatening sight of the firearm is finally what makes you unlock your doors and he immediately swings the door open and pulls you out from your vehicle by the wrist. toji eyes you up and down, taking a special interest in the mini skirt you don with a filthy smirk across his face. he peeks inside the car briefly, delighted over the fact that you’re all alone in the middle of the night– in some deserted parking lot, no less.

“where were you from?” he suddenly asks with less gruff in his tone. the eyes raking up and down your smaller frame so flagrantly makes you feel small and vulnerable.

you lick your lips to return moisture lost to parched skin as your eyes shift from his gun to his face. “a party.”

“a party, hm?” he does a double take on your whole skimpy outfit, sending a plethora of titillating thoughts to run in his head and waking up his primal instincts. he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for a while and opportunities don’t come by so easily when he’s a man on the run. he’d have to be an idiot to let this chance slip through his fingers.

“must’ve put a lot of thought on your outfit tonight. why don’t you give me a little twirl?”

toji deliberately taps the gun on the side of his thigh, reminding you what could happen if you either scream or run. getting the hint, you decide to entertain him, knowing well that you could end up with a bullet in any part of your body if you try to escape.

but do you oppose the idea of a sickeningly attractive man trying to check you out with a weapon in his hand? not really. if anything, the alarming nature of the affair only gives a delicious thrill to your already messed up nerves.

his predatory gaze is fixed on your voluptuous curves and the little sway of your hips as you gracelessly turn around in your heels, making blood rush straight down to his cock before telling you to stop.

“get in front of the car.” he urges.

“huh? why?”

toji cocks the loaded gun in front of you, his expression turning stern and serious once more. “no talking, just do it.”

you walk towards the front with the gun behind your head, careful not to miss your step until you’re facing your car.

“hands on the hood.” he demands, dark eyes silently watching you do as you’re told like a well-trained dog.

you’re certain he can see your ass cheeks peeking underneath the hem of your skirt as cold air hits your skin. the thought of a pair of eyes staring you down hungrily forms an anticipative knot to pull tightly in your stomach as your mind wonders about the dirty things he might and could do to you.

the next thing you feel is the cool metal of the barrel under your skirt, making you shudder as it caresses your puffy folds before dragging upwards to hike up the hem of your unbearably short skirt in favor of checking your panties but oh, what a delightful surprise– not a single thread underneath it all.

“no panties?” he bites back a groan when he notices the glistening slick coated around his black gun. “don’t tell me you’re getting off to this?”

“‘m not–” you deny meekly despite the blossoming heat between your thighs growing bigger when you feel the tip of the barrel against your drenched cunt again.

“don’t lie. you’re a little slut aren’t you? went to a party without your panties on– something tells me you’re an attention whore.” he mocks, poking the gun against your entrance only to observe your little squirms.

“not a slut!” you whine giddily as you spontaneously grind against the long barrel in seek of relief for the dull ache that has formed in your core.

“no? you’re gonna tell me you’re not jerking off to my gun right now?” he chastises with a satirical smile on his lips, feeling his cock harden even more from watching the way you’re eagerly rubbing against the gun he currently holds in his hand.

“i– i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you try not to let your words slur as you play coy, even when breaths are already hitching in your throat.

“oh yeah? ‘cause that cunt is positively leaking right now.” you whimper at his words, being bad and filthy never felt so good– especially to a man you don’t even know. “bet you want me to fill that needy cunt.”

“mhm!” you mewl, gyrating your hips even more salaciously once you manage to find an angle to rub your sensitive clit, sending waves of sensations to every fiber and nerve in your body.

“now that’s an honest little slut.” he coos with amusement lacing in his voice. “why don’t you beg for it?”

you tilt your head back towards him, bottom lip jutting out into a cute pout and eyes pleading. “please..?”

toji lets out a huff, “not good enough, sweetheart.”

your eyes narrow at him, hoping he can read the desperation in them as you call him in the softest mewl that you've used to numerous guys before. “daddy.”

“hmm?” he strokes your clit by rubbing the gun back and forth and watches you quiver with a lopsided grin across his face.

“w-want– need your cock, daddy.” you pant in a shameless expression of your need for him.

“what do you need daddy to do to you, pretty girl?” he studies the barrel, now smeared with your slick.

“need daddy to fuck me– fuck my little tight cunt.”

toji draws his gun away and raises it at the back of your head. “then, get on your knees.”

you don’t need to be told twice as you instantly turn around and face him, the gun now pointing directly to your forehead and follows you even until you’re already kneeled in front him.

“you went a little too fast there, didn’t you?” he chuckles, the sound is smoky and alluring. “so eager. now, take off my pants.”

your hand reaches up to unbuckle his belt and undo his button before pulling the zipper down and tugging off his pants and briefs hastily. your mouth waters at the sight; his thick cock is already throbbing, tip flushing red and leaking precum with a prominent vein on the underside – causing you to quickly disregard the life-threatening weapon in front of your head.

seeing you blatantly gawk at him causes pride to spiral in his chest, as if you’ve never seen a dick before. but is it bad for toji to assume that you've never seen a dick as big as his?

“getting nervous now?” he teases. “fuck that. put it inside your mouth.”

toji exhales sharply once your tongue carefully licks off the salty pre on the tip, rousing him further with only kitten licks until the barrel nudges your head in warning, forcing you to stop your ministrations.

“are you asking to get a hole through your head?” he scowls, showing apparent irritation.

“no.” you answer meekly.

“then? i told you to put it inside your fucking mouth.”

“‘m sorry, daddy.” you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and give it a few pumps up and down his shaft in hopes to please him and calm him down. “promise i’ll be a good girl.”

“then stop fucking around.”

without a second to waste, you wrap your lips around his cock and hollow your cheeks, squeezing and milking his cock with your tongue and throat as your head bobs up and down. you graze your tongue on the underside and slowly drag upwards, following the curve of his vein before giving a harsh suck on his tip, drawing out a loud groan from his throat.

“look at daddy.”

and you do, fixing your gaze with his darker ones as you slobber his cock with so much drool and you relax your throat in order to force yourself down to the base, devouring him whole even as he tilts the gun next to your head.

“wish i had my phone right now. you should see how you look.” his other hand reaches the top of your head, holding you in place and causes you to choke slightly before jerking his hips forward and begins to fuck your throat.

squelching noises resonate in the silent air, mingled with his grunts. drool starts to seep from the corners of your mouth and tears begin to well up in your eyes as his heavy balls slap against your chin.

“boys must really love you, hm?” you can feel the tension in his fingers as he puts monumental effort into restraining himself and he finally draws his gun away. “just taking it like a good girl.”

you can only whimper around his cock, the praise making you feel hotter that you find your hand between your thighs to push a finger inside your wet cunt.

“fuck– yeah, keep touching yourself like that.” he growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as the vibrations from your muffled moans are slowly sending him to the brink of an orgasm.

you’re too immersed by your own finger pumping in and out to even care about the ache that has formed on your jaw but the moment you feel his cock twitching, you both know it won’t be long until he breaks down.

“you’re gonna swallow all of it. got it?” he states more than questions, feeling his balls tightening as he starts to lose the last remaining control he owns.

you hum in response and flutter your eyes close and you wait until his hips still before he spurts thick ropes of cum down your throat, invading all your senses with the bitter taste of his load.

once he has emptied, you pull away with your tongue gliding along his length, not forgetting to lick off the sensitive slit to clean off any remnants.

“open your mouth.” he demands. you part your puffy lips and stick your tongue out, showing your obedience to his prior order and a delightful smirk makes its way on his face upon seeing that you’ve downed every drop of his cum. “good girl.”

“to be honest, i didn’t think you’d cum quickly.” you blurt out bluntly.

his brows furrow and his face contorts into a scowl. “‘fuck did you say?”

you shrug nonchalantly. you don’t know where it’s coming from either– the alcohol still lingering in your veins or the fact that you feel beyond proud that you’ve made him, some guy who claimed that he wanted to rob your car cum so fast. “well, all the guys told me i give the best head but none of them ever–”

“get up. face the car.”

toji clicks his tongue as you blink at him in confusion and he grabs your arm to pull you up on your feet before spinning you around and bending you down on the hood with his body pressing against your back. you swallow nervously when you feel a nudge against your ass, his dick is still hard despite the fact that he has cummed just a minute ago.

“you’re gonna regret that. once i fucking ravage that little cunt, you’re gonna be begging for me to cum quick.” he leans down to your ear as he threatens, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“i’m sor–”

“no. i won’t give a shit if it hurts you or when you cry for me to stop.”

toji gives a harsh smack on the plump flesh, making you jolt in surprise. with your hands down on the hood, he lifts up one of your knees on top of the car, causing you to spread wide open in an instant before he impatiently pokes the tip of his cock against your pulsating hole.

“but that’s what you want, right?”

your eyes roll back, lips parting in an appreciative squeal as you feel his fat cock stretches you out accompanied with a delicious burn when he sinks in deeper.

“mmh– s-so big–!”

“yeah? never had a dick this big before?” toji pulls out almost completely, eyes fixed on the cock glistening with your slick under the street lights, not missing the white cream attached onto the skin.

“n-no– ah–!”

toji cuts you off with one hard slam of his hips, drilling his cock into your tight pussy in a brutal pace while you keen and whimper as it brushes against your walls, each stretch and drag inside you so exquisite while deep crescent shapes of his nails form on your pliant skin as he holds you firmly by the hips for leverage.

“no wonder you’re so fucking tight. stupid boys didn’t know how to fuck you right.” his words thrum in a burst of heat as he growls in your ear, breaking through your every thought.

you tilt your head towards him with heavy lidded eyes and meet his lust addled gaze. your mouth is gaping in breathless moans, tongue slightly lolled out from your lips as you try to reach closer to his scarred lips, wanting to crash your lips onto his before it stretches into a devilish smirk and you feel warm liquid lands on your palate.

“you looked like you were begging to taste my spit.” he mocks. toji watches as you eagerly swallow it down your throat and he lets out a brittle chuckle. “dirty slut.”

your pussy flutters upon hearing how he degrades you, causing you to buck your hips wildly against him in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

“you liked that, didn’t you? i can feel you clamping down on me like a fucking whore.” he derides, fucking you harder and deeper until your world is reduced into nothing but the way he makes you feel completely stuffed and filled, the cockhead kissing your cervix with each deep strokes.

“please– make me cum, daddy–” you keen as pressure pulls taut in your lower stomach, the slick noises are so loud that the both of you can hear them even through your moans.

your body flushes against his, so close together and you can only focus on the sounds of flesh against flesh, the salacious rhythm making you more delirious.

“then, cum for me. let me feel you gush all over me.” toji brings his fingers to rub against your clit, easily tipping you over the edge by pressing tight circles until you find yourself crashing down with an orgasm exploding throughout your body.

“you want more?” he taunts, helping you ride out the aftershock by continuously rutting his hips into your cunt and not giving you the slightest chance to recuperate.

“ah– ‘s too much–” you whimper as soon as the pleasure begins to numb and you clutch onto his wrist tightly to try and pry his hand away from your sensitive clit.

“too much? don’t think that i’m done with you yet.”

toji finally draws away from you, but only turns you around to face him and effortlessly puts you on top of the hood with your elbows propping your weight. with his hands, he spreads and keeps your legs apart before sheathing his cock back inside your pulsing cunt again, completely mindless of your pathetic sobs. he lifts up your top, not surprised over the lack of bra underneath and he intently watches the way your tits bounce with each merciless pound of his cock.

“s-stop– please–” you whimper feebly as you try to shut your trembling legs together but he doesn’t budge and only keeps his grip on your thighs even tighter, stretching out your pussy for him wider.

“fucking take it.”

toji ignores your plea and his head dips low to your chest, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples and starts to flick it with his tongue coupled with harsh sucks until he pulls back with a pop and watches as the nipple stands erect before assaulting the other, swiftly sending sparks of pleasure down to the bundle of nerves.

“might as well keep you around. be my personal fucktoy. would you like that?” he grins up at you to see your jaw slacking, mouth falling in a wide ‘o’ as the burn down your core begins to cease.

“yesyesyes– make me your slut–!” your toes curl, making your heels drop down to the ground while your knuckles turn white from squeezing your hands into balled fists too hard.

“yeah? you’d do anything for a good fuck, huh?” he sneers at you, although he’s fascinated with your state of arousal.

“mhm– need daddy to fill me up with his cum–” your back rests against the car, reveling in the feeling of his cock abusing your swollen cunt like you’re nothing but a sex doll.

“but daddy’s not gonna cum yet. not even when you’re tightening around him like this.” toji slams your hips down closer to him, fucking into you deeper and harder with his heavy balls smacking your ass.

“t-too deep–! daddy, i’ll–” you babble, losing the ability to form cohesive words as you feel a strange knot twisting rapidly in your guts. the feeling is too intense and unbearable– the refined drags of his vein brushing against your spongy walls is anything but agonizing.

“come on. use your big girl words.” he drags out slowly and quickly pumps back into you ruthlessly. “or are you too dumb already?”

“i’m gonna–”

toji lifts up your legs over his shoulders as he leans down closer to you and he nips on your pulse point, causing your body to tense as your hands find home in his dark locks and tight shirt.

as soon as he lets go, your pupils are blown wide as pleasure washes throughout your body and you feel yourself gushing around the cock still buried inside you along with a broken moan from your lips. the release is oddly more relieving than your prior orgasm, making your body feel lighter as your mind ascends to a state of euphoria. you find yourself panting heavily as you squirt all over him, staining his black shirt with clear fluid and with some of it dribbling down to his thick thighs.

“making such a mess on daddy.” he groans as he feels your walls convulse around him rapidly, milking his cock dry and slowly dragging him down to his own high for the second time of the night.

you can only look at him in a cockdaze with no particular thoughts running inside your head, each one formed gone like popping bubbles. your eyes glued onto every bit of his features; the brows furrowed in concentration, the lips parting in grunts, the damp matted hair against his forehead and you drink the sight of it all even when you’re not sure if you’ll remember it all the next morning.

“fuck– it’d be a shame to not cum inside this pretty cunt, right?” his thrusts turn sporadic, dick twitching as a telltale of his pending orgasm that’s soon to crash down over him. he didn’t need to hear your answer as he ruts into you faster, hips stuttering out of control before a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he shoots hot ropes of cum, flooding into your womb and stuffing you full with his seed.

and once he lets go of your legs you can feel your whole body sore all over, but you can’t bring yourself to care nor whatever is going to happen after this when the man in front of you has given you what you truly wanted and made you feel satiated like you’ve never felt before.

toji pulls out his spent cock and runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out body, still splayed on top of the hood with his cum dribbling out from your pussy.

he presses your cheeks together with one hand and forces you to look at him, even as your lids are getting heavy to lift.

“i was serious about you being my fucktoy– and stealing your car.” he cackles. “so, do you wanna be in the back seat or do you prefer the trunk?”

duskamethyst © 2020 • all rights reserved. do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

[all-that-glitters-is-goldfish]

Wake-Up Call

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom X Female!Reader

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI, No smut but vague descriptions of sexual acts

Warnings: Mentions of somnophilia, spanking, choking (not overly explicit)

Length: 1900 words

Description: Venom’s kind of kinky and you’re just tired.  

You were rudely awoken by the sudden cold on your thigh, the warm cotton fabric from your pyjama bottoms being slowly lowered down your hip.

“Eddie stop it.” You mumble into the pillow, catching a glance of the glaring red digits on the alarm clock reading 5:08 am. “It’s not even light out yet.”

Your boyfriend doesn’t answer, and you grunt in annoyance as your panties begin moving, following the direction of your pants that were now wrapped around your ankles.

“Eddie. I swear to God. It’s way too fucking early.”

“Mmmph.” Was the only reply you received.

“Don’t pretend you’re sleeping. I feel you creeping around down there.”

“Huh? What?” You feel the weight of him shifting in bed.

“Stop touching me. I’m trying to sleep.”

Eddie props himself up in his elbows, blinking away the exhaustion. “What are you talking about- I’m not- Oh for the love of God.”

You roll over, frustrated to give him shit, but startle at the sight of an arm wrapped around your waist.

An arm that did not belong to your boyfriend.

“Venom!” You shout, and the black tendril retreats inside Eddie’s body, flinching away as if it touched the surface of a hot stove.

“God damn it V, we have talked about this!” Eddie is angry now, too, obviously upset about being woken up at this ungodly hour to find his symbiote trying to get some action with his girlfriend.  

“Don’t yell at him. He doesn’t know any better.” You yawn, stretching your arms behind your head.

“Oh he knows better.” You watch in awe as Eddie begins to argue with the alien, smirking as he grows increasingly upset. “Yes you do! You cannot undress her- What?? No, no. This isn’t about me being jealous this is about you and you’re freaky somnophilia shit- No I’m not going to ask her that you dick!”

“Ask me what?” Your eyebrows furrow in curiosity.

“I’m going to spare you the disgust.”

You roll your eyes, throwing your legs off the bed and wincing as your toes make contact with the cold, wooden floors. “Whatever I’m going pee now that I’m up.”

You cross the floor to the ensuite bathroom, not bothering to pull up your bottoms as you shuffle across the room. Eddie and Venom continue to argue from the bed.

“Yes. Yes, I know you like her. Yes, I do think she’s mad. No, again I’m not going to ask her that. W-Why? Because I feel like vomiting just thinking about that! No, come on man she’s my girlfriend. Fine. Our girlfriend. But I’m still not asking her.”

“Ask me what?” You make your way back into the bedroom after rinsing your hands, hurriedly jumping back into the warm bed.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“I don’t feel comfortable-“

“Well I do!” An inky black tendril emerges from Eddie’s shoulder blade, Venom’s face appearing before you, his toothy grin leering at you.

“You son of a bitch. I told you to let us go back to sleep.”

“We are all awake now. Let us discuss.”

“Let’s not-“  Venom shuts his host up by slapping a tendril against his lips, rather aggressively.

“Y/N, do you remember Halloween?”

You tilt your head in confusion, “I- Uh- Not really?”

“Neither does Eddie. But I do. I remember it very well.”

“Okay- and?”

“Well you see- Ouch! Ouch ouch ouch!” The symbiote pulls his inky black arm away as Eddie clamps down hard as his teeth make contact with the gag against his mouth.

“Don’t you say… another word…”

Eddie’s panting now, and your heartrate quickens, nervous and confused, feelings that were not new to you, as living with a man who had an alien inside his head brought several conflicting emotions inside the relationship.

“I think I need to know.” You state, and Eddie’s eyes widen.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes she does.”

“I think I really do.” You smile, nudging Eddie in the shoulder, his gaze lowering to his lap and his cheeks blushing.

“Last Halloween, we were all very drunk.”

“I actually do remember that.” You interrupt.

“Let me finish.” You put your hands up, motioning a surrender.

“We were all very drunk and decided to go to bed. But we did not sleep.”

Your mind feels hazy as you try to recall the events of that October night, but all you can remember is the next morning, hunching over the toilet bowl, spewing the contents of your stomach from the countless amount of jell-o shots you had taken the evening before.

“You were a little bit… naughty.” The alien’s voice deepens to an octave you didn’t think possible. “You kept begging Eddie to be rough with you. Pleading for him to wrap his hands around your neck, but that drunken bastard couldn’t even sit up straight.”

“I think that’s enough.” Eddie begins- but Venom keeps talking.

“You were getting very angry, and your displeasure was annoying me. So we gave in, except Eddie wasn’t… as involved.”

“I don’t like where this is going.” You gulp, beginning to piece together what had happened in the bedroom that Autumn evening.

The symbiote’s teeth widen as he grins at the expression on your face, as his host smacks his head into the pillow, on the verge of tears.

“While this idiot was dealing with whiskey dick, I decided to help you two, spice it up a little.”

Your hand clutches at your throat as images come flooding back to you. Oh, you remembered now. You definitely remembered crouching on all fours, your stomach hovering above the sheets as you asked your boyfriend to choke you until you saw spots in your vision. You remembered the pressure on your neck, pulling hard enough to make your head swim, the lack of oxygen making you dizzy and causing your insides to tremble. But suddenly you remember how the familiar confusion invaded your brain that night, as you caught a glimpse of your sleeping boyfriend from behind your naked form. And worst of all, you remembered not questioning who had been pleasuring you that night, because the excitement and enjoyment you felt- it overwhelmed you.

“Oh my god-“ You gasp realizing it was the symbiote that got you off that night. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Yup.” Eddie sighs. “Unfortunately this asshole has planted that image in my head.”

“I- Oh my g- Is this? Did I cheat on you?”

“There is only us. Did you cheat on us? No.”

“Technically, no. At least I don’t think so?” Eddie repeats.

“Just- please, please tell me… did we go beyond… uh… the choking?”

Eddie frantically shakes his head. “No. No, absolutely not. There was no insertion of any tendril into any orifice- I am stopping right there.”

You lean back against the bedframe, your mind spinning. “Wow.”

“Yeah-“

You blink your eyes a few times, trying to clear your mind from that chaotic wake-up call.

“Hey.” Eddie places a gentle hand on your shoulder. As venom retreats inside his host, politely offering you both as much privacy as he can. “Are you mad?”

You shake your head profusely. “No! I mean, I kind of signed up for this didn’t I? I mean, as much as you hate to admit it, we are basically a throuple.”

Though unheard, you can tell Venom is speaking by the way Eddie’s eyes roll into his head. “No, I’m still not going to ask her that.”

“No, Eddie. I’m ready to hear.”

“We wan- I mean- He wants. No not we! Definitely not we. You! You want to try it again!”

“Again?” You cock an eyebrow. “He wants to do it again?”

“He also wants to do other things-“

You pursed your lips, considering the offer.

“Woah, woah woah woah- you’re thinking about it aren’t you?”

“I mean-“

Eddie plugs his ears with his fingers. “I am not listening to either of you anymore.”

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“Oh please, do continue, you monster-fucking freak.”

You slapped him, a little too hardly on the cheek. You can tell Venom had some choice words about your reaction, based on the expression on your boyfriend’s face.  

“I am-“ Eddie paused. “Sorry for that.” He coughed into his hand. “Finish.”

“I was going to say, if you were perhaps, more involved.”

Eddie stares for a second, a dubious look spread across his face. “You mean like a threesome?”

“Is it technically a threesome though?”

Eddie shakes his head, his mouth agape. “Yeah, technically.”

“I thought you referred to yourselves in a collective sense.”

“Not in this situation!”

“Eddie-“ You call out as your boyfriend as he exits the bed, his feet hitting the floor harshly. “Eddie!”

You follow him, banging your knee against the bedside table, wincing as you chase him in a panic.

“Eddie! Babe?”

Half running, half limping into the living room you see Eddie standing in the darkness. He doesn’t react as you walk behind him, slowly throwing your arms around his chest. “Eddie I’m sorry.” You’re afraid you hurt him and hate yourself for that.

You weren’t expecting him to turn around and pull you close to him, returning the hug you had offered. “You’re not mad?” Your words fly into his chest.

“How could I be mad at a face like that?” His thumb grabs your chin as he tilts your head up, ensuring his eyes were locked on your own.  

“Jesus, Eddie.” You shove him, a little annoyed at how he made you panic.

He chuckles. “I mean, we are Venom. And I don’t blame him for liking you. He spends all day in our head, obviously he sees the way I dream about you.”

“That was cheesy as fuck.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

He nuzzles closer as you feel something rubbing the back of your neck, your eyes darting over to see a black tendril protruding from your boyfriend’s back, the symbiote moving in circular motions against your skin.

“V says you smell like chocolate.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, as long as he doesn’t want to eat me.”

“He does, but you know he won’t.” Eddie smirks. “So would you like to talk about this… me becoming more involved situation?”

“I’d love to talk about it. But I need a few more hours of sleep.”

“You’re going to leave me hanging like that? Propose a threesome and then go to sleep?”

“You have no idea what you’ve done to my emotions today Eddie! I need a nap! You pretended to be mad at me! Do you know what that does to a person?”

“Venom wants to know if you’re PMSing.”

You pout. “No I am not. Are you?” You raise your eyebrows, your question being directed at the alien, not your boyfriend.

You flinch as something comes down on your ass hard. You assume it’s Eddie’s hands but you realize that would be impossible as both his arms are wrapped around your shoulders.

“Venom- Did you just… Did you just spank me?”

Eddie confirms through a nod. “He said you deserved it.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Me or him?”

“Both of you.” You wink. “I’m going to sleep. Tell that parasite if he wants to wake me up like that again, to wait until it’s actually light out.”

As you turn towards the bedroom, another hard smack resonates against your asscheeks.

“Parasite!?”

[littlemelaninfics]

Happy Anniversary || Dark!Eddie Munson Smut

WARNINGS: Noncon, DUBCON, breaking and entering, language, smut

Y/n walked the halls of Hawkins High, passing plenty of students and teachers on the way to the cafeteria. When she got in there, a guy was causing havoc and basically called basketball a weak man’s game. She couldn’t help but laugh when his eyes pierced over to her.

He jumped off the table and stalked his way over to where she was standing,

“You are killing me in that dress,” he said

“Is this how you talk to everyone you just met?” She replied with a certain look in her eye.

“Nope,” Eddie replied with a smirk. Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes while walking past him, making sure he smelled her coconut shampoo.

That night, Y/n got ready for bed and made sure all the doors and windows are locked. She went to go into her parents room, but found the door locked and figured they didn’t want her in there while they were away. She shrugged it off and went to her bed to sleep.

"Wake up, Y/n. Wake up," Eddie said lowly as he stroked a strand of hair behind her ear. She started to stir when she opened her eyes and saw the man she’d met mere hours before smiling back at her.

She sat up in a fit, but realized she was cuffed to her metal bed frame,

"What the fuck?! How did you get in here!? Let me go!”, she screamed in his face. Now slightly more coherent, she looked at the alarm clock and it read 4:13am.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Let me go you fucking freak!”

“Ouch. You know Y/n, yesterday wasn’t the first time we’ve met.”

“What are you talking about! I don’t know you! Let me go!!”

“But see, you do. Let’s just say my hair was buzzed and I didn’t have the sweet ol tatties.”

It took her a second to grasp what he said, but she remembered him.

“Oh my god.”

“Heeeeeeh,” he said confidently with his arms out.

“You’re Woody Nosnum. That kid from the playground who disappeared.”

“By golly she’s got it! The kid who disappeared AND your husband. If you so care to remember the ceremony we had the last day anyone ever saw me.

“Where have you been? What do you want from me?”

“Eddie MUNSON. Woody NOSNUM. It’s not like I was hiding very hard. I want you to feel what I felt when you walked past me all those times and FINALLY gave me the light of day when I dressed like this,” he said right up against her face. He turned her cheek to look at him,

“Except this time, you’ll never forget me.” He said removing his pants. He took out his cock and situated himself between her fighting legs. He teased it over her underwear clad clit, eliciting a moan from her beautiful lips. His eyes snapped up and he briefly stopped and made his way up the rest of her body. Making sure to squeeze her tits in his hands in the process.

He kissed and nipped and the burning flesh on Y/n’s neck. He bit down on the artery that leads to her heart and her back arched off the bed. Y/n turned her head to the side to avoid his touch, but to no avail. In the midst of the small struggle, Eddie slowly moved his hand back down to her wet cunt. He teased her clit once more with his fingers before plunging two in.

“Please stop!” she gasped out.

“Doesn’t feel like you want me to.” He contributed to thrust them in before he removed his fingers, putting them in her mouth so she could taste herself. She gagged around them and bit down. Eddie slapped her cunt and she screamed loudly at the impact.

Now angry, he stood off the bed and pulled his underwear all the way down,

“See, I was trying to make this nice. Make it special, if you will and you go and do this. Fine. I don’t care either way.”

He pushed his cock in her tight cunt and she drank it in, no problem. Eddie thrusted it in and out a few times before he saw her face start to contort,

“Does that feel good, baby? Tell me how it feels,” he said deeply in her ear.

Her fearful cries turned into slight panting as he began hitting the spot she craved the most.

“Please go faster,” she whimpered.

He listened to her plea and sped up his movements. He then saw the vibrator paying next to them and reaches over her to retrieve it. He turned it on a medium setting and placed it on her already throbbing clit.

She let out a small scream and all he could think was how lucky his is that they are to be home alone tonight.

He rode out her orgasm before cumming balls deep in her sopping hole. Once she came down from her high, she stated to feel the embarrassment set in. She tried to hide her face in the pillow beside her,

“Oh no, Baby. We’re not done. It is our anniversary, however.”

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.