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sinning-23 · 19 days

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Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

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You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s tone little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that your make the hood move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

#x reader #reader is black #sukuna x reader #unkuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk au #jjk headcanons #uncle sukuna #jjk x reader

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astonmartinii · 9 months

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into the arms of another part three | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

part one part two masterlist tips

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 707,890 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: working up a storm and flirting up a frenzy

view all comments

user3: SHE'S BACK

user4: that month she was gone was dragging

user5: i almost forget she has a job lol there's always so much drama i forgot girly was getting the bag

danielricciardo: oh what a lovely picture of you two being gross at dinner i wonder who took it

yourusername: it's this lovely gentleman, i'll have to introduce you. he's quite loud, very charming and should consider going into theatre with his vocal projection

danielricciardo: you think i'm ready for the stage?

maxverstappen1: i think we all think you're ready for the stage

user6: wait so do you think daniel, heidi, y/n and max go on double dates? that's so cute

user7: sometimes i hurt myself by thinking it could've been a triple date if charles wasn't such as ass

maxverstappen1: when she's a triple threat 😍

yourusername: but i can't sing, dance or act?

maxverstappen1: but you are smart, beautiful and can put up with me :)

yourusername: you act like being with you is a chore maxy :( i'd spend all my waking moments with you if i could

landonorris: i'm sending these ^^ comments to my therapist, you guys make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: sorry dude

yourusername: lando !! let us play matchmaker ??

landonorris: i'll let you play matchmaker just don't let max have too much input

maxverstappen1: why not i clearly have good taste?

user8: anyone else wondering whether y/n and charles actually spoke after he was seen outside her building?

user9: i was thinking about that too ... i'm guessing they either didn't or it didn't go well by the fact that he's no where to be seen here

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,203,500 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: new weekend, new helmet. this one was designed by the love of my life who put her architecture degree to good use to make me this beautiful lid. love you y/n hope to bring you a trophy back in return 🧡

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user13: max being the resident grid sweetheart was not on my 2023 bingo card

yourusername: no worries max, it was an absolute honour to design a helmet for you.

maxverstappen1: it's an honour to wear something designed by you

yourusername: call me the adrian newey of helmet design

maxverstappen1: that's a big shout, that i'm inclined to believe

redbullracing: adrian gives his stamp of approval y/n !

user14: i swear in an older charles vlog y/n spoke about how she always wanted to design a helmet for him :( i'm glad she finally got to do it

user15: no shade but at least this helmet might actually win the race lol

danielricciardo: cute lid, is y/n open for commission?

maxverstappen1: nope she's mine and mine only (unless you're paying)

yourusername: what he said

user16: i just know charles is screaming, crying and throwing up rn

user17: probably not, people stop being friends all the time, he's got more than one friend and is a millionaire, he's living his best life

user16: his track record says otherwise, he's extremely petty, he probably can't handle that max and y/n don't care about him anymore

user18: tbf from what we saw charles was looking to reconcile, it's more y/n who has been unreasonable

user19: i think she's well within her rights to refuse forgiveness and from reports charles never apologised, this has been a pattern of behaviour for years now. she deserved better, she's now got better

liked by maxverstappen1

user20: i love that max likes all the shady comments about the situation cause i know y/n would never

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, carlossainz55 and 908,344 others

charles_leclerc: always make time for your real friends.

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user21: if there's one thing men will have, it's the audacity

user22: well this is an interesting response

user23: are we meant to clap?

arthurleclerc: what happened to the plan?

charles_leclerc: than plan failed in the minute she closed the door in my face

arthurleclerc: call me, but also stop making excuses

user24: yes it is logical to do this offline arthur, but consider this, i want to read the drama

user25: but at this point how is it drama? it's just charles being stubborn. y/n gave him a full explanation and by the look of it he didn't do a very good job with it

user26: the thing is i honestly believe that however bad the apology would be y/n would still forgive him. they've been friends for so long i think she honestly wants it to work out but shit like this does not help his case

carlossainz55: mate i am so confused

charles_leclerc: what's so confusing? she can say that this has led to her finding "the real thing" but i can't?

carlossainz55: but if you wanted to reconcile, you look like an asshole

charles_leclerc: fine, make me the bad guy like everyone else

user27: charles is really in his whiny boy era lord

user28: all i know is that y/n and max are probably at home having the laugh of their lives

f1wagsupdates

liked by 3,095 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln was in the red bull garage this weekend with verstappen's family. max won this race wearing the helmet she designed for him.

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user31: they are the cutest couple on the grid, perhaps of all time

user32: they're defo on the way to that, if they get married could defo grab best couple of all time

user33: the way she still stopped at ferrari to talk to arthur and wish him and charles luck ... clearly there's a bigger person here

user34: y/n is already so close to the verstappens, her and sophie and victoria were together all weekend.

user35: my friend had a paddock pass and overheard sophie asking y/n when she'll be giving her more grandkids

user36: OMG WHAT? what did y/n say?

user35: that she'd have to be mrs. verstappen first

user37: do not play with me right now if we get the charles and y/n friend breakup and y/n and max engagement all in one season my brain may explode

user38: if max weren't winning every race anyway i'd defo say that this is the lucky helmet

user39: i mean grand slams aren't that common, so maybe it is

user40: max win and charles disasterclass, the best weekend possible for y/n

user41: i don't think she actually wants charles to do badly though, she wouldn't have wished him luck..

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,405,649 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: i've won a lot of races this year but my biggest win of all was your heart. here's to forever together ❤️

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user42: i think i just saw charles drop to his knees in monaco

user43: i mean they can still be friends? there was never any romantic feelings he's just being weird about being in the wrong and it being max

danielricciardo: i'm so so happy for you guys, you deserve this so much. all the happiness to you, i shall assume my position as best man effective immediately

maxverstappen1: bit forward to assume that you're best man mate

danielricciardo: wait, i'm not best man ?

maxverstappen1: i joke, you are, of course, the best man and i can't think of a better man for the job

yourusername: just don't go too crazy with the stag night, i've heard about your nights out back in the day (seen the videos too)

danielricciardo: i don't know what you're talking about, we'll have a boys night in, a round of uno and he'll be ready at the altar right on time

user44: why am i actually so happy for people i don't even know

yourusername: i can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life, red bull drive babysitter and cat mama

maxverstappen1: i think jimmy and sassy might just be as excited as me (maybe)

yourusername: i know i can tell by all the holes in my shoes

maxverstappen1: we all have our ways of showing love, some bites holes in shoes, some like to follow you everywhere

landonorris: the way max could be either one

maxverstappen1: ummm i'm trying to be romantic stop accusing me of biting my fiancee's shoes

yourusername: don't worry maxy, i'd still marry you even if you bite my shoes

user45: this is an amazing thing and not to bring the mood down, but do we think y/n will invite charles to the wedding?

user46: max could as well, they are friends, even if charles is trying to use their rivalry as a 'reason' to be angry at this relationship

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,206,782 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i am lost for words. i never knew i could love someone as much as i love you, and it is my biggest honour to spend the rest of my life with you.

view all comments

user47: she has really won at life i'm so happy for her

user48: who knew being ditched in corsica would be so good for a girl

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1: i love you more than you could ever know, couldn't think of a better mrs. verstappen-y/ln

yourusername: i can't wait to have matching last names

user49: wait is max also going to take y/n's name?

maxverstappen1: yep and couldn't be prouder to have her name

yourusername: awww maxy i love you

user50: so... did charles get an invite?

charles_leclerc: no. so much for moving forward.

yourusername: i won't let you ruin this announcement for me. let the postal service do their job. please get your shit together before you rsvp or fuck off, i have no problem burning that invite.

user51: oof.

landonorris: congrats guys, do me and daniel get a prize for listening to the years of pining that led to this

yourusername: you can get a gold star?

landonorris: make it solid gold and done.

yourusername: girl.

maxverstappen1: if red bull ask whether we drank on this getaway say no

yourusername: we defo didn't spray champagne like we were on a podium and then eat our weight in pasta

maxverstappen1: i had to celebrate my girl :)

note: hiiiii, i know this was highly, highly requested and i hope this has met expectations. i've had real bad writers block and some shit going on in my personal life, so i'm not the happiest with this but could see another part if i get enough ideas lol. thanks for reading <3

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.

“But we made such good plans,” he laments.

You kiss his cheek.

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.

His eyebrows raise.

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face.

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again.

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything?

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.

“Do you want to?”

Woah.

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how?

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches.

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.

The size sinks in a quick second later.

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed.

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his.

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again.

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck.

He really wants to tell you right now.

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.

“Stand up.”

You frown.

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no.

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

part 3.5

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