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#i think this top and the skirt go together really well

writerpeach · 18 days

Text

Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

---

Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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targaryen-dynasty · 8 months

Text

LITTLE LIGHTS.

Prev. Part | Final Part

Maegor Targaryen x pregnant!niece!Reader

WORDS: 2 K

WARNINGS: childbirth, swearing, blink and you’ll miss Maegor being his cunty self again

NOTES: Here is the highly requested Part 2 of Precious Delights! Tbh, I haven't put much thought into the exact details, so most of it probably doesn't make any sene, but Reader is Rhaena's twin. Tyanna died before the wedding.

Tyanna of the Tower had been long dead before Maegor had claimed your hand in marriage and that alone seemed to be as fruitful as it was, since your pregnancy had lasted full ten moons.

You were exhausted beyond belief, pacing your chambers up and down with screams of despair and heavy groans leaving your throat at any contraction that rippled through your body. The maids had been calling for Maegor five times by now, but your husband was nowhere to be found.

“He is meeting with the small council, I fucking know!“ You groaned as the guard stepped into your chambers to inform you about his unsuccessful mission, your ladies-in-waiting taken aback by your sudden outburst for you had been notorious for nothing else but being soft-spoken and calm.

The maids, and Grand Maester Benifer, more often than not had advised you to lie down on your bed for reasons of comfort and safety, yet your body told you not to.

“Where is he really?” you hissed through gritted teeth when a particularly harsh contraction forced you to your knees, clinging to the bedpost as if your life depended on it. Clad in nothing more than a thin, white underdress, you still felt confined, the linen scratching your skin as you ached to tear it off your body.

Talisa rushed to your side, her gentle hand on the small of your back not mending your discomfort and the confusion and fear you felt at the thought of mastering the birth all by yourself. “We must begin, Princess,” she urged, and despite not being able to think straight at that point, you still heard the tinge of worry in her voice.

You threw your head back, groaning in agony as another contraction followed that forced you to push. Your arms clasped around the bedpost, your sweaty forehead resting against the wood, while you became busy focusing on pushing.

Too lost in the burning sensation of the babe’s head beginning to crown, you barely noticed the door to the chambers opening, revealing none other than your husband himself.

Your maid lifted the skirt of your underdress to gauge the process of the birth, paying much less attention to Maegor than you did, as your safety and well-being seemed to be her top priority. Or perhaps it was the well-being of the heir that concerned her most.

“Where have y–” The words caught in your throat at a harsh contraction and the heightened pain. Your knuckles turned white from how tightly you clung to the bedpost, your maid’s words not making it easier for you. “I can see the head, Princess, just a few more pushes.”

If it wasn’t for your mind dealing with all the different sensations coursing through your body at once, you surely would’ve noticed the way Maegor stood completely frozen in the doorway at your maid’s words.

“Please… make it stop,” you pleaded with a strained voice, clenching your jaw as you pushed once again. Then, the pain settled for a few moments, allowing you to steady your breath and calm down for the time being.

A sheen of sweat covered your skin, silver strands of your hair clinging to your face, and the white linen of your underdress was slightly dampened at your back and arms. You raised your head to lock eyes with Maegor, and the sheer audacity of him just standing there useless made your blood boil and soured your mood. “This is… this is all your fault,” you hissed through gritted teeth, though the words were interrupted by groans, “gods… you cunt!”

Perhaps the maester had informed him beforehand about what was going on in a woman’s body during her labors, or perhaps he was cunning enough to put one and one together, but he hardly took any offense to your harsh words. Quite the contrary happened, as the insult seemed to pull him out of his shocked state, prompting him to pass the maids and maester, dismissing all their efforts to talk and inform him about the process of the birth to crouch down beside you.

Talisa was flabbergasted by Maegor’s movements, her mouth agape with no words leaving her lips for a few seconds, before another scream of you brought her back to the task at hand. “Bear down and push, Princess,” she instructed, and you did as she told.

Maegor’s paw replaced the maid’s hand on your lower back, his other one raising to cup your folded hands, and you were quick to seize it to squeeze it instead, causing him to take in a sharp breath. “Just a few more,” he encouraged, and you merely groaned in despair. He could be lucky you were occupied by birthing him his long awaited heir, fulfilling your wifely duties, because otherwise you probably would’ve smacked him across his face.

When the pain got worse all of the sudden, you released a scream that was louder than the ones before, and pushed not once, but twice, until a sudden wave of relief washed over you and you heard the cries of the babe. It lived.

Your husband’s attention immediately shifted from you to the newborn, and when the maester cut the cord, Maegor forced him and the maid to usher the babe out of your reach. “What is it?” you asked, your voice weak from the exhausting procedure you had to endure.

But every sense of calmness and comfort washed away when another contraction soared through your body, and a scream of yours seized the attention of Talisa. “It’s the afterbirth,” she tried to reassure you, but her loud gasp proved otherwise, more so as she rose to fetch the maester.

The urge to bear down once again was too strong to ignore it, pushing yet again. “Gods,” you whimpered, tears running down your flushed and sweaty cheeks, “it hurts.”

Maegor towered over the maester, while he lifted the skirts of your underdress, to spot yet another head breach your body. “Another child,” he proclaimed, whereas you only groaned an ‘I can not do this again’ in your state of shock and pain.

But you could, and not many moments after, the second babe’s cries pierced through your agonizing groans and pants, only to be seized by your husband and the maester again. This time around, the maids tended to you, gripping your arms to help your weakened frame onto the large bed.

When the screams of both children grew silent, a certain uneasiness washed over your body, and you would’ve loved nothing more than to get up and grab both children to leave the goddamned Keep altogether. “Bring them to me,” you demanded, but when no one seemed to move to your orders, you merely managed to whine a desperate ‘please’.

Maegor was the first one to act, slowly creeping closer towards you. He held a bundle of linen in his arms, looking ridiculously small in comparison to his muscular chest and arms, and presented one babe to you. “A boy,“ he said, and you already smiled when you spotted the silver tuft of hair peeking from beneath the cloth. He bowed toward you to show you the small, scrunched face, and you reached forward to take him in your arms, but Maegor just tsked and pulled him back, “you’re too weak, my love, get some rest first.“

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Benifer came forward, looking at the King, “but at the Citadel they say that it’s best for the mother and the child to let it nurse right after birth.”

With a grim expression on his face, Maegor’s eyes darted to you for a moment. “That is what wet nurses are for.” At this point, your bottom lip trembled, realization settling in that you had been nothing more than a pawn to your uncle.

Grand Maester Benifer brought a hand to Maegor’s shoulder and ushered him a few steps away from you, their deep voices suddenly turning into whispers you could barely hear. “She has given you two healthy heirs, my King. You ought not risk her life, for she can give you even more.”

Maegor merely nodded at that, and when he turned around, the soft look in his eyes was unsettling you. He handed you the boy without any fuss, but didn’t leave your side as you pulled down the neckline of your underdress to free your breast and allow your child to latch. While his eyes were pale blue, you couldn’t wait for the day they’d be as lilac as yours, staring up at you with the same intensity they carried now. You smoothed his tuft of silver hair, the soft smacking and cooing while he swallowed your milk calming your worries and fear a bit.

In less than an hour after birthing twins, you had taken on a motherly aura that no doubt even softened the cold heart of your uncle-husband for he gently brushed the knuckle of his index finger over the small boy’s cheek. “I have named him Aerion,” Maegor stated matter-of-factly, and you just nodded, admiring the memorial of your great-grandsire.

“And the girl?” you asked, not able to tear your eyes from the delicate creature in your arms. “That is up to you,” your husband replied, and with a come hither motion of his fingers, the maid brought over another bundle of linen. That piqued your interest, and Maegor seemed to notice, since he pulled the cloth down enough for you to spot her scrunched face. She was just as beautiful as her brother. Despite her being barely an hour old, you spotted a few similarities to your grandaunt in her features, and hoped she would grow up to be as fierce as her. “Visenya.”

Maegor raised his brow at that, obviously not expecting you to name your daughter after his mother, but he welcomed the sentiment by pulling his lips into a soft smile that perhaps even sparked a hint of admiration and affection to flicker in his violet eyes.

Once the boy was done nursing, his place was taken by his sister, though you placed her so she latched on your other breast. The relief it brought you was unmatchable, and the peaceful, nurturing feeling the nursing granted made your heart swell with love.

“My sister has placed dragon eggs in the cradles of my younger siblings, and I want the same for our children,” you said, your fingers mindlessly dancing along the crown of the newborn’s head. “A clutch of eggs laid by Dreamfyre is still kept here in the Keep.”

You lifted your head to gauge where Maegor had taken Aerion, slightly panicked that you had seen the last of the boy, only to spot him sitting on a chaise not too far away with the sleeping boy cradled in his muscular arms. His head was bowed forward, and his whole attention was focused on his son. It was a moment of unusual softness, and you didn’t know he possessed a trait like that–or rather that he kept it up even after the children were born.

When he raised his head to meet your expectant gaze, he was quick to address the maids with a stern tone he had rarely used in your presence for the past few moons. “You have heard your Queen’s demands. Bring her the eggs, so she can choose the ones most suitable for your King’s heirs.”

You hadn’t noticed the silence surrounding you four before, maids and maester alike silenced in awe, and only appreciated it once it was gone with the hurried rustling and stomping from the staff exiting the room.

And when night overcame King’s Landing, two cradles carrying the most precious creatures standing in front of your marital bed, your uncle-husband joined you for the first time since the start of your pregnancy, sharing the bed with you without any bawdy intentions on his mind.

Ever since you were forced to leave your mother on Dragonstone to take Maegor’s hand in marriage, you felt at ease in the confines of the Red Keep, despite not knowing what the forthcoming summers might hold for you.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1

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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months

Text

Tutor Me

michael gavey x bimbo!reader

A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.

TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps

word count: 2,099 words

You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.

Was he waiting at the door for you?

He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.

“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.

“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in.

You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.

“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.

“Started with what?” He blurts out.

“Trig?”

“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.

You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.

“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.

“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”

“Clearly.”

“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.

“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.

“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”

Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.

“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.

“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.

You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”

“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.

“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.

“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”

“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.

“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.

“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”

He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.

“Out.” He says finally.

“What?”

“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.

“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.

“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.

“I’m not leaving,”

“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.

“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.

“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.

“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.

“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.

“I do.”

“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

“You really want to kiss me?’

“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.

Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.

That was easy.

“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.

“Sit down on the bed.”

He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.

“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”

“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.

“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”

“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.

“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet.

“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.

“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.

You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.

“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised.

“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.

He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.

“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.

Then you realize.

He just came in his pants.

When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.

“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.

“Michael-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just look at me-”

“That’s so bloody humiliating.”

He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around.

You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.

“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”

He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.

“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.

He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.

“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.”

“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.

“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.

“No?” He grins a little.

“I just needed to adjust.”

“To my huge dick?”

Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.

“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.

“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.

You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”

His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.

“F-Fuck.”

He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.

“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”

He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.

“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.

He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”

“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”

He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.

“Let me eat your pussy then.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #saltburn smut #saltburn #ewanverse #ewan mitchell

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thatonebabybat · 5 months

Text

Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

youtube

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

Text

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you.

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time.

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life.

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night.

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you.

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him.

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.)

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s.

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on.

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past.

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.)

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’.

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy.

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters.

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said.

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.)

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.”

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you.

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked.

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’.

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at.

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.”

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture.

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates.

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now.

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.”

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth.

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye.

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief.

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.”

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about.

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.”

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids.

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-”

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?”

“One nightmare! It was only one!”

The subject of children was forgotten, then.

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation.

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

…

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment.

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty.

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to.

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done.

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles.

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle.

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son.

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast.

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV.

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it.

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him.

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right.

He crouched down to the boy’s level.

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps.

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh.

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission.

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one.

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer.

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.”

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up.

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this.

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction.

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return.

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.)

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind.

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly.

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time.

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness.

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this.

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied.

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench.

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from.

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face.

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.”

Spencer smiled at this.

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player.

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer.

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.”

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments.

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears.

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him.

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life.

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother.

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun.

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture.

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile.

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker.

He liked Star Wars.

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out.

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now.

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room.

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?”

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.”

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed.

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door.

That gutted him even more. Spence.

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost.

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears.

Your throat tightened up.

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible.

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with.

He cared so much.

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son.

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child.

“Spencer, please-”

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear.

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him.

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective.

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with.

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught.

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation.

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again.

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case.

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone.

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?”

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized.

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant.

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?”

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow-

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him.

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.”

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.”

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened.

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself.

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.”

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ.

“Reid, hey.”

She sounded worried.

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone.

Before he could ask, she spoke up again.

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once.

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself.

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.”

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.”

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand.

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud.

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.”

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied.

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her.

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell.

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant.

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.”

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.”

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud.

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized.

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.”

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?”

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.”

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.”

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’”

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?”

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?”

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child.

Just then, Emily came back into the room.

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced.

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered.

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.”

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call.

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom.

It truly hit him, then.

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man.

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV.

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?”

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness.

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation.

(So this was a habit of his?)

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him.

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?”

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked.

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied.

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him.

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together.

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner.

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up.

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to.

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch.

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said.

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.”

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-”

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.”

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV.

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-”

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken.

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day.

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus.

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-”

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife.

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm.

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds.

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot.

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed.

There it was.

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him.

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely.

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself.

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you.

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot.

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date.

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him?

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?”

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension.

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant.

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere.

…

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family.

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice.

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut.

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger.

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be.

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door.

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself.

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?”

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly.

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice.

“Here, go with your-”

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’.

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.”

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,”

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now.

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step.

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again.

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table.

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice.

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself.

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter.

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was.

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well.

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for.

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him.

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding.

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him.

“Okay!” He cheered brightly.

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there.

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.)

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.”

You stared down at the items in horror.

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window.

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker.

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed.

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug.

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea.

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you.

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face.

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?”

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you.

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now.

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you.

Oh, how things change.

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug.

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station.

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number.

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.”

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.”

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?”

“Hold on.”

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch.

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“What is it?” Spencer prodded.

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.”

Spencer didn’t like where this was going.

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him.

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-”

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed.

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly.

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.”

Then, something else occurred to Spencer.

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.”

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted.

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer.

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win.

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.”

Spencer hated that it was their only choice.

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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m4tthewsgf · 3 months

Text

Period pain

Chris Sturniolo x fem reader

Summary: fluffy shit where Chris comforts his girl while she's experiencing period cramps and all that good shit

Warnings: language, blood

Author's Note: just got my period and I'm slowly dying HAHA (send me some chocolate pls). Anyway, sorry this is short lmao. Enjoy!!! You're enough!!!

---

You loved being a woman. You truly did. You loved putting together silly little outfits, wearing short skirts and crop tops and doing your makeup. It's a privilege being a girl. There's so much beauty in being one and the relationship that women have with each other is magical. There's something so special about it that no words can correctly describe it, but just the fact that we're women all together simply unites us.

However, there are a lot of things that came with being a woman that were ugly. Men who think they own anything and anyone, society's standards, sexism, patriarchy.... the list goes on. But periods? That was a goddamn curse.

You viewed women as superheroes. The fact that our bodies are able to create a whole new body with a heart and bones and brain from scratch is truly fascinating. Scary, but fascinating. That was our superpower. Yet, you and your boyfriend, Chris, were too young to start a family, even though you want to make him a father one day, and now your body is punishing you for that.

Your period pain was the worst. Your cramps felt like knives stabbing your guts, you had extreme migraines and headaches, back pain and on top of that, you were obviously bleeding out of your fucking uterus. Your mood swings were insane, to say the least, and so were your cravings.

Chris had been in a relationship with you for almost a year now so he knew what the deal was and he always tried his best to make you as comfortable as possible. You appreciated his willingness. It was adorable.

You were currently laying in your bed in a fetal position, hoping that the way you've folded your body would ease some of the pain. You have already texted your boyfriend and cancelled the plans you had made for this evening; he wanted to take you out to have a dinner date. You really wanted to go, the two of you haven't gone on a date in a while now, but you could barely breathe from the pain.

Just when you were about to put a movie on the laptop you had settled right next to you, you heard your front door open.

"Baby?" Said Chris from downstairs.

"Bedroom!" you yelled with as much energy you could. You were sure that dying would hurt less than that.

You heard your wooden stairs creak, indicating that Chris was making his way up to your room. You smiled at yourself.

"There's my angel!" He greeted you and planted a couple of kisses on your forehead and cheeks, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling baby?" he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on the mattress and softly caressing you hair.

"Honestly if you stabbed me right now, it would hurt less" you mumbled against your pillow with half a smile.

"Well, I brought you some stuff!" Chris exclaimed before turning towards the two big bags he had placed on the floor once he entered the room.

"Obviously I got you your meds, you'll surely need em," he placed 3 boxes of Ibuprofen on your nightstand.

"Baby, I'm not downing the whole box, these will last me forever! You got 2 the previous month," you said with widened eyes.

"And? I'd rather know you have more than enough than not" he shrugged his shoulders.

"I also got you a heating pad, I read that heat helps a lot with the crumps," he pulled out a pink heating pad that was coated with a fuzzy layer of fabric.

"Then we have your favourite Yankee candles, the evergreen and caramel ones," he playfully raised his eyebrows at you, "I got a whole ass chocolate cake because I know you love that shit, some Reese's, chocolate bars..." he trailed off.

"Oh, I got some bath bombs too! Thought we'd try em out, they smell really good" he showed you two circular bath bombs, a blue and a purple one.

"And then obviously I have your pads and tampons, the Caesar's salad you go nuts about, your favourite pasta sauce...I think that's all" he finished. Even though your jaw was on the floor, it was only one of the bags he had brought with him.

"What's one the other bag?"

"Obviously some of my shirts and hoodies, jackass" he laughed at your cluelessness. You felt tears brim in your eyes. Your sensitive side came through on your period, you could cry with anything.

"Chris..." you smiled lovingly at him with a blurry vision.

"No need to cry ma, I'll take care of you m'kay?" he chuckled once more and kissed the side of your mouth.

"I love you" you softly spoke against his lips.

"I love you more baby," he kissed you again, "now, I'm gonna go run you a warm bath and then we're gonna eat whatever you want. I can get us food, whatever you're craving, or I can cook you your pasta... how does that sound?" he asked with a caring gaze.

"In n out sounds good right now if I'm being honest" you furrowed your eyebrows at him apologetically.

"Then in n out it is" Chris kissed your nose before making his way to your bathroom.

That night he didn't let you raise your hand. You needed water? He sprinted downstairs to get it. You had to use the bathroom? He escorted you, sometimes even carried you. His presence not only made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, something that always happened when he was around, but it also eased your pain. You couldn't be more thankful for him.

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Text

The Look of Love.

Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz

Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.

Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.

"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.

He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.

"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."

You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."

"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.

You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.

"You love weddings, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"

You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.

You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.

"Hola, Mr Diaz."

"Hola, hermosa."

"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.

"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.

"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"

"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."

"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"

The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.

Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.

"They really love each other, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."

Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.

"... What?"

"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."

"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.

"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."

Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.

"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"

"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"

"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.

"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.

Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.

"You know they basically live together?"

When he's met with confused faces, he continues.

"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."

"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.

"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."

With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.

Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.

"Come on. I wanna show you something."

He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.

The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.

"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."

Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.

"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."

"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."

"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."

Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.

The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.

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userlando · 9 months

Text

fill her veins — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [3.5k] summary: your friend’d had you in all the different ways. fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. lazy, slow and deep. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, friends with benefits, porn without plot, lazy sex, unprotected (piv) a/n: to the anon that dropped this concept in my ask box, I hope you don’t mind that I took the idea and ran with it. I have so many drafts to finish but this just wouldn’t leave my mind. consider this as a thank you for all the amazing love you’ve poured me with lately, I love you guys so much!! lmk what you think of this!

Lando has an odd taste for trashy reality tv shows. He claims that he doesn’t, that he usually puts them on for background noise but he always ends up settling down on the nearest flattest surface; Eyes glued to the screen. It’s funny, it’s not something you’d expect and most of all, you don’t really mind it. Because he doesn’t care if you don’t pay any attention to it, as long as you’re either in his lap or spooning him.

He’d texted you earlier tonight and you hadn’t expected it, not really. You figured that after the long weekend in Belgium, he’d be ready to travel where the wind took him without any worry about the next weekend where he’d have to show off his best side and bring home a win for his team. Lando had talked about the Maldives and even Singapore, hinting at you coming with him but you’d been quick to shut him down, claiming that your life couldn’t be put on hold. Because it couldn’t.

But he’d gone home, spending exactly three hours with Max before the fucker abandoned him to hang out with his girlfriend and Lando was bored out of his mind when the flat got too quiet, so quiet that he could hear the neighbours flushing their toilets. Then you’d sent him a funny video of cats and Lando had responded with an ‘are you home?’ after laughing himself silly to the video.

That was three hours ago, he’d pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek when you’d opened the door for him, sniffing the air because he could clearly smell the bolognese that you’d made, giving you a look that you recognised so intimately. You’d seen the pleading look plenty of times in various situations, and now it was saying ‘can I please have whatever’s cooking in the kitchen?’ And who were you to deny him?

Lando had shovelled a plate and a half of spaghetti, moaning over how good it was and completely ignoring your rolling eyes of fond exasperation and a little shyness, and then the both of you had settled on your sofa on top of each other with Love Island playing in the background.

You were dozing, half conscious and absolutely not interested in what was going on, but Lando? Lando was enraptured, eyes shining with interest in the dark when you tilted your head up to look at him. The glow of the television cast pretty shadows on his face, the long eyelashes and the beard he’d decided to grow out on his upper lip and chin. It looked good on him. And better yet, it felt good on your sensitive skin. There had been too many times to count where he’d rub it raw and sore, between your legs so you couldn’t wear dresses and skirts in fear of your thighs rubbing together, or your face when he kissed you as deeply as he did.

You still remembered the time when you’d put on an excessive amount of lipbalm after a night of heavy petting, catching Max’s raised eyebrows across the table. He didn’t say anything, but he might as well could have with how expressive his eyes and face were. It was unnerving.

Lando sensed you shifting on his chest, peering down at you with his bushy eyebrows pulled together. It was dark, the television the only provider of light but you saw the confusion clear as day in his eyes as they flitted across your face, trying to gauge your facial expression.

“What?” He asked, hands halting where they’d been stroking up and down your back subconsciously. You immediately missed the soothing motion of them, having gotten quite used to the impromptu back massage.

“Nothin’.” You murmured, laying your head back down with your ear pressed to his chest.

The steady beat of his heart was like music to your ears, lulling you to a slow sleep that you could almost see on the horizon and Lando wasn’t making it any easier to stay awake with the way his hands were gently scratching your back with his blunt fingernails over your shirt. He knew you loved it, did it as often as he could.

You let out a pleased little hum when his hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips mapping out the bumps of your spine. Up, up, up, and then he stopped with a small noise in his throat.

It made you hide a smile into his hoodie, knowing exactly where his mind was going when his fingers travelled to either side of your back; Right where your bra strap would’ve went, if you were wearing one.

Lando clearly seemed pleased with his new discovery, heart thudding just a little harder under your ear as he shifted beneath you. You sucked in a quiet breath, looking up at him just in time for him to stare back.

“No bra, eh?” His lips pulled into a slow, playful smile that had you smiling, tongue in cheek. “Cheeky.”

“I never wear one around the house, twat.” You pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, tightening his arms around you to force you upwards on his chest, putting you face to face. “Hi.”

He blinked up at you, slowly, like sleep was on the doorstep and knocking. Lando looked tired but there was an underlying layer of lust in his eyes that you’d come to recognise. It never failed to send a thrill up your spine and it was what prompted you to close the small distance between the two of you, noses brushing against each other as he exhaled teasingly.

“Lando…” You frowned as you went to kiss him, only for him to pull away.

It didn’t escape you how whiny you sounded, but you hadn’t gotten laid in almost two weeks and he’d been sending you very suggestive photos and texts when he was away.

Never mind that you’d started it, firing off a photo with no additional text of your tits, knowing that he was most likely in a briefing with his team and there was a major chance that someone nearby would see the photo over his shoulder if he’d open it up without any warning.

But you didn’t care. It’s what made it fun, after all. Especially when he’d sent a series of exclamation and question marks, cursing you out for doing it so publicly.

“You’re so impatient, darling.” He tsked you, nipping your lower lip when you pushed forward in hopes of him kissing you.

You pouted until his face broke out into a smile, bringing a hand up to the back of your head; Fingers sliding into your hair for a grip as he finally pushed his lips against yours.

It was slow and chaste at first, a kiss to your upper lip before he sucked on the lower one, relishing in the stuttered exhale you released into his mouth. There was no denying that Lando was a good fucking kisser, ever so patient and passionate and it was only made evident when he pried your lips apart to taste your tongue. His hand spanned against your cheek, thumbing your chin to keep your mouth open as he licked into it. You could taste the faint spices of the food he’d had earlier, along with the sweetness of the bag of Squashies you kept in your pantry, only because he liked them. It was a heady mix.

You couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t erotic, that it didn’t make your toes curl and your spine tingle with all kinds of emotions when his tongue slid against yours so sensually. He truly took his time, loving on your lip and kissing you so thoroughly that you were out of breath and a little dazed by the time he pulled away. He thumbed your lower lip, his own smiling and pink, bitten raw.

Lando allowed the both of you a few seconds to catch your breaths, immediately going for another round but this time he dove straight in, kissing you deeply. It was when the both of you started to let out these breathy little moans against each other’s mouths and grinding slowly that Lando took action, sliding his other hand that had been idle on your back, down your spine and slipping into your shorts.

He felt the curve of your ass, his palm swallowing up your cheek as he grabbed it in a painfully delicious grip that had you grinding down against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your lips dropped open, moaning into his mouth when you felt his hardness press against your crotch. It relieved a little pressure off of you, but there was no denying that you were soaking and in need of more. More of Lando, more of his touch.

“Fuck, I love this arse.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth when his hand tightened on the flesh of your cheek, fingers no doubt bruising the skin. It felt amazing. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

You made a noise of protest against his cheek, where you’d been pressing your face against it, hands cupping his cheek.

“No,” you murmured against his mouth before kissing him. “No tasting, just need you inside me.”

Lando nodded gently, reaching a hand down to your shorts in a practiced motion to run his fingers gently between your folds. His eyes left yours to look at your crotch, jaw going slack at the wetness he found there and you whimpered when his wet finger touched your clit, circling it until you were squirming.

“Need you.” You murmured against his ear, pressing your face to the side of his and nudging your nose against his cheek.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to because he was already slipping a finger into you; a second one joining him soon after. Lando stretched you out, feeling your warm breath against his cheek and hearing your poorly concealed moans of pleasure as he worked you, sounding a lot like heaven to his ears. He crooked his fingers and fucked you gently, thumb notching against your swollen bud just to hear your breathing pick up.

It was a telltale sign that you were close, hands clutching at his hoodie, right over his chest and it made his head dizzy how your legs were locking up around his hips the closer you got. He turned his head to find your lips, messily slotting them over your mouth and swallowing your high pitched groans as you came around his fingers.

Your body shook, hands flexing in their tight grip of his hoodie and Lando marvelled at the sighs and sounds you were making, letting you trap his bottom lip to suck on it. That one gesture made every ounce of blood rush to his cock, so fast that he almost went dizzy with it and he hurriedly pulled his fingers out of your tight clench, sliding his fingers into his mouth for a quick taste of your juices.

You made a small sound of protest, feeling boneless and too tired to chastise him for making such a show of it. He loved making you come on his fingers, loved it even more when he could suck the slick off of his digits because you’d always squeak in embarrassment and swat at him with your hands.

It took a lot of effort to adjust yourself on top of him, reaching your weak arms down between the two of you to pull at his shorts. Lando wasn’t much of a help, watching silently as you yanked his shorts down far enough to get his cock out. It was rigid, sticking up so lewdly and flushed pink and you licked your lips; craving to get your mouth on it.

But you were too tired, and Lando was clearly way too impatient to wait any longer as he pulled your shorts and underwear to the side, grabbing himself by the base to guide himself to your centre. You bit your lip, anticipating the burning stretch but he didn’t push in, sliding his length between your lips to slick himself up instead.

You opened your mouth to tell him to get on with it but the words died on your tongue along with your last brain cell when the head of his cock nudged your clit, making you shudder at the unexpected sensitivity.

“Fucking hell,” Lando cursed in a murmur, sounding dazed and not at all there.

Your eyes flickered up to him just in time to witness as he brought his other hand to his mouth, dribbling saliva onto the length of his fingers and bringing it back down to stroke his cock. It was lewd, so disgustingly hot and you had to have him right now.

Lando must’ve felt the same because he was finally moving, notching himself against your hole and waiting for your wordless consent that contained of a quick nod and a needy sound, before he raised his hips and pushed himself into you.

You responded with a keening sound, pushing your hips down and taking way more of him in the process than you were ready for. It burned, stretched to the limit with only spit and slick to help you take him, but you both had worked with less before.

And Lando knew how to read your body, knew that your fisted hands meant for him to pause, to breathe and let you get used to his size. It never got easier, there was so much thickness to him that could simultaneously bring so much pleasure, but also pain if you weren’t too careful.

A sadistic part of you loved it though. You loved feeling him for days after a good lay, would often rile him up to the point that he’d bend you over and fuck you silly.

Your skin still tingled when you thought of the early days of your arrangement, where you’d been at his place late at night. You’d played Call of Duty and gotten him so worked up that he shoved you down on the sofa, ass up and face down, pulling a bone shattering orgasm from you with the help of his sinful mouth before he fucked you so hard that you were drooling and muffling your moans into the cushions. It was a worthless effort though, Max had heard you and he’d made it clear during breakfast the next day.

“You good?” He asked, touching your chin with his thumb and you blinked, realising that you’d drifted someplace else completely.

You nodded slowly, holding his gaze as he pulled back and thrust forward, rattling your bones and pulling a moan from your lips. Your fingers ran through the hairs on the back of his head, pulling his face close to yours as he started fucking you slowly, reaching so deeply inside of you that the sensations made your eyes flutter and roll.

Lando had a hard time keeping his eyes open and on you, watching your mouth gap open and closed in unintelligible words and sharp gasps, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed you when you started moving your hips against his, adjusting your positions so you were fully straddling him. It must’ve done something for you because you were suddenly pulling at his hair, his head going back with it and mouth going slack around a groan.

It put your mouth in level with his throat, thick and exposed, so pretty that you couldn’t help but suck bruises into the vulnerable skin.

You moved against each other, fucking slowly like you had all the time in the world, kissing and bruising each other up with the help of your hands and mouths.

Your friend’d had you in all different ways. Fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. Lazy, slow and deep. Where he could feel every tight and warm crevice of you, feel you slicking him up the wetter you got.

Lando’s breaths grew deeper, groans becoming more guttural and you knew he was close to his climax; riding him just a bit harder to help him get there.

He slid both hands around your hips, slipping into your shorts and grabbing your cheeks in bruising handfuls with a moan; Needy and whimpering against your mouth and you kissed him harder in response.

His fingers slipped between your ass cheeks, and the slight touch to your hole took you by surprise, your body suddenly seizing up as you cried out your sudden climax. It was like the breath had been punched out of you, coming so hard on his cock that Lando had to stop the movements of his hips because the tightness became too restrictive.

The both of you grabbed at each other, mouth to mouth, stealing each others breath as Lando fucked up once, twice before he released a guttural moan; shooting off into you.

You could feel him inside, feeling all too sensitive and absolutely exhausted from your orgasm to do anything but take it. Lando was giving off these small moans, gasping like he couldn’t breathe properly and it was only when he started shuddering from oversensitivity that you attempted to get off of him.

He slid out easily, cock wet as you dripped with him and it was such a filthy sight that you couldn’t help but flush warmth all over.

You knew that you’d have to get up eventually and shower, feeling disgusting and entirely too warm to stay wrapped in each other. But Lando wasn’t ready to let you go yet, and neither were you, to be honest. You let him wrap you up in his arms, nuzzling his face into your throat and exhaling tiredly.

“That was exactly what I needed.” He murmured hoarsely into your throat.

You hid a smile into his damp curls, cupping the side of his face and bringing his head up to face you. He blinked, squinting eyes and blown out pupils, and you thought that he’d never looked as good as he did now. So relaxed with no worry in the world.

It was hard to refrain from kissing him, pushing small kisses to his cheeks and one to his lips that he tiredly responded too. It was like it took way too much energy to move his lips, and it made you smile when he whined.

“Can you carry me to bed?” He asked and you reached your fingers up to pinch the tip of his nose.

“Absolutely not.” You wiggled on top of him, pulling a strangled sigh from his lips. “We need a wash first, and you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

That made him crack an eye open to stare at you in confusion.

“Work?” He frowned.

“You came in me, you’ll get it out.” You said, like it was obvious.

Lando’s eyes narrowed, “You’re the one who likes it.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

His hand came down on your ass cheek, the slap hard enough to make you jump with a yelp. You glared at him with no real malice, ignoring the spike of heat that the unexpected pain sent up your spine because now was not the time to delve deeper into your interests of pain.

“You didn’t have to.” He said, matching your defiant tone of voice now. “Your body said it all, baby.”

You faked a gag, moving to roll off of him and he let you go without any fight.

“You’re gross. Get out of my flat.”

Lando cackled, making a poor attempt at sitting up on the sofa. You watched him struggle for moment, trying not to smile in amusement at the way his hair was all messy, curls wild and unruly.

“I’ll help you out,” He said and you knew there was a catch coming, judging by the tone of his voice. “If I can go down on you.”

You grimaced, as if the thought of him licking you clean didn’t make you clench. It wasn’t really a normal occurrence, but it did happen on rare occasions. Lando was a lot filthier in bed than you’d originally thought, and discovering his kinks had been an adventure so far.

“Oh, fine.” You sighed with a flourish, like you were doing him a favour rather than the opposite. “But you have to wash my hair first.”

You had your back turned to him now, walking in the direction of your bathroom but you could almost hear Lando’s exasperated eye roll, making you a hide a smile as you pushed the bathroom door open.

“Blow me.” He muttered.

“Maybe I will.” You teased.

Lando gave you no time to turn around, crowding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso to bring you flush against him. The sharpness of his teeth on your shoulder made you squeal with a giggle, squirming in his hold but he was too strong.

“Come on then,” He pressed his face to the side of your neck and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get your ass in there, I want to get my mouth on you before you start dripping.”

You’d never moved faster than you did.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #lando norris fic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fics

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slttygeto · 7 months

Text

SOMETHING I’M MADE FOR

what was i made for? | think i forgot, how to be happy

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you owe suguru a lot. a heartfelt apology is one of them.

જ⁀➴ c.w: hurt/comfort, fem bodied! reader, very unrealistic timelines, i have never taken a 'break' while in a relationship so pls dont come for me, reader is mentioned to being depressed at one point, suguru is going through it, second chance sort of.

જ⁀➴ word count; 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: idk how to feel abt this tbh

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

There was no need for you to feel this nervous, but given the amount of times you’ve wiped your hand on the fabric of your skirt that would sound a bit ridiculous. You were nervous, and rightfully so. You stand in front of the same door that you used to have the keys to, a very familiar red wooden door with the number of the apartment written in gold sitting at the very top, you raise your hand and your knuckles collider with the wood one, two and then three times before you’re taking two steps behind out of respect and privacy for your… well, you didn’t know what to refer to Suguru in this case.

You try not to overthink it, you came here with good intentions. Over the four weeks with almost contact with the man except for the occasional text messages here and there, you’ve come to realize a couple of things. First, you needed to apologize to him. Four weeks isn’t enough for you to heal completely from the damage caused from feeling so low in a long term relationship, but it was enough time to reflect on how you behaved that night with him. Some of his words might’ve hurt you, but you later on figured that it was because he was right, as bad as it sounds.

And second, you were ready to let go of him if staying with you was draining him. You knew that Suguru would never tell you something like that—he might’ve been blunt with strangers, but the man had such a soft spot and a sweet side with his loved ones. God knows how much he loves you, and how many times he said it. But you were too busy thinking that your problems were burdening him and thus, you didn’t deserve the man.

You hear shuffling from behind the door and when it swings open with and you’re greeted with a Suguru in a lazy attire, you feel your heart get stuck in your throat. You hadn’t told him you were going to show up, but you had texted Satoru earlier the same week to make sure that he was at home. To say that Satoru wanted to kill you was an understatement, the white haired male was very protective of his best friend no matter how dearly you meant to him.

Hey, is suguru gonna be home this week?

Satoru

yeah. he hasn’t been outside in a while. why?

Your heart drops when you read that. Suguru wasn’t the type to stay holed up in his place for too long.

um I thought id give him a visit

Satoru

yeah sure

he’ll appreciate that

You could feel the ice cold stare of his best friend through those messages. Maybe it was a little childish from his part, but after hearing that Suguru was acting unusual, you figured that maybe this time you would gladly take the heat.

You hoped that the person standing in front of you wasn’t any different from the person you abruptly left four weeks ago after a horrible fight, but one quick look at the messy hair and the sleep deprivation visible on his face was enough to make your chest burn with guilt. You’re unsure of what to say for a good few seconds, eyes darting behind him only to find the vacuum in the middle of the middle room and groceries on the counter. It seemed like he was trying to get life back together, did you really decide to pop at the wrong moment?

“Do you need something?” the way he breaks the silence is almost bone chilling and you find yourself smiling nervously at him before holding up bags of food to show him that you got him his favorite. But he doesn’t budge, emotionless eyes darting all over your face in what you assumed to be an attempt at making you feel small. And boy, it was working.

You feel stupid and drop the bags of food in front of him before taking a few steps back.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Suguru knows what you want to talk about.

“About u-“

“About us?” He cuts you off before you can even finish and raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to stop thinking about me for a while?” he continues. “It’s only been a month.”

“A month is more than enough,” you try to reason. “We were together for three years, of course-“

“Should’ve told yourself that when you left me.” Suguru retorts venomously and you start getting the clear picture. While being away from him made you realize how toxic you were behaving towards him, you being out of his life brought out his worst side. You knew this Suguru—he was spiteful, filled with hatred and didn’t hesitate to cut anyone with his words.

“Suguru,” you try again. “Let me come in.” You see him bite back another snarky response and he complies, letting you walk inside.

Once the bags of food are inside and you see him close the door, you hesitate on where to sit. The kitchen seemed to bring back bad memories, so you choose the couch that you both picked when you first moved in here and you watch as he sits on the other side, a little grunt leaving his lips as he leans back and stares at you.

“Seems like you’ve been doing well,” he points out. “I forgot what happy you looked like.”

You squirm a little under his intense gaze, the way his eyes travel from your bare legs up to your upper half then your face. You were used to Suguru’s loving stare, he always looked at you like you meant the entire world to him—but right now? You felt like he could eat you up and spit you out with his eyes.

“I’ve been, um…” You pause and place one leg on top of the other. “Reflecting on how I behaved in our relationship.” You admit and look around the place. He still managed to keep it neat.

“It was wrong of me to explode on you that night, and to keep so many things from you—it doesn’t undo the fact that I said what I said, but I just want to apologize.” Suguru’s eyes seem to soften for a split second when you shift again in your seat.

“For what?” he asks flatly but the way his body relaxes on the couch indicates that he means no harm. “For possibly being depressed when you were with me?”

“No,” you avoid looking at him. “It wasn’t because I was with you it’s because-“

“That’s not what you said that night,” he cuts you off. “I am so perfect and my life is so perfect that being with someone like me made you feel too guilty to tell me about your problems.” He continues before leaning forward, placing both of his elbows on his knees. “My face…apparently, that was also a reason for you not to tell me about your problems.”

“I was wrong,” you start growing a little nervous. “You weren’t the problem, and I’m here to tell you that I am deeply sorry for what happened that night, even if it was needed.”

Suguru is quiet for a few moments, he is in deep thought before he decides to speak up again.

“You know, a month isn’t enough to fall out of love with a person you pictured your future with,” he starts. “But it sure is enough time for you to resent them a little. You’re hurt and confused, everything was going well, or so you thought,”

“Suguru…”

“I thought that maybe I didn’t want to think about you too, that I was doing so much better without you but-“ the dry chuckle makes your heart squeeze. “As you can see, it’s clearly not the case.”

“We don’t have to get back together right now,” your voice is soft and the way you’re trying to make yourself look small on his couch tugs at Suguru’s heart strings.

“I don’t think it’s that easy either,” he admits. “After all, I still do resent you a little.” His honesty is both relieving and hurtful. A part of you knows that it’s a long and difficult process, but if there was any person actually worth fighting for in your life, it was Suguru. “But…” you raise your head when you hear him speak up.

“I think we could try.”

And through tearful eyes and shared hopeful smiles, you are finally able to breathe again.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto x y/n #getou suguru x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #geto angst #geto fluff

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facefullofsadness · 2 months

Text

stripper!ningning in a private room

dom!ning x sub!reader

smut, 1.8k wc

I had a dream the other night that ning literally just flipped up her crop top and flashed the entire audience, nips out and everything (she didn't even have a bra under). as if it was a part of the show too? had the cameraman zooming in and her fucking hard nipples were on the big screen with the instrumental to a solo song of hers playing in the back. the wildest part was when she started PLAYING WITH THEM? she literally teased around the bud and pinched them, flicking them between her fingertips and throwing her head back. woke up SWEATING! it led me to THINKINGGGG and came up with stripper!ning.

your friends drag you to a strip club one night to distress since it had been a long busy week full of work and you don't really leave the house, so they urge you to go out, just this once! obliging because you might as well, I mean why tf not, wouldn't hurt to try right?

little did you know, your plan to just stand in the corner by the bar and drink by yourself was far from what your friends had already pre-meditated for you. having settled yourself at the bar with a drink in hand already, you feel the hot touch of a person's hand slipping from your shoulder to your lower back, making you turn your attention towards the source.

your eyes widen at the stunning woman in front of you, a gorgeous dark-haired cat-eyed lady in a long black coat covering her body stood next to you, a sly smirk on her lips. you gulp down the alcohol in your throat when she opens her mouth to speak.

"my, you really are so much more pretty up close..." she says, almost as if her thoughts slipped from her tongue, leaning in to observe your face further, touch lingering on your body.

you dart your eyes anywhere else to escape her intense gaze and she clears her throat before speaking again, "sorry, my manners slipped me. I'm ningning, would you like to come with me?"

you stare at the hand ningning held out for you, the internal dilemma going crazy in your head. you see your friends out the corner of your eye, cheering you on silently and urging you to say yes. looking up at the woman next to you, her expression is expectant and she bats her eyelashes, eyes full of wonder and allure.

you don't say anything and just take her hand, the beautiful woman smiling and dragging you past the poles of dancing women, her luscious dark hair flowing behind her, into a private and dimly lit room. she sits you down on the velvet sofa and runs her fingers through her hair, sighing.

you gather the courage to ask, "did my friends set this up?"

her teeth show slightly in the smile she gives you, giggling softly, "yes sweetie they did. but I didn't go so easy, I had to see how pretty you were up close if I really wanted to go through with it."

she sways her way up to you from across the room, hands laying on your shoulders and rubbing her thumbs under your jacket against your skin, "luckily for you, and especially for me, you're fucking hot."

she leans into your ear, lips and breath hot on your skin, "I'm supposed to give you a show, but I think I want so much more than just that, don't you?"

her words make you shiver, a chill trailing down your spine. she pulls away to push your shoulders back against the sofa, your back hitting the soft backrest, as ningning straddles your lap. you can feel her skin on yours under her long coat against your thighs, the material of her clothes hiking up your skirt.

she pulls the knot on her waist that's holding her coat together, taking it off and revealing her black lingerie set, sheer and honestly not doing much to leave thoughts to the imagination. she leans in over you and hovers your lips with hers, feeling her lips curl upright into a smile.

"don't be shy, I don't bite... too hard."

she grabs one of your hands and puts it on her exposed stomach, guiding it to feel her body up and down, the lace and skin on your fingertips. she puts your hand on her chest, making you trail your fingers on her hard nipple through the lace. you obey, using your thumb to roll the bud against her boob, feeling it harden in your hold.

her breath increases in volume, and you feel her panting against your lips. you continue further, pinching her nipple in your fingers, eliciting a deep moan from her throat. you bring your other hand up and repeat the same motions to her other boob, making ningning throw her head back, her long sweaty exposed neck on display. the sight made your cheeks start to turn red and you started to feel your body heat up.

"learning quickly, aren't you there? god you're so pretty under me, can't wait to feel more of you."

and she sure did feel more of you.

you laid back against the sofa, ningning kneeling with her pussy in your mouth, one hand in your hair, twirling her fingers with your strands and pulling you in, tongue spelling your name across her sweet tasting cunt, her other hand pinching at her nipples, moans filling the room. she had secured your wrists to poles on either side of you, same as your ankles, your body completely sprawled out and barely clothed, ready to take anything she so wanted to do to you. and at this moment, she wanted to see how much of a good girl you'd really be for her.

chanting pet names and words of praise for how well you ate her out, her sweet and sultry raspy voice releasing pleasurable groans. her hips grinding rhythmically against your mouth, the hold on your head tightening and pulling you impossibly closer, making it difficult to breathe. you look up at her figure, the sight making your hole clench and clit throb with how fucking sexy the girl on top of you looked, mouth hanging open, moans slipping from her lips, eyes rolled back, head swinging side to side, a thin sheet of sweat forming all over her milky skin, her fingers pinching at the nipples poking through her lingerie. you could cum from just watching her get off on you.

"such a fucking good girl, baby. wanna make mommy cum? go on, drink it all and clean me up."

her pace became unfathomably swift, chasing her orgasm on your hard working tongue. she came, creaming all over your mouth, well mostly, some of it spreading to your face. ningning yelled out profanities as you pushed her over the edge, her eyes trained on you and how well you sucked her dry (she wanted to cum again just by how good you looked). her honey-like voice filled your ears when you heard her giggle, opening your eyes to look up at her, an amused and prideful look on her face as she pet your head and threaded her fingers through your hair. once you licked her clean, she hovered her body over yours and traced her thumb over your cum-stained lips, sucking on her finger when she collected all the spit and liquid.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, your body is going to be completely incapacitated and you'll never want anyone else to fuck you other than me. do you want that? does my good and precious baby girl want mommy to break her? fuck her brains out until she can't think anymore?"

you moan at her words and pull at your restraints at the mere thought of her making you cum.

"go on sweetie, beg me. beg mommy to fuck you dumb."

oh your friends were so gonna make fun of you for this later.

"please mommy, I've been such a good girl for you, please fuck me stupid, fuck me until I can't take it anymore. even if I can't take it anymore! fuck me until I cry, until I'm sobbing, until I'm screaming for you to stop!"

so of course, she does, how could she say no to such a pretty girl begging for her? eating you out until you're squirting on her tongue and making a mess of her beautiful face, staining her pretty lingerie. fingering your pussy until her thrusts burn, your walls sore, clenching over her skillful digits, clit overstimulated to hell. fucking you with a strap until you're screaming bloody murder, throat aching in pain from the yells and also her fingers deepthroating and gagging you, clit rubbing against ningning's, making both of you tear up with incomprehensible pleasure, your body jerking with every pinch of her fingers on your nipples or suck and lick of her tongue on them, squirting so hard every time on her cum-shooting strap, filling you up with her cream. oh how I want ning yizhuo to fuck me like this so bad.

she finally stops after what feels like hours of constant mind-numbing sex, your hole leaking cum. you hear her mumble something like "fuck it's already been 2 hours? I need to get you out of here." how considerate. her taking such good care of you, massaging your wrists and ankles from the red marks that had formed from the cuffs she restrained you with, kissing over all the scratches and redness she induced on your body, cleaning all the cum and tears across your face and skin, getting you water and making sure you were okay.

"need anything else angel? was I too intense for you?" she'd softly ask, voice so sweet and gentle, caressing your cheek and playing with your hair, massaging your head too while you drank water.

"mm-mm," you'd hum, shaking your head no ever so slightly, your entire body sore. hell, you literally could only hum a response because your throat was spent.

she leaned in close to your face, her lips right up against yours, just barely touching, "it's against policy to do anything I did today, so I'll break just one more rule."

ningning kisses you. not intensely, not rough, just her soft and plump cum and cherry flavored lips moving slowly but passionately against yours, an incredibly drastic contrast from just moments before. and yet, this was the most breathless you were the entire night. pulling away after a while and gasping for air like you forgot how to breathe entirely, staring down at her lips shining with saliva, a grin settling calmly on her face.

she lifts your gaze with her finger under your chin and pecks you again before she interlaces her free hand with one of yours, "don't be a stranger okay? what's your name?"

suddenly gaining confidence, you kiss her again, taking her bottom lip between your teeth and swiping your tongue against it, a whine leaving her throat. you pull away and smirk, replying with a hoarse but brave voice, "take me out on a date first ningning, then maybe I'll reward you."

her chuckle resonates and she stands, pulling you up with her, dragging you towards the locked door (holding you up because your legs are absolute jelly), "I'll take you up on that challenge, pretty girl."

what a fucking night.

a/n - I WANT TO FUCK NING YIZHUO SO BAD OH MY GOD YALL DONT UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY I NEED HER

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yeonzzzn · 2 months

Note

need a fic about staff!reader and idol!sunghoon who have to fool around in secret (but it’s not really secret bc hoon cannot control himself).. until its the newest headline on the gossip pages

anon, I love this fr fr!! your brain is *chef kiss* this one is for you!

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 1.7k

Sunghoon tried to not make it so obvious. Tried to keep it a secret and his feelings nonexistent when the other members or staff were around. To hide any signs he could possibly be in a relationship or even talking to someone.

Except, Sunghoon is way too obvious. He can’t keep secrets and shows his feelings all too well. He can’t help but get possessive or jealous making it again, obvious that he’s in a relationship.

It didn’t start that way though.

From the moment you were hired to be one of Enhypen’s new stylists, Sunghoon took a liking to you, trying to find any way possible to get his dick inside you.

Except he was shy at first, keeping his dirty thoughts to himself and his hand late at night in his bedroom.

It took months before Sunghoon started to get confident in flirting with you, testing the water at first to see how you’d react, and when you reacted the way he hoped…oh you were done for.

You caught up to Sunghoon’s antics really fast. Noticing his eyes on you. Noticing how he was always the first in the dressing room and the last to leave. Always putting himself in front of you to style him so you didn’t get the chance to even style one of the other boys.

Sunghoon was so obvious, but you found it cute, enduring, and kinda hot.

Sunghoon wanted to get to know you, sure. But the attraction he felt and the thoughts of getting his dick wet kind of outweighed that. But you worked with him, there was plenty of time to get to know you.

It wasn’t until a wardrobe malfunction happened that it really kicked things off between you and Sunghoon.

His shirt ripped in the middle of taking off some of his equipment in between sets to readjust. Having staff members send him running to you to fix it.

You looked at the whole torn at the back of his shirt, “The whole is too big, won’t be able to sew it back together. It’d be too obvious.” So it was settled on a shirt change. You walked to the clothing rack, picking an iced blue color shirt that matched his black jeans perfectly, “This one should do, here go ahead and—“

You weren’t expecting to see Sunghoon in the process of lifting the shirt off his body and dropping it to the floor. Exposing his toned body. Your eyes scanned his abs, his chest, his biceps…Bless whoever opened the first gym and started the chain reaction of opening them everywhere. Truly a blessing.

Sunghoon smirked, loving to see the blush on your cheeks, getting you right where he wanted you.

“Like what you see, pretty?”

You made eye contact with him, trying every way possible to keep your breathing even.

“Uh, h-here’s the new shirt,” you said, quickly placing the shirt in his hands and turning to walk out of the dressing room, except obviously, that didn’t happen.

Sunghoon grabbed your arm and pulled you back, trapping you between him and the vanity.

“Don’t leave me just yet, aren’t you supposed to make sure the shirt fits?” he rolled his hips against you, feeling his hardening cock against your stomach, “I’m sure it’ll fit perfectly though.”

You knew Sunghoon knew what he was doing, trying to make a play on words for how well his dick would fit inside you. Granted, it was working, regardless of how flustered you felt at that moment.

“Hoon, you have ten minutes before going back on stage,” you whispered, fingers gripping the sanity in hopes of keeping yourself from shaking.

“Then we have ten minutes to get busy, now don’t we?” He leaned his face closer to yours, “YN, Let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, letting him drop his hands to your legs and lift you on top of the vanity, rolling your skirt up your thighs and spreading your legs.

Sunghoon didn’t think this would be the way he finally fucked you, but he was here for it nonetheless.

He finally got to feel your lips on his, finally, had you wrapped around him perfectly as he pounded into you at a fast pace since his time was limited. The vanity rocked against the wall, being completely sure he was creating scuff marks on the white paint from the way he was fucking you against it. His hands squeezed your breasts. Tongue shoved down your throat. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer to you as you cum, making a mess on his cock. He couldn’t get enough of you, spilling his seed inside your pretty cunt and giving himself two minutes left to spare before going back on stage.

Sunghoon took any chance he could to fool around with you. Pulling you into any tight corner he could. Bending you over chairs, vanities, and the couches in the break room back at the HYBE building. Fucking you against walls at the stadiums they would perform at. Pressing your naked body against the mirrors in the practice rooms, leaving handprints behind once you two were finished.

It wasn’t too long before he started developing feelings for you, wanting more than just sex with you.

Sunghoon was already obvious as it was to the other members, they weren’t stupid. They knew he would sneak you over to their dorms late at night and he would sneak out of the dorms to your apartment.

But once Sunghoon caught feelings, phew it was way worse.

It became harder to not give you attention. To kiss you, touch you, spoil you. To act like there was nothing between the two of you when everyone was around.

Becoming possessive when another male staff member would talk to you. Be jealous if one of the other members needed a wardrobe change and you were the one to take care of them.

It became way too obvious to the point that Sunghoon finally broke down to the members about his feelings for you, their response being “DUH! We knew that already!” it made him feel relieved sure, but because of his idol status, he had no choice but keep it secret anyways.

Which only made it harder once the two of you finally became official. The members and staff all knew, but the fans and the rest of the world didn’t. Sunghoon wanted to show you off but knew he couldn’t for your safety.

It was comeback season for Enhypen. The boys were booked left and right for interviews, TV shows, and radio shows. The boys were busy and on a time crunch, but that didn’t stop Sunghoon from pulling you into the supply closet filled with the radio show equipment.

“Hoonie,” you whispered, “Someone will notice we’re missing!”

Sunghoon wasted no time pinning you against the shelves, his hands fiddling with the button on his pants, “Jake will vouch for us. Need you so bad baby.”

You could tell your boyfriend was nervous, this was a major radio show. And what better way than to relieve his nerves by fucking you?

You lifted your skirt and slid your panties to the side, giving Sunghoon full permission.

He licked two of his fingers, then slid them between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against your lips, “always taking good care of me.”

Sunghoon knew you didn’t have much time to waste, knowing you were ready to take him once your juices started leaking down his hand.

He replaced his fingers with his cock, slowly sliding into you. Moaning out your name once he bottomed out.

He wrapped one of your legs around his waist, giving him even more access to your cunt, and started pounding into you.

Sunghoon gripped one of the metal shelves, using it to his advantage to push further into you, shaking the entire thing.

The two of you moan against each other's mouths. Your fingers tangling in his hair.

It didn’t take you long to cum. The fast pace Sunghoon was fucking you at with the help of his grip on the shelf along with him hitting your g-spot, it had you spilling over the edge.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Sunghoon growled, “Love when you cum on my cock.”

Sunghoon glanced up at his watch, seeing he only had minutes left, “I’m gonna go faster baby, okay? Wanna cum in your sweet pussy before I have to go.”

You nodded, holding onto him tighter, settling your face in his neck.

Sunghoon pistoned into you, fucking into you in a primal state. You attached your lips to his neck, teeth biting down on the skin to keep your moans from reaching outside the door.

“hmmm, fuck, I’m cumming baby, oh fuck.”

Right when Sunghoon released his load, the door to the supply closet swung open, and one of the radio show hosts' staff members stood there staring at you two, watching as Sunghoon slowly continued to push his cock into you, chasing what little high he had left.

“I’ll come back later,” the staff member said, quickly shutting the door.

It wasn’t news to anyone when all the famous KPOP articles on Twitter were talking about your sexual act in the supply closet.

Sunghoon sat in the makeup chair, reading the articles on his phone while laughing his ass off.

“They can’t even get the full story right,” Sunghoon laughed even harder.

Your face turned red as you organized the boy's outfits for the comeback show tonight.

Heeseung was also reading about the articles but from the tweets their fans were making, “Some of these posts claim they already knew you were fucking someone and that these articles just confirm it.”

“Can’t we sue that radio company for even opening their mouths?!” Jake asked, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, “They went against Sunghoon’s privacy.”

Sunghoon just shrugged, “Not like I care anyway. Not my fault the guy decided to be a dick.”

Jay leaned over Heeseung’s shoulder, reading the comments, “Some of these say you kept going even after getting caught.”

Sunghoon just smiled, not saying a word.

“Oh, you’re sick,” Jungwon said, giving him a side-eye.

Sunghoon shrugged his leader's glare off and looked over in your direction, falling more in love with you than he was before, “At least I don’t have to hide anymore.”

“That’s the thing,” Niki rolled his eyes, “You were obvious from the beginning!”

“Exactly,” Sunoo said, “This only just made it easier for you two.”

Sunghoon didn’t care that his relationship with you got exposed, because now he didn’t have to try to hide. Even though he sucked at hiding anyways.

#myiceprince #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing #yeonzzzn asks #anon

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

Text

No Need To Ask

Chapter Fourteen - His Pretty, Little Wife

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

The next chapter is going to be the midway point, basically. We've still got so much more plot to come and I really don't know how long this story is going to be, it's already 25.5K long all together

1.8K words

Series Masterlist

Marie. The cook that Carlos fucked was called Marie.

It was easy for Y/N to find her; she didn’t think she would ever forget that face. When she walked down into the kitchens, Marie’s face went pale. She let out an alarmed squeak and went to hide behind another one of the cooks.

From the way Y/N was dressed, she didn’t blame Marie for hiding away. She was meant to be powerful and imposing, mirroring the aura her husband gave off. The long, black dress with the slit up the side of the skirt, and heeled boots. It was gorgeous, making Y/N look ever the part of the powerful mafia wife her mother once was.

“Relax, Marie,” Y/N said as she leaned against the worktop, staring at her.

The employee she was hiding behind cleared his throat and stepped out of the way, leaving Marie at Y/N’s mercy.

She gulped as she looked at the lady of the house. “Please, mi señora, no quise hacer daño,” she cried. She fell to her knees, clasping her hands together, tears springing to her eyes.

Y/N sucked in a breath. Her Spanish lessons had been going well enough that she could pick up a couple of words and peace together the sentence. Please, my lady, Marie had said, I meant no harm. She took a moment to formulate a response.

It may have made her appear weak, but Y/N didn’t care. “Marie, esta bien,” She said, unfolding her arms. (Marie, it is okay). “Tengo una propuesta para ti.” But this was where she stopped being able to speak to Marie in her native tongue.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Your sleeping with my husband is not something I blame you for, okay? If it had been me sleeping with another man, my husband would have had him killed.” Marie let out a cry. “But I don’t want to have you killed. I will not have you killed. What I want to do is to set you up, with enough money that you won’t need to work,” she said.

“Mi señora,” said Marie as she fell to her knees, gasping sobs leaving her lips.

“I’ll give you the money, enough to set you up for life, as long as you leave wordlessly and tell nobody where you’re going.”

Gulping, Marie nodded her head. She’d do as her lady asked, from fear she’d lose her life.

Carlos’s money was now Y/N’s money, too. She could do what she wanted with it, and what she wanted to do was set Marie up somewhere nice.

She took the money and found Marie somewhere to live. It was on the very edge of the Sainz territory, somewhere they’d never think to look. She gave Marie the money and helped her to escape in the dead of night.

Marie would never admit it, but she was grateful to señora Sainz, for helping her get away from this life of crime. It was no little girls dream to serve the biggest crime family in Spain, but, once you got in, there was no way out. Y/N was offering her a helping hand, and Marie jumped to take it.

Y/N made her way to Carlos’s office. She pushed past the men guarding the door, who no longer bothered to stop her, and took her seat at Carlos’s desk. In his chair, with his feet up on the top of the desk.

It was a risk, sitting in his seat, but it was a risk Y/N was willing to take. There was no telling how he would react when he came back in from the garden, to see her sitting in his seat.

But Y/N didn’t have to wait for very long. Carlos came back in from the garden, not paying much attention as he strode across his office.

But then he spied her, sitting at his desk. A smirk crossed his face. “Hello, my pretty, little wife,” he said, sitting in one of the seats on the other side of the desk. He leaned back as he stared at her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Have you seen Marie recently?” Asked Y/N as she looked at him over the top of her boots.

Carlos let the smile drop from his face. “No, Y/N, I haven’t,” he answered.

“I wonder why that could be.”

It took Carlos a moment to realise what she meant. They’d played that game of chess nearly a week ago, the dots were hard to connect. But, once he got it, Carlos let that same smirk cross his face once ago. “Oh Dios mío,” he said with a shake of his head. “My pretty little wife had somebody killed. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Carlos liked it. For some unexplainable reason, Carlos liked it. He liked the fact that she had somebody killed. This wasn’t what Y/N expected. She didn’t really know what to do now. But she didn’t shift, didn’t move. She kept her gaze on Carlos, feet on the table. “You said you’d kill any man I slept with, so I thought I’d return the favour.”

“Did you know Marie had a family?” Carlos asked as he leaned back. “Her husband died, bless her, but she had two little boys. Mateo and Diego. I wonder what they will do without their mother. Well, I wonder how long they’ll last without her.”

As he said it, Carlos watched for Y/N’s reaction, and Y/N knew that. But it was hard to know how to react. Marie had already told her about Diego and Mateo, and Y/N had given her enough for the whole family to get away. But Carlos didn’t know that. He was expecting her to be distraught.

But that was what the old Y/N would have done, what the weak Y/N would have done.

She found the balance, picking at her nails as she said, “I didn’t know that,” she mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze.

Carlos smirked as he stood from his seat and straightened out his suit jacket. “No matter, mi amor, it is no concern of ours.” He pulled Y/N’s chair back, making her legs fall from the desk. Carlos kissed the top of her head and stood her up from the chair, taking her place. “You can stay with me, querida, sit on my lap while I have meetings,” he said, wearing a devilish grin.

Y/N quickly shook her head and rushed out of the office. What Carlos had just offered, all because he thought she had somebody killed, was that a step in the right direction? Was that evidence that Carlos was going to start respecting her? Only time would tell.

***

This was one of those rare instances where Carlos’s family didn’t join them for dinner. Family dinners was something Sainz was very passionate about, and he’d insisted they’d all meet at Carlos’s house while Y/N was settling in. But this was the last week where Carlos would host the dinner and soon they’d be returning to dinners at Sainz’s.

But tonight, there was no family dinner. Carlos still insisted he and Y/N ate together, though.

After her Spanish lesson, one of Carlos’s men came to get her. They’d begun to speak to her in Spanish, and Y/N had to try her best to understand them. If she couldn’t understand them, they’d try again in English, something she was grateful for.

Y/N stood from the table. “Gracias señora,” she said to her Spanish tutor and walked out of the library.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked out to the patio. She stood in front of the pool for just a second, looking at the reflection of the clouds in the sky. Every morning Carlos went for his daily swim, and Y/N would have been lying if she said she didn’t watch him.

She looked towards the table, where the kitchen staff were laying the food out on the table. It was a lot for two people, far too much. There was no sign of Maria as they laid the table.

No sign of her husband either.

But then Y/N looked towards the other side of the garden, towards the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but Carlos was sat there, cigarette between his lips.

She strode towards him, walking across the patio, towards her husband. He looked up at his, dark eyes following her as she approached. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she said as she came to stand in front of him.

Carlos released the smoke from his lungs and looked up at his wife. He wrapped his arm around her place, pulling her close. “Does my pretty little wife not like it when I smoke?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. His face was level with her stomach, so close to…

Y/N shook her thoughts away. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, ever step calculating. “Oh no, Carlos,” she said, slowly getting closer to him. “I couldn’t care less,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Standing up straight she walked away from him, hips swaying from side to side as she walked around the pool, making her way to the table.

She looked towards the golf course. Since she’d married Carlos, she hadn’t seen the golf course be used once. It was a favourite pastime of her brothers, back when he was allowed to have pastimes. If they were a normal couple, if they had married for love, Y/N was sure she would have gotten him to teach her some golf while she taught him how to play the perfect game of chess. But, instead, Y/N was left longing for that life, for the husband who would teach her golf and swim with her in the pool, who would stop smoking because she asked and hold her close as they sat around the fire pit.

Her eyes moved towards Carlos, watching as he finished the cigarette. She didn’t know when he had started calling her his pretty, little wife. But she wasn’t complaining. It made her knees weak, hearing those words leave his pretty lips.

Y/N watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and walked around the pool, sitting himself at the table opposite her. He wore that same amused smile as he began putting things on Y/N’s plate. Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted him so bad.

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

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WARDROBE MALFUNCTION

A/N: i couldn't just move on those pics

WORD COUNT: 659

SUMMARY: You're dealing with a bit of a wardrobe malfunction upon arriving to a wedding. At first your boyfriend is no help, but then he saves the day as always.

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“Harry! This is not funny!” you groan in frustration, frantically trying to fix your dress with not much luck while your boyfriend seems to be pretty entertained by your bad luck.

“It kind of is,” he chuckles, watching your struggle with a smug grin that’s mostly for your loosely clothed chest area.

You parked down by the wedding’s venue just about ten minutes ago and you leaned forward to grab your purse from the glove compartment when your dress’ seam broke along your side. Well, it burst open, to be precise. You knew the dress was too tight, but it was so pretty, you didn’t want to change into something else and now you’re fucked.

With the dress rolled down around your hips you’ve been trying to figure out how to fix with whatever you have in your purse and in Harry’s car, but aside from one single safety pin, you found nothing that could help and that wouldn’t be enough to hold the fabric together around you for the whole time.

“Would you stop eyeing my boobs and help me?” you snap at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead.

“Okay, first, I thought being your boyfriend meant I can stare at your boobs whenever I want to,” he starts, joking. “And second, I don’t have a sewing kit hidden in my pants, so there’s not much I can do for you, my love.”

You groan in frustration as you let go of the dress and lean back, tears threatening to bubble from your eyes. Now Harry can tell you’re past the jokes so he moves closer and inspects the rip, but he doesn’t get farther than you did.

“I’m not going in there,” you whisper, eyes closed, lips trembling.

“Hey, no need to cry and you will not spend the wedding hidden in the car. Let me think for a second.”

Reaching over he cups your face and gently rubs your cheek with his thumb while you’re trying to regulate your breathing and stop yourself from crying. You’re starting to get used to the thought that you will, in fact, spend this wedding in the car in your ruined dress, but then you hear Harry moving around in his seat and when you open your eyes you see him shrugging his jacket off.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, just throws the jacket to the backseat and then starts unbuttoning the soft yellow colored shirt he is wearing underneath, revealing the white tank top he put on under the shirt.

“Harry?” you ask as he takes the shirt off too and then turns to you.

“Here, put this on. Roll the dress down into a skirt.”

He pulls you forward from the back of the seat so he can drape the shirt around you and help you into it.

“But what will you wear?” you ask, finally moving, slipping your arms into the shirt.

“This and the jacket,” he shrugs, nodding down at his top.

It takes some time to assemble the outfit, you tie a knot on the shirt at your waist, low enough to cover the ruined part of your dress, only showing the skirt of it. Harry helps you roll the sleeves up and fix the buttons before he leans back to look at you.

“There, you look wonderful, baby,” he smiles at you before reaching to the back for his jacket.

“As much as I hate you for laughing at me earlier, I really do love you now,” you sigh with pouty lips as you reach over to him to pull him closer for a kiss.

“Am I forgiven for laughing?” he smirks, putting his jacket back on.

“You’ll have to run some extra miles for that later at home, but we’re alright for now.”

Harry laughs as he gets out of the car, jogging over to your side to help you out before the two of you finally head inside.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: grinding on Eddie until he cums in his pants, there’s no real plot here tbh

Warnings: smut, dry humping, sub Eddie, minors DNI

A/N: based on this ask from my darling 💀🦄 anon! they sent me this ask and I just had to write to something, I literally churned this out in like half an hour once I got going with it so thank you sm for the inspo!! I hope you all like it <3

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Fuck” Eddie groans into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting you… all… fucking… day” he whispers between kissing you.

You smirk into the kiss as the two of haphazardly make your way towards Eddie’s bedroom, desperately trying to keep your lips together as you stumble through the trailer.

The two of you giggle lightly as you crash through his door, Eddie quickly slamming it shut behind you. He all but throws you onto the mattress and jumps straight on top of you, wasting no time in pressing his lips back against yours. His hips slot between yours and he starts to grind into you. You could feel how hard he was even through his jeans as he rubs his crotch between your legs. He groans and grunts into the kiss, his lips moving just as fervently as his hips. He really had been desperate for you all day, that was plain to see.

Eddie slides his hands down your sides, reaching under your skirt. But before he has the opportunity to do anything else you flip the two of you over, pushing Eddie down on his back. He looks up at you with a mixture of awe and confusion as you sit up, your hips settling over his. He moves to sit up himself, to bring his face back to yours, but you simply push him back down with a light tut.

He smirks up at you, thinking he knew where this was going.

“Oh you wanna ride me do ya?” He asks cockily. “Well, be my guest babygirl” he hums.

Eddie leans back against he mattress, relaxing as he thought you were about to take care of him. He starts to undo his belt buckle, but hesitates for a moment when he sees your face. You tilt your head at him, a sinister smirk of your own painting your face.

“Hmm not quite” you taunt as you grab his hands, stilling his movements.

He looks at you with confusion as you pull his hands away, placing them on your thighs that rested on either side of his hips.

You keep your eyes on his and slowly start to buck your hips back and forth, pushing down as you did so, grinding hard against the tent in Eddie’s pants.

“Oh fuck” he hisses, his hands squeezing your thighs. “W- what are you doing?” He asks, his voice strained.

You don’t answer him save for a small giggle, you just keep humping him, your body rocking against his. You rest one hand on his stomach, using it for balance and momentum as you increase your speed.

“Shit, shit” Eddie groans, one of his hands moving to run through his hair.

You revel in the tremble you can see in his fingers, you can feel him shaking slightly underneath you. It just turns you on even more, spurring on your movements. You knew he’d been horny for you all day, he’d told you as much. And you knew because of that he wasn’t going to last long. But you were having too much fun to care. Watching him like this, a complete puddle under your touch, was almost just as good, if not better, than letting him help get you off as well.

“Fuck baby stop” he begs, his hands running up your thighs to grab at your hips desperately.

“Uh uh” you tut, grabbing his hands again and pulling them off you. “No touching, Munson. You keep your hands where I left them” you command huskily, returning his grip to just above your knees.

“Baby please” he groans, his eyes screwing shut, his face contorting.

If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was in pain.

“Stop, stop. Please stop” he pants. “If you don’t stop I- I’m… fuck… uh… I’m gonna cum in my fucking pants” he whines between his sinful moans.

You hum in satisfaction; “maybe that’s exactly what I want, babyboy.”

“Oh fuck” he practically cries, throwing his head back once again.

You giggle again and increase your speed even more, humping him with everything you had. You even let yourself moan, relishing the feeling of his hard clothed cock grinding against your pussy. Your fingers dig into his stomach where your hand was splayed there, supporting yourself as you continue to buck against him. One of his hands move to hold that hand of yours, his fingers still trembling as he held onto you.

“Seriously, I’m not… not gonna last” he rambles breathlessly.

At that you lean forwards, keeping up your grinding motion as you bring your face dangerously close to his.

“Good” you whisper against his lips before quickly sitting back up and grinding harder into him.

“Shit shit shit” he mumbles incoherently. “Oh fuck, fuck… fuck…oh…” his voice pitches in tone and his fingers dig into you even harder.

With a final loud grunt and pathetic whimper you feel his body go rigid beneath you as he reaches his climax. A string of incoherent and barely audible profanities fly from his mouth as the pleasure courses through his body. You moan in satisfaction when you feel the warmth beneath your pussy, the wetness of his cum as it seeps through his jeans. His chest rises and falls heavily, his fingers squeezing yours so tight it hurt. He practically shudders as you keep humping him, milking out his orgasm, slowing down just enough to keep him the place of pleasure without overstimulating him too much.

��Fuck!” Eddie swears loudly once he starts to come down.

He sits up on his elbows and looks at you with wide eyes, his face flushed and sweaty. You just chuckle to yourself, so unbelievably pleased with yourself that you’d just managed to get this boy to cum in his pants just by grinding on him. Not to mention how wet it had made you, your pussy was aching and desperate for your own release. He just looked so fucking good like this, putty in your hands, breathing raggedly, his hair a mess, his face clammy, his fingers still trembling. All of this, looking so incredibly fucked out, and you hadn’t even actually fucked him.

Your reverie is broken and you squeak in surprise when Eddie suddenly flips you over, pinning your body down into the mattress. You barely have time to acknowledge the change of positions when you feel his hand dive straight between your legs. His pushes his fingers through your panties, the thin fabric brushing against your clit as he quickly starts to rub small circles. Your hips involuntarily buck up into his touch, craving the same release you’d just provided for him.

“Eddie wh-“ you moan but he cuts you off with sinister smirk of his own.

“Shhh, I’m simply returning the favour. Now it’s your turn to cum in your pants.”