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kookooluvr · 3 months ago

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Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.��

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

Part 2 >

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: tmhtl #kookooluvr

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lis-likes-fics · 6 months ago

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Casual

Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*

Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.

But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.

“Hey, there,” he mumbles.

You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.

“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.

If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.

He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”

You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.

He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”

You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”

He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”

“The drive in.”

“What about it?”

“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”

Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”

“And it got a little…”

He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”

“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”

He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”

You nod a little. “Yeah.”

Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”

You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.

“I’m upset.”

He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”

You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”

He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”

“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”

His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”

“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.

“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”

You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”

He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”

“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.

He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”

You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”

“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must’ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”

You’re sick of him.

You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”

“Aren’t you on the pill?”

“Yeah.” He hums.

He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.

He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.

“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”

He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”

After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”

“S’not stupid.”

You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–

“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”

His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”

He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”

“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”

“It’s a nice word.”

You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”

“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”

You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.

He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”

You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.

He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”

You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”

He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”

You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”

He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.

You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”

He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”

You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”

“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”

You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”

To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.

“What? That is so weird!”

“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”

You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”

He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”

Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”

“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.

“Listen–”

“Listening.”

You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”

“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.

“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…

“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.

You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”

He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.

When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.

You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”

His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”

You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”

He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”

“It helps.”

Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.

“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.

He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”

He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”

You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”

“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”

You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”

“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”

“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.

“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.

“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”

That’s fair enough. “Yes.”

“And it felt good?”

“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.

“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”

You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.

This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.

This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.

You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.

He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”

“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”

He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.

“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”

The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”

“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he’s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”

You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”

You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”

“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”

He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”

You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”

Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”

It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”

He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”

“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.

“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”

You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”

He points at you. “But considerate.”

You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”

He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”

You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.

You’re a total goner, you’re sure.

You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.

It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.

His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”

He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.

He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.

Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.

Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.

“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”

You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”

“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”

“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.

He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”

You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.

You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”

He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.

To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.

So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.

When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”

Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.

Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”

He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.

“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”

You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”

You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.

Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.

“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.

You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.

“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.

“Yes.”

He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”

You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.

The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.

It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.

You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.

“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.

“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”

With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”

Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”

He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.

You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”

He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”

You chuckle. “Yes, si-”

Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.

“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.

You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”

“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.

His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.

“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.

“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”

You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”

He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.

Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.

You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”

You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”

“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”

You nod. “Please.”

He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.

“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.

But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.

“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.

“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.

You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.

You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”

He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.

“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.

You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.

Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.

Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.

When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Please, Eddie.”

His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.

Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”

“You want more, mama?”

“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.

He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.

“M’gonna add another. You ready?”

“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”

He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.

His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.

A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.

His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.

Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.

Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.

He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.

Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.

But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.

“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.

“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.

“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.

“You're a whore.”

He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”

“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”

He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.

“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”

You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”

He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”

You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.

“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.

When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.

Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.

You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.

He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”

“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.

“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.

“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”

He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”

Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”

His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.

You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.

He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.

“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.

“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”

“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”

“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.

“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”

You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”

You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.

He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”

“Yeah… you might be right.”

“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”

You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”

He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”

You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.

Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.

“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.

You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”

You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.

“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.

“Ready.”

You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.

Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.

“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”

You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”

He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”

You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.

“I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”

You nod.

Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.

“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.

You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.

There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.

Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.

“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”

The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.

“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”

“Eddie,” you groan.

He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”

You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”

“Har, har,” he says.

“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”

You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.

“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.

“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.

His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.

One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.

But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.

“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.

“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”

“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.

You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”

He's interested enough to find out.

Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”

You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.

You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.

Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.

For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.

“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”

His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.

You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”

That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.

It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–

Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.

You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”

“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.

“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.

“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.

“I was so close.”

“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”

“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”

He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”

“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.

“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.

“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.

“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.

He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.

“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”

“I like when I’m being fu–”

You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.

You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.

It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.

You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”

He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.

You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.

You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.

You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.

“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”

Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.

When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.

“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.

His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.

You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.

When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.

Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.

His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.

“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.

He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.

There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.

When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.

You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.

“So I did good?”

You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”

He smiles wide.

Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.

Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.

When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.

“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.

And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.

Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.

Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.

For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”

You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.

“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom Tag yourself here...

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myjklei · 19 days ago

Text

"You had a bad day, and your boyfriend did his best to cheer you up."

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre: Established relationship

Warnings: Cigarettes, she burns him with the cig once, vaginal fingering, hair pulling(m!receiving), nipple sucking(f!receiving), riding, choking and face slapping(m!receiving), unprotected sex but they are clean and in birth control!!! He cums inside her. Cuddlesss :(

Wordcount: 2,7k

a/n: That's one of my favorite lives of him, and he cheered me up that day when i was feeling terrible, so why not?

You close the door of your apartment, take off your shoes and coat and leave them lying around, then go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your boyfriend is sitting on the sofa with his cell phone in his hand, following you with his eyes.

"Hey my love, you arrived late, I was already going to call you. How was your day?"

You sip your water and set the glass down on the counter, letting out a tired sigh. He turns off his cell phone, puts it on the coffee table, and then walks over to you.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Nothing much happened... just a couple of coworkers who made the atmosphere in the company bad and delayed everyone's work, that's why I arrived much later than normal, also I didn't wake up in the best of moods this morning."

He gives you a worried look, and you give him a small smile.

"I'm fine, my dear, really. I'm just really tired, and my whole body aches. But I'm going to take a long cold shower and come back to you brand new."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my love, I am"

"Then go take your bath, relax, I'll wait for you"

He's incredibly beautiful in your eyes right now. He's wearing a basic black shirt with sweatpants and wearing his prescription glasses, smelling like a freshly-taken bath. You gave him another smile and a kiss, then headed to the bathroom. You spend a significant amount of time in there, as you said you were going to take a long shower, you really needed it.

You do your skincare, put on a pair of boxer panties and a shirt, which happens to be Jungkook's, and when you get to the living room, you're confronted with a scene that warmed your heart. He turned off all the main lights, leaving only the lamp next to the sofa on, prepared some snacks and beer, and there's music playing on the TV. All this as a plan to take your mind off anything that wasn't him. And that worked perfectly.

"Oh hey darling, feeling better?" He looks at you opening a beer.

"Yes, thank you... what's all this?"

"You were tired, so I thought i could cheer you up. Here are the snacks you like, I've turned on the TV and... Is the lighting okay for you?" He stares at you in a child standing position, and you let out a hearty laugh.

"It's perfect, my love."

"Come over here," now sitting on the sofa, he taps the empty spot on the sofa next to him, "sit here with me."

You go over and pick up the other open beer on the coffee table and sit down next to him. "You didn't need to prepare all that stuff for me Ggukie"

"Of course I did, you've had a bad day, I can't stand seeing you like this. If I could I'd have all your bad days for you."

"You're so sweet"

He smiles and looks down, sniffing the mouth of the bottle. "Is the playlist good? Or do you want me to change it?"

The playlist that's playing on the TV was created by the two of you, with the name Nights together ♡ and it was made especially for moments like this, or for when the two of you couldn't sleep and ended up staying up all night chatting and making out until you got tired.

"No you don't have to, it's good"

"Hmmm... but what about your coworkers?"

"Oh, they're husband and wife, at least they used to be. The wife caught her husband with someone else, someone else who works with them, the other woman almost had her hair pulled out"

"A couple who work together in the same job? And the guy still does this, basically to his wife's face?"

You nod, taking a sip of your beer.

"The atmosphere there got awful, the wife started crying and everyone took her in, I just hid in my computer and carried on working, I am less late than the rest of the people, but still, I was supposed to finish everything today."

“You were smart” he puts his mouth on the bottle.

“I still came off as the heartless one, and I'm not even close to her, even I've been a cuckold and I didn't suffer like that” Jungkook laughs and holds back from spitting out the sip of beer he was about to swallow. “You can laugh. She was yelling... Why did he do that to me? I got him this job! How ungrateful!” You imitate the wife. “And everyone was smooching her, comforting her, I can't stand it. She treated him so badly every day, he couldn't do anything wrong and she'd yell at him, that he was worthless, that she didn't know what she was thinking when she married him.” You eat some of the snacks.

“Maybe that's why he cheated on her”

“That's what I thought, but as I said, I'm not close to her, he could be a scumbag at home.”

“I'd never cheat on you, you know?” You giggle shyly and look down at the bottle in your hand, ”I mean it.”

You look up again and find him staring at you with his eyes shining.

“I missed you today”

“Just today?”

“Every day” his smile appears.

“Do you want to watch a movie while we cuddle?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing”

“Do I choose or do you choose?”

And there you are, late at night, watching your second movie. You're lying on his bare chest, and he's stroking your hair, you're paying more attention to the sound of his heart beating than to the movie, which is pretty boring by the way, but you don't care as long as Jungkook is with you. The door to the balcony is half open, and the chill air from outside comes in softly and spreads through the room with the smoke coming from the ashtray on the coffee table. Jungkook takes the cigarette from his fingers to his mouth, and you look closely at his arm, the veins popping out, pale skin, waiting to be marked. He blows out the smoke.

“This movie is so predictable”

“Huh?”

“Everyone knows that when he walks in there the door will close behind him” he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it looking at the screen, ”I told you, they don't make good horror movies anymore, they're all copies of each other”

You blow the smoke out of your mouth and sniff it back in through your nose, looking at him while he still insists on watching the movie. His glasses disappeared along with his shirt when the first movie ended, his hair is slicked back, he's lightly biting the piercing in the corner of his mouth and you have a perfect view of his neck. You snap out of your trance when you feel the cigarette starting to burn your fingers, and you reach out to put it out in the ashtray, but now all you can think about is the hand he has placed on your waist to prevent you from falling off the sofa.

“The idiot still tries to talk to the entity. These characters are so easy to kill”

You kiss his sternum trying to get his attention, “what a bad movie, I don't think I know how to choose movies anymore”.

“You say it's bad, but you can't take your eyes off the screen”

He looks at you, “I'm sorry, baby, I wanted to see how far the bullshit would go”

“Why don't we do something more interesting?” he puts his arm behind his head, using it as a support to see you better.

“Something on your mind?”

You stretch again, but this time, to get a new cigarette straight from the box, you also pick up the heater and sit on the lap of the dark-haired man below you. You light the cigarette, take a drag, and blow it in his face, who closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, you turn the tip of the cigarette in his direction, and he gets the message, leaning on his arms to sit on the sofa and get face to face with you.

You put the cigarette in his mouth, and he puts his hands on your waist, helping you to get comfortable on his lap. He looks away as the smoke comes out of his mouth. The cigarette goes back in your mouth, and Jungkook is already looking at you with big eyes again.

“Blow in my face again... please”

You do what he asks, and you feel him shudder and squeeze your waist, “I don't even think about the movie anymore”.

A smirk comes over your face, and you run your hand through his hair, “You've been so nice today, organizing everything to spend time with me, helping me relax... I want to thank you for that”

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin between your breasts.

“My bunny... I've been keeping an eye on you since I got home"

“You can take your frustration out on me whenever you want”

“Would you do that for me?”

“Anything for you”

“Even if it means I'm going to be mean?” You wrap your fingers in his hair and pull it back slowly.

“Yes... I can be your personal punching bag if you please”

“Are you sure?” You say as you stub out your cigarette on his arm, staring into his eyes. He closes his eyes tightly and squeezes your waist very hard, which will probably leave bruises, but you don't care.

“Yes I am” he opens his eyes and keeps his gaze glued to yours. You drop the cigarette on the floor and attack his mouth.

He moves his hands up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and he pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same action.

“Lean your back against the sofa, it'll be better” you stand up, leaving his lap missing you, and he does what you said, being able to get a better view of you taking off your panties.

“Close your mouth, or you'll drool,” you say, smiling and getting back on top of him, ”I'll leave the shirt for you since it's yours.”

He laughs, you raise your arms, and he removes his shirt from your body, which he does with pleasure, then kisses his way down your neck.

“I've wanted to do that for a while”

“Then why didn't you do it before? You preferred to waste your time with that awful movie”

“I'm sorry, punish me for that” he says into your ear

You laugh, “you naughty boy”

He brings one of his hands down to your pussy, and runs his middle and ring fingers over it, “you're so wet”

“I've been wet since you took your shirt off, like an hour ago”

“Can I put them in?”

“Have at it, before I do it myself”

He puts his fingers inside you, looking at you as you close your eyes and arch your back. “You're so beautiful” you squeeze his shoulders, leaving your fingernails almost bruising him.

“Curl them” you ignore his compliment and give the order, he moves his fingers with ease, offering his thumb on your clit as a treat.

He puts his mouth on one of your breasts and licks his way to the nipple without taking his eyes off you. You pull his hair and call his name as he sucks your nipple and curls his fingers again. His other hand is on your waist, squeezing lightly. “I can't take my eyes off you, my sweetheart"

You growl and throw your head back, not giving a damn about the pain you're causing him by scratching his back like a wild animal, because that's how he makes you feel and that's how he asked to be treated.

He licks you from your nipple to your neck and nibbles on your earlobe, causing you to shiver.

“Jungkook stop.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just don't want to cum on your fingers, I want to cum on your cock” he sighs shakily, ”pull down your pants”

He lowers his sweatpants along with his underpants as much as this position allows him, and you put one of your hands on each of his shoulders, fitting your entrance to his tip.

You both moan in unison, feeling your bodies fit together perfectly, and you lower your hands from his shoulders to his chest. You move at a faster pace, and he grabs your ass, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. He lets out a whimper that was supposed to be your name.

“Look at me,” you order, squeezing his neck.

Your bouncing gets harder, his hands roam desperately over your body in a clumsy way, tears start to form in his eyes, and he coughs, obediently waiting for you to release his neck.

“Hit me”

“What?”

“Hit me, my love, please”

You stop pressing your hand to his neck without taking it away. He takes a deep breath, and you slam your hand on his cheek, marking your territory.

“You're so beautiful,” you slap him again. “I love you,” another slap. “My goddess,” and another slap. “I'd never cheat on you. You can treat me like shit every day, but I'll still love you and worship you, I'll do anything for you. You're my muse. I need you."

Your head is spinning, the cold wind coming from the balcony is chilling you, his mouth is seeking yours, and you connect them by wrapping your arms around his neck. You would be trapped for hours, days, even years in this moment, in what he, only he, causes you. In the way he, only he, loves you.

“Fuck, baby, I'm close”

“Let go, my love, I'll be here to hold you”

His words were like a trigger for your high to come. You scream his name and tremble around him. He kisses your neck in a sloppy way. Now he's moving his own waist, hunting his own orgasm.

“Baby, I'm sensitive, baby”

“I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on a little longer, please. I know I asked you to be mean, but don't do this to me.” You laugh and kiss him, moving your waist again.

He squeezes your waist and whines into your mouth.

“Love?” he breaks the kiss and looks deep into your eyes.

“It's okay, go on, I want you to,” you stroke the hair on the back of his neck.

And he allows himself to, sinking his head into the crook of your neck, hugging you as if someone wants to steal you away from him. The two of you hug in silence, and you can hear his breathing and his heart beating again, the TV already showing the typical Are you still watching? line.

He looks at you, with his hair messed up, his mouth red and wet from kissing, and droopy eyes.

"You're crazy", he smiles, "and I love you so much. If you left me, it would break me, I don't know how I could live without you by my side. You're my life."

"I'll never leave you."

"I know, I know." You caress his face, and he closes his eyes, seeking your touch like a magnet. You lean his head against you and hug him like a child in need of comfort.

"I love you so much, my bunny"

"I love you... I love you..."

"Thank you."

He looks at you again, "Thank you for today. You were very sweet for doing all this"

"Baby, you deserve so much more than this. This was a little treat. You deserve the world, and I feel guilty for not being able to give it to you"

You kiss him passionately and lean your forehead against his, "You're already my world, my love." He smiles with his eyes closed, and your breaths synchronize.

"Baby, I love that we're cuddling like this, but I really need to get cleaned up"

"I know, me too, take a shower with me, and then we'll watch another movie, or play a game, before bed"

"I'd love to."

"But if it's a movie, it has to be a good one," you smile.

He'll always make you happy, you don't need anything else, he'll always be your dopamine.

"Then you choose this time."

"And, hey"

"Yeah?"

"Did I overdo it with the cigarette?" You worry.

"Are you kidding? That was one of the sexiest things you've ever done"

"Good thing, but it still hurted you, let me take care of you"

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #sub jungkook #bts smut #bts oneshot

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quarterlifekitty · 3 months ago

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God your baby trapping hc got me GOOD, I can only imagine their reactions to if reader isn't mad, they're like well I would've preferred a talk first but I was already planning our future together so this saves me the trouble of doing it.

cw: baby trapping, manipulation, obsessive behavior

I feel like some of them are still going to maintain the idea that it wasn’t on purpose lol they’re not gonna admit to trying to trap you. Also, you’re getting married. They gotta make an honest woman of you 🥰

Gaz (“forgot” to buy plan B) has very plausible deniability and is gonna maintain his story. At least for like the first 5 years of your marriage. But he’s quite happy it all worked out.

Soap (“forgot” to pull out) is gonna come clean. Why not? You’re gonna happily be his wife and mother of his child, might as well get it all out there. He promises to just tell you next time he’s planning a major change in your lives�� but as you know, his promises should be taken with a grain of salt.

Ghost (lied about having a vasectomy) had always planned on you knowing the truth. His lie was very short term. He had no intention of leading you to believe that the pregnancy was accidental, at least on his part. His plan was just to fuck a baby into you and force you to keep it. He didn’t care if you hated him for a little while, he knew you’d get over it. Especially once you saw how much he loved the baby. And he’ll agree to discussing it first in the future— for as long as you’re a good girl, anyways.

Price (placed your pills with placebos) also has plausible deniability unless you find proof that you were taking placebos, and not that the birth control simply failed. So he’ll keep up the lie if possible. And he’s happy that you want a baby, but to be honest… he fantasized about you panicking. Telling him you weren’t ready to be a mother, him comforting you so selflessly that you’d be more in love with him than ever. Your gratitude for his unconditional support was how he was going to build up your attachment to him.

König (sabotaged the condoms) uncharacteristically, didn’t really consider upholding the lie or coming clean before he acted as he did. Quite honestly, he expected you to be happy about the pregnancy, enough so as not to investigate the cause. He’s a little delusional in that way when it comes to you. His response depends on the method he went with (I mentioned him either purposely buying condoms that would break or poking holes). If the condom breaks, he’s gonna deny that he had anything to do with that. If it was from poking holes, he’ll own up to it, with the excuse that he just loves you so much— he already knew getting knocked up by him is what you really wanted, deep down.

Nikolai (pulled off the condom while you weren’t looking) didn’t try to convince you it was an accident from the very beginning. He tells you that he always knows what his girl really wants, and that was just him taking care of his girl. If you tell him you want to discuss these things first in the future, he’ll make a noncommittal sound of agreement, because he’s brushing you off. This decision he made for you turned out so well, why not just keep letting him decide things for you? He clearly knows what’s best.

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specialgradefckr · 2 months ago

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tw: explicit content. satoru/reader. dark dark DARK, bad end au, sorcerer breeding programs, consent is not a thing for sorcerers, all sorts of bad shit.

ultra dark dystopian au where the public knows what cursed spirits are and jujutsu society isn't controlled by the higher ups.

it's controlled by the government.

sorcerers are national assets. tools, property, born and raised to be weapons against cursed spirits.

they're taken from their mothers at birth. indoctrinated and trained in facilities until they're old enough to be sent out to kill curses. they start somewhere around 13. most of them don't reach adulthood.

with attrition rates so high, where are they getting all this fodder?

special grades like satoru gojo don't spend most of their time out in the field.

as soon as he was of age he's sent to a suitable mate. breeding stock like him should create more sorcerers.

for what? to be killed?

the questions come to his mind every now and then, but he knows they're useless. he doesn't think much about why things are the way they are.

he's a weapon. he's been a weapon his entire life. this is what he's good at. what he's meant for.

however he feels about his life, satoru gojo was born and bred for sorcery, in every universe. he loves it. what do the details matter?

things aren't so different for satoru in this au. he wakes up, kills curses, creates new sorcerers, gets maybe 3 hours of sleep and does it again.

he doesn't get to pick who or when he's bred with. he's a stud. his partners are broodmares. sorcerers who managed to survive the meat grinder of exorcism.

when satoru gojo meets you, he doesn't know you. doesn't even know your name.

he doesn't need that to get you pregnant. he's sent to a room, locked in there with you, crystal-clear instructions on what you're meant to do.

it isn't his first time doing this. it's not your first time either, he's sure.

it's not romantic. it's not even sexy. it's quiet, practical, and methodical -

but oh. oh, does it feel good.

he doesn't know if it's just your body, or if this is something you actively do but it feels like you're clenching around him, like your cunt is embracing him and refusing to let go.

you're touchy, too. touching his face, his hair, his body. satoru is used to roving eyes (he's instructed never to say no; after all, what if a woman who fucked him bore a sorcerer child?) and hands.

but your hands aren't greedy. they're tender. gentle caresses like the sigh you make when he buries himself to the hilt inside you.

he nearly jerks at the feeling of your lips on his neck. kisses littered up to the underside of his jaw, featherlight fleeting. ghostly, even.

when he's rutting into you, quick, efficient motions to get him closer to the edge, you meet his ice-blue gaze and press your lips to his -

it's the first time he's been kissed on the lips.

he remembers your eyes watering the first time he penetrated you. next time, he makes a point to whet his fingertips, rub over your clit, kiss your breasts, your neck, until you're dripping over him.

he doesn't know why. it's unnecessary effort. all he has to do is release inside you.

but he supposes if you're both stuck here for a while, it might as well be... nice.

and it is nice. this time he feels one of your hands grasp his, a strange feeling churning in his gut as you guide his hand to your clit.

with just a few careful swipes, timed to the rhythm of your hips bucking into him, the sonnet of your little gasps and moans, he watches you start to shiver and quake.

you clench around him and something inside him lights up, tugging, bright and hot and bursting along with his climax.

it's never been like this before, never been this good. you squeeze around him like you're milking him, panting with your mouth slack and opened wide, eyes glossy and dilated.

irrationally, he leans in to cover your mouth with his, lap at your tongue, steal away your desperate breaths and feel you moan and squirm beneath him.

when he moves to pull out, your arms dart around him, holding him close. like you don't want him to leave.

and even though it's never been like this, even though he's never tried this hard or liked it this much, satoru still thinks this is the strangest part.

laying there, bodies entwined, chests rising and falling as you fall asleep against one another.

it's warm. it's hot and sweaty and full of the stench of sex and bodily fluids, and it should be disgusting, but it's not.

maybe he's just too tired to care. when his six eyes finally close, the darkness that embraces him is warm, enticing, and absolute.

he can only just make out your heartbeat within it.

there's a few days of that, until your fertile period is over and you part, without words.

in fact he can't recall if he even spoke to you. you might not even know his name, though he's rather infamous, and with his hair and eyes he's hard to mistake.

satoru thinks about you sometimes. in the dead quiet of the night when his brain refuses to stop churning. in the midst of battle.

in the beds of the others he's meant to breed, cooling bodies laying against him as he brings himself to climax inside them and then pulls away.

it doesn't even feel that good anymore. not now that he'd had it with you.

sometimes he wishes he'd never had you. most times, he wants you there with him.

none of it matters. he knows that. he kills curses, he mates with fellow sorcerers. they're walking wombs, and he's a sperm donor. an impersonal exchange.

the worst is when he's summoned to fight a curse that seems just a little too low grade for him.

usually because the sorcerers originally dispatched failed.

in jujutsu sorcery, failure is death.

but high-level sorcerers like him aren't usually dispatched against lower level curses. it's almost invariably weaker sorcerers - younger ones.

it takes him an instant to exorcise it. seconds, really.

how many people died trying to do what was second nature to him?

how many of them were children?

it's his fault, in the end. for not being able to be everywhere at once. having to breed more to replace the sorcerers that wouldn't have been lost if he didn't have to spend so much time breeding.

the system churns through sorcerers like a meat grinder. anyone who comes out alive is squeezed for raw material, to make more of them.

an unending marathon. all that's waiting for them on the other side is death, death or being reduced to breeding stock.

he wonders what happens to female sorcerers who can't be bred anymore. are they just worked until they die?

do they ever get to see their children?

it's been years. if he'd gotten you pregnant then his children might be old enough to be sent out by now. if he has any children.

at the rate they've been having him fuck, he must have at least a few.

where are they? where are you? useless questions.

there's only been one fellow sorcerer he was able to keep track of throughout the years, and he...

well. he won't be seeing him again.

but he does see you again. years later.

do you remember him? he remembers you. how many others have you been bred with? was there a dark, long-haired sorcerer among them?

someone with sharp violet eyes and a warm smile and large hands? did you have any children by him?

is there anything left of his friend in this world?

the questions bubble in his chest, staining the back of his throat like bile.

if he asked, he's sure you would answer. you smile when you see him.

but instead he buries himself inside you, in your arms, your tight embrace. this is the only time he gets to feel good.

is this the only time you get to feel good, too? during this week of your fertile window, when they send you in to anonymous sorcerers to get fucked pregnant?

breeding stock, he remembers. what will be done with you when you can no longer bear children? what do you have to look forward to?

satoru wants to ask. did you have any children by him? did any of them survive?

but instead he buries himself in you to the hilt. until you keen and stretch underneath him.

even if he did ask, you wouldn't know.

you hold him too tightly for a brood mare, for an encounter that will only last as long as your fertile window.

do you yearn for these moments, too? do you miss him, do you want to see him again?

did you bear his children? did you want to show them to him when they were born? did you want him there?

did you - you're looking up at him hopefully, arms that hold him close, it's time to leave now and your eyes are wet and empty and your shoulders drop as you lay back on the bed limply -

geto was right.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #x reader #tw: extremely dark themes #tw: not technically noncon/dubcon but very close #dark au #god what would you call this. jujutsu sorcery bad ending? dystopian au?#tw: pregnancy #tw: child endangerment #really it's just not great for all the children here

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ichore · 7 months ago

Text

HEAVEN AND BACK | SUKUNA RYOMEN

synopsis: by the time your mother decided to marry sukuna ryomen's father, you have already noticed some weird things about your stepbrother. one, he has a thing for masks. two, he has a thing for drugs. three, he has a thing for you. and now you're stuck with him forever.

tags, warnings: MINORS DNI, modern au, stepcest, dubcon at some parts, afab!reader x sukuna ryomen, usage of marijuana, usage of ecstasy, reader usually takes birth control, mask kink, fingering, cunnilingus, p -> v, damn this boy is nasty, happy ending??, not proofread

"What? You scared?" And there he is, with his shameless chuckle and shit eating grin as he holds up a small, white pill in between his fingers in front of you.

"I'm not fucking scared, Sukuna. I just don't feel like taking it." You spit, your intertwined arms tightening against your chest as your gaze is fixated on the TV.

You curse the day your mother said yes to marriage that brought Sukuna Ryomen into your life; everything was so always carnal about him, so evil and beckoning like a hurricane. Drugs and hookers are all that interest him, and now that your parents kicked him out, this embodiment of chaos wormed and settled his way into your apartment. The anxious knot in the pit of your stomach barely lets you sleep, dark circles growing under your exhausted eyes and the soft insides of your cheeks were bitten bloody and raw.

"Fine," he says finally, before putting the pill away into a small plastic bag - then he pulls out another. You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance before you could even see what the bag contained, and you stay in the position while Sukuna's weight falls onto the couch next to you. The distinctive smell of weed begins to tickle your nose as he starts to grind the drug.

"Maybe you should slow down a little," you say, earning only a scoffing huff of air escaping through his grin.

"I'm making this for you. You look like shit. You should ease up a lil. " The wrinkles of malevolence fade at the corners of his dry lips and they're replaced with a slight pout of focus as Sukuna expertly rolls you a joint. At first you wish he had this type of patience for anything else in life, but soon you feel the inviting heat coming from his body, your gaze takes in the muscles that still show themselves across his hoodie. When your eyes travel back to his face, the red of his eyes and dilated pupils are already on you with the usual, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "What are you looking at?"

"Did you take a fucking molly?"

"Of course I did. I wouldn't have offered the other one to my dear sis if I didn't try it first. Why? Did you change your mind?"

"No... I can literally feel your body is burning from here. This can't be good for you." He carefully adjusts the joint one more time before he licks the edge of the paper and seals it for good before handing it to you. Your fingers graze against his hand as you hesitantly take the cigarette. "This is the last time." you whisper, and he scoffs again; you said the same the other time and the time before that, and now you lit the tip again, inhale another doze of mary jane and a familiar numbness webs your mind.

There's one thing about weed that makes you both love and hate it; horniness. Desire begins to swell in between your legs, your liquid warmth rolling down onto your fingers as you lay on your stomach with porn on your screen right next to your head. You wish the big, muscular man on your screen was creeping up on you and fucking you behind instead of the actress as you lazily tease your clit, your soft moans and sighs escaping through your door that you only closed half way. Except in the peak of your high, you don't hold back your voice, each of your wishes and curses travel to the living room where Sukuna is still sitting on the couch, his pants feeling tighter with each second as he's looking at the black ski mask in his hands.

He wonders which one of you liked masks first. Did he start wearing it because he saw your browser history one time? Or did you search it up because you thought he looked nice in it? Or was it both? Perhaps you both like it because you don't have to actually face him, your stepbrother who knows exactly what type of porn you're watching now and what position you're in without him having to look at you. He knows exactly what you want and how you like it - ironically, part of this information came from your ex as Sukuna beat him up for playing with your feelings.

"Your bitch sister and her fucking masks." Your ex spat, Sukuna remembers, before his knuckles met the bridge of that fool's nose. Sukuna feels his cock twitching in response, silently humming as he finds the answer to his own version of the chicken or the egg question. His hand dives into his sweatpants to find the angry red, pre-cum soaked head of his dick before he begins to stroke it. Your lazy moans tickle his ear from the distance as he tries to match their rhythm, he hitches his breath to focus on you and his building orgasm. His mouth forms a silent O as he feels himself finishing, but then a frustrated whine comes from you.

You can't cum, he realizes. His grips on his cock and his mask weaken as he opens his eyes, his head feeling heavy against the headboard of your couch while he's staring at the ceiling. He should help you. He's the only one who can, after all.

With his mask finally on, he finds you still on your stomach, your legs half dangling off the bed, your panties on the floor, your cheek squished against your bed with one hand still playing with your wetness. He can't remember the last time he hesitated in his life, but this time, as he approaches you slowly, he's scared. Yet, with one hand holding his cock, his feet bring him closer to you. Right next to your bed. His heart pounds vigorously against his ribcage when his free hand touches your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as you jolt away. He lets go of his member to cover your mouth, his body weighs you down as he presses his nose against your temple.

"Be a good girl, and stay still." He groans, ignoring your sorry attempts of hitting him before you give up. It amazes him how high you could get from a little pot; you don't even recognize his voice, nor his tattoos even though you're looking right at his arm as his fingers enter your pussy. His mouth drops ajar, his fingertips massage your sweetest spot from inside as his maroon eyes are staring at the back of your head. Flushed, disheveled, you look so adorable to him as your walls clench around his fingers strong enough that it even takes him some strength to pull them out of you after you came. "Do you want more, baby?"

"Ah, yes, please, don't stop, don't go" you cry eagerly, your own body betraying you as you push yourself against him, his hard abs sweaty against your back as you both lay on your sides. Despite your whines, his hand leaves your pussy to hold your leg. He coats the head of his dick with your liquid desire before he enters, earning a deep, long moan from each of you as his thickness continues to dive into you until his balls meet your clit. His eyes roll back, he pants as his masked forehead rests against the soft crook of your neck and he's holding onto your thigh for dear life to not cum right at this instant.

"Never had a pussy this good, huh?" you giggle, and you almost turn around to look him in the eye, but he quickly grabs a fistful of your hair to keep your face away from his before he nearly pulls his cock all the way out of you and meanly shoves it back inside. Sweat begins to bead on his body as he continues to roughly grind his hips against yours, the tip of his dick hitting your spot each time. He feels you riding through orgasm after orgasm, your walls sometimes painfully tightening around him as if your screams and moans aren't enough to make him cum alone.

"Fuck, ease up a lil or you'll break my dick," he laughs under his breath. Before he knows it, you're both holding still as you look into each other's widened eyes in shock.

"Ryo... Ryomen?" His heart nearly breaks in two. You've never seen Sukuna Ryomen's eyes filled with regret, but now that your voice shakes with betrayal, his brows furrow as if he's about to weep. He forgets the weight of your drunken state, and your many orgasm lull your panic.

"You always tell me to ease up. A little." You murmur, gingerly pulling yourself away from him to be able to turn around in your bed. To his surprise, you lift his mask up to free his lips; myriad sweat drops roll down the width of his neck. His jawline sits rigid with anxiety as you cup each side of his face, and your lips meet his. His eyelashes flutter, and a held back tear escapes his eye and gets soaked up by the mask as he pulls you on top of him, kissing you back with the hunger of years worth of yearning. Your hands explore his chest, his back, your fingernails leaving maroon trails next to his spine that makes his cock twitch against your ass. You laugh a little before breaking your kiss, both of your chests rising and falling rapidly. "I'd say I'm pretty relaxed now."

"Good," he laughs with you, his fingers wrap around your thighs before he throws you on top of his face. "I wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you are."

"Describe it to me with your tongue right there then, Ryo." A sudden, powerful smack on your ass is his response before his upper lip begins to tease your clit, the length of his tongue teases more sap out of you as it massages your walls. You slip the mask off of him entirely as he continues to eat you out, his pink hair so disheveled from all the sweat that your fingers nearly get stuck as you run through it. You feel yourself get lost in the red of his gaze while his hands encourage you from behind to ride his face faster, earning yourself another orgasm. "Fuuuck, you make me cum so fast. I love it."

"Oh, really? " He asks. He gently lifts you up again to lay you on your back, his thighs forcing your legs wide open as he enters you without hesitation.

"Oh, fuck yes." You moan before he kisses you once more, his tongue forcing its way deep into your mouth. The movement of his hips slam against you with such speed and vigor, you're certain he's going to break you while his lips pepper kisses at every inch of your pretty face. As his own orgasm edges closer, his sharp teeth sink into your shoulder and for a second, he almost paints your walls white.

His warmth leaves your body all too sudden, your pussy trembles at the loss of his cock while you still ride through your last orgasm and he's jerking himself above you, his opalescent liquid dirtying your tummy.

"Let me clean you up," Sukuna makes his way to grab a papertowel before he sits next to you. You watch him as he gently takes his cum off of your skin, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching in disgust at the sight of his own juices, yet he presses a slight peck onto the cleaned area before he stands up to throw the tissues away.

"How do you feel?" he asks, the red of his eyes appearing darker than usual as he's lies down next to you, your noses almost touching as he faces your way.

"I feel... great." You laugh, throwing your head back that he can see the angry red of the back of your throat. When you place your flushed cheek against his chest, he welcomes it with caresses across your back before he begins to play with a strand of your hair.

"Are you still high?" he asks, you hear his worry speading up his heart as he studies the ends of your hair and how gorgeous they look in the sunlight peering through your curtains.

"I doubt it, and judging by the fact you didn't cum inside me, I also highly doubt you're still high either."

"You forgot to take your birth control this morning," he says, and silence follows. For a moment, he thinks you've figured out how obsessed he really is with you and fear will take over the relationship between you, you will kick him out, blacklist his number, block him on every socials... his mind races.

"I don't care what our parents are gonna say. I love you, too" you say finally, and although you can't see or feel it, his mouth widen into a smile as he presses the lock of your hair against his lips.

#header painted by denis sarazhin #tw: stepcest #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk #modern au #shikari writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #smut

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chrisdr3 · 1 month ago

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Mini me ~ MV1

Fluff

Summary: Reader realises they're pregnant and has to tell Max.

Warnings: crying, throwing up

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time you felt sick was at Sunday morning. You were in your own back in Monaco whilst Max was in Singapore, preparing for the race. You just felt nauseous but you didn't really care, blaming it to the sudden fall of temperature.

The next time, the same day, you were eating lunch as you watched the race, Sassy cuddling on your lap. You felt slightly nauseous again, but thought it was the food making you feel like that.

The next day you were still at work when Max came home, so he texted you to let you know. Then it clicked. You recently had done it raw, in an attempt to calm him down after his last race. And he had finished inside you. You started feeling really nauseous and rushed to the toilet. You just got there when you threw up and stayed there for a bit, just in case.

On the way home, you bought some groceries, Max's favourite sweets and headed to the pharmacy. You got painkillers, birth control pills that you had ran out of and a pregnancy test. It wouldn't be bad to know.

You finally got home, only to see a sprawled out Max in the sofa, watching TV and a cat sleeping on him. When he saw you, he got up, took the bags from you and gave you a peck on your mouth. "I've missed you baby." He whispered. "Me too, Maxie." You responded. "Lemme put them in place." He spoke and reached for the pharmacy bag. "No, you do the groceries." You insisted, heading straight to the bathroom.

You practically ran to your shared bedroom and got in the bathroom, put the pills on the cupboard next to the sink and then took the test. After a while, the timer you set beeped, signalling you to see the results.

It was what you feared. Positive. You were pregnant. Many thoughts filled your mind. What if Max didn't want it? What if he wanted you to abort? What if he left you? What if he kicked you out? And if he didn't, what kind of a mother would you become? All these made you start crying. You had to let him know. You sat down, your back on the wall, hugged your legs and cried for what seemed like hours.

Meanwhile, Max was finished with the groceries and ordered your favourite takeout. When he came out of the kitchen, he was expecting to find you waiting for him on the couch, except you weren't. He went to your bedroom and knocked the bathroom door, confused.

"Baby, everything okay in there?" Max's voice was soft, a hint of worry could be heard, even behind the closed door. He heard your sobs and got even more worried. He knocked again. "Baby, please let me get in..." His voice was breaking. "C-come in..." You said.

He got in and crouched down to hug you. "No no no baby, don't cry." He whispered, wiping away your tears. He hugged you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears till your tears stopped. Then, he looked at tour eyes and spoke. "What got you crying like that, beautiful?" You didn't say a word. Instead, you put the test into his palm. He looked at it, processing what he was seeing. "Y-you are pregnant? With a baby?" He said. You nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad ? Really?" He was surprised. "I-i thought you might not want it..." You murmured. "Are you serious? I'm gonna be a dad! I've always wanted kids with you and we did it!" You looked at him smiling slightly.

"We're gonna keep it?" "Of course, darling we're gonna be the best parents this beautiful creature can ask for." He whispered, hugging you. Then the doorbell rung. He took you by your hand to the front door. "Food is here!"

Taglist: @margaritad1

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

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Injured VII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Alexia tries to get her act together

For as long as she will ever live, Alexia will never forget her mother's face that day at Alba's door.

She will never forget the genuine horror on her mother's face even as she took control of the situation. She will never forget that night when Alba slammed her against the wall after the final of the Copa de la Reina. She will never forget the way you hid behind Jenni's legs after your ballet lesson.

It's all she thinks about even as she sits in the rocking chair with a sleeping Jaume in her arms.

"Ale?" Olga says sleepily," It's three in the morning. Come back to bed."

Alexia doesn't want to. She doesn't want to let Jaume go but she doesn't want to look at him either.

He was so perfect. His birth had been quick and easy unlike yours. Alexia had felt an instant connection to him, unlike when she suffered a bought of post-partum depression with you. He was so soft and so perfect and yet...

Alexia couldn't believe that she has pushed you away in favour of him.

She had a beautiful son and daughter. Two children, not one.

She thought having a sibling would be the best thing for you. She wanted to build a family with Olga. She never considered that she hadn't actually included you in that family.

"Alexia," Olga says, a bit more awake now," Come on. He's due for a feed soon. I'd like some sleep before that."

Mechanically, Alexia places her son back in his crib, wiping away some of the drool on his face as she allows Olga to lead her back to bed.

A sense of numbness follows her now and it's clear to everyone.

Word has spread amongst the team now about what has happened. They know the bare minimum, only that Alba took Bambi and that Jenni has dropped everything to fly across the world for you.

No one knows why, officially. It's clear that Mapi and Ingrid have informed a few team members. Paredes, in particular, cannot look Alexia in the eye anymore and some of the younger players are wary seeing that.

Her life is falling apart. She had no idea you were the linchpin holding it all together.

Olga lays next to her, head pillowed on Alexia's chest.

"You're so tense," She says," Relax. Everything's going to be fine."

Alexia scoffs. "Is it?"

Her question hangs in the air for several minutes. Neither of them speak. Neither of them move.

"Yes," Olga says eventually," You need to stay positive, Alexia. If not for yourself then for your daughter-"

"Your daughter?" Alexia echoes Olga's words perfectly," My daughter? Is she not ours?"

The silence is telling and Olga rolls over and away.

"Is she? Jaume is ours. y/n is yours."

Alexia sits up in bed, reaching over to flick a lamp on. This wasn't a conversation she could have in the dark.

"We have a son together. We're going to get married. In what world is Bambi just mine?!"

"In every world!" Olga sits up too. "She has always been yours, Alexia! I am just the woman her Mami is marrying! Nothing more, nothing less!"

"How can you say that?! We're making a family together! Bambi is included in that family!"

"Of course she is but when have I ever taken that role in her life?! You took her to football! You take her to ballet!"

"She stays home with you all day!" Alexia bites back, standing now until they're both yelling at each other over the bed. "You make her lunch! You keep her occupied!"

"And you do her baths and her bedtime routine! You do her morning routine too! God, Alexia, I am essentially her glorified babysitter! You have never once let me take over those things!"

"You didn't ask?! Olga, if you wanted to do that stuff just ask me!"

"And be rejected? No! You've never given any indication that I was even allowed to try!"

"Because I thought you didn't want to! Bambi has always been mine! Forgive me for not knowing how much to put on your plate. I was trying to make this transition easy!"

"An easy transition?! Alexia, I was pregnant! I was already thrown in the deep end! Adding a self-sufficient kid wouldn't have been much worse!"

They're both screaming at each other now and Jaume clearly hears the noise because he cries from down the hall.

Alexia takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly as she counts to ten to calm herself.

Olga goes to get Jaume, moving out the door.

"If we're going to get Bambi back," Alexia calls after her," Then we have to both want her!"

The forms about your ballet class lay on the kitchen table when Alexia gets up the next day. Things were frosty last night when Olga came back to bed with Jaume but they seemed to be looking up when Olga said that they would have a mature conversation about the Bambi situation when Alexia got home.

Alexia picks it up as she eats her breakfast, skimming through it. It's for an extra class on Thursday nights (five until seven) on top of your usual ones. Apparently, it's for those little kids that have real potential. As in, the potential to be great.

Alexia had been one of those kids but for football instead of ballet. She had excelled. She was one of the greatest in the world now all because her father saw the potential in her and signed her up for a team.

She had tried to do the same with you. She took you to the under-fives Barcelona team but it hadn't turned out how she want it to. The other children had left you in the dust. Alexia had hoped that it would be a one time thing, that the first session was a fluke.

You were already so different to her and even back then, she knew that when Jaume arrived things would be different.

She'd tried to get you into football so you would have something to bond over together, at least until Jaume was big enough to play with you.

But it wasn't meant to be and her Mama had insisted in signing you up for something else.

Originally, Alexia had planned on it being another team sport, desperate to have something at least similar to football that she could cling to.

Instead, her Mama had reminded her of last Christmas when the family went to go see the Nutcracker and how enamoured you had been.

Ale's Mama had pushed and pushed for ballet and Alexia was glad that she had.

The forms sat signed on the kitchen table as Alexia washed up her bowl and dialled a number on her phone.

"Hola, Mama," She says," It's about Bambi..."

It's after training that Alexia goes to see her Mama and sister. They meet up at Eli's house and all crowd around the kitchen table.

Jenni is there too and when Alexia asks who is looking after you, she's told that Mapi and Ingrid have taken you for ice cream.

"I don't like this," Alba mutters from where she's leaning against the wall. She's the only one not sat, arms crossed over her chest. "How do we know that she's not going to take Bambi home and neglect her again, huh?"

It's the hardest words Alexia has ever had to say but she pushes them out of her mouth. "I don't want you to give me Bambi back, not now at least."

"What do you mean, Alexia?" Her Mama asks.

"I...I have a lot of making up to do," Alexia admits," I broke her trust and that is not an easy thing to get back. If I want Bambi to come home then she has to want it to. I don't want her to be unhappy again."

"What are you saying?"

"Let me visit her, please. Let me earn back her trust, please."

Everyone knows Eli is in charge here. She is the head of the family and everyone defers to her on big decisions like this. This is a family matter. This is about her granddaughter's happiness and her daughter's peace of mind.

"Bambi is very fragile right now," Eli says quietly but the house is so silent everyone can hear her clearly," This is a serious matter, Alexia and if it was anyone else's daughter, child services will have already been called."

Alexia looks down at the table, the same table she would be scolded at when she was young.

"Your father would be ashamed of you." Eli's words are hard and biting and it's exactly what Alexia wants, even if it causes a sharp pain in her chest. "This is not how we raised you. That little girl is so beloved by everyone and what you have done...I love you, Ale, but it is unacceptable."

"I know, Mama. Please, let me make this right."

"Bambi coming home is her choice. It is not a when...it is an if. If I decide that you are doing more harm than good then there will be other actions we can take."

She looks at Jenni, who up until this point has been silent and Alexia's eyes dart to her too.

"Mama, what are you talking about?"

"Eli," Jenni says," She is trying. We don't need to-"

"Jenni still has adoption papers," Alba says from her corner of the room," All they're missing is your signature. Mama is saying that if this cannot be resolved and Bambi doesn't want to come home..."

She lets the idea hang in the air. She doesn't need to say it out loud. They all know what she means.

"It won't get that far," Jenni says, looking at Alexia for the first time since all of this became real," Bambi loves you."

Alexia pushes through the lump in her throat and the tears pricking in her eyes. "If I cannot make this better then she will have the best chance with you."

Jenni looks away first. "She has ballet on Saturday until one. We can do a visit then."

"Thank you."

Olga is sitting with Jaume when Alexia gets home. It's an almost perfect image. All it's missing is you at Olga's feet, playing with your trains.

She can imagine it, your trainsets spread all over the floor and your ballet bag left abandoned on a chair. You will smile when you see her and Alexia will litter your face with kisses before doing the same to Olga and Jaume.

It will be perfect, Alexia promises herself.

"Hey, little man," She coos to her son, hefting him up into her arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Jaume giggles at the affection, lips smacking together as his hand whips out to grab at Alexia's nose curiously. He's been a little fussy recently and extremely sensitive to changes in light but he seems a little happier now.

"That's my nose," Alexia says. She wiggles it. "Is it really funny? Huh? Is my nose funny?"

"Jaume seems to think so." Olga rises from the sofa and pecks Alexia's lips. "How was your mother?"

"Helpful."

"And Alba?"

"She was...Alba."

"And Jenni?"

"How did you-?"

"I am not blind or deaf, Ale. Your team gossips. Jenni has comes back to Spain for y/n."

"Amor-"

"I'm not threatened," Olga laughs," You broke up for a reason but even I know that a meeting of y/n would involve her. How was it? What did they say?"

Alexia manages a smile. "I can see her on Saturday, after ballet. There's a place where you can paint pottery nearby. I think I'll take her there."

"That's nice," Olga says.

"I..." Alexia's been floating in a happy bubble ever since she started to drive home. She doesn't want to ruin it but she has to know. "Did you have a think about what we talked about?"

Olga sighs. "I love Jaume," She says after several beats of quiet," Because he is mine, yes, but mostly because he is yours as well. And I love you so much."

Alexia doesn't like where this is going. "And Bambi?"

"I'm sorry, Ale, but I do not love y/n but...I think I could learn to because she is so much like you and I love you. I do not know y/n like I know you and Jaume. I want to though. I want her home with us so I can love her like I love Jaume. I am sorry if it is not what you want to hear but it is my truth and I hope that is enough."

Tears fall down Alexia's cheeks.

"It's enough. It's enough, amor."

Alexia spends all week waiting for Saturday. There are matches to prepare for and media commitments to do but you're all she can think about.

She wonders if she should bring you a new train to mark the occasion but the model train store has finally shut down and Alexia cannot get one for you in time.

Next time though, she promises herself that she'll got you a new train for your collection. Her palms are sweaty and she's nervous when she spots you and Jenni walking down the street hand-in-hand.

You're still in your ballet clothes but you've got one of Jennie's jackets on and it's dragging on the ground behind you because it's too big. Your hair is still done up in a bun and a few wisps fall down to frame your face.

"Bambi," Alexia says, suddenly breathless when you look up at her.

"Hola, Mami," You reply, ducking a little bit behind Jenni as you greet her.

"Your Mami and you are going to paint some pottery," Jenni says," And I'll be right here to pick you up when you're done."

"You won't be late?"

"Of course I won't be! You're my most favourite little girl in the whole wide world! I'd never be late to pick you up!"

You smile and giggle when Jenni peppers kisses all over your face before gently moving you towards Alexia.

"Hola, Mami," You say again.

Alexia smiles and takes your hand. "Hola, Bambi."

You look very nervous and your hand is unusually warm in Alexia's, though she puts that down to you coming straight from ballet.

There's a big wall where you can choose what to make. Alexia gets a mug and, unsurprisingly, you want the train. It's at the very top of the shelf and you can't reach and you don't want Mami to get upset at you for asking when you could easily get something that's closer to your height.

But Alexia notices.

She's making sure to pay a lot of attention to you now. To the way that your ballet pumps are wearing a bit at the soles and the way you play with the sleeves of Jenni's jacket.

"Do you want the train, Bambi?" She asks," Do you want me to pick you up so you can grab it? Can I touch you?"

You nervously nod and Alexia pretends to not notice the way that you don't breath until you're safely back on the ground.

The little shop is quaint and fairly quiet and Alexia lets you choose the table at the very back.

Very gently, she telegraphs her every move to you as she rolls up the sleeves of Jenni's jacket so you don't get paint on it.

You're both quiet as you paint.

Your little tongue is stuck out in concentration as you dip your paintbrush into the paint and move it to cover your train.

"You moved up in ballet," Alexia says eventually," How was that?"

"Was good," Is the response from your tiny voice," It is harder now but still fun." You blink a few times as the overhead light buzzes and you scratch at you neck. It's been a little itchy since you last saw Mami and you don't like.

You haven't told anyone because you're scared they're going to get angry at you. You're a big girl now. Big girl don't complain about something as silly as itchy skin.

"I'm very proud of you," Alexia says," And I'm glad that you're enjoying ballet so much."

Your watery little smile back makes Alexia nearly cry herself. "Really, Mami?"

"Of course. I am so proud of my Bambi. You make me proud everyday."

"Are you sure, Mami?"

"Yes. I am very proud of you."

You sniffle a little and duck your head back down to continue painting. It hurts to move your head though. It's all stiff and tight so you have to hold it at an odd angle so you don't cry - though you're not sure if it's because of the pain or the fact that Mami is acting like this is the Before.

The Mami from the Before never got angry when you asked silly questions. The Mama from the Now got angry at you once when you asked a silly questions when Jaume was crying.

You hope that this Mami won't be mad because you ask a silly question.

"Mami," You ask softly, the memory plaguing you ever since your Jenni returned to you," Jenni says she wanted me when I was little. Did you want me?"

Whatever bubble Alexia was in before pops and it's like icy cold water has been dumped on her.

"What do you mean, Bambi?"

"You and Miss Olga wanted Jaume," You say," And my Jenni says she wanted me. Did you want me too?"

"Bambi..." Alexia doesn't want to think about those first few months of having you. The post-partum depression had hit hard and Alexia could do little but deal with yours and hers basic needs.

She had loved you and resented you all at the same time and the guilt had weighed on her for months.

"I always want you."

You shake your head before wincing and returning your head back to its awkward resting position. "But did you want me then? When I was little like Baby Jaume and when I was in your belly?"

Alexia moves from her chair to kneel in front of you. Her hand comes up to cradle you. Either her hands are big or your face is tiny because they cover your entire cheek.

"I love you," Alexia says," You're my Bambi and I've always loved you."

"But did you want me?"

"Bambi..."

"Mami...Mami, I..."

Alexia doesn't want to lie but she also doesn't want to tell you either. There were moments, that first week she found out she was pregnant when she didn't want you. She hadn't been overjoyed at the prospective of you. She hadn't wanted her career to be derailed by something as silly as a child.

She doesn't want to tell you the truth because she knows that it will be damaging to you. You're not old enough to be told things like this. You're not mature enough to be told this kind of information and not have it linger and fester within you for years.

But Alexia's always valued honesty. She doesn't like lying but she had lied to you all your life. She doesn't want to lie again now even if it's about something like this. Adults cannot fault other adults for telling their truth but you are neither an adult nor can you understand what this means for you.

"I want you now," Alexia says instead," I want you when I go to bed every night. I want you when I wake up every morning. I want you when I score a goal and when I win trophies. I want you, Bambi."

You sniffle and scratch more insistently at your skin, your wrists this time.

"I miss you sometimes, Mami," You say," But coming back to your house is scary."

"Thank you for being honest, Bambi. You don't have to come home if you don't want to." Alexia forces down tears. "When I next see you, we should go and see Abuela and we'll explain things to you, okay?"

"Okay, Mami."

"Is your train done?"

Your train actually is done so Mami gives it and her mug to the lady who works there to finish off and you both walk outside.

"They should be done in a few days," Mami tells you," And then when I next see you, I'll give you your new train."

"Okay, Mami." Her hand is in yours and you think that is enough for today, pulling your hand away as Jenni turns the corner and lets you run to her.

"Hey," She laughs, swinging you up into her arms," How did it go? Was it fun?"

You don't answer, burying your face into Jenni's neck.

"I..." Alexia says," I think next time when should go to my Mama's...Conversations are...difficult sometimes."

Jenni nods. "I see," She says," Next week, maybe?"

The words are complete autopilot. Alexia hates what she's said the moment they're out of her mouth but they're completely out of habit and she doesn't even think before she speaks.

"We'll see," She says," I'll have to check my schedule." She clamps her mouth shut the moment she says them. "I mean- No, I meant-"

You look resigned, like you are so used to this that it barely effects you but Jenni looks furious. She hefts you up higher in her arms.

"Say goodbye to your Mami, Bambi."

"Bye, Mami."

"Hey...Wait, no, Jenni. I didn't mean-"

"Bambi needs to have a nap," Jenni says," She takes one right after ballet. We changed her schedule for painting today. I should get her home."

Alexia wilts, slouching her shoulders and curling in on herself. "Adios, Bambi. I love you!"

Jenni is already walking around and you don't offer your own I love you in return.

Jenni's steady steps feel nice as she walks you back to Tia Alba's. Your itchiness increases and you scratch more harshly at your neck.

"Ma-Jenni?"

"Yes, Bambi?"

"Can we have cuddles tonight?"

"Of course we can. I love cuddles with my favourite little girl. Are we having them on the sofa after bathtime or in bed together?"

Before Ma-Jenni came home, you slept with your Tia Alba. Now you sleep in the same bed as Ma-Jenni. She's big and strong and she holds you just right. She doesn't let you go the whole night. You go to sleep in her arms and you wake up in her arms.

"Bed cuddles please."

"I love bed cuddles."

You grin. "I love bed cuddles too!"

You scratch at your neck again and Jenni gently pulls your hand away. She frowns, swiping at your skin with her thumb a few times.

"You've got a bit of a rash there, Bambi," She says," We'll have to keep an eye on that."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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alsofoundinpeas · 26 days ago

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Beyond the Window

Summary: With her package plan a success, the only thing standing between Y/N and Spencer now was his job. But as soon as he returned home, nothing would hold them back from finally acting on their feelings—this time, with no windows in the way. (Part One)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Some might consider this dubcon (talk of Spencer watching reader through her window but reader had wanted him to) so please be aware of that! Fingering (f!receiving), oral (both m and f receiving), unprotected P in V sex (birth control mentioned), overstimulation/multiple orgasms (both m and f receiving), dry humping (if you squint), creampie (fuck I hate typing that), minor corruption kink, heavy praise, Virgin!Spencer, Sub!Spencer (he is pathetic and LOUD in this FYI), Soft Dom!reader, Perv!Spencer and Perv!Reader (they're back at it again LMFAO). Both fluffy and smutty. They match each other’s freak your honor!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Anddd done! This was, to date, the filthiest thing I've written so I'm nervous but I also loved writing it LMAO. I hope you guys enjoy part two as much as I enjoyed writing it :') I'll be putting out more sub!Spence in the future, but for now I hope you guys like this!! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Spencer was certain the universe was playing a cruel, twisted prank on him.

It was the only explanation for being called into work early on a Sunday morning when he was supposed to be off. The night before, he’d gone to bed without replying to Y/N, hoping to come up with the perfect witty, flirty response the next day—when his brain wasn't a pile of mush. As he hurried to pack a go-bag and get dressed, Spencer cursed under his breath for waiting. Now, he’d have to send a hasty, jumbled apology and hope that Y/N would still want him to come over when he got back.

While Spencer drove—a task he loathed but had no choice in, given the lack of time for the metro—Penelope briefed him on the case details. The team was being sent to Wyoming to assist with a rapidly escalating unsub, which explained the need to get there quickly. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as Penelope spoke. Even with the case's urgency, his mind kept returning to Y/N.

“Reid?” Penelope sighed, then tried again. “Hello? Earth to Reid?!”

Spencer snapped back to reality, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got distracted. What was the last part again?”

Penelope's laughter echoed through the phone. “What’s keeping your mind so busy? Besides all your usual genius stuff, that is."

Spencer groaned, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t stop pressing until she got an answer. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly began to explain.

"There’s this girl who lives across from me, and I’ve had a crush on her for a while… We’d run into each other a few times at the library and the coffee shop near my place, but recently, a package of hers ended up at my door. I took it to her yesterday morning, and we ended up hanging out—" He paused, swallowing hard as his mind drifted to what had happened that night, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. "Anyway, she texted me to come over again, but then I got called in for the case. So, yeah, she’s just been on my mind."

Spencer winced as a loud squeal erupted from the phone, quickly followed by the sound of enthusiastic clapping.

“Spencer! That’s adorable! What’s her name?”

“Nope. Not a chance. I know you’ll look her up and start stalking her!” Spencer protested as he pulled into the parking garage. “Look, I just got here, so I’ll see you when we get back. Please keep this between us for now, alright? I don’t need everyone hounding me about it while we have a case to focus on.”

Penelope groaned dramatically but gave in, sighing in playful annoyance. “Ugh, fine, lover boy. You just ruined all my fun,” she grumbled. “Be safe, my sweet angel, and tell Derek to call me when you guys land!”

Spencer finished the call and hung up, swiftly typing out a message to send to Y/N before he had to go in. His thumbs clumsily pressed the buttons as he hurried, letting out an annoyed sigh as he fumbled with his flip-phone. He’d never been a fan of modern technology, but if getting a new phone meant it would be easier to talk to her, he’d consider it.

Good morning! I hope you slept well. Apologies for the late response. I’d love to come over, but unfortunately, I’ve been called in for a case. Would you still like me to come by once I get back?

Spencer gave a nod to himself, hit send, then gathered his things and stepped out of the car.

Y/N paused when she heard her phone ding, toothbrush still in her mouth. She quickly finished brushing, swishing mouthwash as she walked to her room to grab her phone. Returning to the bathroom, she spat out the mouthwash before finally glancing at the waiting text.

A small giggle fell from her lips as she read Spencer’s message, leaning back against the sink as she responded.

Of course, Spencer. Only if you want to :) xoxo

He texted like an old man (which wasn't surprising, considering his wardrobe). She thought it was charming. She placed her phone on the bathroom counter and stepped toward the shower to start the water, a smile still playing on her lips from his message.

A content sigh fell from her lips once she stepped into the hot stream of water, letting the water relax her tight muscles.

As her soapy hands began to wander her body, her mind wandered back to Spencer and just how deliciously pathetic he’d looked stroking himself to the sight of her. Honestly, Y/N had worried she’d scared the poor guy with her message after he’d watched her the night before, so seeing his text was a relief. Now, she just had to wait for him to return from his case—and then he’d finally be all hers.

The week crawled by, each day stretching on painfully, leaving both of them restless and longing for each other's company.

Each night when Y/N came home, she’d glance out of her curtains, hoping to see that Spencer had returned, only to let out a quiet sigh when she found he hadn’t. She couldn’t remember ever being this excited to see someone before. Something about Spencer had her completely hooked—not just his looks, but the man behind them. After spending time with him, she was eager to uncover more about the sweet, brilliant person who lived across from her.

Another four days went by before the text she’d been waiting for finally came through.

Hey pretty girl, we just landed so I’ll be home in about an hour. Are you up for some company?

Y/N arched a brow as she read the message, re-reading it a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. That didn’t sound like Spencer at all… but she was too eager for him to come over to worry about it now. She’d figure out who actually sent it when he arrived.

With a small grin, Y/N typed her reply, then set her phone down to get ready and tidy up her apartment.

“Morgan! Come on! Are you serious?” Spencer griped, swatting at the man in an attempt to grab his phone back. “What did you say to her?”

Penelope had (accidentally) let it slip to Morgan that Spencer was, in her words, "dating but not dating this super cute girl who lives across from him." Naturally, she’d ignored his requests for privacy, tracked down the tenant list for Y/N’s building, and found her online after figuring out she was the one. So, when Morgan glanced over Spencer's shoulder and saw the carefully composed message he’d written, he snatched the phone and sent something entirely different.

“Relax, kid! I’m just helping you out. You’re going to scare her off if you keep talking to her like a geezer,” Morgan chuckled, tossing him back his phone before standing from his seat and stretching. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Spencer sighed, shaking his head in frustration before unlocking his phone to check the message. He cringed at what Morgan had sent, but then his heart skipped a beat as he read Y/N’s reply.

Come over whenever you’re ready, pretty boy. I can’t wait to see you. :)

Spencer’s face flushed as he brushed off the curious looks from the team, eager to get off the jet and head home to drop his stuff off—then straight to Y/N’s. A mix of nervousness and excitement churned inside him, his hands trembling as he started the drive home. It felt surreal to him, knowing not only that she was excited to see him, but that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

A firm knock at the door pulled Y/N’s attention from the couch, a bright smile spreading across her face as she jumped up to answer it. "Coming!" she called, quickly unlocking the door. When she opened it, Spencer stood there, looking a bit nervous and holding a bag of takeout from her favorite diner.

"Oh, Spencer," she murmured, her gaze softening as she noticed the bag. "You’re so sweet! You didn’t have to get dinner—I was planning to order something when you got here." She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and taking the bag from his hand so he could slip off his coat.

Spencer waved it off with a sheepish grin as he followed her into the kitchen. "I wanted to," he said. "I noticed you ordered from them a lot and thought it would be a nice surprise." His eyes widened in panic. "Not that I’ve been, like, stalking you or anything! And, um, I'm sorry if I didn’t pick the right thing. I can run back and grab something else—"

“Spencer.”

Y/N sat down the plates she'd gotten out for them and silenced his nervous rambling by gently cupping his cheeks. Spencer froze mid-sentence, his mouth slightly open as he looked down at her. She smiled up at him, softly stroking her thumb along his cheekbone.

“You did perfect, sweetheart,” she reassured him, her gaze flicking to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “It was so thoughtful of you to pick up dinner. I'm sure I'll enjoy whatever you ordered. Thank you.”

Spencer swallowed, his heart pounding at the feel of her hands on his face. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself before he whispered, “Of course.”

Y/N smiled, brushing her hand over his cheek one last time before turning back to plate the food, which looked and smelled delicious. Once she finished, she headed to the fridge, glancing back at Spencer. "Wine, water, or soda?"

"Water, please. Thank you."

Nodding, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine and then filled one with water for him. They walked into the living room, both of them buzzing with anticipation for what was to come later. They sat side by side, enjoying the warmth that came from being pressed together as they began to eat.

"So," Y/N started, laughing softly before continuing. "Who texted me from your phone earlier today? Unless the grandfather ghost inhabiting your body decided to take a rain check."

Spencer groaned in embarrassment, chuckling awkwardly as he glanced at her. "Sorry about that… that was my co-worker, Derek. And best friend too. He accused me of 'talking to you like a geezer' and decided to try and do better himself."

Y/N laughed even harder, putting her fork down to take a sip of her wine before replying. "I knew it wasn’t you!" she said with a triumphant grin, then paused, a new realization dawning on her. "You talk about me to your team?"

Spencer hesitated, finishing his bite slowly before taking a drink and nodding. "Sort of… I told Penelope about you, and then she mentioned it to Derek. I’m sorry—i-is that okay?" His fingers pushed his glasses up, a nervous habit of his.

It was more than okay. A giddy feeling rushed through her at the idea of him talking about her to his co-workers, recalling how he'd mentioned during their first hangout how much he valued them. She nodded, nudging him with her shoulder gently.

“You apologize too much, Spence. It’s totally fine. If anything, I’m flattered,” she admitted with a grin.

It didn’t take long for them to finish eating. Once the plates were cleared and placed in the sink, Y/N turned to Spencer, a small smirk playing on her lips. Spencer swallowed, leaning back against the counter, his eyes locked on her with a mix of curiosity as she began to speak.

"Do you watch every girl you're interested in through their window? Or am I just special?"

Her tone was playful, not angry or accusatory, but Spencer still tensed, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain himself.

"I swear I didn’t mean to come off as creepy or anything," Spencer stammered. "It’s just… from the moment I met you in the library, you were so captivating. And when I found out you lived across from me, I couldn’t help myself—"

Y/N's gaze softened as she realized just how nervous he actually was, and she took a step forward, shushing him with a finger to his lips.

"Spence, hey. Look at me, sweetheart,” she murmured, her arms loosely wrapping around his neck. She waited until their eyes met, then continued, her fingers gently twisting the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was just teasing. I wanted you to watch. That’s why I left my curtains open.”

Spencer’s eyes widened at her admission, a shaky sigh escaping his lips as he recalled every time she’d left her curtains open. All this time, she had wanted him to watch. The realization sent a strange warmth through him, and he carefully placed his hands on her waist.

“So, was the package at my door part of your plan too?” he breathed, his expression a blend of lust and adoration as he looked down at her.

Y/N's answer came in the form of a nod and a smug grin. Spencer chuckled, his nerves easing the longer he held her in his arms.

"I didn’t think you’d ever make a move, so I decided to take matters into my own hands," she said softly, still grinning as she met his gaze, mirroring the admiration in his eyes.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer. “Is it wrong to say I’m glad you did?” he murmured, his hands gently caressing her lower back through her shirt. “You’re just… perfect. I was afraid you wouldn’t even give me the time of day if I’d tried to.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open in surprise, her brows furrowing as she tilted her head. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously, letting her hands slide to rest on his shoulders as she leaned back in his embrace. “Spencer, I adore you. You could’ve asked me out in the library, right then, after just thirty seconds of knowing each other, and I would’ve said yes without a second thought. You really don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She tilted her head up, brushing her nose against his, continuing before he could speak. "Let me show you just how incredible I think you are. Please?"

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing at her words. It was exactly what he wanted, more than anything. But he hesitated, his mouth working as he fought to find the right words.

"I'm a virgin!" he not-so-eloquently blurted out instead.

Y/N's head jerked back, blinking hard as she processed his words. Had she heard him right?

"Wait... what did you just say?"

Spencer blushed hard, averting his gaze to the ground as he repeated himself.

"I'm a virgin."

It was Y/N’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, the admission arousing her more than she’d care to admit. She rubbed his shoulders gently before using one of her hands to guide his face back to hers, her gaze earnest as she looked at him.

“Honey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything at all—“

Spencer shook his head vigorously at that, a low whine emitting from his throat as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to do everything with you. I want to more than anything, I swear! I-I just… I don’t want it to be bad for you,” he whispered, unnecessary shame lacing his words.

“Spencer… sweetheart, it would never be bad for me as long as I’m with you,” Y/N whispered, her voice warm and steady. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, babe. Honestly, we could just curl up on the couch, watch a movie, or talk. I love talking with you, about anything.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at her words. No one had ever told him they truly enjoyed his company before, nor had anyone ever shown such genuine affection or concern for his emotions. It was a feeling he hadn’t known he was missing.

“I’m more than sure, Y/N. Please?” he mumbled, his grip on her hips tightening slightly. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

She paused, her eyes closing as she carefully considered her next move. After a long breath, Y/N gave a small nod, then pulled away from him completely.

“Follow me, then.”

Spencer hurried after her, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to keep up. Once they reached her bedroom, Y/N shut the door and turned to face him, leaving him standing in the middle of her dimly lit room. He glanced around, almost in disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was really here—standing in her room and not caught in some dream.

“Bet it feels different being in here rather than just looking in,” Y/N teased, stepping closer to him.

“Very. I’m still waiting for the cameraman to jump out and tell me it’s all a prank.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head with a smirk. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not happening. No prank, sweetheart,” she hummed, her eyes catching the way his gaze swept over her, full of unspoken desire.

Y/N smirked as she took another step forward, urging Spencer backward until the backs of his knees hit her mattress. She reached up, pushing down gently on his shoulders until he gingerly sat on the bed, looking up at her with wide eyes as she moved to straddle his lap. Her fingers carded through his hair, tugging gently and eliciting a whimper from him as she cocked her head.

“Quit looking at me like that,” she murmured, scratching her nails gently against his scalp.

A shiver ran down Spencer’s spine, his brows furrowing at her words. He shifted underneath her, resting his shaking hands on her hips. His tongue poked out to wet his lips, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes darkened at the sight.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to ruin you.”

Y/N’s words lingered in the air, their breaths the only sound breaking the stillness. The tension between them was electric, each waiting for the other to break first. Finally, Spencer did, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

The slight tremble in his voice and the doe-eyed look he sported were all it took for Y/N’s resolve to crumble completely.

With a low groan, her lips crashed onto his. Their mouths melded together, the small whine bubbling in Spencer’s throat encouraging her to kiss him even harder. His hands reached up to cradle her face, matching her intensity as their lips moved together.

It wasn’t what she’d expected at all.

Spencer didn’t kiss her like the shy, hesitant man from earlier. Instead, his kiss was fiery, almost desperate, as though he wanted to drown in her and never resurface. And she found herself wanting exactly the same.

Y/N’s hands wandered from his hair down his chest, letting her fingertips dip beneath the hem of his shirt as their tongues brushed together. Her nails gently dragged along the soft skin there, and she felt his erection twitch from where it was firmly pressed to her core. Spencer whimpered, breaking their kiss with a soft gasp as he looked up at her pleadingly.

“Please,” he panted, his hands reaching for her hips to pull her down into him. Y/N rolled her hips against his, moaning lowly at the friction. She repeated the action once before stopping her movements, climbing off of him despite his protests with one simple command.

"Take off your clothes, Spence."

He complied immediately, scrambling to stand and strip out of his clothes. His fingers fumbled as he worked at his tie, his focus stuck on her as she undressed before him. A frustrated groan left his lips as he finally yanked the tie off, his hands moving too slowly for his own liking.

Y/N arched a brow, chuckling at his irritated noise as she stepped out of her pants. She reached up to stop his hands, beginning to unbutton his shirt herself. "What's got you so worked up, hm? It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before," she purred, sliding her hands under the fabric and slipping it off of him.

The shirt hit the ground with a muted thump, and her eyes roamed over his newly exposed skin hungrily. Spencer whined at her teasing, letting his hands roam up and down her sides as she worked on getting his pants off.

"I could see you like this an infinite amount of times, and it would still take my breath away every time," he murmured, his hands gently squeezing her hips.

A faint pink spread across her cheeks at his words, and she lifted her face to place a soft kiss on his lips, a silent thank you. No one had ever made her feel as treasured as Spencer did. He gazed at her with a devotion that felt almost reverent, as though she were someone to be worshipped—and he longed to be the one to worship her.

Which was highly ironic, considering she was the one sinking to her knees the second his pants pooled around his ankles.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Spencer's voice raised pitch as she steadied herself with her hands on his thighs, looking down at her with wide eyes, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they threatened to slip down from the angle.

"What does it look like I'm doing, sweetheart?" Y/N murmured, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to his hip. "I want your pretty cock down my throat. You okay with that?"

The sound Spencer made was almost pained, his fists clenching at his sides as he struggled to figure out what to do with his hands. His mouth parted, a stutter escaping him before he finally gave in, nodding instead. His cock twitched in his boxers, aching to feel her touch.

"Words, baby. Use your words."

Y/N's lips skimmed across his navel, peppering kisses along the smattering of hair there as she waited for his response.

"God—yes! I'm okay with that," Spencer whined, his hips bucking forward instinctively from her touch. "Please... please touch me—"

Y/N couldn't deny such sweet begging. It would be downright cruel if she did.

Her fingers found the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly. She kept her eyes locked on his, carefully assessing his every reaction to ensure there was no trace of doubt before proceeding. When she saw none, she swiftly yanked them down the rest of the way, letting them pool around his ankles with his pants.

Spencer gasped as the chill of her bedroom air met his warm skin, goosebumps spreading across his arms as he fought the urge to shy away from her gaze. He never thought that highly of himself in the physical aspect— all lean muscles, lanky limbs, and pale skin spattered with freckles and a few random scars. But his insecurities faded the moment he heard her breath catch, her eyes filled with admiration as they lingered on him.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer," Y/N breathed, bringing a hand up to grip him gently. "So, so beautiful."

Her mouth was on him before he could respond.

A keening sound filled the room as he watched in pure awe as she dragged her tongue up and down the length of him slowly before her lips wrapped around the flushed head of his cock, a spark of pleasure shooting up his spine as his hands flexed by his side. She sucked gently, swirling her tongue around the tip before pulling off of him to speak.

"Don't be afraid to hold onto me, sweetheart. Go ahead."

Spencer's hands immediately came up to cradle the back of her head, finding purchase as she returned to what she was doing. The sight of her on her knees and taking the length of him into her mouth had his knees almost buckling. It was something he'd dreamed about for nights on end, but now that it was actually happening, he didn't know what to do with himself.

"F-fuck—" He whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut to prevent himself from cumming right then and there.

All he'd ever experienced before was his own hand (and occasionally some desperate humping against his mattress), so the feeling of her mouth around him was otherworldly. Just when he thought it was safe to open his eyes again, Y/N smirked around her mouthful and pushed her head down to take him in completely.

"Oh—!" Spencer cried out as he hit the back of her throat, jolting and stumbling backward and falling out of her mouth with a slick 'pop'. His chest heaved as he reached down to grip himself tightly, staving off his orgasm. He didn't want to cum yet. Not this quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, it just felt too... too good—"

Y/N gently stroked his trembling thighs, pressing a kiss beneath his belly button before rising to her feet. She shushed his stammered apologies with a kiss on his forehead, caressing his face as he caught his breath. His face was flushed, both from embarrassment and arousal, and the sight was more endearing than it should have been.

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing," she whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before turning to crawl onto her bed. “Get up here, baby,” she crooned as she laid back against her pillows, patting the spot beside her.

Spencer almost tripped over his pants in his haste to follow after her, kicking the fabric away before he kneeled onto the mattress, smiling meekly at Y/N as she watched in amusement. "I w-want—" Spencer paused as he watched her lean forward so she could unclasp her bra, completely enraptured. "I want to taste you. Please?"

Desire coursed through her at his words, searing through her veins as she met his gaze. She loved how pretty the word please sounded falling from his kiss-swollen lips. She slipped free from her bra, tossing it to the ground before answering his pleading.

"Go ahead, baby. Take whatever you want—I want you to have it all."

Spencer swallowed hard at that, a small grin playing on his lips as he moved forward to settle between her spread legs. He kneeled between them, taking off his glasses and setting them on her nightstand before lowering himself to hover over her. He bumped his nose against hers, his grin widening as he moved to tentatively kiss along the side of her neck.

Y/N moaned at the feeling, tangling her fingers into his tousled strands. He continued, trailing his kisses down the slope of her shoulder before pausing to suck a small mark into her skin, relishing in the soft noises falling from her lips. Once he was satisfied with his mark, he brought his lips down to mouth along her breast, laving his tongue over the taut bud of her nipple.

"Spence—" she whimpered as he closed his lips around the hardened peak, suckling with a low groan that rumbled against her skin. She tugged at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. "Feels so good, sweetheart."

Spencer hummed, pulling off her breast after a moment and switching to the other to give it the same treatment. Y/N whined, arching into his touch as he began to move down her body. What he may have lacked in physical experience, he more than compensated for with knowledge.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a prude. He'd read plenty of erotic novels, as well as countless books all centered around the female anatomy and how to inflict the most pleasure so that he could at least pretend to feel prepared for his first time. It seemed to be paying off, though, if the noises she made were any indication of how he was doing.

Spencer's hands came up to rest on her hips as he settled on his stomach between her thighs, hissing softly when his erection pressed into the mattress. His eyes met hers, and the clouded look in her eyes was all the encouragement he needed.

"God, you're soaked," he whispered in astonishment as his finger traced the damp spot in the front of her panties, causing a breathy chuckle to slip from her lips.

"How could I not be?"

Spencer blushed, leaning down to kiss her inner thigh before pulling the fabric down her legs. His breath hitched at the sight of her glistening pussy, fully on display for him without the barrier of their windows in his way. Any coherent thought that was swirling around in his head vanished, replaced with an urgent need to taste her. He moved without thinking as he latched his mouth onto her eagerly, groaning against her slick skin as he began to lap at her hungrily.

"Fuck! Spencer—" Y/N cried out, her grip on his hair tightening at the unexpected pleasure. Her head tipped back against her pillows as her hips writhed under his ministrations, rolling against his mouth as he devoured her.

There was little to no technique— just pure, unbridled enthusiasm. But it felt so good that she didn't care. He alternated between sucking at her clit and thrusting his tongue into her, needy moans slipping from his lips the entire time he did.

"Fingers, baby—" she gasped, biting her lower lip harshly to stifle a loud moan. "Use your fingers, too."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He pulled away from her, licking the taste of her from his lips as he brought two fingers up to her entrance. He focused his gaze on her face as he pushed them inside of her, his mouth hanging open and soft breaths panting against her skin as he began to thrust them.

"Like this?"

His tone wasn't cocky or arrogant. It was curious, like he was genuinely invested in finding out what felt the best for her. She nodded, a choked moan slipping from her lips as he grazed against that rough patch of nerves inside of her that had her hips thrashing.

Spencer watched in fascination for a moment before bringing his head back down, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to trace her clit with his tongue. His hips rocked instinctively against the bed, grinding against it in a desperate attempt to find some relief for his aching cock as he brought her closer and closer to her climax.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, her hands falling from his hair to grip the sheets as she clenched around his fingers. "I-I'm cumming—"

Spencer groaned against her, doubling his efforts so he could watch her fall apart on his fingers. With a soft cry, Y/N came hard, her eyes squeezing shut as she trembled underneath him. He continued his movements, pumping his fingers into her gently until she was whining and wriggling away from his touch.

Spencer watched her in awe, kneading her thighs and hips to help her come down from her high.

"C'mere," she panted after a few minutes, finally opening her eyes to look up at him as he moved to hover above her.

A proud grin made its way to Spencer's face as he obeyed, resting on his forearms as he looked down at her. The hazy look in her eyes made his heart race, knowing that he was the cause of it doing more for his ego than he cared to admit. She returned his grin, leaning up to kiss him softly and tasting herself on his tongue.

"You did so good, sweetheart. Such a good boy for me," she mumbled against his lips.

She broke the kiss to press on his shoulders, rolling them over so she straddled him once more. A lazy smirk adorned her lips as he looked up at her, his pupils so dilated that the soft brown of his eyes was indiscernible. She began to rock her hips against his aching cock, a sigh slipping from her lips as her folds dragged over him.

Spencer moaned lowly at the friction, bringing his hands up to palm at her ass as she continued her movements. His fingers dug into her flesh as she spoke, but he didn't hear a single word she said as he kept his gaze locked on where her pussy was gliding along his length.

"Hey," Y/N cooed, patting his cheek gently to guide his eyes back to hers. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."

Spencer whined, his hips bucking underneath hers in an attempt to bring back the delicious friction that had been taken away when she lifted her hips. "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't listening," Spencer mumbled sheepishly, his face flushed as he held her gaze.

Y/N chuckled, tutting in mock disappointment as she gripped his chin. "I know you weren't," she muttered with an arched brow before continuing. "I was asking if you wanted to use a condom or not. I'm clean and—"

"No condom!"

Y/N jumped, startled. The urgency in his voice sent a wave of warmth through her as she eyed him in amusement, enjoying the bashful look that immediately appeared on his face after his exclamation. Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to regain some of his dignity.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to borderline shout that," Spencer said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "I just— I want to feel you, please. Without a condom in the way, preferably."

The grin that spread across her face could only be described as salacious as she nodded, cradling his face before leaning in for a tender kiss.

"No condom it is, then."

Y/N shifted up onto her knees, reaching between them to align him with her entrance before pausing when he spoke up.

"I— um... C-can I be on top of you instead?" he whispered, looking up at her with nervous eyes.

Her gaze softened at the sight, and she nodded immediately. "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want, remember?" She murmured with a fond smile, rolling off of him to lay back against the pillows.

Spencer thanked her quietly, moving to hover above her once more. His body trembled as he propped up on one arm, reaching down to line himself up with her once more. She cradled his face, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone reassuringly. He took a deep breath to steady himself before pushing forward, sinking into her.

The feeling of her tight walls wrapping around him had him keening while she moaned just as loudly in return, dropping his head into the crook of her neck as he sucked in desperate, shaky breaths. He'd never experienced pleasure so overwhelming before. He was honestly convinced he'd died right there in her arms, pressing sloppy kisses to her skin just to prove to himself that he was, in fact, still alive.

"God— feels so good," he began to babble, moaning softly as he pulled his hips back slightly before thrusting forward again. "So tight... so wet— fuck!"

Y/N dug her nails into his shoulders, whimpering as he thrusted into her again, this time a little harder. "That's it, Spence," she panted, encouraging him to begin really moving. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking deep."

Spencer's hips jerked at that, his head dropping back into the crook of her neck as he began to drive into her in short, jagged thrusts. Moans slipped freely from his lips, mingling with hers as their bodies moved in tandem.

It didn't take long before the familiar tightening in his stomach came back, but he was too lost in the pleasure to stop. The feeling of Y/N around him was addictive. He seeked solace in her walls, rutting into her like a man possessed now as he sang her his praises against her skin. His hips stuttered as he lifted his head up, crashing his lips onto hers in a messy kiss as his hips pounded against hers even harder.

"Gonna— cum, fuck, I'm cumming—"

Spencer cried out against her lips, burying himself as deep inside of her as he could before filling her with rope after rope of his release. A pitiful noise fell from his lips as he broke the kiss, his eyes wide as he gawked down at her. His hips stopped moving, but before he could speak, Y/N was looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down.

“Did I say you could stop fucking me, Spencer?” Y/N’s voice was taunting in his ear, her nails digging into his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him in place.

Spencer’s brows pinched together as confusion washed over him, and his arms trembled as he struggled to remain hovering above her. His cock twitched inside of her as she canted her hips up, causing him to hiss softly from the overstimulation. His lower lip wobbled as he stared at her with a half-dazed, half-pleading look.

"W-what?"

“You greedy boy,” Y/N purred as she rolled her hips again. She smirked at the whimper he let out before tilting her head to skim her lips across his. “Don’t you want to feel me cum on your cock? Hm?”

Spencer shuddered at her words, chasing helplessly after her lips. He whined petulantly when she tilted her head, keeping him from succeeding in getting his kiss.

“I do,” Spencer whimpered, nodding fervently. “I wanna feel it so bad,” he groaned, his words beginning to slur from the pleasure coursing through him from head to toe.

“Then keep fucking me, sweetheart.”

A determined look crossed over his face, his brows knitting together as he shifted up onto his knees and pulled her hips up before thrusting forward. The change in angles had her crying out as he brushed against her sweet spot, and he grunted as he began to rock into her slowly, pushing past the sweet sting of overstimulation. He tightened his grip on her hip with one hand while his other moved to where they were connected, rubbing small, sloppy circles against her clit as he began moving with a purpose.

“Mm—“ Y/N groaned out, her eyes threatening to close as she struggled to keep them focused on his face. “Just like that, Spence. Ah—!“

The sound of his hips snapping against hers paired with the slick, crude sound of him fucking his cum back into her had his head lolling back, a guttural moan rumbling in his throat.

His hips were relentless, chasing her pleasure more so than his own now. It was messy and borderline feral—their mixed arousal coated his pelvis and her thighs and one of the corners of the sheets had come up from Y/N yanking at them. But neither of them could find it in themselves to care.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Spencer begged, shifting her legs up onto his shoulders and clinging to her thighs as he drove into her. “Please—wanna feel you cum on my cock… I need it—“

The sound of his pleading hurled her over the edge. Y/N’s nails nearly tore through the sheets as her eyes squeezed shut, cry after cry of his name falling from her open mouth as she came around him. Her body trembled from the force of her orgasm, her walls clenching so tightly around him that it triggered his second climax unexpectedly.

“Oh my God— oh— fuck!” Spencer wailed, devolving into a series of whimpers as he spilled everything he had into her.

After a moment of ragged breathing, he turned to press a kiss to her ankle before easing her limp legs off of his shoulders and to the bed. Y/N stroked his hair with shaky hands as he crumpled over on top of her, their bodies warm and damp with sweat. Their chests were heaving as they struggled to catch their breath, with Y/N whispering into his hair how good he did and how perfect he’d made her feel.

They stayed curled up for a while, but eventually, the stickiness became too much to ignore. They both stumbled into her bathroom—both for a quick shower and for Y/N to pee to avoid a UTI. After changing the sheets, they returned to her bed, and Y/N turned away to switch off the lamp, leaving them wrapped in the peaceful darkness.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” Spencer asked, a shy grin on his face as she turned back to him, snuggling into his embrace as he pulled her closer.

Y/N huffed out a soft, sleepy laugh, nodding against him. “If you want me to be, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion as her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Of course I want you to,” Spencer replied, his words followed by a small yawn as sleep started to take hold of him too.

“Looks like it’s official then. I’m your girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend. Now, get some rest, my sweet boy.”

It wasn’t until the following evening, after a full day spent with Y/N on their first official date—a trip to the museum and lunch at his favorite restaurant—that he noticed something tucked into his pocket. A giddy grin spread across Spencer’s face as he unfolded the lacy pink panties, a small note tucked inside that read: For you to take on your next case. ;) xoxo - Y/N.

Spencer glanced down at the fabric in his hands, a soft chuckle escaping him as he silently thanked whatever force had made her the one to fill the vacant apartment across from his.

Continued A/N’s and tag list!! <3: Big big thank you to everyone that enjoyed part one and came back to read part two :’) And thank you to everyone that wanted to be tagged!! If you guys would like for me to start doing an official tag list, please let me know :’) <3 @halfbloodwriter , @opheliahotchner , @mothgrrrl666 , @silver138, @elliet1ou

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #spencer Reid x fem!reader #spencer Reid x self insert #criminal minds smut #perv!spencer #sub!spencer

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russellsppttemplates · 11 months ago

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Hey girl I was the anon that requested Herve being a mommas boy while reader recently gave birth and it was sooo sooo adorable. You killed ittt

Would you be okay with writing a story part 2 blurb to it where maybe Herve still is being stubborn and Charles explains it to him and then he comes and apologises to his mama🥹🥹🥹

Note: thank you 💗 I'm happy you liked it!

"Hervé, can I come in? I need to talk to you", Charles said as he walked inside your son's bedroom after he nodded, "Is this about what I did?", Hervé mumbled.

"Yes, it is. That can't happen anymore, just because something didn't go your way and mama wasn't there for you at that moment it doesn't mean that you get to behave like that", Charles stated, "if there is something troubling you, you can talk to me".

Hervé stayed silent for a bit before he spoke up, "mama is always with Amélie, and when she isn't with her she's tired and can't play with me or when she plays, she's really slow", he explained his feelings, "and I miss having mama for myself", he nudged his foot on the floor.

"Mon petit, that's what happens when we have a baby - it happened when you were born too", Charles said, sitting next to him on his bed, "when you wete born, mama was tired because she was the one feeding you and you woke up a few times during the night, and then her body was healing as well - from what she tells me, some days it still hurts even if it hasn't hurt for a few days, and it's not something she can control.

"And now she has Amélie, and Amélie is little, so she needs help with everything - changing diapers, feeding, burping, changing clothes, baths, everything! And we boys have to protect Amélie and mama and make sure they're happy and healthy, so sometimes we have to be patient and understanding", he finished.

"Okay", Hervé sighed, "she still loves me, right?", he mused, "Of course she does, we both do, buddy", Charles ruffled his wavy hair.

"I should go apologise to mama", Hervé said before getting up and heading to meet you in the living room, seeing his sister asleep in the cot you kept downstairs.

"Hey, Hervé", you smiled at seeing him in a better mood than before, "mama, I want to apologise to you, I'm sorry for saying those things and for screaming", he said, approaching you.

Straightening your back and hissing at the pressure from your sensitive boobs, you held your arms out for him to cuddle, "apology accepted, amour, come here", you pulled him closer, "Amélie needs a lot of my help - and she's always on my boobs, right?", you playfully rolled your eyes, getting him and Charles to giggle, "so there will be times where I can't do everything with you, but I'll try to be better, okay?", you promised me.

"You're already the best, mama, I'm sorry I did those things, I love you and Amélie and papa", he said into your neck, fist grasping the fabric of your shirt, "Thank you, amour, I know you do", you smiled, kissing his cheek and waving at Charles to join the cuddle.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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hedwig221b · 4 days ago

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Omg ok I was having more thoughts about those baby trapping asks from before. Please excuse the unhingedness that is about to follow, and I guess TW for birth control tampering:

I think we're all in agreement that Derek being obsessed with breeding Stiles is hot as hell. And yes maybe Stiles is very much into it in the moment, but isn't actually ready for the kiddo yet (I'm thinking he's like a freshman in college, so he wants to wait a but before fully settling down to start a family). And now normally Derek loves Stiles being so independent, but about this? Yeah no Derek just wants a baby with his mate asap because he's so possessive and jealous of others flirting with Stiles all the time (like in your fic Untouchable!).

If this is a/b/o, omega!Stiles is def on some type of birth control. But maybe Derek, in a moment of pure want and possessiveness after some other alpha flirts with Stiles for the millionth time, switches out Stiles' birth control for something else. And then later that night he breeds Stiles like the world is ending the next day lmao.

In my head Stiles totally knows what Derek is doing, and while he should be angry, all he feels is horny lol. So he lets Derek continue to change out his birth control until he starts to throw up in the morning.

I'm actually like so obsessed with this whole idea of horny Derek going dark mode 😳 like, he's in a rut, and he has completely lost his mind, and he would do anything to have a baby with Stiles, and he goes completely off the rails, and and and-

Listen LISTEN IMAGINE alpha Derek becomes the new leader of the pack since Talia stepped down, and he's older (😳🤭) and Stiles is a young omega barely into uni. And they just click and they are obsessed with one another, but the Hales think Stiles is only after Derek's money. And then Derek goes dark mode and gets Stiles pregnant, and Stiles freaks out bc now Derek is gonna think he's a gold digger as well and wants to baby trap him. He doesn't know what to do, and as time goes by Derek gets more and more obsessed and wolfish (cause he knows he got his mate pregnant so his instincts go nuts). When they're having sex Derek keeps saying this freaky kinky stuff about breeding and how good Stiles would look pregnant, and Stiles starts to think that maybe... maybe Derek really wouldn't mind... But then Talia confronts him first about his true intentions, and Stiles is a mess, and he runs away (bc I love when Stiles runs away...) Derek finds him and Stiles finally confesses and they have sex and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts

@salty-fryingpan Salty.... Salty, come here, you have to see this...

#anon I love u #im going feral #sterek #mpreg #you think im not gonna write it bc im gonna... im gonna do it...#im gonna make stiles so beautiful when he cries #and... untouchable... my beloved.... oh im hOWLING #anon asks #hedwig221b replies #god i hope this post is coherent lmao bc im sooo deep into this idea rn

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.

Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye

A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏

Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~

Prev. Chapter // Next Chapter

The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual.

When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.

“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck.

After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more.

“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough.

“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?”

You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you.

“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all.

“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man.

“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.”

“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby.

You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips.

You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow.

“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you.

“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you.

“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again.

You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.

–X–

You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still.

You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs.

“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again.

He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going.

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you.

“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want.

He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge.

His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch.

“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man.

“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan.

With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly.

“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer.

“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper.

“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….”

–X–

“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet.

“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face.

Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was.

“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues.

Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you.

A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity.

His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.

His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had.

“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close.

Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts.

It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation.

You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise.

Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to.

🏷️@w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @kapeyama @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @jamiemuscatosslut @sharkcat1928 @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zada-quinn @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover

@softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @cow-parsley @wakaladjarin @itsyagrillkat @ratbastardchild @crazyforreid @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @myinnerwonderlandmind @axionn @bastard-chicken-3 @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil @shqwqrma @shits8gigs @rosiehale23 @sadroses97 @destielshipper88

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webslingingslasher · 11 months ago

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ok but he’s so lame bc why NOT just the tip

her gorilla grip coochie isn’t gonna vacuum suck his dick all the way in 😭😭😭😭😭

(it might)

but like.... if he did one night? i mean, after you've done everything but that and you're a little extra pleading and... *nsfw content!*

'just the tip.'

'no.'

'c'mon, peter. sex is next so think of this as a... i don't know, a baby step! yeah, this is educational if you think about it, just another way of preparing me for the next thing!'

peter's looking over your face, he always thought it was a joke but you've thought it out. peter sees a lightbulb appear over your head.

'plus i'm all primed, if you know what i mean... i mean how you just ate me out, so i'm all wet and there's less risk of it h-'

'i know what you mean.' you grin, it was peter's turn next anyways, why not throw this into the mix first? 'cool. it's just the tip, it probably won't feel like anything, anyways.'

'thanks, cherry. that's very kind of you.' you wince, 'sorry. obviously i'm gonna feel something but it won't be like i'm being split in half. unless-'

'you're serious.' you actually want him to do it. you furrow your eyebrows, isn't it obvious? 'well, yeah.'

'i always thought you were joking, but no, you're serious.'

you shift around and tug peter's blanket down, you spread wide for him. 'so serious.' he's hesitant, you lightly kick him and lower your voice.

'don't you wanna be in me?' peter's throbbing, he's just a man at heart, he can only be so good and he's been very good up until now, he's allowed this.

'so bad.' you have no idea how long he's been waiting for this. no idea. 'then come here and give me the tip.' you make grabby hands, your heart's drumming hard, you're about to get what you want.

you almost scream out in excitement when he settles between your legs, lifting your hips to have your thighs rest on his. shifting, he's almost where you want him, you're held down with his hand on your tummy, you're gripping around nothing.

'i need a condom.' peter leans over you, you pull his arm down. 'no you don't, it's just the tip.'

'that's not how it works.'

you shake your head, 'i'm on birth control. i have been for years, it helps with my period.' peter's never done anything without a barrier, he's unsure but you know how to talk him into it.

'i just wanna feel you, don't i deserve the real thing?' if it was anyone else peter would be backing out calling for a baby trap, but with you he just falls in and can't think straight.

'you can have anything you want.' you can, peter wants to do nothing but make you happy. he loves when you're happy because you got your way.

'yeah?' your pupils are blown wide, you reach for him, begging for him to come just a little closer. 'wanna give me what i want?' peter's hot, he's about to start sweating and he hasn't done anything but rest your thighs on his and contain himself.

you hold your breath in anticipation. peter grips the headboard with his left hand as support, his right hand goes down, you startle when you feel... something collecting your slick.

his tip brushes over your clit, you bite down on your bottom lip. you can't stop from squeaking when a string of spit falls from peter's mouth, watching him softly jerk himself for a moment before lining up. it's filthy. you want all of him.

'we're not having sex.' you're not sure if peter was setting the rule for you or him, it doesn't matter, you agree with him. 'it's just the tip. that's it.'

peter nods once, 'just the tip.' his hips move, your hand slams down, you're searching for his. 'hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my-' peter has to switch, his left has control and his right has yours.

they're intertwined, it's less scary now. 'okay, i'm ready.' your lower stomach tightens and relaxes, your hips move with his, you feel him press in closer and closer and closer- your hand squeezes his- peter's back to holding the headboard.

you gasp loudly at the pressure, you melt into his sheets and throw your head back. unexpected reaction, you laugh lightly, not because it's funny, because 'it feels so fucking good.'

peter's fingers go white around the wood, he's using every single atom in his body to show restraint. the hand you're not holding his with, pulls at his waist.

'give me more.' peter feels the board bending under his grip, he's better than his, this wasn't how it was supposed to go, this wasn't how you were supposed to lose your virginity.

'it's like you're teasing me.' peter speaks through gritted teeth, all his focus was on not doing what you were asking. 'yeah, honey, that's the problem with just the tip, it's never just the tip.'

'mhm. i feel so full, oh my god.'

peter breaks his headboard.

half is ripped from the other, you go from pleasure to shock, you push at his chest while trying to sit up, pulling away from him entirely. 'oh my god! oh my god, what the fuck!'

dust floats over you, you cover your head, you're trying to figure out what happened. was it a bomb? and earthquake? an exploding manhole?

'peter, what the fuck was that? what happened?'

you. you happened. with the words and the noises and the begging and he couldn't fucking hold back anymore. his headboard paid the price, he can't believe what he just did.

'i don't... i don't know. i was just holding on and...' how is he supposed to explain this one? 'well, obviously it was a defective one! oh my god, are you okay?' you rip your arms away from your head, you sit up and stare at him.

'am i okay?' peter nods fast, his thumbs brush under your eyes, 'you're okay. i'm okay. we're okay.' you rest your hands over his, you stare at the half crumpled wood on the floor. you've held onto it many times, it was sturdy. you're questioning your theory.

'how the hell did that happen? it looks like you fucking ripped it apart!'

he did.

'i have no idea.' you stand up to grab your underwear and a shirt, you make some very clear points. 'okay, you need a new headboard and absolutely no more 'just the tip,' until you get one of quality. imagine if that came down on my head, i would be dead with just the tip in me!'

'i wouldn't let that happen, i'd give you the whole thing so you wouldn't die a virgin.' you pout softly, 'aw. you love me.' peter smiles, his fingers pinch together. 'a little bit.'

you stare at the mess on the floor, little pieces of wood splintered away on the fall down. 'hey- so do you think we're being punished for-'

'no.'

#the virgin files #frat!peterxvirgin!reader

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the-final-sif · 6 months ago

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Random but you know that trope in omegaverse fanfiction where omegas have to undergo a heat every so often if they're taking suppressants or it's bad for them? Generally every three months or so?

I'm 99% sure that concept largely comes from the fact 3 month birth control pills will have 7 placebo pills at the end, and when you take them you get your period.

People often assume that there's some health reason that you have to take the 7 pills and have a period. Like you have to reset your cycle or something.

But like.

You don't.

You can just skip the 7 placebo pills and start on the next pack. Most that's likely to happen is light spotting when you start out. There's no reason your body needs to go through a menstrual cycle unless you're planning on getting pregnant.

The whole reason we still have those sugar pills in there is largely sexism from the 60s. Most birth control packs still have them primarily as a holdover from the time period, despite the fact medical science considers it largely unnecessary (although in the US you have at least one company that's finally ditched them, thank god).

So my new headcanon whenever I see that trope is just going to be that it's actually bullshit and omegas can just suspend heats for as long as they want, but society as a whole has tried to convince them otherwise with those dumb placebo pills.

#sif speaks #omegaverse #menstrual cycle #menstration #birth control

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phoward89 · 1 year ago

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This is based on this ask.

Coryo is a hands on dad in this. (Thank God, since he was a real piece of shit in the last daddy!Coriolanus one shot)

Everyone says that pregnancy is a beautiful experience. Women are supposed to look radiant and glowing as they're round with the new life they're growing inside of them.

What nobody tells you is that your feet and ankles swell, your back aches, you pee more than a race horse, you balloon into the size of a beluga whale, and your mood swings are all over the place because of the pregnancy hormones. Oh, and you crave the weirdest things.

Nope, people don't tell you that. You had to learn that the hard way. At least you had your husband by your side during everything.

Coriolanus is a very busy man, being the youngest President of Panem, but he always made time in his busy schedule for you. To check in on you and make sure you were okay. After all, it's his fault you're in the condition you're in.

Okay…

Well…

You both agreed to try for a baby during the honeymoon, so it technically wasn't his fault you're big and miserable right now.

Honestly, Coriolanus had baby fever and replaced your birth control pills with sugar pills a month or so before the wedding, so you were bound to get pregnant right away.

Anyways, you're currently so big that you can't do anything by yourself. Hell, you can barely even walk anymore. You're practically waddling like a duck.

And you're so emotional. You've been crying at the drop of a hat lately. Anything, literally anything, can put you into a crying drag. It was emotionally exhausting.

Your husband, the president, was surprisingly supportive of you. He doted on you. Even when you were complaining about being uncomfortable or crying your eyes out for the umpteenth time, Coryo was right by your side trying to comfort you.

Despite his cold, calculated, stoic nature that everyone saw, he was soft and loving towards you. But only you.

Because he loves you more than anything in this world.

Despite vowing to never let himself fall in love again, when you became his personal secretary when he was Senator Snow he fell for you.

It was hard not to. Your beauty paired with your personality was hard for him to resist.

So, he broke a promise to himself that he made at 18 or 19 years old. But, when it comes to love it just happens. Vowing to never fall in love's a foolish notion because one can't control who they fall in love with.

It just happens.

But, unfortunately, when he fell in love with you it wasn't when you were available. You had a long time boyfriend. And since Coriolanus wanted you to be his, he got rid of your boyfriend.

Permanently.

With poison.

And then a few months after your boyfriend was out of the picture, Coriolanus wooed you. He asked you out with pretty words and a single white rose. Of course you accepted.

Then, when he was campaigning to become Panem's youngest president, he proposed. And after he won the election, becoming President Snow, he married you; made you his First Lady Snow.

And now you're about to become a mother, another thing he had a hand in the making of.

The only problem was that your due date’s come and gone.

And you feel absolutely miserable.

“Darling, I just got off the phone with Dr. Wellock about your situation of being overdue.” Your husband, Coryo, announced as he walked into the sunroom room you were lounging in.

“What did he say?” You asked as the platinum blonde made his way over to your side.

“He says that an induction isn't done until the expecting mother is anywhere between 10-12 days overdue.” He said, taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

“So that means I have at least 5 more days of feeling miserable?” You asked, feeling tears begin to well up.

“Unfortunately, yes, my darling rose.” Coryo told you while wrapping an arm around you. Pulling you into his chest, he said, “The doctor gave me a list of things that can help to induce you naturally.” Rubbing your lower back, knowing that it was bothering you lately, you husband told you, “I'm having the kitchen staff cook the foods that'll help naturally induce you, Y/N.”

Coryo was a godsend. He was looking after you when he should be busy running the country. He didn't have an easy job.

He was the President of Panem.

And here he was catering to you. Offering you comfort and gentle reassurances during your difficult time of being overdue and feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. Felt like a burdened. And, before you could even control yourself, you started to cry into your husband's chest.

“What's wrong, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, threading his long fingers thru your hair, trying to soothe you.

“I feel bad that you're here with me instead of running the country. You’re the president, you should be working, not by my side giving me backrubs and helping me get from point A to point B all the time.”

“Y/N, darling, I might be the president, but I'm also your husband. As your husband, I put you and our unborn child before anything, including work. The wellbeing of my family will always come first, Panem second.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You asked between sobs.

Because he whacked your Academy Sweetheart.

But, Coriolanus couldn't tell you that. No, that's a secret he'll take with him to the grave. Along with all the other various murders he's committed and will keep on committing in order to be all powerful and filthy rich.

No, instead the president just presses a kiss to your head and tells you, “Dumb luck, I suppose.” Rubbing circles into your lower back, causing soft moans to fall from your lips, Coriolanus smiled, “But I consider myself the lucky one for being your husband. There's no other woman in all of Panem that I could ever see myself loving as deeply as I love you.”

Sniffing and wiping at your eyes, you say, “Don't tell me sweet stuff like that or I'll never stop crying.”

Unfortunately, labor inducing foods didn't work. So, Coryo told you that the doctor told him that sex, nipple stimulation, and orgasms could help induce labor. You laughed at him, saying that had to be a lie since, despite your huge size, you were still very sexually active with him. Coriolanus just shrugged, claiming that's what the doctor told him.

You don't know if it was from sex or just your time to go into labor, but in the middle of the night (after having late night sex with your husband) you woke up with labor pains and a soaked nightgown. When you woke up Coriolanus, telling him that it was (finally) time and that you were in labor, he quickly grabbed your baby bag and rushed you to the hospital.

The man, being a very devoted husband and father to be, drove you himself. You feared that Coryo would drag you to the hospital in his pajamas, but much to your relief he did toss on some clothes before taking you.

Once at the hospital, since you're the First Lady of Panem, you were put on VIP status and given a private room with a window view of the Rockies. You didn't really care since you were in the worst pain of your entire life, but it was a nice gesture. Coriolanus sure did enjoy the special treatment you were getting. Remarking how only the best for his love would do.

The president never left your side during your labor. He wiped your sweaty forehead with a cool cloth, buzzed the nurses for ice chips and pain meds for you, and he let you squeeze his hand to the point he thought his bones would break whenever you had a particularly painful contraction.

The hospital staff just melted at the sight of President Coriolanus Snow doting on his First Lady Y/N Snow. The nurses were swooning everytime they heard Coryo tell you, “You’re doing so well, darling.”, “I know it hurts, little dove, but soon we'll have our baby and it'll be well worth it.”, “Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, my darling rose. I served as a peacekeeper once, I can handle you breaking my hand while in labor pains.”

You were sitting up, pushing hard every 5 seconds, around 3 times per contraction. Coryo was right by your side, holding your hand and telling you, “You're doing wonderful, darling. Just a few more pushes and we'll be parents.”

The nurse in the room fought back the urge to swoon at the president’s words while the doctor just assured you that Coriolanus was right, that he could see the baby's head and after another push the baby would be born.

So, gathering all of the strength you could muster after pushing for what felt like hours, you did one last, hard push.

Your baby came out with a healthy set of lungs. Crying before even needing a spank to the butt.

Dr. Wellock held the baby up in the air, only to announce, “It's a girl!”

A girl. You and Coryo had a baby girl.

Tears of love welled up in your eyes as Coriolanus’ baby blues shines with pride as he whispered, “A baby girl.”, before pressing a soft kiss to your chapped lips.

“Mister President, Sir, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Wellock asked your husband as a nurse helped you deliver the placenta.

“Yes, I would like to.” Coriolanus replied before standing up and going over to the doctor. Silently, the doctor passed him the scissors and he cut the cord. After cutting the cord, your husband returned to your side while the doctor passed the baby over to the nurse to be cleaned and wrapped in a blanket.

“She's beautiful, darling.” Coriolanus told you as the doctor quickly cleaned you up.

“Does she have your platinum blonde hair?” You asked, a curious smile splitting your face wide open.

“Yes.” The president nodded. “She has both my light blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“You're going to be beating all the boys off with a stick in about, eh, 13 or so years.” You knowingly giggled right as the nurse appeared with your bundle of joy wrapped in a soft pink blanket and matching hat.

Handing you your daughter, the nurse asked, “What's her name?”

“Cersei.” You and Coryo answered at the same time, looking at your daughter with nothing but love.

Honestly, you were a bit nervous about how Coryo would be as a father since, after all, he had a lot on his plate as the president of the country. But it turns out that you didn't have anything to worry about. Coriolanus was a great father. He was very hands-on despite his strenuous and busy job being President of Panem.

The president always made time for his daughter and, of course, for you.

And when you went out in public, he was always by your side when wheeling your baby in the stroller. So many paparazzis would hide and flash pictures of President Snow with your daughter because it was the only way to get a picture of them together. Coryo never used Cersei for photo ops or publicity stunts. In fact he rarely talked about her at all interviews other then the general and polite answers of, “Oh, she's doing well.”, “Cersei's a happy girl.”, and “She’s hitting all of her milestones.”

Honestly, Coryo didn't like to talk too much about his daughter because he didn't want her in the limelight. He chose to become the president and you chose to become his first lady. You both knew the fame that came with it. But Cersei was born into it and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, wanted her to have as normal of a childhood as possible.

And then, when your daughter was 3, you got pregnant again. Well, you and Coriolanus weren't trying, but weren't preventing either.

You were too far along yet, just nearing your 4th month. You knew that soon you'd be blowing into the size of a balloon tho.

But you weren't thinking about that right now.

Right now, you were just smiling at the sight of your daughter curled up on your husband's lap as he read her a book during one of his breaks from his office in the presidential wing of the mansion.

“Daddy?” Your daughter, whose platinum blonde hair was in little piggy tales, asked- causing your husband to pause in his reading.

It was cute how Coriolanus melted the first time he was called Dada and decided to let his daughter call him Daddy as she grew despite telling you over and over again during your pregnancy with her that he was going to be called father or nothing at all.

She's like Cersei has your husband wrapped around her finger.

“Yes, princess?” Coryo asked your daughter, looking at her with a genuine smile.

“Mama’s here.” She excitedly told your husband with a big smile on her face.

Coryo looked up, only to tell your daughter, “Oh, so she is.” Waving you into the room, your husband said, “Come in and sit down, darling. You don't need to stand in the doorway.”

“Oh, don't mind me, I was just walking down the hall and thought that I'd just check in on my favorite people while on my way to get a snack.” You told your husband, shrugging off his offer of you joining him and your daughter in the sun room.

“Mama, I want a snack!” Cersei exclaimed.

Coryo chuckled, only to close the book he was reading and place it onto the side table by his sitting chair. Standing up, with your daughter slung on his hip, the president announced, “Looks like a family snack time’s in order before I get back to work being the President Panem.”

When Cersei was almost 4, you had your son, Cassian Xandros. Then when she was 5 you had another son, Caspian Xenos and when she was 7 you had your last child. Another son, who was named Caelestis Xanthias.

Even tho Coriolanus had not 1 but 3 boys to carry on the mighty and magnificent Snow name, it was your daughter, Cersei, that was his favorite child.

Coriolanus was a good father to all 4 of your children, but it was your daughter that had him wrapped around his finger. She was daddy's little princess. She could do no wrong in his eyes.

But your boys…oh boy…Your son's had to be perfect unless they wanted to hear Coriolanus lecture them. He expected straight A’s and top marks in school from his 3 boys. Expected them to be involved in school politics, chess club, and the debate team. And when it came time for them to be mentors in the Hunger Games for a district that didn't have a Victor to act as a mentor, well you better believe that they had to be perfect at that too.

But not Cersei. Oh no… Coryo let Cersei get away with shit that he'd never let Cassian Xandros, Caspian Xenos, and Caelestis Xanthias get away with.

Cersei didn't want to be a mentor, so guess what? Her daddy, President Snow, let her stay home sick during the games so her mentor spot had to be given to somebody else. If she wanted to quit ballet lessons after just one lesson, saying it wasn't fun, then she could. She could get away with anything she wanted to, because your husband let her.

Coriolanus spoiled his daughter rotten.

And one day, as a young woman, when Cersei went running to her daddy saying that she was in trouble (knocked up) and that the Peacekeeper that got her in that condition didn't want the responsibility of a family, you know what Coriolanus did? He just told your daughter that he'd take care of everything.

And boy did he ever…

He had tea with that peacekeeper, where only one of them walked away from the garden tea table alive, and scattered the man's family all over the districts. Making sure that his younger siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc were reaped when eligible.

Coriolanus also assured your daughter that you and him would help her raise her baby. That she'd have your support and wouldn't be alone.

So, when Cersei gave birth to her daughter, Celeste Snow, as a single mother you and Coryo were by her side. Assuring her that everything was fine, that she was going to be a great mother.

You had a sense of deja vu whenever the nurses all gossiped and giggled about how President Snow was such a good father and grandfather to be for staying by his daughter's side and supporting her despite her being an unwed mother.

Coriolanus was a great father to all of your children, but his favorite was your daughter Cersei. So, naturally, his favorite grandchild was her only daughter Celeste. He dotes on your granddaughter Celeste. She was the apple of his eye, even when the boys started getting married and having children of their own.

Coriolanus loved all his grandchildren, but Celeste was his favorite.

You on the other hand didn't have favorites. You loved all of your children and grandchildren equally.

But Coryo wasn't like you. No, your husband was the type to love obsessively, so he had to pick favorites.

So, it didn't surprise you when one day, before the games started, you walked into the sunroom to see your granddaughter and your husband having brunch. It reminded you of how he used to read to her mother all those years ago.

He might be older now with pure white hair, a distinguished white beard framing his face, and a bit more weight on his bones, but he was the same man in spirit he was all those years ago when he used to cut time out of his day just for your daughter. Now he just does it for his granddaughter.

“Grandpa, Grandma just walked in.” Celeste announced, peeling little shell pieces off of her soft boiled egg.

“I see that, darling.” Coryo told your granddaughter. Looking at you, he gestured to the empty seat next to him at the table and suggested, “Why don't you join me, my darling rose.”

“Well, I wasn't planning to, but if you insist.” You smiled, walking further into the room.

Your eyes saw the way Celeste had her hair done in a braid, that looked like the one that Victor from 12 Katniss Everdeen wore and you secretly hoped that your husband wouldn't yell at her for it. You knew how much he couldn't stand the Everdeen girl and feared that he'd be upset with Celeste for wearing her hair like the victor's.

As you sat down, you heard your husband say, “Your hair looks lovely darling, when did you start wearing it like that?”

“Everybody at school wears it like this now, grandpa.” Celeste said with a little devious smile on her face.

And the backlash never came. He just nodded his head and went on to eat his egg.

And that's when you knew that Celeste had the same power over him that Cersei did. That you had as well.

Coriolanus Snow might be a cold, evil, dictator of a president, but to his granddaughter, daughter, and wife he's just a man that loves them unconditionally to the point where it might be considered a weakness if anyone knew.

And perhaps that's why he never speaks much about his girls in interviews. He'll speak about his boys, but not his girls.

Because if anything ever happened to his girls, well…the president wouldn't know what to do with him.

That's how much he loves his darling girls.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503 @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @v-love

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