#Grandma tried to warn them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lqvesoph · 6 months

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Everything you need - LN4

gif by @transgp

landonorris x horner!reader

summary: your heart stopped when you saw your boyfriend crashing out of the las vegas gp but you were more than happy to stay by his side through all the hospital stuff that followed

warnings: crash, mention of pregnancy

masterlist | taglist

"What was that?", you furrowed your brows. "What was what?", your mum asked, eyes still focused on the screen. "The camera, it looked like-", you stopped talking when the camera cut to a car in the barriers, dust all around it.

Your initial reaction was to look at the name board, to see whose name would drop down the order, to tell you which driver you were currently looking at. And your heart stopped when you saw the driver with the letters NOR dropping on the board.

You obviously were more than aware of the risks of racing, especially in street courses like this one. You basically grew up on track with your father but you never usually let yourself even think of the possibility that your boyfriend could have a big crash some day. You were scared to even imagine it, because the simple idea of losing him hurt too much for you to handle.

Your hand went up to your mouth, the fear clearly visible in your eyes, the other hand found its way to your stomach where your little 8 week old wonder was. The screen showed Lando’s dad with the same worried expression on his face before cutting to you.

"Mummy, what’s happening?", your two and a half year old daughter asked and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket.

You tried to look at your dad on the pitwall, watching as he clicked on Lando’s onboard and then lifted his thumb.

Your mum shook her heard, making your father stand up and walk across the pitlane to you.

He squeezed your arm to get you to look to him. "He’s moving, darling. He’s okay, he was on the radio and said he’s okay", he tried to calm you down but the tears were still brimming in the corner of your eyes.

"I have to see him", you muttered, pressing your daughter Amelia closer to you. The girl whose eyes looked like an exact replica of Lando’s looked up to you. You could see how worried she was getting from seeing that you weren’t ok.

"They are taking him to the medical center, love, you won’t be allowed in", Christian tried to sooth you but it wasn’t working. "I have a child with him, they will let me in and I don’t care if not, I have to see him!", you spoke and stood up, still with Amelia pressed to you.

"Do you want me to take her?", Geri asked but you immediately shook your head. "No, I need her with me", you mumbled and hurried through the Red Bull garage and down the paddock to the Mclaren one on wobbly legs. Cisca was the first person to catch you and immediately came over to wrap you into a hug.

"Is he okay?", you asked, your voice breaking while your lips quivered. Amilia clung to your jacket, burying her head in the crook of your neck. "He said he is but his voice told a different story", she said, holding you tight.

You looked over at Adam and Will, both studying the screen in front of them closely. You looked at your daughter. "Baby, look, grandma is here. Do you want to go to grandma for a second?", you talked to her in a soothing voice.

Amelia shook her head slightly. "Stay with you, Mummy", she muttered and snuggled closer. You nodded and walked over to Lando’s dad and engineer. Adam’s eyes softened when he saw you and his grandchild and wrapped an arm around you immediately.

"Can I hear his radio?", you asked quietly. Will hesitated a second but gave you his headphones before replying Lando’s crash.

Your heart broke when you heard his shaky voice and heavy breaths, the tears spilling out of your eyes. You put the orange headphones down again and leaned your head against Adam’s shoulder.

"Shhh, he’s okay. He’s alive and walking which is the most important thing", Adam whispered and pressed a light kiss to your hair.

"Y/n, Lando’s asking for you", you heard a voice behind you. One of the engineers looked at you, scratching the back of his head. "There’s some medical guy outside who wanted me to get you."

You brushed your tears away with the sleeves of the Red Bull jacket you were wearing and nodded.

You grabbed Lando’s Mclaren cap from the pult he always throws his stuff on before racing and put it on your head, pulling the front further down to keep your face hidden from photographers.

Cisca, Adam and you followed the medical person to the medical center. "Where are we going, mummy?", your daughter asked, slight fear in her voice because she didn’t know what’s going on. "We’re going to see daddy, okay?", you muttered. "Isn’t daddy racing?", she replied with a frown.

"You actually are not allowed inside the medical center but he keeps asking for you and won’t hold still so we thought it might be better to make an exception. Third door on the left", the medical guy told you when you arrived. You thanked him and handed Amelia to Cisca before hurrying down the hallway, opening the door without even thinking of knocking.

Lando sat on a stretcher, race suit hanging from his hips, the top of the fireproof next to him and his hair a mess from the helmet he was wearing only a couple of minutes before.

"Baby", he spoke, his voice sore and breaking at the end. He looked groggy and out of it.

The doctor looked up from inspecting Lando’s wrist and was visibly ready to scold you for intruding the room like that but you didn’t even acknowledge him.

Your full focus was on Lando and you hugged him tight, bringing your hands up to his curls and breathing in his familiar scent.

"Thank God", you muttered and pressed him a bit tighter. "I’m sorry for scaring you", he mumbled.

"Ma’am, I am sorry but you are not allowed in here", the doctor cleared his voice and dropped Lando’s wrist. You pulled back from Lando but before you could say anything, he spoke up.

"No, no, it’s okay. I need her here!"

He grabbed your hand and brought the other to your small bump. "Can’t have you and little me in there worrying too much", he slurred, making you gently hit the back of his head. "Hey hey hey, carful there! I’ve just been in a car crash", he joked and pinched your side.

His eyes fluttered and he put his head against your chest. "Did you give him any pain meds?", you wanted to know, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"No, just something to calm him down as he wouldn’t hold still and kept turning away", the doctor told you. "Yeah because you said she can’t come!", Lando argued like a little kid, making you chuckle. "Somehow she still found her way in here", the doctor eyed you skeptical but you didn’t let it bother you.

Your complete focus was on Lando being ok after the crash, on having him inside your arms.

"From what I can tell, he hasn’t broken any bones, just some heavy bruises but I will transfer him to the University medical center for further check ups. They will do a CT scan and probably an ultrasound of his right leg. They will also give him pain medication as I am not allowed to decide that", he gave you a quick run of what would happen next.

You simply nodded and pulled Lando a bit closer. "The ambulance should be here any second."

"Come on up, we gotta get you to the ambulance and your parents and Amelia are in the hallway", you tapped the back of his head with your fingers to get him to sit up.

Lando slid down from the stretcher and reached for his fireproof. "They will probably check your vitals and put stickers on your chest so it’s not necessary to put this one back on", the doctor told him.

"But it’s cold", Lando almost whined which made you chuckle. "I can give you my Red Bull jacket", you teased him, wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him up steady.

You followed the doctor and exited the room. You noticed Lando limping a little but swallowed down your worry until the hospital doctors could confirm to you what’s wrong.

"Daddy!", Amelia called when she spotted the two of you. She wanted to wriggle out of her grandma’s arms but Cisca held her securely and waited until you reached them.

"Hey, princess", Lando smiled, caressing the top of her head and leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. Adam put a hand on Lando’s upper arm and squeezed it comfortingly.

"They are taking him to the hospital for further check ups", you told them and nodded towards the exit. "Ambulance is there."

You greeted the paramedics and let them bring Lando inside, watching as they strapped him on a gurney and just like the doctor had told you earlier, put on some stickers with cables.

"Can I ride with him, please?", you asked the man who was about to close the door. "Are you family, miss?", he asked sternly. "I’m his girlfriend and the mother of his child", you said, pointing at Amelia behind you.

"Sorry, miss. Family only!", he said but got interrupted by Lando calling out for you. "Can you get Y/n? I need her here, please!"

You raised an eyebrow and the guy sighed before nodding inside the ambulance. You thanked him and then turned around to face Lando’s parents. "Can you take Amelia with you?", you asked and Cisca nodded immediately.

You smiled thankfully and turned around to sit next to Lando, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly as the medics put more stickers to his chest.

"I was so worried about you", you mutter and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. "I’m okay, look at that", Lando said and pointed to the screen monitoring his heartbeat. "It looks like hills, wow", he stunned, making you and the paramedic who had just gave him an injection of provably pain meds, chuckle.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After Lando’s labs came back clear, you felt a lot better knowing that he was actually fine. He still sat on the hospital bed, shirtless and his racing suit covering the lower half of his body.

The pain meds he was given earlier however were still working full time.

"Babyyy!", he called for you and made grabby hands in your direction. You chuckled and handed Amelia to Cisca who stood with her husband by the door.

"How’re you feeling, baby?", you asked with a smile and stroked your fingers through his curls. "I’m GREAT!! How is little me?", he grinned and pointed to your small bump and put his hand over your shirt.

"Wait, you’re pregnant??", Cisca suddenly exclaimed. Lando smiled and nodded eagerly. "Yes with little me this time! Well we don’t know yet but I have a feeling it’s gonna be a boy!", Lando started blabbering and you now only realized that he had given away your little secret while talking to you and put your head on his shoulder.

"You’re unbelievable!", you chuckled, gently slamming your head on his shoulder a couple of times. "Why?", Lando asked confused and looked at you. You simply shook your head and patted his curls a few times.

"Well, this isn’t how we wanted to tell you but… Surprise! You’re gonna be grandparents!", you called awkwardly.

"Oh my god!", Cisca called and hurried over to pull you into a tight hug. Adam patted Lando’s shoulder with a wide smile. "Congrats", he smiled and pulled him in for a side hug. "I can’t believe this, this is awesome!!", Lando’s mum smiled, pressing a kiss to her son’s head.

"Oh yeah, Singapore WAS awesome!", he crackled, smiling like the the proudest person to walk the planet. You gasped audibly and hit his bare stomach. "Lando!!", you scolded.

"Heyy, I’ve been in a car crash, remember?", he joked, still laughing. "I don’t care. You deserved that", you shook your head in disbelief of what he just said.

Amelia started wriggling in Cisca’s arms. "Daddy!", she cranked and stretched her arms out for her father. Cisca smiled and handed Amelia to Lando who put her on his lap.

"Mr. Norris, I’m glad you are up and alright", the doctor spoke but Lando interrupted him. "Just a second, please!"

"Hey, baby", his smile brightened and he pressed Amelia to his naked chest.

The doctor smiled at the interaction and quietly left the room to stand in front of the closed door to give you some privacy.

"What’s up, baby?", Lando smiled when he noticed Amelia’s hands on his left wrist. He looked down to see her playing with the white wristbands the hospital put on him when he was admitted.

"They are cool, right?", he smiled. "It’s like a friendship bracelet!", Lando laughed. "It even says daddy’s name", he showed her the letters on the white bracelet spelling out Lando Norris.

Amelia let out a small laugh, like she always did and everything Lando did.

A content smile made its way on your face. Looking at Lando with your daughter and your one hand on your belly you knew you had everything you needed.

tagged: landonorris

liked by: landonorris, mclaren, redbullracing and 2,289,527 others

yn.horner: a turn of events in vegas…

comments:

landonorris: if your vegas trip doesn’t end in the hospital were you even in vegas🤨

–> yn.horner: Shut up🧡

mclaren: 🧡🙃

oscarpiastri: Where’s my cameo?

–> fan: Oscar is sad his parents forgot about him hahahha

danielricciardo: Brother was higher than the skies on that gurney

–> fan: LMAOOOO DANIEL

–> yn.horner: He did say some very funny stuff

–> landonorris: I did?

fan: Amelia is so sweet

fan: How did Amelia react to Lando’s crash?

–> yn.horner: She didn’t really understand what happened but was really happy to see her daddy even before the race ended☺️

–> fan: Very poor parenting to let a child witness something like this

–> fan: Bro… thats literally his daughter of course she’ll watch him race

fan: So glad to see Lando is okay❤️‍🩹

–> liked by yn.horner

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #ln4 #quadrant #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #lando norris x horner!reader

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lilisettean · 4 months

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Phantom Touch | Headcanons

About: It was one thing to video call him, it was another, however, to call/answer while you were barely clothed.

Pairings: Xavier/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader

Notes: This idea came to me when Rafayel video called MC in the middle of the night (Lv 20 Random Painting). Also should I do Caleb's as well?

Warnings: 18+ only please! Enjoy :)

Xavier

It was by accident when it happened. You were trying to find your favorite hairpin after your shower but it was nowhere to be found.

You searched high and low, flipped cushions and threw your blankets onto the floor. Nothing. Goddamnit you can't afford to lose that hairpin- it was one of the gifts Grandma gave you, you just simply can't lose it.

In an act of desperation, you called Xavier on your phone, not caring whether you pressed on normal call or video call. You just needed him on because you might've left it in his place.

To say Xavier was surprised the moment you came on screen would be an understatement. He almost dropped his phone (it did slip from his hands but he was quick enough to hold onto it), and not a word you said has registered in his brain.

His eyes were fixated upon the water droplets that clung to you skin, following the trail a drop of water left behind as it slid down from your neck, to your decollete, and between your cleavage. His mind was busy tearing that insolent piece of cotton fabric into shred for daring to shield you from his gaze.

It was only when you shuffled forward and waved a hand in front of the camera did he snap out of his less than innocent daydream.

"Xaiver? What are you staring at?" "Are you aware of what you are wearing?" "...Shit-"

"No, don't." He said the moment you tried to cut the call, and instead, with much strength he could muster not to ogle at your form again, he diverted your attention.

He found your hairpin lying on his bedside table and when you were about to thank him, a mischievous smile crept up his face, and you just knew what he was about to ask.

"Can I have a reward for finding it so quickly?" Xavier asked, his gaze predatory as he flicked his eyes down to stare at the towel that was clinging onto you for dear life. With slight trepidation, you settled down on the sofa, and slowly peeled off the towel that you knew he wanted off. Now.

You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lower lip when you heard the soft Mmh over the phone. He greedily drank in the sight of you, your bare, still unmarred skin glistening under the soft lights.

A daring thought suddenly struck you. Smiling at him, you brought your hands up to your breasts, propping them up and giving them a good squeeze (which he quietly groaned your name in response), before flicking your nipples.

You knew he was hard, with how he slumped against his sofa, one of his hands nowhere to be seen. The stuttered breath he let out made you wonder whether he was palming over his hard on as you gave him this little show.

He was. He was pressing his cock against his palm, rutting against it as you played with your pert nipples. He was imagining grinding his cock against you, fucking your slick folds as he buried his face between your breasts.

In a daring move, you tilted your phone downwards and lifted your legs, showing him the effect he had on you. But before you could spread yourself further to give him a better look, he suddenly stood up, giving you an eyeful of his clothed cock that was straining against the front of his pants.

Before he abruptly cut the call, he eyes drooped to a seductive narrow, and pinned you in place as he spoke.

"Don't move. I'll be there within the minute."

Zayne

Zayne, despite his icy demeanor, was a softie and a worrywart when it comes to you. He would always tell you to call him once you were home just so he knows you made it back safely.

So when he received a text asking if he was free and alone instead of a call, his curiosity was piqued.

As soon as he said that yes, he was alone and about to be off work, he received another text. A text that he did not expect you to send.

It was a picture of you on his bed, wearing nothing but one of his white button up shirts, if he can even call it that. You didn't button it all the way, leaving your collarbone and cleavage bare for him to see.

He immediately video called you, and as expected, instead of commenting on your attire, the first thing he asked was-

"Why are you in my bed?" "I knew you'd ask that first. Really?"

You explained with a huff that you wanted to surprise him a little. It has been a while since you two have seen each other for more than 5 minutes, with you two being busy with work and all. And with his day off being tomorrow, you jumped on the chance to be with him.

After a beat of silence and you fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he sighed, his features softened at your nervous fidgeting.

"Well, go on then. What do you have to show me?" "Show you- Aren't you still at the hospital?" "It's a peaceful day and I'm alone in my office. Would you give me a preview at what's in store for me at home?"

He stared on intently as you teased your nipples, brushing over them while they were still covered. Your pert nipples poked through his shirt, the outline of them fueling his imagination.

If you were on his lap right now, he would've done that for you whilst sucking on one of your nipples through the shirt you were wearing.

You were about to unbutton the shirt but his voice stopped you. "No, don't. Leave it on... Good."

He made no move to touch himself, as anyone could walk in at any moment, but by God did he want to. His eyes flicked between your flushed face and your body, already imagining the places he would leave his mark on.

He already knew what he would do to you once he got home. He would set you down on his lap, forcing you to feel how hard you made him with your little show, and leave open mouthed kisses on your neck while slipping his hands under his?- no, yours now, with how well you wear it, shirt.

But deep down he knew that once he got home, he would have no patience for that. He would most likely push you down to the bed and use one hand to grope your breast, while the other fixed your hip in place, allowing no escape as he rutted his stiff cock against you. He doesn't care if his pants get ruined, he just wants you-

"Zayne?" Your voice brought him back from his thoughts. And with much reluctance, he motioned for you to stop. "That's enough for now sweetheart. I still have to get home first." "Should I send you more pictures while you're on your way?" "No need. Just be a good girl and wait for me."

Rafayel

Being a painter, Rafayel would sometimes work late into the night, busy with his newest piece. And while he enjoyed the peace and quiet nightfall brings, at times he would find the studio too quiet, too suffocating, especially without you around. Thus, he would call you and ask you to keep him company as he painted.

And on this night, it was no different. Save for the brush strokes against the canvas, the room was too quiet for his liking. He had expected you to pick up within a few rings and show up disheveled on call, but as soon as you answered the call, the thought of teasing you like usual quickly dissipated.

"What- What are you wearing?" He diverted his gaze elsewhere, occasionally sneaking peeks at his phone screen while you blinked the sleep away from your eyes. Instead of your usual pyjamas, you were wearing a lingerie set he had not seen before.

He had half a mind to tell you to pull up the strap that had fell off your shoulder mid sleep, but the words died in his throat the moment you shifted and the strap slipped further down, revealing more of your decollete to him.

The blush that was already on his face intensified when he noticed the hickies on your skin, the evidence of him ravaging you highlighted by the moonlight shining through the window.

"Rafayel? What is it?" You asked, still half asleep. You wondered why he was quiet until you found him staring intently at your chest and- Oh. Of course.

You had bought it because you wanted to surprise him by taking pictures of it. But it seemed that you were too tired and fell asleep in the process. "...Surprise? I wanted to show you earlier but-" "Wait. Hold that position."

You did as you were told and froze. He was studying you again, perhaps for future reference. As much as you liked being his model, you pouted at his antics. Not even a single reaction? Sighing, you broke the silence between you two.

"I could come over and wear this for you, if you want." "You would do that for me?" "Of course." "Then come." "What?" "You said you would come over, no? Then come now. But before that..."

"Would you mind showing me more before I tear it off?" And how could you say no to a request like that?

Settling your phone down, you bent forward to show him your cleavage before standing to show off the lingerie you were wearing.

"Turn. Now hold it." You fidgeted as you faced away from the camera, wondering what he was doing as he marveled your form. The faint sound of rustling clothes and a belt unbuckling floated from the speaker, and you instantly knew what he was up to.

"Do you enjoy it that much?" "And what about it? Turn again."

As expected, he was sitting on an armchair, slowly stroking the base of his cock as he watched the thin fabric flutter around you. Heat pooled within you when caught his eyes roaming all over you, his face flushed and lips parted as he touched himself.

He groaned when you parted your legs to show him more of you, his cock throbbing at the sight of your slicked folds. Precome beaded at the tip as he stroked more, with some of it sliding down his tip and to the underside of his cock.

Something within snapped the moment you dipped your fingers into your wet entrance. And with one smooth motion, he stood up, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) giving you an eyeful of his stiff cock, and picked up his phone.

"Enough. Come to me now." "Just don't tear it when I'm there." "No promises." "Rafayel-" "Hurry now, before I come find you instead."

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace xavier x reader #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deepspace headcanons #so uh yeah. i might actually write fic based on this instead of just hcs #i am so down bad can you tell lmao

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007reid · 6 months

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So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..

I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??

you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(

secrets p. 2. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!

summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.

warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.

a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.

spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”

it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.

the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.

the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.

you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”

“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.

he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.

he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.

he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.

“yn?”

“almost there,” you respond through the door.

“can i come in?”

“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.

maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.

“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.

you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.

spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."

"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"

"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"

"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."

to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.

"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."

you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."

"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.

"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."

"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.

"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."

***

spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.

goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.

"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.

"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"

"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.

"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"

"well i tried to--"

"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.

"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.

"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.

"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.

"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."

"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"

the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.

he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.

the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.

"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."

as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.

"ow!"

"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."

"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."

spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.

"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.

"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.

when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.

"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.

"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"

spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"

a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.

"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.

"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.

it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.

jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.

spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.

victory.

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #mgg #my works

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No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin Pt.1 | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader

Word Count: 8.6 k

Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them.

Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him).

Warnings: SMUT, Non-apt for Christians(?). Reader is a little cynical (or maybe cynical Af). Suggestive talks, touching oneself, fingering. Reader seduces a Priest (so whatever you might expect from that), hierophiIia, corruption!kink, praise!kink (if you squint). Consent is sexy!

Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

ACT I: Remember to keep holy the LORD’s Day

You really didn’t want to go to church. You had one hell of a week and you were incredibly tired so when you got the phone call with your grandma inviting you to go, you were about ready to say no.

But your grandma has always been extremely catholic, and while you weren’t anymore, you hadn’t seen her in a while, and you missed her. Her being in town for your short vacation was a good enough reason to visit her more often (she was staying with your parents) and if you’d have to live through a whole hour of some boring priest talking about all the things that are wrong with society nowadays, then you would. Even if you didn’t want to.

That didn’t stop you from being cranky over the fact that you’d have to wake up extra early to take the 40-minute ride to the church she claimed “was the best one in the city,” according to her priest back at home (of course she couldn’t just ask you to the nearest fucking church).

Breathe, you told yourself. This is for your grandma, you repeated as you sat on the narrow seat of public transport, next to the gym bro that smelled like he could use a shower and whose massive arms would bump into you whenever the bus went through a pothole.

When you finally reached your spot, you had to wake him up so he would move his massive legs to the side and you could fucking pass through, walking down the bus in the sea of people that for some reason had taken the same one. Once outside you took a deep breath and tried to relax again. You didn’t want to look as pissed as you felt when you finally saw your grandma. At least it was a fucking cloudy day and you wouldn’t have to deal with the sun as you walked the 4 blocks left you had until you arrived at the church.

Who the fuck would invent a church so goddamn far from everything important? You wondered as you approached.

Oh, you thought once you saw it. Someone who wanted a lot of space then.

The church was massive. And while you might have been prone to exaggerate when you were pissed, you were far from exaggerating now. It was almost a small castle, maybe the largest church in the city, certainly the largest one you had seen in your life (not that you had seen a great many but certainly a few).

On the outside, there were very many intricate details carved, a few gargoyles at the top in a very Notre Dame-esque sort of way. Except while Notre Dame ended in a very square and neat way, the towers of this one extended far above the roof and ended in a pointy, almost menacing sort of way. You had been so absorbed by the intricate details of the tower, that you didn’t realise you were walking straight into someone.

“Uhh sorry,” you said as you stumbled back, pulling your gaze from the structure and towards the person right in front of you. You were absorbed by him the second your eyes met his: golden brown, almost shining with the way the sun was hitting them. You weren’t sure you had ever seen a more perfect person in your life, they were exactly your–

“I see you’ve met Father Remus!” Your grandma said as she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back from him a couple more steps.

Father? He’s married? You wondered until you noticed his clothes, all-black suit, white necktie, she meant Father as in Priest?!?

The man –Remus– smiled, gentle, sweet and caring. “Nice to meet you…” there was silence. It took you a second to realise the man was expecting your name, and you gave it to him, fast and still slightly disoriented.

“Come on, angel,” your nan said as she pulled you towards the entrance. “We can talk after the mass.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, turning up your most charming smile as you waved goodbye to the man. His eyes seemed to trail on your hand, but your grandma pulled you again, and you were forced to turn around.

“It’s Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Right, sorry,” you said, almost carelessly, not carelessly enough for her to notice, though.

“I’m glad you came, I don’t think any of your cousins made it.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Nan,” you said as you turned around to see if Remus was still around. He was not anymore, you turned back to her. “It’s lovely to be here with you.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, you liked spending time with her, she was lovely. But you did not like going to the church, you had long parted with the catholic ideals and you weren’t interested in most of the archaic teachings of the church. Especially the homophobic ones, you thought the closed-mindedness of the church was a terrible thing, and that it stopped many people from being who they truly were, not to mention how it affected a lot of people you knew. It was because of that close-mindedness that some of your friends had to hide themselves from their parents. Because god forbid their children were gay.

Now, not everything about the church was bad, some values were good and important, but at this point in the progressive world, perhaps the bad outweighed the good. And in the end, religions were just a way of controlling the masses, no surprise the church service was called “mass”.

You could have made a list of everything that was wrong, in a very Lutheran manner, sent it to your grandma and never attended again, but she was old and you knew there was no way she’d understand, especially when she’d been conditioned to think a certain way for far more years than you’d been alive. So instead, you decided to sit through the service with her, and make her happy, rather than be the rebel you sometimes wanted to be.

Ah the service, it was boring until Remus came out. If you thought he’d look handsome in the cassock, you could have been awestruck when you saw him wearing that white alb. Yes, those Sunday school days had taught you enough. He wore a cincture around the waist that matched the alb, and you’d swear you deserve hell when you pictured yourself pulling the entire thing off him in a secret corner of the massive church. In the middle of mass, while the head priest kept talking about things related to Jesus and how he saved someone or whatever, you were thinking of calm and collected Father Remus, losing control and giving in to the lust of the flesh, and all of it for you.

A small smirk played on your face as you thought of all the things you’d like to do to Remus, of all the sounds you’d have him make. Was it sinful? Perhaps. Did it warrant hell? Most likely. Luckily, you didn’t believe in hell any more than you believed in heaven.

And then it came to you. The idea that would certainly warrant a hell of a lot more than your lewd imaginings. If stealing was a sin, then how sinful would it be to steal something from god? To pilfer one of his men for yourself?

What an ungodly thing to do, so devilish that perhaps you wouldn’t be in hell to be punished but rather to punish. Was it perhaps a revenge for being forced into church for so many years, for having to sit through hours of Sunday School and the indoctrination you had to put up with but somehow managed to see past? Yeah. But at this point, you weren’t sure you cared. Something about Remus had sucked you in like a moth to a flame and you wanted to cling to whatever that was. Otherwise, you might have not be able to go through with your plan.

It wouldn’t happen all in one day, it couldn’t happen all in one day. It had to be slow, steady, and repetitive, like the snake tempting Eve, like Eve tempting Adam. You hadn’t seen yourself as a sexy woman throughout your life, at least not the kind of Sexy Femme Fatale that men seemed to live and diе for in movies. No, you had never been like that, and you wouldn’t start today. But you would perform the most outrageous and strong act of seduction you had ever thought of and it had to be done perfectly, or you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

What was it that you wanted again? Right, you wanted Remus Lupin.

ACT II: Thou shall not steal

“When was the last time you confessed?” Your Nan whispered as she leaned onto you, people were already standing for communion.

You hesitated. “I’m not sure, Nan.”

She hummed in return, clearly disapproving of your distancing from the church. You were sure she would have called you heathen if you said the truth, it had been years.

“I could go up and confess now,” you said as you looked at the confessionary in the back, you had seen Remus enter it, but you suspected it was too soon to start with the plan.

“No darling, repent for your sins and you can confess later. Perhaps after mass.”

“Or during the week,” you said with a knowing smile.

“Isn’t it a long way from your apartment?”

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it anyway.”

She stood up and took the communion, leaving you sitting on the chair and looking at the way people would walk toward the altar. Judging them, if that made sense. There was a woman who accommodated her breasts back in her seat before standing up, she threw a look at one of the other priests as she took the host. You gave her an approving sort of glance before you turned to someone else. Now you didn’t exactly consider her way of seducing appealing, but then again, yours wouldn’t be much better either. So to each their own. The man behind her had been touching himself in the very back of the church and had stared at her ass throughout the entire line, probably for more material.

Sinners, the church claiming to be so saint, and it was full of them.

You weren’t much better than them either, the difference is that you didn’t harbour the same hate towards yourself for it. No, you knew what nature was and you knew that despite how much we humans pretended to be better, we still were all animals. And there are a few things that animals want and need. Love, or the act of love, was one of them. That’s what you’d be using to your favour.

When your Nan came back, you helped her kneel and do her praying; all the while you attentively looked around. Remus had left the concessionary already and he was at the front with the rest of the priests. He spotted you looking at him and you smiled kindly, innocently at him. The kind of smile someone with the thoughts surging in your head wouldn’t be able to give, and yet, you accomplished it seamlessly.

He gave you a courteous nod and you reciprocated it. The rest of the mass was as boring as you’d expect it to be; except for the fact that Remus was looking at you rather often, either he was curious about their new parishioner, or he was interested. Either way, you were sure you’d be able to use that in your favour.

When the mass was over, you had to wait for all of them to exit the church first and then you helped your Nan stand and walked with her towards the entrance. Remus was there, giving short blessings and handing out some pamphlets about donations and other similar stuff. Your grandma was the one to pull you towards him. “What a wonderful mass,” she said. “Father Ernest was onto something when he told me to come here while I was in the city.”

“Thank you,” Remus said bashfully, you could almost see him blush at the praise. What would a real blush look on him? You were dying to know.

“Wonderful indeed, although I would have liked to hear your interpretation of the verses, Remus,” You said.

“Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Oh, it’s fine. If it feels more personal you may call me just Remus, dear one.”

You tried to hold back the snide smile you would have thrown your Nan had it been any other woman. You could call him Remus. You were a dear one.

“Right, perhaps another day,” you added with a smile and pulled your grandma to the side so the next person could take the blessing.

“I preach on Wednesdays,” Remus said, tone borderline desperate, as he raised his head over the people and women piling around him. Clearly, you weren’t the only one to harbour a little crush on Father Remus. It didn’t matter though, because you’d be the one to have him.

Next Wednesday you didn’t make any plans, and you put on something simple but elegant. A squared-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. When you arrived at the church, you didn’t waste as much time admiring it, instead, you decided to walk straight inside. His mass had started already, and you sneaked in through the side until you reached the third row of seats. There weren’t as many people as you’d expect on a Wednesday, but Remus was preaching like there were hundreds. He was wonderful.

He had a way with words that made you want to listen, perhaps if you weren’t so cynical, it would even convert you. But rather than thinking of his prayer, you were thinking of how incredible he would be as a teacher, you imagined the students, squirming for him and his words in their seats. You imagined the older, more daring girls going after him. You were lucky that wasn’t the situation, the kind of woman that could seduce any man had the benefit of practice that you didn’t. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.

But the kind of woman that went to the church, the kind that flocked to him at the end of mass, they weren’t a threat. They were too pious to try anything even remotely similar to what you had in mind. In fact, you even dared to think you were lucky that he had been a priest and not a teacher because then he would have perhaps been married, and while you were willing to take a man from god, you would never take one from another woman. You had limits.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.”

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.”

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.”

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.”

“The way I see it, Saint Gryffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see the beautiful priest Remus.”

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been carved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and exiting the church.

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be.

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his attention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

ACT III: Thou shall not Covet someone else’s property

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray.

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?”

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.”

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was.

Almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.”

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?”

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you?

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps corrupting him would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you.

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you.

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end.

“I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.”

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.”

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–” Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.”

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it.

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course.

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–”

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.”

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him, Father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.”

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man.

“I didn’t stop him when he pinned me against the wall, and I didn’t stop him when his hand dug under my shirt. I said nothing when it travelled to my breast, and I all but moaned when he pinched my nipple.”

“That is enough, I get the idea.”

“But that’s not the whole dream,” you protested, you sounded mortified. How could he stop your repentance for his own misguided thoughts? A man of God wasn’t supposed to harbour this kind of feelings for a fellow human, he was not meant to like you so much, and his pants were not meant to be as uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to go onto the details–”

“But Father, I must repent for all of my sins.”

Remus sighed, “Go on then.”

“And then when he reached down, oh Remus, I spread my legs for him rather than shut them close…” you didn’t say a thing. You could hear his breathing had gotten a lot more ragged. “He slid this hand through my knickers and touched me, that place that should only be touched by your husband. And… it felt good. I moaned his name until my voice went hoarse in the dream. I saw him pump himself and woke up as he rubbed his cock onto my folds.”

There was a sigh of relief when he thought the story was over. “It is good that you repent–”

“The worst part is yet to come.” You said, and you breathed. “When I awoke, I felt a wetness between my legs. My underwear was moist and the stickiness had rubbed onto my legs. I know I shouldn’t have done it, Remus, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to know if it would feel as good as in the dream.”

“Child.”

“I reached down and repeated the actions the man had done to me. My fingers weren’t as strong or secure, but I found a spot that felt incredible, and I kept touching it, rubbing it, circling around it.”

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in an almost painful way. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned.

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dеad and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.”

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it.

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood.

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?”

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.”

ACT IV: Thou shall not commit adultery

Remus couldn’t stop thinking of you since that day. He’d get boners with the mere thought of you, with the idea of you going back to his confessionary and telling him all the lewd things you had done while thinking of him again.

He thought of you in the shower, and he thought of you in bed, and he thought of you while praying to try and take his mind away from you as well. He knew he was in deep trouble and he had no one he could talk to about his problem.

He had avoided touching himself, but it was hard and it was painful to ignore the throbbing sometimes, and he had to give in. Gently brushing his hand on top of his trousers until either it subdued or he came, completely forgetting who he was and thinking only of your hot lips in his and your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you in the exact same way he’d had you in your dream. A dream that had now become as much his as it had been yours.

The next Wednesday he was nervous. Bouncing his leg while he had breakfast and playing with his nails while he read the verse he’d have to give that day. His breath was stuck in his throat as he started to preach and he waited. And waited as he spoke and looked at the door and then back at the bible held between his hands and then back at the door.

You didn’t go to church that day.

Naturally, he was mortified. Thinking he had done something wrong, thinking he had scared you and thinking he’d pushed you away somehow. Thinking you were too scared to see him again after those lewd dreams, thinking –God forbid- you had chosen a different church to attend.

So when the next Wednesday you showed up with a small skirt (the smallest you had ever gone to church with) and a simple preppy-looking sweater he couldn’t help but be both relieved and terrified, all at the same time. You had tinted your lips red, not enough for it to be lipstick, but enough for them to look raw and bitten, and while your hair was perfectly put together, and your makeup right in place, there was something about you that screamed danger.

You sat right in the very first row. There were like 5 other people in the massive church that day. Someone sitting in the middle. A couple of old people in the back and a few others scattered around. No one young, and no one near the front either.

Oh, what a terrible thing it was that you were about to do.

Remus was quick to dismiss his deacons, asking them to go fetch something while he preached mass and they gave him a courteous nod while he started talking. As per usual, you listened attentively, paying close attention to the things he said, and despite yourself, often finding the things that you disagreed with. You realized he could barely take his eyes off you, and you slowly, spread your legs. Only a little, only enough to get his attention. You saw the way he licked his lips, and went back to talking. And you smiled. You pulled your ass back and opened yourself a little wider before crossing one leg over the other. You accommodated your skirt with your hand, slow and steady. Pulling your skirt up to show more skin before pulling it down and settling it in place, but only after he’d noticed, and seen as much of skin as possible, all the while, pretending to be doing it all innocently. Like you hadn’t worn that small skirt on purpose and like you hadn’t taken off your knickers and placed them in your bag in that public loo before walking inside the church.

When the mass ended, you saw Remus disappear into the confessionary. Onto the confession side. You saw him look around and then get inside, nervous as if scared to be seen. Probably trying to run away from you. When you made sure that there was no one left, you walked inside the other side. He was hunched, elbows leaning on his knees and head hidden between his hands. You thought you had gone too far since he looked like he had been crying, but you quickly realised he had been praying instead.

Sure, he’d have complicated thoughts, but your plan was meant to be fun for the two of you, and you wanted him to enjoy being corrupted as much as you enjoyed corrupting him.

“Remus,” you said tentatively. “Are you okay?”

He gasped and turned to the small division, he couldn’t see you, but you could see him perfectly. “It’s you.”

Rather than replying you cocked your head to the side. “Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess,” you joked. He gave you a stern look from the other side, a reproaching sort of look as if he wanted to tell you how terrible it was for you to impersonate a Priest, but he didn’t speak. “Or should I speak of mine first?”

“Please don’t.”

“Then sing, little bird.”

Remus huffed. “I’ve been thinking about a woman, non-stop.”

“A church woman?”

“I’m not sure if she really is a church woman anymore.”

“A devil?”

“No.”

You smiled, “Then, what’s so wrong about thinking of her?”

“I’m no ordinary man. It’s against my beliefs.”

“To think of a woman is against your beliefs?”

“To think of her in the way I’ve been thinking of her.”

“Which is?”

“As terrible as your dream, my darling.”

You smirked at that, biting your lip so hard you might have drawn bIood if you hadn’t stopped to say something else. “So you’ve been thinking of kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Of touching me?”

“Yes,” he said, strained.

“Of fucking me?”

Silence.

“Have you thought of the sounds I would make, of the sighs and moans and groans?”

He closed his eyes, a deep frown etched on his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I used your confession to fuel my imaginations, to satisfy my carnal desires to–”

“That’s okay.”

“It is not!” he responded, distressed.

“Remus,” you said simply. “I wanted you to think of me,” you admitted. “I wanted you to think of me while you touched yourself the same way I thought of you while I did it. The same way I’ve been thinking of you while doing it, in fact.”

His head snapped your way, he seemed mortified, but you could also see one of his hands being brought down, adjusting his pants.

“Do you want me to tell you how I do it?”

“No,” he lied.

“Are you sure? I won’t ask again.”

He looked to the side, red from shame. He bit his lip. “Tell me.”

You smiled, “I lay in bed, and then these images come to my mind, I think of you, of your hands. They’re touching me, they’re everywhere. I don’t know where you ended and I start and I love every bit of it. It’s my hands that travel down my thighs but I think of them as yours. It is my fingers that slide in between my folds but I believe they’re yours.”

“Fucking hell,” he said, his grip on the wooden latch, grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. You peered through the blinds and realised the tent in his pants.

“Remus,” you said quietly. He turned to the wooden division, gaze strained, eyes filled with guilt, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t see past the squares and the small, shadow of you that got through. “Touch yourself.”

It was soft, the way you said it. Soft like a suggestion more than a command, but neither of you doubted it was the latter. And as if it had been a command from God himself, he listened and did what told. He patted himself over his black pants and hissed at the strain he’d been on. It was almost painful, how constricted and trapped his cock had been.

“Soft,” you said then, watching, resisting your own temptation to dig your hand under your skirt. “Be kind to yourself, Remus, you deserve it.”

He listened, and continued to rub himself, passing his hand back and forth and allowing it to help with the strain. “Te” –he stuttered– “tell me how you feel.”

“The inner side of my legs is soft, incredibly so,” you said. “I get chills when I run my hands close to my core.”

“It’s wet,” you said then. You had dug your hand under your skirt now. “Really wet.”

He could hear your breaths getting sharper, he assumed you were also touching yourself on the other side and he could barely think properly, barely command his hand to do what it needed to do to help himself.

“That looks painful,” you said as you saw him continue to rub himself over his trousers. “Take yourself out.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Touch yourself with your bare hand, Remus.”

He seemed like he would protest, so you decided to give him some encouragement. You placed your finger between your folds and brushed over your clit, emitting a soft moan, “Please.”

Just like before, Remus followed your command, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his boxers down enough so he could pull himself out. You smiled. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” you praised from the other side. He was long, thick and standing proud. He was hesitant at first, but he eventually placed his hand around himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten how good it feels.”

Of course, he had been a teenager once, of course, he had touched himself while feeling terrible for doing so and having grown up in a Christian household.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” he asked, as he pumped. Slow and steady, as if he didn’t want to go too fast and show you how easy it was for him to cum at the thought of you.

“You’re making me insanely wet, I might have ruined your comfy little chair here.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No, I’m being a good little lamb that tells no lies,” you said in response. “Ah… fuck.”

“What was that?”

“Just thinking of how incredible your hand would feel if it were doing what mine is?”

“Which is?”

“Shhh…” you said. He stopped moving. “You hear that?” you asked. It was a lewd wet sound. “It’s my finger, coming in and out of myself.”

Remus moaned your name and bit his lips. He came in his hand before he had time to really visualize you. “Ugh,” he said as he looked at the mess he’d made all over his hands, some of it also on his pants.

You took a handkerchief from your bag and passed it over your legs, collecting some of the sticky stuff between your folds and then you passed it through the small, opened section. Crossing your hand, the one with still glistening fingers over.

You knew he’d noticed the second his eyes opened wide. “So you clean yourself, I used it for myself too.” He bit his lip and carefully took it from your hands, and cleaned your fingers with it as if he tried to wash his sin by cleaning your equally sinful fingers. But he didn’t bring his cum covered hand even close to it. Let alone his cock. “What? You think it’s gross?”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he said as he brought it close to his nose and sniffed, stifling a moan with the fabric. Now you were the speechless one. “Do you have a napkin?”

You somehow managed to pull a napkin from your bag and handed it over to him through the same place. He used that to clean himself and placed it neatly folded in one of his pockets.

“Can I keep this?” he asked as he held the handkerchief between two fingers.

“Yes,” you almost stuttered. You had never seen a man do something as ridiculous –and hot– as what he’d done.

“Will you disappear again, angel?”

“Angel?” you asked with a smirk, “I would think you’d see me as something else, a devil, perhaps.”

“Impossible, a devil wouldn’t be able to show me heaven like you did today.”

Speecheless, again. This man really could bring you to your knees. “Do you even want to see me again?”

“More than anything on this earth.”

“Fine then, I’ll come to confess tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

ACT V: Thou shall honour your Mother and Father

After the heat of the moment, Remus felt the sudden urge to repent, to throw away the handkerchief and to pray in bed until his knees were raw from how much he’d been kneeling. And he tried, but even as he prayed he knew how pointless it was. The act of repenting, of praying and being forgiven for your sins, only worked if you actually felt regret over what you’d done.

But Remus was far from feeling remorseful. He had repented a great many things throughout his life. Not trusting his innocent best friend and blaming him for things that had happened, not doing more for the world when he had the chance and smaller, pesky things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelash about but that he constantly put himself down for.

But having done what he did on the confessionary, hearing your small moans and the lewd sounds that you’d made for him, telling him what to do and how to do it, that he didn’t regret. On the other hand, he wanted to do it again. You had taken him to heaven and he was eager to see it again. And he did it, repeated the same actions, it was cold and dark and there was no one even close to his room when he pulled that handkerchief out and placed it on his face. Smelling the scent of you while he pulled himself out of his pants and jerked himself for the second time that day. He came with the thought of you at the confessionary and your name muffled by the handkerchief that he refused to move from his mouth. By the end, he was sore and delicate and he felt like he had pushed himself too hard, but he found the most peaceful sleep afterwards.

When he woke up again, he was still covered in his own cum and he had to wash the sheets of his bed in his sink before anyone noticed what he had done. The shame he felt diluting as the sun rose, and he imagined you coming back to the church. He pictured you in that small skirt you’d worn yesterday, or in the simple dress you’d taken the first time that you went to hear his mass. But he was not expecting to see you walk in the clothes you’d worn.

A white dress, long enough to reach mid-thigh, and made of soft sheer fabric layered one on top of another. He might have been imagining things but he would have sworn he could see your nipples perk through the thin fabric when you turned to him, a small, innocent smile on your face as you threw him a look and walked inside the confessionary. An angel, you really were an angel.

“Pretty thing, you’ve come back,” he said as he too walked in, this time taking the side that belonged to him, he loved that he could see you.

“I promised, Remus.”

“I know, angel. But I’m always scared I’ve dreamed you up, that you’re not real and that I was just imagining you all along.”

You smirked and pushed your hand through the small hole connecting the two of you, “I’m very real, Remus, you can touch me.”

He did, he placed his hand on top of yours and you heard a sigh of relief when his thumbs pressed onto your hand. He was careful and kind, passing his fingers over your knuckles and under your palm in a soft, gentle manner that was sending shivers down your spine. This poor man was breaking down for you, and yet he was the gentlest of them all.

“You really are,” he breathed. He didn’t know if he should be happy that you were real, or horrified by the things he’d done for you, of the things he’d do. His faith? He might have been willing to throw it all away for another chance to see you, for another chance to feel your hands, for your lips, your kisses. How could he believe in a God that had given him nothing, when you were here, willing to give him everything?

“Yesterday I saw it all and you barely got to hear me, I thought of showing you my sins rather than describing them to you today, is that okay, Father?” That last bit was a taunt, in the same way you’d been taunting him since the very beginning.

“Yes,” there was no hesitance, if anything, you would have only described the waver in his voice as excitement.

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that pulled from your lips, Remus’ breath hitched as you accommodated yourself in the chair. Leaning back and spreading your legs for him, letting the soft fabric of your dress fall in between your tights and slowly show the outline of your legs.

“When was the last time you saw a woman naked?”

“In real life? Never.”

Your head snapped to him, although all you could see was the outline of a shadow through the dark-edged wood, “Never?!? Pictures?”

“When I was around 15.” He admitted. “My best friend Peter once took a few magazines to school after the break. He said his father had gotten them for him on his 14th birthday and that he told them to take them back before his mother noticed. I barely remember them.”

“Did you jack off to them?”

“I stole a page,” he admitted with a bitter laugh. “It was this girl with a forest-green, transparent robe. I took her home with me, my father found it and he was enraged. He called me a monster and drove me straight into church.”

“The priest there took a look at the image, and made me kneel down on the rocky floor and pray for forgiveness. I don’t know if he forgot, or if he did it on purpose, but he said not to stand until he came back and he didn’t come back until 7 hours later.”

“My god,” you said. Remus didn’t even think of reprimanding you for taking his name in vain. “That must have been awful. Your parents were terrible.”

Remus shrugged, “It’s what I was used to,” he added when he remembered you couldn’t actually see him, although you could feel his hands tense at the thought.

“That means, since then… you’ve never even–?”

“No,” he admitted softly. “I guess it’s easier not to do something when you don’t know how it feels. Although my best friend was always eager to tell me how good it was.”

“Worry not, you won’t have to use your imagination anymore,” you said as you pulled your hand back into your area and moved it to the thin strap of the dress, slowly sliding it down, he could barely see the valley of your breast, and yet he felt himself start to tense, his cheeks heat and bIood rushing south.

“You don’t have to–”

“But I want to,” you said, turning your gaze from your bare shoulder and towards him, he could see the mirth shining in your eyes, he could see the mischievousness and the licentiousness reflected on your pupils. You pulled the other strap down and then moved both of your hands to the fabric at the top of your breasts, pulling it down and letting them in full view.

Remus breathed sharply when he finally saw them. Of course, he knew what they looked like, the girls in Peter’s magazine had shown him. James had described them, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in real life, it was nothing compared to seeing yours in real life.

You smiled at the little to no sound he was making from the other side. You leaned your back on the stunningly carved wooden wall of the confessionary and squared your shoulders for him. “They look like this for you,” you said as you slid your hand over one of your nipples. “They turned hard the minute I spotted you at the door.”

Silence, nothing more than a ragged breath.

“Cat got your tongue?” You teased.

“I had never seen a prettier thing in my life,” he said. “Except for your angelic face, that is.”

You laughed in return, a sweet and soft laugh that he would have done anything to hear again. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never done it.”

“Good at what?”

“At making a woman blush.” You said. “But I’m just as good,” you added as you pulled one of your legs up on the small seat, your dress fell over and bunched up covering your core, but Remus barely even cared, he was immersed in the plushness of your thigh, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his waist.

You heard him swallow thickly.

“In my dream,” you started, “In my dream, we weren’t here, we were hiding somewhere in the church.” Your breath had slowed down, one of your hands was playing with your thigh, the other one on your breast. You didn’t usually pay much attention to them, but it was that you knew his eyes were on you, that touching them, knowing how it must have made him feel, was turning you on even more than before. “You were kissing me –ah– you were touching me.”

Remus was, by now, having to adjust his extremely uncomfortable pants.

“How?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Show me how I was touching you.”

You couldn’t even hold back the smile from your face. “You traced your fingers over my thigh,” you placed your hand on your bare knee, and then started to move it downwards, towards yourself. “You were kissing me here,” you added as you leaned your neck to the side for him to see better. And then… you touched me here.” Your hand was already in your core. You moved the ruffles of the dress to the side, allowing him to see, to see all of you. You heard a small gasp, when he noticed you had worn no knickers.

“You slid your hands on my slit,” you said and followed your own instructions, “Soft and gentle, like you are when you’re preaching. In the same way that you moved your delicate slender fingers over the bible,” you breathed, a little more ragged now. “You slid one of your fingers in between my folds, and looked for my clit. You found it almost instantly, and you rolled your finger over it gently, you loved my whimpers.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I imagined them while touching myself last night. Those wet little sounds you make when you–”

“Ah,” you breathed as you dug your fingers inside yourself, your walls tightening around it involuntarily. “Like this?” you asked and smiled, biting your lip before you did it again. You brought the hand on your breast downwards and leaned back a little so you could spread your legs even further. Remus’ mouth watered, he wondered how wrong would it be to taste you?

To bury his head in your legs and lick all of the wetness that coated your fingers, to be so close that the smell of you got everywhere, that he wouldn’t need the handkerchief to feel you close. You continued to touch yourself. Breathing heavily, sighting and moaning softly, he wondered what that would feel if it were directly whispered into his ear.

You were so lost in yourself for those first few minutes, so wrapped in the feeling that you hadn’t realized the lack of beautiful moans from his side.

“Remus–” you said breathily, “Why aren’t you touching yourself?”

“Yesterday at night I– I did it again… a couple of times. I’m, it’s a little painful,” he admitted shamefully, but your eyes shone with lust so intense at his words that he continued talking. “It was your little handkerchief’s fault. I was going to wash it, but I got its scent and it made me feral.”

“Aha?” you asked, as you continued to touch yourself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Shut my door and laid on my bed with it over my nose.”

You hummed contentedly, half a moan, half a hum.

“I was so hard it was ridiculous. I had barely even smelled you. I hadn’t even gone through the images of that wonderful dream of yours.”

You sighted in bliss, breath ragged as you slid your finger out of yourself and turned to him with a smile.

“I have an idea,” you said and then let out a breathy laugh.

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cherubify · 2 months

Text

PUPPY LOVE / LEON KENNEDY

3827 words

cw: puppy hybrid f!reader, masturbation, dirty talk, virginity, fingering, mentions of other characters and lore / minors dni

Leon didn't know what to do when he found you that night. He had returned from the gym when he found a little thing sitting at the steps outside his apartment complex. You were a little mutt, curled up into a trembling ball. Your fluffy tail coiled around your shaggy, dirty fur as your big puppy eyes stared up at him.

It would've been cruel to leave you to the elements, he lamented. And how cruel of a human would he be to say no when you began wagging your tail when you met his eyes?

"It's almost like you want me to take you home," he squats down at the base of the stairs. He held out his fingers and you sniffed him cautiously. When you had your fill, you lapped at the pads of his fingers with a soft yip. He stroked your droopy ears halfheartedly.

Just one night, he decided. He'd take you in, give you a shower, a meal and find your owners at first light tomorrow. If he failed to locate them, surely the local shelter would take you in, right?

So he scooped you up and brought you into his little apartment. It wasn't anything fancy, small for two but cosy enough for a single guy. He set you on the floor and you sniffed the tiles curiously. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head.

"C'mon," Leon gestured for you to follow, and you obediently padded after him into the bathroom. He placed you in the bathtub and ran a warm bath for you. It was a little scary so you tried to climb out a few times. But his firm grip prevented you from running, so you gave up and let him do as he wished.

When he finished, he rubbed you dry with a fluffy towel and a blowdryer. It was way scarier than the bath, but you dared not to escape when he furrowed his brows and stared at you pointedly. You whimpered as the stranger rubbed his hands all over your fluffy body.

Despite his rugged touch and scary frowns, he was a kind man. He even prepared a bowl of shredded meat for you. Up until now, you had been scavenging for scraps in the alleys.

"Slow down," he ordered. He squatted beside you and ran his fingers through your fur. "You're gonna throw up if you force it all down."

He was right, you did barf out your insides later. But a soft whine and well practiced sad puppy eyes did the trick to placate him.

You paced on top of a nest of towels. Leon had prepared it for you beside his bed. When you were satisfied, you curled into a ball and laid your head on your paws.

The brunette plopped onto his bed. Shirtless, he was enveloped by the soft glow of moonlight. Leon gazed tiredly at the puppy across him. He didn't expect this much work for a tiny mutt like you.

"It's just for tonight, so don't get too comfortable here. You hear me?" he warned as he fell back onto his mattress.

You yipped once. He closed his eyes, ready to let sleep take him.

On the brink of consciousness, he heard the sheets rustle. With one eye open, he saw you clamber up the bed clumsily, tiny paws gripping the sheets. You crawled over and settled beside him. You rested your head sweetly, droopy ears pressed against your head. Almost as if you were asking to sleep next to him.

Too tired to react, he closed his eyes. Then day came and he began his search.

…

Somehow, an entire month passed and there were still no signs of your owners. He even painstakingly left posters in the neighbourhood with a printed photo of you and his house number. However, nobody contacted him. Other than that one grandma that attempted to hook him up with her daughter. But he digressed.

His plan to drop you off at a shelter also backfired. When he walked into the building, the lady at the desk recoiled the moment she laid eyes on you. You even bore your teeth at her, which you never did. According to her, the 'mongrel' in his hands had caused a hell load of trouble during its stay. A fire broke out in the shelter a while back, and you had escaped during the chaos.

When he enquired if anyone else would be willing to take you in, you began to put up a fight and caused quite the scene in the shelter. So he begrudgingly left with you and bite marks punctured in his sweater. He reprimanded you about it later at home.

"You're such a pain," he lamented as he scooped pellets into your bowl. It was no gourmet meal, but it was delicious enough to elicit a delighted yip.

You learnt that this man was called Leon Scott Kennedy. He was a government agent, whatever that meant. He was smart, handsome and a huge tease. He would slap your sides playfully to disturb you, even though he knew you would jump around unhappily after. Despite his mischievous behaviour and quips, he treated you kindly and patiently. You liked that about him. He was much kinder than the people you encountered on the streets.

But sometimes, you could feel a deep sadness emanating from him. At times, he would wake up in cold sweat. He never spoke about it– but he would stand at the balcony, staring at the night sky with a distant look in his tired, blue eyes. You hated feeling helpless, you yearned to comfort him. But all you could do was sit by him patiently, hoping your feelings could reach him.

As you lost yourself to your thoughts, the agent sat at the dining table, a can of beer in his hand. He rested his chin on his palm, swirling his drink mindlessly. Usually he would spend his evenings at the gym and occasionally in a bar. But now with you by his side, he made the conscious effort to return home earlier.

He watched from the corner of his eyes. You were hunched over your food bowl, gobbling your dinner. For such a small thing, you sure had a voracious appetite. You always ate like you were still a starved pup.

"Slow down," he chuckled. He leaned forward, fingers extended to you. You eagerly approached, wagging tail and all. He petted you with a smirk, "The food's not going anywhere, y'know?"

You lapped at his fingers playfully. Then you resumed wolfing down your pellets. The brunette wiped the slobber off his fingers on his sweatpants.

At this rate, you were his full fledged pet dog. A liability, but a cute one. Not so cute when you tried to bite him when he pissed you off. Which rarely happened, but still. He rubbed his temples together, wrinkles deeply etched in his forehead.

But there was no way he could keep you in the long run, especially when there was no guarantee if he would always make it back home.

"What am I gonna do with you?" he sighed.

The stress radiating from your owner perked you up. You peered up from your bowl for the second time.

You tilted your head. A moment of silence passed and your jaw twitched, "Do... do?"

His blue eyes snapped to you and you wagged your tail curiously. His fingers slipped and his beer splashed onto the table.

"I have bad news for you. And good news too," a man's voice filled the house. Leon left the house phone on speaker and you paced around nervously.

"Let's hear it, Chris. Bad news first," he said.

"We've tracked the origin of your dog. Turns out Umbrella's been busier than we thought," Chris lowered his voice. "She was a test subject, along with other mutts, likely her litter. It was a similar project to Project Cerberus, but they produced inferior results. They were dumped in the Arklay Mountains. It’s likely they were torn to shreds by the pack there."

Leon glanced at you warily; your eyes dropped as he maintained eye contact, "So she's dangerous?”

To think that a B.O.W had been sleeping next to him for the past month. How careless he had been.

Chris hummed, "Not exactly. The T-virus in her is dead. Here’s the good news: the guys from the labs said she carries antibodies for the strain she was infected with. The higher-ups are eager to extract her blood for studies."

"Okay, but how does that explain her aboty to talk?" Leon plopped down on the couch. You padded over and sat at his feet. "Did the virus mutate and turn her into some- some hybrid creature?"

"Beats me. But that's all I know. If I find out more, I’ll let you know," the man said before ending the call. The line beeped and Leon turned off speaker mode.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. You peered at him with your innocent puppy eyes. You had not spoken much since that night. But there was a newfound intelligence apparent in your eyes. picked you up and set you onto his lap.

"So you were abandoned by those bastards. Never would have guessed. Small world," he commented.

"Small... world," you mimicked. You placed your paws onto his chest and lapped at his face. His stubble was rough against your tongue, but you licked him anyway. A ghost of a smile settled on his face as he petted you. His face lit up suddenly.

“Oh! You’ve been nameless this whole time. I think it’s time I give you one. What do you think of… (name)?"

You shook your head, ears swaying side to side. He raised his brows, "Then, how about... Ada?"

You growled and barked, legs scrambling against him. He held you back and chuckled, "Just kidding. How about... (y/n)?"

He stroked your fur. You leaned against him and indulged in the warmth in his pets.

"I'm guessing you like it. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He smiled, and you thumped your tail on his lap.

After that call, US-STRATCOM tasked Leon with babysitting you. The job was quite simple: ensure the special collar you wore stayed on at all times. It would track any fluctuations in your physical and mental state. An application on a tracking device would notify him of any changes too. Lastly, he would report to the research team on any developmental changes, such as improved speech, et cetera. From time to time, you would visit for blood samples too.

Thus, Leon was withheld from special operations temporarily.

…

Almost three months have passed since he found you, and about a month since he was tasked with your care. When he found you, you were mostly skin and bones. Now you had enough chub for him to pinch and tease. Much to your displeasure, eliciting distressed whines and playful bites from you. You had grown on him in such a short period of time. And him, to you.

Whenever he left and returned for work, you would sit at the door and bark greetings with a swishing tail. When he plopped down onto the couch, you would sprawl yourself on his thighs, nestling comfortably like he was your bed.

Leon was amused. He had never gotten a thigh pillow before but this dog somehow beat him to it. Unbelievable.

There were nights– or days– where he would return after meeting women. And those days were the least pleasant for you. You would growl brokenly with little fangs displayed, tail pinned between your legs.

To placate you, Leon would sacrifice his clothes and let you cover his face with dog slobber. You would spend the rest of the day marking him with your scent, burying yourself in every nook and cranny of his body. Only when you were appeased would you return to your sweet, easygoing self.

"You're such a needy pup," he exhaled sleepily. You were still busy rubbing your little body against his side even in the middle of the night. He placed a heavy hand atop your head. "Sleep."

You whined and relented, resting your head on his side. Big innocent eyes blinked at him as he stroked your head.

It should be annoying– the way you clung to him like super glue. But somehow he couldn't really be mad. Who could be with such a good girl? He stroked your ears fondly, he found it cute that you were this clingy with him, your owner.

But besides that, there’s been something kind of strange happening lately. Sometimes, Leon would find his bed sheets dampened with a strange liquid. It was sweet, with hints of arousal he was familiar with that women carried. But he never brought women home. And his sweet pup was not getting her cheeks clapped either. So where did this strange liquid originate from?

Whenever he asked you, you would run off to occupy yourself with toys. So he figured maybe you've been having wet dreams. If dogs could have them.

It was later than usual when your owner returned. When he called for you, silence greeted him back. Strange, you were usually at his beck and call. He searched his bag for his tracker and checked the tiny green screen. A red dot flashed incessantly on the screen, signaling a change in your physical or neurological state. He lowered his bags and whipped out his pistol. Had the T-virus returned and taken over you?

He scanned the halls carefully before arriving at the entrance of his bedroom. He listened intently. Soft, unsteady sounds leaked into the hallway. It sounded like whimpers. Had (y/n) finally transformed into a monster?

His hand rested on the doorknob. Then he turned it and slowly entered the room. He was attacked by the heavy scent of pheromones. It clung heavily in the air, and he shielded his nose with his arm as he scanned his surroundings. His gun leveled on his bed, where you lay.

Your legs hung in the air, back arched as your hand pressed against your soft, glistening mound. The moonlight filtering through the balcony curtains cast a silver glow onto the stranger. Your fingers drove into your insides greedily in a steady yet clumsy pace. The hand clamped over your mouth did little to mask your whimpers and sighs. He lowered his gun slowly.

"Leon..." Your sweet voice filled the air. You panted softly, toes curling as you chanted his name. That's when he noticed your tail, the same shade of fur as his puppy hybrid. And the special collar and the floppy ears atop your head were telltale signs. It seemed like you had transformed– albeit into something else. He pocketed his gun and stood at the doorway. You were too deep in your haze to notice him, despite the heavy gaze from your sole audience.

You were inexperienced– it was apparent in your sloppy movements. His sweet pup didn't know how to make herself feel good, huh? Maybe he could help with that– wait, what would you think if you knew these sick thoughts?

He licked his lips. It should disgust him. You were his lovely pet. So why was he getting excited instead?

A long winded sigh snapped him out of his daze. Toes clenched, you unfurled and clenched them rhythmically as you sped up. A cry escaped you as your stomach fluttered. You couldn’t cum, you’ve been trying for hours.

With a heavy sigh, you lowered your legs and started to sit up when your eyes met his. You stopped in your tracks and he lifted a brow.

"I think you forgot to ask if I enjoyed the show," he teased. Your blood ran cold. How long had your owner been watching you...?

"T-This isn't what you think it is," you stuttered, grabbing the sheets to hide your body. You squeezed your shoulders together fearfully, appearing smaller.

"Looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Leon sat beside you, his weight on the mattress dipped you towards him. He set his gun and tracker onto the bedside table. You turned away from him, ears pinned to your head.

"I don't know what you're t-talking about."

"Playing dumb? C'mon, you were begging for me." He chuckled darkly, and you hid your face in the sheets in your hands. You tried to leave, but he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap.

"How 'bout your owner shows you how to feel real good?"

. . .

Your legs trembled as he spread them further with his. Sitting on his lap, he had an arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you securely against him. The hard-on pressing against your back sent shivers down your spine. He teased your slick slit as he dragged his thumb up and down, up and down in a slow motion.

"How much?" He demanded, his voice low and dark. You let out a whimper when he pressed against your clit, sending a jolt down your core. "How far have you gone?"

"Leon," you begged softly, "Please stop. You're scaring me."

"Don't you think it's too late to stop?" His chest rumbled with laughter, and you clenched embarrassingly. "Besides, who was the one moaning my name like a little whore? C'mon, tell me."

You shook your head, but you gasped when he spanked your pussy. The bundle of nerves twitched as you trembled. You leaned forward slightly, panting as you clutched his arm weakly. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs but he forced them open again.

"If you try that one more time I'm gonna punish you," he whispered into your ear. He snaked his warm tongue along the shell of your ear and you let out a muted moan. As he teased your ear, a digit gingerly slid into your weeping cunt.

"N-No... Leon- o-oh..." you tried to struggle but your eyes rolled back from the simple ministration. You sighed sweetly as you leaned into him. A smirk settled on his face. He knew you were bullshitting. Thank god for your honest pussy.

"Stop trying to put up a fight," the brunette muttered as he stroked your walls experimentally. You bit your lip and clung to his forearm. "Just feel it."

Leon kissed the back of your head as he slid another digit in. He was knuckles deep within you when you relaxed against him. Your chest heaved with soft pants as you gazed down at where you were connected. Such a good girl, you stopped putting up a fight when you finally got what you wanted. He was sure to reward you for your good behaviour.

He began to move, eliciting whispery moans and whines from your soft lips. The sound of your wetness and his thrusting filled the room. Any shred of embarrassment had dissipated with each loving stroke of his fingers. Your brain was turning into mushy matter. You could barely hold a coherent thought. It felt so different from when you did it, and so, so much better. If only you had gotten his help from the start, then you could've felt this good all along.

You clutched him weakly, body trembling as you panted harder with each thrust. The funny feeling in your belly was growing, pulsating like a burning star. You pushed against him, eyes glassy. "Owner- Leon-'' you babbled, "Stop stop stop-"

He kissed the top of your head tenderly, "I'm here. Just be a good girl and feel it all."

He coaxed you through your orgasm as you shook and trembled like a leaf in the wind. When you finally finished, he withdrew his fingers from you with a soft squelch. You laid limply in him, thighs twitching as stars twinkled in your blurry vision.

His slick fingers rested against your plush lips. You willingly open up and lap at his digits.The taste of your arousal was sweet but slightly bitter, a strange combination, you sleepily wondered as you swirled your tongue around his appendages.

With a soft pop, you freed his fingers and collapsed against his chest entirely. You tried to match your breathing with his, and he stroked your hair and side lovingly. A few moments passed when he finally spoke up.

"Since when did you start transforming? If that's the right word." His voice was soft, like he genuinely wanted to know.

You peered up at him meekly. Your volume fell with each word, "For a few weeks. I didn't know how to tell you. Was scared that you'd abandon me. And you won't be my owner anymore."

"You don’t have to worry about that." He frowned. He placed a fleeting kiss on your lips, "I’m not gonna abandon you. Not now, or ever."

You clung to him, placing your head over his heart. It drummed in the confines of his chest, like an unwilling prisoner. You curled up against him as he looped an arm around your smaller form.

"So those fluids were from you all along?"

You nestled into him. You hummed in agreement, and he looked up at the ceiling.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he laughed. “You could’ve told me sooner. Then I could’ve helped.”

"... I was jealous," you mumbled to him.

"Huh? Did you say something?"

You pouted and buried your face in his chest. Your tail thumped heavily on the bed and he raised a brow questioningly.

. . .

"Where did you get that?" He peered up from his newspaper. The agent sat on the couch, staring at the girl across from him.

You wore an oversized tee that looked like it would fall off your shoulder at any second. It hung above your knees. And when you twirled, he caught sight of your polka dotted panties. He slowly set down his newspaper.

You twirled for him again. "I look super cute, don't I? I found it in your closet."

"Knew it. It looks good," he gestured for you to come, and you hopped towards him. You took a seat on his lap, your legs placed over his. He stroked your hair gently and kissed your nose. "Though I think you'd be even cuter without it."

"Huh? Wait-" you tried to escape but he caught your wrists. He pulled your shirt over your head and swiftly repositioned you so that you laid on the couch whilst he knelt between your legs.

The brunette hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, maintaining eye contact as he pried your thighs open. He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh and he hooked your underwear with his fingers. As he pressed more kisses to your thighs, he he slowly pulled down your panties. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"How do you want it today?" He muttered against your skin.

"Anything if it makes owner happy," you blushed as you curled your toes expectantly.

He grinned.

"Good pup.”

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

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alessiasfreckles · 2 months

Text

amnesia - part 5 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader, ona batlle x alexia putellas)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

warnings: none

a/n: this is my favourite chapter so far!! twice as long as the other parts, hope y'all enjoy (also thank you to @codiemarin for plot help!!)

---------

You steeled yourself, leaning on your crutches, and rang the doorbell. Ona had suggested that she come to your place, so that you wouldn’t have to move too much, but you felt cooped up and restless, so you asked if you could meet at hers. Besides, you figured it probably made sense to go somewhere that you seemed to have spent a lot of time before the accident - even if you were apprehensive about seeing Ona.

When she opened the door, you were immediately struck by how exhausted she looked. As beautiful as ever, of course, but there were dark bags under her eyes, and they looked puffy, like she’d been crying.

“Hi!” she said, trying to keep her voice upbeat. “Was your journey okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Ale drove me,” you gestured to the car, where Alexia had been waiting to make sure you got inside okay. You knew that if you asked, she would have come inside with you, but you felt like this should be between you and Ona.

“Oh, good,” Ona waved to Alexia, who waved back before driving off. “You want to come inside?”

Nodding, you followed her through the door of her apartment building. The ride in the elevator was quiet, but as the bell dinged and you reached Ona’s floor, a memory appeared in your mind, of you and Ona. You were furiously making out in the elevator, hands desperately trying to touch anywhere they could on each other’s bodies, only breaking apart when the doors opened so that the brunette could take your hand and drag you into her apartment.

The mental image made you blush, and you felt that same urge to kiss Ona that you had in your apartment, just a couple days ago. You pushed it down, trying your best to ignore it, curious to see what her place looked like.

“Oh,” you said, walking into her apartment.

So, this was what home felt like. There was no other way to describe it. It was like every atom in your body heaved a deep sigh of relief, and you felt instantly as peace.

“Hm?” she gave you a questioning look, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, it- it just feels like home,” you explained.

As you followed Ona into her living room, your knees almost buckled underneath you as you were hit by waves and waves of memories. Countless nights spent cuddled up on the sofa, watching TV, playing games. Your arms wrapped around Ona’s waist as she cooked, placing soft kisses against the nape of her neck. Dancing to music in the kitchen, loudly singing along, bursting into giggles.

Your first kiss happened here. On the sofa, you’d been talking, flirting, drinking a little, when you leant over and kissed her.

“Are you okay? Here, sit down,” Ona asked, a concerned look on her face. She guided you to the sofa, one hand on your arm and the other on the small of your back, and you sat down with a soft thump. “Let me get you some water.”

Placing the glass on the table, she carefully sat down next to you. She watched your eyes rake over every inch of the apartment, waiting to see any signs of recognition.

“Do you remember anything new?”

“Yeah, I remember- so much,” you said, your voice thick. The onslaught of memories was making you choke up, your emotions soaking them up like a sponge. “I remember our first kiss, I remember dancing with you, I remember telling you I love you, I remember you trying to teach me how to cook your grandma’s recipe, I remember so many things.”

Ona’s eyes were wide and brimming with tears. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, she had tried to prepare herself for you not to remember anything new, for you not to remember any of your relationship. She had been so focused on not letting herself even imagine the possibility of you remembering anything. And yet, here you were.

“You- you do?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You nodded, and wordlessly, Ona hugged you tightly, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. You could feel her body shaking, and when you wrapped your own arms around her, pulling her closer against you, it was like a wall in your mind was broken down. Feelings of love, comfort, and relief flooded through your body, and as she felt you pulling her closer, Ona’s body sagged against yours.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and even though you couldn’t see her face, you knew she was crying. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should have lied to you. I’m so sorry, I was so scared, but I shouldn’t have lied.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, rubbing her back with one hand. “It’s okay.”

And it was. You were still upset about the lying, but you understood why she did it. More importantly, you knew that she loved you, and that you loved her. You had never been more sure of anything in your life - even without your memories, even if you still didn’t fully know who you were, you knew that you loved Ona, and nothing would change that.

“No more lying, I promise. No more secrets,” Ona said as she pulled back from the hug, wiping her damp eyes.

“That sounds good to me,” you smiled. Except… “There’s something I should tell you. Ale said, um, that she likes me. Romantically, I mean. She didn’t want to lie to me. But we said that everything will stay the same. I just thought you should know, since we’re being honest, and all.”

“Oh,” the brunette frowned. Her stomach was in knots, but she wasn’t sure why. She could recognise the feeling of jealousy, a voice in the back of her mind screaming ‘Mine!’, and surely it was you the voice meant. That would make sense. She was jealous that Alexia liked you, because you were hers, not Alexia’s. Right?

“Is that okay?” you asked gently, smoothing out the line between her eyebrows with your thumb. You weren’t sure why, it just felt like the right thing to do.

She smiled at you, leaning into your touch. “Yes. You always used to do that, you know? When I was worried, or upset. I wouldn’t even know I was frowning sometimes until you did that.”

“Really?”

“Mh-hm. You’re a very touchy person - you always want to have your hands on me, or be touching,” Ona said, nodding down to where your leg was pressed flush against hers, your other hand on her knee.

“Oh, sorry,” you quickly moved your hand, cheeks burning, but she caught it and put it back.

“No, I like it.”

You spent the next few hours talking about everything and anything, your relationship, your friendship, training. When your phone rang it made you jump, pulling you out of the conversation with a jolt.

“Oh, it’s Ale,” you said, looking down at your phone. “I told her I would message her when we were down so she could pick me up. I didn’t realise so much time had gone by!”

Ona’s face hardened slightly at the mention of the blonde, just for a second, before relaxing again. She watched you talk on the phone, telling Alexia you’d be right down before hanging up.

“I’ll walk you down,” she said, helping you up off the sofa. As the two of you walked, her hand was comfortably on your waist, like it belonged there. In the elevator, you thought about what you’d remembered on the way up, and blushed again.

“Will you kiss me?” you asked. “It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I just-”

“No, I want to!” Ona quickly interrupted you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, and she smiled with relief before leaning in. Her lips were soft against yours, and the kiss was over before it had even started, Ona worried about pushing you too far. You couldn’t help but smile as she pulled away, your body finally feeling somewhat at peace.

As the two of you walked to the front door, you could see Alexia waiting in her car outside. She waved to you, and as you started to leave, Ona grabbed your arm.

“Wait,” she said, and pulled you into another kiss. This one was harsher than the first one, more desperate, but over just as soon. “Okay, now you can go.”

“I take it the two of you made up?” Alexia asked dryly as she helped you into the car.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you blushed, realising she’d seen the whole thing. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “I dealt with it before and I can deal with it now. I’m a big girl, it is okay.”

You nodded, but still felt bad. Something about your guilty conscience was off, though. It didn’t seem like it was just because Alexia had seen you and Ona, it felt like there was more to it than that.

When Ona arrived at training the next day, she was riled up. She had spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about what you’d told her about Alexia’s feelings, and had decided she was going to confront the captain. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure what she was confronting her about - it wasn’t like she could ban Alexia from having feelings for you, but she figured that she could decide exactly what to say once she was there.

The door to the changing room flung open, and Alexia looked up in surprise. She was always at the training grounds early, and it would be at least another 30 minutes before her teammates started to arrive. Ona stormed into the room, the door closing with a loud bang behind her.

“We need to talk,” she said, folding her arms and looking down at the captain, who was sat on the bench.

“Okay,” Alexia said. “Go ahead.”

“You have feelings for Y/N?”

Alexia nodded calmly. She thought it might be about that. “She told you?”

“Si,” Ona nodded curtly. “Why did you never tell me? How long have you had feelings?”

The blonde shrugged. “Why would I tell you? I didn’t want to get in the way. It started after she came here, I suppose.”

“Why? Why her?”

“What do you mean, why her? For the same reasons you love her, most likely.”

“No, but,” Ona huffed impatiently. “I just-”

“What is this really about?” Alexia asked, standing up. Ona suddenly felt very small as the captain stood, looking down at her.

“This is about your feelings!” Ona said, trying to stand her ground.

“But my feelings should not be a problem for you?” the blonde countered, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, they are, okay? They’re a problem because it’s making things confusing!”

“Oh? What things are my feelings making confusing?”

“Well, I- You-,” Ona stammered.

“Maybe it’s you whose feelings are confused,” Alexia said, her tone light, almost teasing, and Ona blushed.

“What? No, my feelings aren’t confused. Or, well, maybe they are, but it’s your fault, and-”

“Why are your feelings confused? Why is it my fault?”

Ona bristled, getting riled up again at the casual tone the captain was using. “It’s your fault because… because…”

“Because?”

“Because you used to feel that way about me! You used to look at me the way you look at her now, you used to look after me and take care of me and want to spend time with me!”

Ona’s mouth was open as she realised what she’d said, her eyes wide.

“Oni, I-” Alexia started to talk when the younger player interrupted her, realising that if she’d said all that she might as well keep going.

“It’s not fair! I want you to feel that way about me again!”

Alexia sighed, her heart hurting for Ona. “Oni, I do still feel that way about you. I care about you both, so, so deeply.”

“You do?” the brunette’s voice was small, her brows furrowed.

“Yes, I-”

Alexia was cut off by Ona reaching up and pulling her into a bruising kiss. She couldn’t help but wrap an arm around Ona’s waist, her other hand gently cradling her cheek. She had wanted to do this for so long.

A door opened somewhere with a bang, the sound echoing through the mostly empty training facility, and the two broke apart with a jump.

“Fuck,” Ona whispered. “What are we going to tell Y/N?”

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas fanfic #ona batlle x alexia putellas #alexia putellas x ona batlle #woso fanfic #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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leossmoonn · 6 months

Text

neighborly welcome | mike schmidt

summary - burnt cookies aren’t the only thing mike gives you

warnings / includes - reader is fem, natural time skips. lowk stalker/pervert mike, f oral, brief handjob, intercourse, after he worked at freddy’s, porn w/ plot

————

18+ below the cut

“you should get her a housewarming gift,” vanessa suggests.

mike’s body whips around from his perch at the window. “give who a housewarming gift?”

vanessa rolls her eyes and gets up off the couch. “the girl you’ve been stalking and are obviously in love with.”

he scoffs, the tips of his ears burning. “i’m not stalking, and i am definitely not in love with her.”

“fine. a crush then. still, you should get her something. welcome her to the neighborhood.”

“that’s not normal.”

“what? of course it is.”

“it’s not normal for me,” mike explains. he glances back out the window, spotting you in the same spot you were since he turned away. you’re gardening, your white tank top clinging to your body thanks to sweat. you’re wearing a visor to protect your face from the sun as well as sunglasses to shield your eyes. you bend down to pick up a pot, unknowingly giving mike a nice view down your shirt.

vanessa scoffs in disbelief. “you’re practically drooling.”

“what, i’m not,” mike denies. he brings his hand to his lips, wiping the corners and feeling a small amount of saliva that’s collected. he blushes and looks down at the floor, knowing he’s stared at you enough today.

“you should introduce yourself before she calls the cops” vanessa quips. “you don’t want a restraining order from someone you don’t know.”

“what do you suggest i get her then?” he asks. “bake some cookies or something. i don’t know,” she shrugs.

“so helpful,” mike deadpans. vanessa chuckles and stands up from the couch. “my grandma has this killer chocolate chip cookie recipe. i’ll send it to you,”

“is this grandma from your mom or dad’s side?” he asks. she rolls her eyes, “do you want my help or not?”

“yes, yes,” he nods. “i’ll send it to you when i get home,” she says. she walks to abby’s room, knocking on her door and biding ber goodbye.

“don’t get yourself arrested, mike,” vanessa warns him as she walks out. mike glares at her, but he knows she’s right. he looks back out the window once her car leaves his driveway. now you’re sitting on your porch steps drinking some water. as you take a sip, you manage to spill some on yourself, making part of your top see-through. mike knows he should look away, but it’s almost painful to tear his eyes away. his jeans are suddenly tight and he looks away in shame. he knows what he needs to do.

“can i have one?” abby’s eyes light up as she sees the cookies on the stove.

“only one,” mike says. “two?” abby changes her mind. mike sighs and nods, handing her two cookies. she grimaces at them, but still takes them. “did you make these?”

“yeah,” mike nods. “you should ask vanessa to make them next time. she’s an expert!” abby grins. she takes a big bite of one, slowly chewing and swallowing. “these aren’t terrible.”

mike’s eyes light up. when they first came out of the oven, he thought they were inedible.

“are you going to give these to the girl next door?” she asks. “i was thinking about it,” mike admits.

“get her something else to make up for the cookies,” abby says. she takes another bite, turning around and walking back to her room.

he takes her advice and goes back to the store. he picks out a bouquet of flowers that matched one of the types on your lawn. he takes a shower and tries on every outfit in his closet, which are all clones of each other. he goes out of his room, being met by abby at the table.

“you look like a robber,” she states. mike looks down at his outfit and back at her. “i do not.”

“you should buy more bright colors! like yellow!” abby grins. “i am not buying yellow,” mike shakes his head. she shrugs, “she’s going to think you’ll kidnap her with the cookies.”

“isn’t josie’s mom supposed to pick you up soon?” mike asks. as he said so, a minivan pulls up in his driveway. “call me if you need anything and behave!” mike reminds her as she rushes out the door. he watches as she gets into the van, making sure it’s josie’s mom who’s picking her up. once the car leaves, you come into view.

you’re chatting with one of the neighbors down the street. mike squints and looks closer, seeing a container of some type of food in your hands. he groans and rubs his hands down his face, his skin dragging along. of course everyone and their mother wanted to come and talk to you. you were the only thing interesting happening in this neighborhood since mike and abby moved in.

but he has to see you, to meet you.

he waits a little while, not wanting to overwhelm you. after an hour of waiting, he can’t sit still anymore. he grabs the container of cookies and flowers and makes his way towards your house.

his hand shakes as he presses your doorbell. he can hear the jingle from inside the house. he glances through your window, seeing boxes still sitting out, some opened and still sealed. he spots you walking towards the door and he steps a quick step back, his heart beginning to race.

you open the door, cool air hitting mike’s face. he can’t help but gawk at you. you’re much more beautiful up close.

you stand there, leaning against your doorframe and wait for him to speak first. he gulps, feeling his throat tightening and becoming dry. he’s parched all the sudden.

“hi, i’m mike,” he manages to say. you smile sweetly at him. “hi, mike.” you say his name slowly, making the ‘k’ sharp. he lets out a breath in response, looking down and remembering why he’s really here

“these are, uh, for you. to welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding out the gifts. he’s never felt more out of place in his life. he feels stupid and uncomfortable, telling himself that this was a terrible idea and he should’ve left you alone. but as you take his gifts, you invite him inside. the offer makes his eyes go wide and jaw almost drop.

“i… are you sure? i wouldn’t want to intrude.” he says this, but he would be lying if he denied having any thoughts about going into your house and spending time getting to know you.

“yeah, i’m sure. you can help me eat some of the desserts other neighbors have given me.” you turn around and leave the door open. mike doesn’t know if his imagination, but your hips sway almost intentionally. you take slow strides, the sides of your body curving in. mike’s jeans get tight once again and he’s thankfully he’s wearing a t-shirt that can cover the tent forming.

his head perks up as you turn to face him, setting his cookies on the counter and putting his flowers in a vase. he’s astounded by how many other containers of sweets you have sitting around.

“wow. you’re popular,” mike chuckles. you sigh and nod, “unfortunately. don’t get me wrong, i appreciate knowing my new neighbors like me, but there’s no way i can finish all of these before they go bad. well, maybe i could, but i live alone and would rather not have pie and brownies for every meal.”

“i could take some home if that would help,” mike offers. “sure,” you say. “i assume they’ll be for your daughter?”

mike shakes his head quickly, wanting to erase any thought of him being with someone from your head. “no, no. i bet you’re referring to abby. she’s my little sister.”

“ah,” you say. he might be mistaken, but you look relieved. “she looks like a sweet kid.”

“she is,” mike nods. he looks around your house, seeing you’ve already started to decorate. his eyes catch a photo of you with a man and a little boy at a carnival. his heart sinks as he looks closer. the man’s arm is around you and you both are holding the child’s hand.

“that’s my brother and his son,” you say. you stand next mike, crossing your arms as you admire the picture. “that was my nephew’s sixth birthday. i won him a toy elephant.”

mike smiles a little. “i take it that picture was taken before you won him the toy?”

“yeah, but trust me, i did. and it was huge. he could barely carry it.”

“he’s a cute kid.”

“yeah, he got all the good genes from my side of the family.”

mike’s head turns to you and he stares at you again. you aren’t wrong. you’re gorgeous. you’re charming and funny, and your smile’s infectious. mike feels unworthy to be in your vicinity.

“do you like banana bread?” you bring him out of his daze. there’s a coy smile on your lips, like you know something about him. hear creeps up his neck and he makes a point to look away from you. “y-yeah, i do.”

you walk back to your kitchen counter, grabbing a couple plates and putting a slice on each. you walk to your living room and sit on the loveseat. you pat the space next to you for mike to join. it takes everything in him not to run over. he takes a small bite of the baked good after you do, lowly moaning at the taste.

“these are amazing. so moist and still warm,” he comments.

“the couple down the street brought these to me. laura and um… peter, i think.”

“oh, yeah. they’re nice. they bought abby a barbie when we first moved in,” mike recounts.

“wow, aren’t you two special,” you tease. mike laughs softly. “that’s the only gift we’ve received, but i didn’t care. and abby was just happy that she got a new doll.”

“well, now abby will have some treats to enjoy over the next few days,” you say.

“it’ll probably be gone in a day,” mike chuckles. “as long as they’re eaten,” you shrug.

a comfortable silence settles over you two as you finish the food.

“thank you for inviting me inside. you didn’t have to,” mike says.

“it’s no problem. thanks for being willing to take some of my treats home.”

“always happy to help,” mike remarks. he stands up, beginning to walk towards the door, but you stop him. you put your plate down on the couch ledge, your hand gently wrapping around mike’s wrist. your hand is warm and soft, making him feel all fuzzy. he turns to you, raising a brow in question. you take a shaky deep breath in, your mind racing with all the words you want to say.

“i want you to know, mike, i didn’t invite you in just so you could eat some banana bread.”

his mind is spinning. he’s confused, but also excited. “w-what do you mean?”

“i noticed you’ve been watching me.”

his heart pounds against his ribcage. sweat starts to form near his hairline. “i… i can explain.”

“there’s no need to because i’ve been watching you, too,” you admit. you take a step closer to him, or maybe he leans forward. he can’t tell who makes what moves. all he can focus on is his heartbeat that’s thumping in his ears and dark look in your eyes. he catches the way your eyes flicker down to his parted lips.

you lean forward, your lips hovering over his ear. he takes a deep breath in, the smell of shea butter and laundry detergent. your warm breath tickles his skin, making all the hairs on his body stand up.

“you should really keep your curtains closed when walking around with a towel on.”

his heart stops and he forgets how to breath. your fingertips skimming along his forearm brings him back to reality. his body feels like it’s on fire. he’s thought about being in this situation with you so many times. wondering how to make it come to life. he’s dreamed about you coming over to watch abby and that’s how it starts, or him helping you move something into your house and things escalate from there. he always thought that he would have to be the one to initiate something. honestly, he was so nervous, always thinking of how to make you like him. but now that you’re standing here, so close to him he could just lean in and close the gap between you two, he feels less foolish and ashamed of his thoughts about you.

you press a hand against his chest, feeling the soft tissue under his black shirt. you step further into him, but not so much to where you’re against him. mike can almost feel your weight and he wants it to be real. he needs to feel you pressed up against his lower half. he needs to feel your skin on his. he needs to know what it feels like to kiss you, hold you, fuck you.

“i know how you think of me, mike.” you say his name lowly. “i know you dream about me. i know you look forward to admiring me from your window.”

he’s so painfully hard. it physically hurts the way his dick is trapped inside his pants. he can feel a wet spot already forming, his pre-cum bleeding into his underwear.

“i think about you while i’m in the shower. i think about your big hands on my body. i wonder how it would feel with be pressed up against the wall, your cock inside of me. fuck,” you gasp into his ear. “i’m already so wet just thinking about you.”

mike grabs you by the hips, your body colliding with his. mike groans just at the feeling of your lips against his. he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. it’s so much more amazing than he could’ve ever imagined.

you take him by the shirt, keeping your lips onto his. your kisses become impossibly more messy as you both walk up the stairs. mike’s kisses are wet and desperate. his tongue slides against yours. your teeth clash with his as you push your body into him in attempt to get closer.

you leave his lips for a moment to open your bedroom door. “sorry, i still have to unpack some things,” you say, kicking some boxes out of the way.

“maybe i can help after,” mike offers. you give him a teasing smile. “after what, exactly?”

“after this.” he grabs you again, sliding a hand under your shirt. his hands are warm against your already hot skin. you sit down on your bed as his hand continues to scale your body, feeling over the underwire of your bra. he can feel your heart pound against your ribcage as his hand ghosts across your skin. you shiver in response. his touch is so gentle, so light. he wants to take his time with you, not believing he’s finally with you. but he also wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you so hard you can feel when you wake up tomorrow.

you scoot back onto the bed and he follows, his lips detaching from yours and starting to wander. you moan softly as presses sloppy kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. he begins to softly suck multiple spots, listening for which one gets the most rise out of you. there’s a spot just under your ear, close to the nape of your neck that has you breathing harder. you feel wetness pool on your underwear and you squeeze your thighs together. between his hand teasing your nipple and his teeth scraping against your skin, you’re tempted to shove his other hand down your pants.

he seems to hear your thoughts, taking his hand out of your shirt. he takes ahold of the collar of your shirt, ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere. you watch as his bicep flexes as he pulls on the material. you’re embarrassingly turned on by this.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he promises. you hum in response, shrugging the shirt off. you unhook your bra, flinging it behind mike. he takes his shirt off and undoes the buckle on his belt. you take the liberty in taking all your clothes off. mike pauses as he’s unzipping his jeans, looking down at your naked body. you quite literally take his breath away. your glistening folds is what catches his eyes and his mouth starts to salivate. he needs to taste you. he need you to come on his mouth.

“better than you imagined?” you ask. his eyes flicker back up to yours and you watch his pupil swallow his iris. “so much better.” he spreads your legs apart harshly, the sheets causing a burning sensation on your skin. he spreads your pussy with his fingers, burying his face into your thighs. his tongue first enters you, collecting your juices with quick swirls. he trails up to your clit where he attaches his lips to. he can feel you throb against his mouth.

“oh, fuck.” you throw your head back and your eyes roll. his fingers enter you and he can’t help but groan at how wet you are. you grip his hair and your thighs clamp over his ears and you begin to buck your hips up.

his fingers pump inside of you, making your legs shake. he sucks your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, his tongue circling every couple of seconds. your legs are squeezing his head so hard, you’re afraid you might burst it open. but he plants a hand on your thigh, his fingertips digging into your skin as he keeps your leg there. your moans become erratic. your chest is heaving up and down, your eyes screwed shut as you focus on the immense pleasure flowing through your body. your pussy gushes around his fingers, the sound turning you on even more.

mike starts to moan into your skin as if he can feel how amazing it is. the scruff of his facial hair prickles your skin as he begins to move his head, burying himself flush against your skin.

“mike,” you whimper, feeling close. you can’t help but shout out his name, your fingers pulling on the back of his head. your thighs tighten once more then loosen as you come. he doesn’t stop until you push his head away.

you look down at him. his lips and chin are shining with your juices. his hair is all disheveled and his face is all flushed.

“tired?” you tease. he shakes his head, taking off his pants and underwear. “i could do this all day.” at first you think he’s just joking. you’ve had men say that to you before, but from the way mike is looking at you, you’re confident he actually means it.

you sit up on your knees, taking him by the neck and kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips and on his tongue. it makes you moan in his mouth. his hands find your waist and he pulls you into him, groaning just at how your skin feels on his. his fingers move across your back, feeling every inch of you. his hands land on your ass, playfully squeezing and earning a small gasp from you. one of his hands settle on your waist, slowly leaning you back. you fall on the bed, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

“do you, uh, have any condoms?” he asks. “i’m on birth control,” you say.

he’s shocked, to say the least. he would’ve worn a condom without a second thought, but man, he was feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

he moves down to kiss you again. he can’t get enough of the way they fit so perfectly with his, how in-sync you are with him. he wants to get accustomed to making you come with his mouth, to feel your legs shake around him. he can’t wait to know what it’s like to be inside of you.

he has one hand by your head to keep him stable. his other hand hooks under your thigh, pulling you down closer to him. without a second thought, he slowly pushes into you. the moan you elicit could’ve made him come right then and there if he didn’t have any self control. his girth stretches you out as he pushes deeper.

your walls hug him like they’ve been yearning for him. once he bottoms out, he pulls back out only to slam into you. your hands wrap around his shoulders as he falls into a rhythm. your eyes screw shut as he hits that spot. your little gasps and moans spur him on. he takes a look down, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt.

“fuck,” he mumbles. he looks back up to your face. your chin is titled up and he can see your eyes roll to the back of your head. your lips are swollen and parted, his name tumbling out of your mouth. he could just fall in with you.

“mike,” you say, a hint of desperation in your voice. your nails dig into his shoulders and he knows you’re close. he lets his mind flow free with you in it. he doesn’t even have to focus that hard. your hips push up against his, the angle causing him to go slightly deeper. you both mumble a string a curses as you come. he pants your name as you feel him fill you with hot spurts, quiet whimpers sounding from his throat.

all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. you close your eyes for a moment and try to catch your breath. you open them back up once you feel him pull out, his cum oozing down your thigh. you watch as he puts back on his briefs, walking into your bathroom and finding a washcloth.

you can’t help but grin from ear-to-ear at his sweet actions. you let him clean you up, his thumb rubbing circling long your hip. you tug back on your underwear and grab a t-shirt and shorts from your dresser. you walk him downstairs, grabbing a few containers of sweets and handing them to him.

“i’ll, uh, talk to you soon?” mike asks. you stifle a giggle at how shy he suddenly has become. “of course,” you nod. you open the door for him, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

the next day, mike swears what happened with you was a dream. he just can’t wrap his head around the fact that he was inside your house and you let him come inside of you. but as he grabs his mail and sees an envelope from you, he’s assured that it was real.

he opens the envelope as he walks up his driveway, choking on air as he sees a polaroid of you in black lingerie. he takes it out, holding it up close to his face to make sure he’s not imagining things. he flips it on the back, seeing a message from you.

take me out on a date and maybe you’ll get to take that off of me xx

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt smut

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darlingofvalyria · 9 months

Text

❝Uncle Aegon said you threatened muña— threatened!❞

[ Aegon amusingly reveals to your children how his brother actually met you. ]

[ 2,272 ] | aemond targaryen x dr. wife!reader, modern au!

contains— no warnings, just fluff, innuendo - children (you & aems have four kids hsdhjsdhs) - aemond being a dick the first time he met you!! but within reason ig??? - you're a doctor, hon, cos you're so smart - aegon being the fun, shit-stirrer uncle help - hospital? accident but no graphic depictions.

a/n— enjoy my first fic mwa ♡ comment, like & reblog at will!

Every weekend, you spend your days with your mother in law and the rest of the family. Family— to your husband — is very important. Spending it surrounded not just you and your kids, but his mother, his siblings, and the afternoon sun casting a glow over the family home that he grew up in, through hells and heavens, was everything to Aemond Targaryen.

A few times a year, Aemond forgets his family also included his older brother.

Because when the birds are chirping, the music of the trees swaying in the breeze are calming, and you are lying on top of him on the hammock, lazily swaying about as he relished in the feel of your body on top of his, your warmth engulfing his senses, and a book he placed gently on top of your back— of course Aegon Targaryen was going to be the reason his oldest child and teenage daughter, was going to come thundering in big steps and a huff, smacking her hands to her hips and glaring at her father.

"You lied to me, daddy!" she half roared as she stopped right in front of him. Her siblings, like little ducks, followed suit as they clamoured all over the hammock, giggling at their mother who woke up from her drowsy reverie, blowing raspberries at them before turning amusedly at their daughter, then to Aemond.

"What'd you lie about, hon?" you asked with sleepy mirth in your eyes.

"Apart from Santa and the Easter Bunny incident, I have no idea." He kissed the top of your nose, then sighed, as you rose and untangled yourself from him, picking up your youngest, Daegon, only about four years old, murmurs of asking about his day and did he enjoy having tea with his grandma.

He then turned to his eldest daughters, impatience and betrayal exuding from them in spades (he often enjoyed how much his daughters resembled him; not so much in fiery-licked rage), and he sighed again before he turned to Valera, his eldest. "Can you elaborate better, little dragon? As far as I can remember, I have not lied to you since you were six."

"You said you met mom through Auntie Hel, you lied," your third child and eldest boy, Rhaegar, said with a happy little giggle as he hid from his father into the dress of your skirt, clinging to your leg. Both of you froze, you with a slow, widening smile as you realised the kids knew.

Aemond on the other hand, wasn't as amused. In fact, his entire soul froze.

"Who—"

"Uncle Aegon said you threatened muña, threatened!" your second daughter, Rhaella, shouted, eyes bugged out in disbelief. Rhaegar giggled again, no doubt remembering the chaos that ensued once their uncle told the magnificent story without his permission as his sisters lost their mind.

"I—"

Valera, often sweet and admired her father fiercely (she had three years of being an only child before Rhaella was born, and Aemond did not hold back in spoiling her), started to have tears in her eyes as his heart squeezed at the sight.

"You lied, daddy, how could you?" There was devastation in her voice that mirrored Aemond's, a panic growing deep in the pit of his stomach while you tried to muffle your snickers behind your youngest's head.

He would have glared at you if he didn't feel like he was about to lose his mind, instead employing his best 'please help me i will literally do anything you want' wide eye, before you chuckled, shaking your head as you put down Daegon who immediately plopped down on the ground, yanking grass. Rhaegar followed, trying to find bugs; a habit he formed by hanging out with Auntie Helaena.

As you keep a mindful peripheral eye on your boys, you gathered your daughters to you, they immediately latched to your torso as if they weren't thirteen and ten respectively, sniffling and glaring at their father as he was made public enemy number one.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from bursting into laughter as his face sunk deeper into despair, standing up, unable to stay seated any longer, offering them open palms of mournful looks and piercing glares at the manor behind his girls where the reason for his current predicament was no doubt giggling like an idiot.

"My loves, tell me, what did Uncle Aegon actually tell you?" you ask soothingly, running your hands through their silver hair. They looked up at you mournfully, and you bit your lip harder as you realised they even looked like their father in this moment.

"H-he said," Rhaella sniffed. "That he was angry at you. At the hospital."

"And that he yelled at you!" Valera wailed, shooting his father a withering look that had Aemond sinking into himself before he shot his own withering look at the house again, murder in his eye.

"I did not yell at your mother, Valera."

Amused, you raised an eyebrow. "And what would you call it?"

He shot you a 'you're not helping' look as he ave a disgruntled little hum. "I wouldn't it call it 'yelling', my love, merely raising my voice."

At the sort of confirmation, Val and Rhae let out a hiccuped wail. Aemond begun marching back at the house, fingers flexing with a mutter of, I'm going to rip him from spleen to spine, break every bone in his body and stomp on his—

You jolt out your arm, grasping his, laughing lightly as you brought him close and gave him a peck to the corner of his lips. This abated him, if slightly.

"Please don't kill your brother at your mother's house," you whispered against his lips, grinning.

He rubbed your back, more a habit he used to keep himself in control, whispering back, "Wouldn't be the first attempt."

"Then don't kill your brother with your children present, and your wife, who is a doctor. It is literally against my Hippocratic Oath, darling."

"It's why you're the doctor, my love. My job is to defend our honour freely."

"I really think this is your honour instead of mine." You giggled against his lips as he groaned, and you turned back at your daughters who frowned at both of you. You smiled calmly at them. "Okay, okay, girls. I don't think your Uncle Aegon told you the full story. Let Kepa tell you, hm?"

"Is it a good story?" Rhaella asked, wide eyed. "I don't want to know it if kepa sucked."

"If kepa sucked, does that mean we're bastard children?" Val frowned. "Lyanna said bastard children happens when fathers suck, her father said so."

Aemond and you shared a look, his in alarm, yours in complete mirth, before you burst out laughing, unable to stop yourself anymore.

"What is with everyone saying things to children?!" Aemond inhaled deeply. "Please let me explain. It's a long, longer story than just me raising my voice at your mother. Very interesting that your Uncle Aegon left out the part that I was panicking because of your Aunt Helaena and Uncle Daeron."

"Ha?" Rhaella's eyes comically widened further as she pulled away from you and moved closer to her father. In relief, like a cartoon cat dangling the cheese in front of a mouse, Aemond pulled her hand gently until he managed to wound her arms over his torso. "What happened to Auntie and Uncle?"

"They got into an accident, dōna mēre sweet one," Aemond murmured against her head, palpable relief as he kept her close. Rhaegar, bored brought himself and his little brother to their father, until Aemond swept them the four of them into the hammock, Daegon giggling and blowing bubbles at his father's rearranging of them so they wouldn't fall.

"Wanna go?" you teased your eldest daughter who was squirming not being part of the little huddle. Aemond opened his arms, smiling hopefully. You laughed as Valera gave you a kiss to your chest and raced to her father and siblings, moving around until they all managed to fit together.

The tree creaked as you placed your hands on your hips, pouting at them playfully as Aemond met your gaze with a shit-eating proud smirk on his face.

"Come, ñuha prūmia my heart."

"And risk crashing and burning? No, thank you. Go tell your little story while I avenge your honour and maybe get lemon cakes."

At the chorus of 'me toos' and 'yays', Aemond mouthed 'I love you' before you disappeared off, and he turned to your kids, keeping them close to his ribcage; little pieces of his hearts that grew legs and arms.

"Okay, ñuha byka zaldrīzoti my little dragons, so it all started with an accident that was entirely your Uncle Aegon's fault. . ."

Your Uncle Aegon had borrowed your Uncle Daeron's motorcycle to get to a frat party because the girl he liked would be there— this is irresponsible, children, and this is why you shouldn't be riding motorcycles and going to frat parties, yes Val, it's not as cool as it looks — anyway, his car had a broken taillight and he forgot to had it changed or tell anyone.

Your Uncle Aegon... didn't return the bike— or returned back home for the rest of the night, yes Rhaella, it was because he was, um, reading with the girl all night, like your mom and I do when we go to bed, yes Rhaegar, like how we read to you but, um, just with them.

Anyway! Your Aunt Helaena's little pup at the time, Dreamfyre, yes, baby, Dreamfyre was a puppy before she was a big dog, just like you— Dreamfyre got sick, and since Uncle Daeron was at home and he had a bike, Hel asked him. But then they saw it was gone, they had no choice but to take your uncle's car. They didn't notice the taillights.

They were speeding through, which is bad, yes, don't speed, but this was an emergency and Uncle Daeron was doing his best to hit every red stoplight when they tried to go one way but the light didn't go on, and they got into an accident.

No, Rhaegar, they didn't die, you know this, your Uncle Daeron is with Auntie Nyra, remember? And Aunt Hel is just inside, don't cry, baby. Ok, so where were we? Right, accident.

I get the call and I was panicking, out of my mind. All they said was that both of my siblings were at the hospital, declaring your uncle's plate number and I just knew it was his fault. I was already pretty angry then, and I might have transferred most of that to your mom.

Your mom, at the time, was a resident. A first year resident so she still had bad hours, and at the time, her shift mate had gotten sick and no one was able to take her shift.

Yes, dōna mēre sweet one, the times when muña can't come home fast enough. Because she has to be at the hospital to save people.

That night, your mom had been awake for 32 hours. She was not having a good day. She had lost a patient that day too, but I didn't know that, hm? She was just trying to get through the rest of her shift, having finished checking up on your uncle, when I had barrelled through like an angry beast.

All I could really remember was that I couldn't see your Aunt Hel, and your Uncle Daeron was on the hospital bed with a cast on his foot, and your mom had just looked away when I... well...

"— When you started ranting like an absolute madman, demanding better care of your baby brother when he wasn't even wincing in pain, asking for a real doctor because I looked five shies away from having graduated high school," you said, grinning wide as you handed your procured lemon cakes, and outright laughing at Aemond's sheepish, flustered look as both of his girls stared at him wide eyed.

"Kepa, oh my god," Val murmured, munching on her pastry. "That is so bad."

"You had no game," Rhae continued, sort of perplexed about the reason for her conception. "How did mom ever like you?"

"I would've slapped you," Val confirmed, nodding. "Just like you told me I would do if boys acted stupid."

As you couldn't stop laughing so hard you were bent over, your boys found your joyous display wonderful, pushed and kicked around their father while their sisters yelled about their lemon cakes, before reaching your skirts and you started spinning them around, plopping on the ground not a minute later, snuggling your babies close.

Aemond breathed a laugh, pulling his daughters close. "I know, I know, it was so bad. I was actually impressed your mother didn't slap me."

"I wanted to strangle him with the dextrose!" you chirped. "But I made an Oath, so I didn't. But ohh, with that haughty look your father sometimes get when he thinks— no, when he knows he's right? When he doesn't even need to say I told you so, he's just smirking like it?"

At your daughters— even your darling Rhaegar's triple nods, Aemond made a hm of offense, lips flattening.

"I made you three," Aemond said.

You coughed.

"I helped make you three. This is betrayal," he declared before his hands found its way to your daughters sides and tickled them with no mercy. Crows of 'Kepa, please!' between giggles warmed your chest.

"Aemond," you chidded as Rhaella gasped, snorting, and he stopped.

"So how'd you make mom fall in love with you?"

You and Aemond shared a look, your entire life stretching with one warm gaze, and a smile stretches both of your lips. Its lovesick, and familiar to your kids. Rhaella coos at it, but Rhaegar, having favoured his Uncle Aegon, makes a gagging noise before you started tickling him too.

"He apologised," you said. "Took him several tries. Your Uncle Daeron was actually ready to be discharged by the third day. Your Kepa brought him everyday to have a 'check up'."

"Daddy... that is still so lame," Rhaella whispered, in awe of how dorky her father is. Val is hiding herself in shame.

"Got her to accept my apology, and say yes to a date, you two should be grateful," Aemond said smugly.

"Why, mom?"

"Well, he was handsome for one." You snorted at his smirk. "He was sweet for another, explaining he just panicked, and I could understand that. Also he groveled for a long, long while."

"Even after the first date?" Val asked, eyes owlish.

You smirked. "Oh, definitely."

"I did deserve it."

"You did."

He smirked. "But I charmed you anyway."

You rolled your eyes. "You did."

"Come and give me a kiss, my love."

"Ewwww!"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒

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soullessdianthus · 8 months

Note

have you written anything for a perv!gromsko? he is my favorite and i would love to see you write for him!

A/N: I decided to write him in the most stereotypical way which is misogynistic (men in Poland are like this fr *COUGHS*). Just because I gave myself a pass to do that bc I'm Polish, okay? *Muah* to this anon for Polish reference! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Warnings: misogyny, sabotage in workplace, nsfw (overstimulation, darcyphilia, cockwarming, throat training, dumbification maybe?)

✧°. Gromsko is a misogynistic kind of pervert. Born and raised in a traditional Polish family he grew unaware of his deepest, darkest desires. Until.

✧°. When you enrolled into the SpecGru forces, he couldn’t believe something as delicate as a girl found herself here, within the private military company. Of course Sobiesław knew women were stronger than it seemed, but not in a fucking battlefield. In his opinion they should worry about hearth and home not a bloodshed.

✧°. Obviously he had been working with some scary women before, but never with someone like you – still young, perhaps naive even. Your pretty body untouched with little to no scars. You were definitely a description of a delicate flower in his eyes.

✧°. His mother and grandmother raised him well – he would never risk the life of a devoted woman in a place like this. So since the first day Kościuszko saw you enter the gym hall, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

✧°. Perv!Gromsko would stare from his spot, surrounded by his friends, yet it was you who got his full attention. How your body flexes and muscles stretch while working out or how your breasts bounce as you run on the treadmill. Dear God, don’t give him ideas.

✧°. He was already dreaming of you riding his cock into oblivion, naked while he was in full uniform. Sobiesław’s coarse hands pressing down onto your hips, making you sink further against him and his girl mewling from pleasure.

✧°. Sneaking behind everyone’s back Perv!Gromsko would do everything to be assigned with you while on a mission. Sobiesław very carefully sabotaged your work just for the superiors to punish you.

✧°. Why? Because he would defend you in front of them, telling them you need another chance, that he would guide you. And since he was an honored soldier within the company, they made him your temporary superior as he had a higher rank than you. From now on, he was responsible for you and your doings.

✧°. Gromsko had you where he wanted to since the very beginning – vulnerable and dependent.

✧°. Perv!Sobiesław believed it was meant that way, because women should listen to their husbands, right? First thing he wanted to change in your training routine was cardio.

✧°. Your comrade told you to show up at his dorm’s door in the evening. Without much thinking of it, you came straight to him, thinking he would take you to gym – how foolish.

✧°. A loud gasp escaped your mouth, when the man that was supposed to help you with your training session was pressing your face into the bedroom’s wall as his huge hands were groping your breasts! Perv!Gromsko would correct your stamina by relentlessly thrusting into your tight cunt, causing you to beg for a break with tears streaming down your eyes.

✧°. Evening sessions with Sobiesław became an almost daily occurrence. The man would bend you in different positions on his bed, thrusting deep into your pretty pussy until you couldn’t cum anymore. Perv!Gromsko would mock your lack of stamina and threaten he would not allow you to go on a mission if you hadn’t tried harder.

✧°. So he began training your throat breath by telling you to keep his cock in your wet mouth for a good while, sucking gently from time to time. Of course your tears and sobs were causing him to feel pity for you, but Sobiesław was doing this to help you become better! :(

✧°. He was reading a book, the one from his grandma, while you were laying between his toned legs, keeping his throbbing member warm. You would whine from time to time from the lack of enough oxygen. But then Gromsko would simply caress your pretty, silly head and tell you how good job you’re doing. <3

✧°. “Such a good girl f’me.”

✧°. “No dalej, dasz radę, Mała [pol.: Come on, you can do this, little one].”

#✧°. marie answears #request #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #sobiesław kościuszko #sobiesław gromsko kościuszko #sobiesław kościuszko x reader #sobiesław gromsko kościuszko x reader #gromsko x reader #gromsko mw2 #gromsko cod #gromsko

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moonbeamwritings · 3 months

Text

"I have a surprise for you."

Shinsuke, despite his excitement and ever the gentleman, helps you out of your coat before his hand settles on the small of your back, ushering you into the living room.

"For me?" You tease as you take a seat on the couch.

"Of course," he says gently, a boyish grin starting to form on his lips. "It's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

He's gone before you can pull him in and kiss that stupid smile off his face, disappearing down the hall to no doubt retrieve this mysterious surprise.

You bounce your leg as you wait, nervous for no good reason. You trust Shinsuke, trust him enough to know he isn't going to come back down the hall and fling a creepy-crawly into your lap. Tender love and care seeps into his every action, his every word, like sunlight washes over the rice paddies, and you know on a day like today it'll be no different.

When he returns, his hands are behind his back and his grin has spread into something proud. Lovesick. Excitement sets his features alight and it stirs a swarm of butterflies in your belly. He's so handsome like this, warm with affection and happy.

"It was hard to wrap, so I'm sorry there's nothing to open," Shinsuke warns, standing to one side, arms locked behind him. He catches your body shifting to steal a peek, and counters it, moving left and right so you can't catch a good glimpse. He knows you too well. You share a giggle. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

The reveal is nothing grand, no wild flourishes or confetti explosions, just you and Shinsuke and his pretty smile and rosy cheeks. It's perfect. A delicate bouquet of crocheted forget-me-nots and daisies, dotted with tulips and lilies, all perfectly arranged in a pretty crystal vase settles into your lap.

Your mouth drops open as you start to blink back tears. "And you-"

You can't even get the words out, but Shinsuke sits beside you, leg pressing against yours, and finds them for you. "I crocheted them and tried to arrange them so they looked pretty, but 'm a farmer not a florist." His fingers brush yours as he reaches to stroke a leaf. "Obviously."

Suddenly the last few weeks click into place. His more frequent trips to his grandma's, the disappearance of his basket of crochet supplies from the space beside his couch. All an effort to hide this little project from you.

He watches your eyes travel from flower to flower, fingers tracing gently over the petals, reverent in your appreciation of his handiwork. "Gram helped with the patterns, kept me sane. Never done anything quite this intricate, so I needed all the help I could get."

"Shinsuke, I-" You set the the vase on the table and shift to take his cheeks in your palms. "They're beautiful." Your thumb sweeps across the apple of his cheek. "Thank you."

He beams, pleased with himself. "I'm glad you like them."

"I love you." You pull him in for a kiss laced with adoration, fingers finding the nape of his neck as his hands curl around your waist. When you pull away, you bump your nose into his. You press a smile into his cheek.

"I love you too."

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke imagine #kita imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #hq x reader #hq imagine #haikyuu fluff

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mysticmunson · 1 year

Text

in the cards

eddie munson x reader x steve harrington

summary: after a mundane game of go-fish, steve makes a proposition that changes your friendship.

word count: 7.1k

warning: SMUT, minors go away shoo, dumbification

quick shoutout to @lilacletter for being amazing and letting me talk about the fic way too much!

Playing Go-Fish wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the game barely persisted as Eddie and Steve conversated. After their shifts at work, they met at yours and Eddie’s apartment, the typical meeting spot since Steve tried to avoid his house like the plague when his parents were home.

A mixed set of diamonds and spades sat in Eddie’s hand as he tapped his foot, tapping the pad of his fingers against his pursed lips. His collection on the table was growing, but still slightly behind the one before him.

“Are you even listening to me?” Steve huffed, his elbows on the table as the other eyes flicked up in his direction, rolling on their way. Placing the game face down, he leaned forward, motioning for his friend to continue.

“She couldn’t even remember my name when she was leaving, man! And not even in a good way!” Steve groaned, throwing his cards down and rubbing his palms against eyes, slouching down in the wooden chair of the dining room table.

The date he had had last week was eating him alive ever since he pulled away from Mary’s house. They both knew what they were going into when she offered him to come over while her parents were away. What he didn’t expect was for her to forget his name, still getting it wrong when he reminded her as she sent him off with, “See ya, Cleave.”

“What kind of name is Cleave? Do I look like a Cleave?” Steve questioned rhetorically as Eddie smirked, holding back a laugh as he nodded. “What? Never had a girl forget her name before, hotshot?”

“Yeah, asshole, I have.” Eddie scoffed, rubbing the corners of his lips, “It was just one bad time, Mary is bland anyways, find someone you actually find interesting. Have a connection with.”

It was true, Mary had been a fairly desperate choice after a few dry weeks, bumping into her at the mall. He hadn’t seen her since high school, even then she would just come to his house parties to drink and head out with a member of the football team. He knew he could never forget her as during junior year, she threw up into his grandma’s vase and cried, running to a friend's car with the vase in arms.

“It shouldn’t be this difficult to get laid.” Steve sighed, pushing his chair to stand, sauntering over to the fridge to grab two beers. The wooden drawers were littered with Chinese food menus, appliance instructions, and loose change, but in the depths was a silver bottle opener.

He firmly flicked the cap back, repeating the motion for the other bottle before tossing it back into the unknown. The tops scraped across the granite counters with a sharp noise, wincing as he put them into the garbage pail. Entering the dining room, he held the drink towards Eddie as he accepted.

“Not difficult to get laid, difficult to get laid good.” Eddie stated, shrugging and taking a sip. The bubbles tickled his throat as he coughed them away subtly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Since when are you the sex expert?” Steve grumbled, not enjoying the turn of events that this conversation was bringing forth. He fell to his seat, slumping as he threw his head back, taking a long slip.

It seemed like days ago that Eddie would ask Steve for advice on your guy’s sex life, paranoid that he would be shit at it and scare you away. He’d always assure him it wouldn’t, he had known you longer than Eddie, and it would take much more than awkward touching to get rid of you.

Now, it was more than days, weeks, or months ago. You two had been together for over two years, moved in together, and ironed out the major sex concerns. But Steve had never had to vent like this to him and his ego was bruising like a peach.

“Since I’ve had a girlfriend for almost three years and you can’t even get a steady hook up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes as he gathered all the cards in a pile, straightening them into a deck. The soft cracking of the paper hitting one another filled the room as Eddie began to shuffle, seeing quick splashes of red and black amongst the white sheets.

“Whatever, maybe it’s cause I like trying kinky shit unlike some people!” Steve retorted, but was only met with a laugh that Eddie couldn’t hold back for even a moment. The boy's eyebrows scrunched as he looked at him expectantly, hoping for an explanation of his abrupt humor, “Oh what, you’re some King in the bedroom now?”

After he stopped needing frequent advice, Eddie didn’t talk about sex that much, aside from the typical joke or banter. Steve figured it could be due to his friendship with both of you or that Eddie finally relaxed into the intimacy, but part of him always wanted to know the details.

Sure, it was nosey, but everyone is nosey, especially when two of your closest friends start dating. You two were a bit of an odd pair, anyone with Eddie was as his rough exterior could juxtapose with your gentiler one. When Eddie would ask about how he should initiate sex or suggest something, it made Steve’s mind wander. He kept it under a fair amount of control, but he saw the fictional visuals as he made suggestions. He knew you both well, so well that sometimes he was convinced he was the puppet master of your sex lives for the first few weeks.

Once you two had gotten closer, the chats stopped, with any questions towards Eddie being met with, “No complaints.” Short, but effective, and unfortunately, nothing to add onto. He tried to ignore it, focusing on his own issues, but it practically taunted him. He’d see a used condom in the trash when using the bathroom or notice the way you shivered when Eddie dragged his fingers against your bare skin, even in the most innocent of areas, shooting you a wink.

“I doubt that you wanting to try shit is prohibiting your action and King is debatable.” Eddie mused, resting his ring clad fingers against his gray shirt, the condensation from the glass lingering to darken the fabric.

Finally, more than just blanket statements, he could work with this banter.

“So just sometimes a King? Sometimes a disappointment like your old chum?” Steve joked, running a hand through his locks, working through a single knot that must have come from a kid pulling on his hair at work. Apparently kneeling to the bottom row to organize nature documentaries was a contact sport.

“I do what I need to do. And then some.” Eddie replies, but his friend can see the smile he’s trying to suppress before his lips meet the bottle again. So Steve nods for him to continue, putting his ankle against his opposite knee, giving him full attention.

Eddie doesn’t look over until he becomes painfully aware of the silence, seeing awaiting eyes. He liked having something private that no one would know or understand, seeing each other in a raw way completely enticing to the other.

But part of him wanted to spill his guts, share every detail with precision and description. He was never one to bite his tongue, constantly having a new topic to discuss or argue about. He could trust Steve, probably more than anyone, and you trusted Steve a lot too.

“We’ve done a lot, she forgets my name and her own a lot. It’s… something else, man.” He sighs, relinquishing the sharp breath behind his teeth, curling his toes from inside his boots.

“In a Cleave way or a good way?” Steve jests, not enjoying the slight awkwardness lingering, that Eddie cackles at, shaking his head.

“Good way, don’t think we would’ve lasted this long if she called me Freddie.” He laughs, one that Steve returns, “She goes dumb a lot, so it’s not unusual.”

The riot quieted as Steve tried to make sense of Eddie’s comment. You weren’t dumb, not by a long shot, you had managed those boys out of trouble more times than they could count.

“Ya know, turns into an airhead, can barely talk, starts blinking slower, and just mumbling.” Eddie explained, “But sometimes, it gets really loud. Cries and drools a lot too, basically have to carry her cause her legs get too shaky.”

Silence hung for maybe a moment before Steve laughed, making Eddie look up at the boy before him who rubbed fingers over his eyebrows. His eye roll was noticeable, even behind the stray hairs that fell as his head moved and the fans blew cold air.

“What’s so funny, Harrington? Don’t believe me?” Eddie grimaced, annoyed at his friends behavior and trying to ignore the shot to his self esteem. His sexual experiences started years after Steve’s, it’s why he went to him in the first place after you two got together.

As time went on, you made him feel relaxed about wanting things or experimentation, so much so that he didn’t feel a need to talk about it with anyone, but you. Steve would rant or rave about his newest find while he chose to hold his cards a bit closer, especially as you got more vulnerable with him.

After your first few times together, he noticed you couldn’t fully relax into it like he could. There was a subtle rigidness to your form, as if your body could decompress, but you were holding back. When you revealed you wanted him to place his hands around your neck, he was nervous, but tried gently.

He watched as your eyes went blank, breathing leveling out, and body molding to his against the mattress. His thrusts kept their harsh pace as he talked you through your orgasm, finishing himself not long after. During after care, he mentioned it and watched bashfulness cover your face.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to have my hands around your neck to fully relax, baby.” He confessed, your body against his as he cupped your cheek, “Let's just keep trying different things and see what you like best, okay? I just want you to enjoy it.”

The next few times were spent experimenting with positions, dynamics, and role play. It wasn’t until you stopped trying to force it that it happened. You had a particularly rough day, crashing into him with neediness that you usually tried to suppress as he led you to the bedroom.

The same hazy gaze coated your eyes as he fucked you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room as you squeaked in response to his grunts. When Eddie noticed, he encouraged it, being gentle vocally to help you succumb to the pleasure you were craving. It made you feel weightless and made him feel like a hero. It became addicting, the dynamic of letting him care for you as you let the day melt away.

“Whatever man.” Steve commented, his lips meeting the bottle as he drank it halfway, burping quietly into his fist.

“I’m not lying, jackass!” Eddie raised his voice, not indicating anger, but in frustration and his typical rowdiness. His brown eyes bore into his companions as they go from playful to complex.

“Prove it.” Steve retorts, solidifying his stance at the opposition. Eddie had no reason to lie, but he couldn’t imagine you so defenseless. So helpless.

Eddie opened his mouth to reply until his eyes widened, eyebrows disappearing behind his unruly bangs of brown. His reaction made Steve’s stomach drop, if the instigation was overstepping a boundary he had been blind to, but how were you supposed to react to this sort of proposition.

The gears within their head slowly churned as they stared at one another, pursed lips and nodding slowly and subtly. Downing the rest of his beer in one swing, Eddie let out a loud breath as the bubbles trailed down his gut.

“Okay Harrington, if she agrees, join us.” Eddie decides, truly unsure on whether you would find the idea enticing or strange. Feeling a bit of both of those emotions, the boys shook their hands on it before letting their arms fall to their sides.

That was 3 weeks ago.

Steve figured you had opted against it, cringing at the idea of him becoming sexually involved in your relationship, but you nor Eddie were acting differently. You all went to dinner as normal, Steve came over every few days, all the mundane things that occurred prior to the conversation over cards.

When the days of radio silence fizzled to background noise, he concluded that it wasn’t going to happen, that the perverted thoughts that crept in his mind would remain there until they vanished. But with Eddie’s added details, it only enhanced the imagery, seeing everything when he closed his eyes.

As he tied his shoelaces, sat on his bed in jeans and a sweater as he prepared to do last minute adult stuff, like going to the post office. Robin had been away at band camp for two weeks and asked him to write letters, most he forgot to send, but he was determined to make at least one get there before she came home and ridiculed him.

His bedside table phone startled him, securing the knot before grabbing the green handle, almost knocking over the candle his mom got him for Christmas years ago that he had only lit once.

“Yello?” Steve chimed, pressing the phone to his shoulder as he adjusted the watch on his wrist. He kept forgetting to puncture another hole in the leather to make it more snug.

“Harrington, what’s up, man?” Eddie let out a breathy chuckle from the opposing end, making Steve check his calendar across his room. He usually came to their place on Tuesdays after his longest shifts and on the weekends, but he panicked that he forgot an event.

“Uh, just hanging out, ‘bout to head to the post office.” He hums, pressing his lips to a line, preparing himself for the scream he’s about to receive when Eddie reveals whatever he may have forgotten, “What about you?”

“Cool.” Eddie cuts his friend off, clearing his throat, “Remember that conversation we had like three weeks ago? She said yes, I told her you’d appear on a random day, I didn’t want her to be nervous.”

The thud within Steve’s stomach must have been picked up on the opposing line, his fingers halting their work at picking off the plastic covering of the coil connected to the phone. The only thing making him know this was real was Eddie’s grainy breathing in his ear through the shitty speaker.

“I’ll be right over.” He declares, putting the phone down harsher than intended, standing up quickly to grab his box of condoms from his bedside drawer. His anxiety riddled brain begins to overanalyze, how many condoms do you bring to a threesome? What if they all break as he puts them on and has to do a walk of shame to the gas station to get more? What if you’re allergic to latex and have a bad reaction?

As he made his way to his car, he felt himself clam up as the worst outcomes infiltrated. What if this is a joke? Eddie luring him over, just to laugh at his anticipation to watch his girlfriend get fucked. He could tell the whole town how Steve Harrington is a cuck, a lustful heathen watching young women get pleasured. But then he rationalized that, who would Eddie tell? He had a loud mouth, but most tuned him out and he didn’t hang out with many people who would actually give a shit.

They were his best friends, they shit on him, but never intentionally made him feel bad. You had seen him at some of his lowest points, only providing comfort and a joke to lighten the mood. It would be a complete contrast to the girl he’s known for years.

His car pulled into the apartment complex, waving at the guard reading a newspaper who stood post daily. His typical spot beside your car was open as he backed in, placing his hand on the passenger seat to look behind himself, easing into the compact space. His car jolted to a stop as he turned off the engine, remaining in his seat belt for a moment, unable to believe he was here for this reason.

On autopilot he approached your door, softly knocking as he rocked back and forth against your doormat. The black font spelled Welcome, recalling how you dragged him along to buy furniture and decor for your place when you moved in.

“Hey man.” Eddie smiles, swinging the door open and letting his friend in. Steve nodded and slipped off his shoes, noticing the sound of running water from the bathroom, “You still wanna do this right? If not just say the word, I don’t want to fuck up-”

“I wanna do it.” Steve assures a bit too firmly, face reddening which makes Eddie laugh, going to the couch and sitting down. Steve followed, grabbing the blue throw pillow and placing it in his lap.

“Alright, here’s the plan. She’s in the shower and still doesn’t know you’re here. She’s had a few rough days at work and needs to destress, so I’m gonna get her started and make sure she’s in a good headspace before you come in.” Eddie explains, more serious than most saw of him, “I’ll signal you, thumbs up or down for which direction this is heading. If she doesn’t want to today, just head out like normal, but if she does, don’t hesitate to back away during it. Neither of us will be offended, if she gets upset, it’s just because she’s in a headspace and I’ll handle it, nothing’s gonna change our friendship.”

Steve nodded as Eddie spoke, feeling more relaxed at his reassurance, comforted at his thought into it and how he accounted for everyone. He could tell Eddie was a bit nervous as he bit at his lip, playing with his rings by twisting them back and forth, the skin beneath becoming the shade of a strawberry. When the water turned off, he gave Steve a nod before walking down the hall to the bedroom, leaving the door open just an inch. The bathroom was connected, meaning you wouldn’t notice the opened door or Steve, just Eddie sitting on the bed nonchalantly.

“Hey pretty girl, c’mere.” Eddie cooed, signaling you over in just your towel as you opened the door, hair down and dry as you washed it the day previous.

Pulling your body close to his, you melted to his embrace, relishing in his soft shirt and strong arms. You had never felt comfort like how you did with Eddie, that peace could be contained in such an eccentric package. His lips pressed lightly against your damp skin, down your collarbone to your shoulder.

Tossing your head backwards, you barely noticed as he slipped off your towel, letting it fall down into a heap of beige. He met your lips with his, cradling your cheek with his palm, twisting to let you lay against the blanket. Yanking off his shirt quickly, he met you again, his tongue slipping behind your teeth.

With your thighs at his sides, he rubbed his jean clad crotch against your bare cunt, making you mewl into his mouth. He scooted down between your legs, rubbing soothingly against your plush skin.

He could have gone all in, eating you out like he was starving, but he knew something more effective at this moment. He was delicate, pressing gentle kisses to your lower lips until you whimpered. He sucked on your folds, avoiding your clit to keep you needy, seeing your hands clench at your sides.

The salacious sounds flowed into the living room where Steve sat, keeping his gaze on the door for his signal, but his cheeks became crimson. It felt like an invasion, hearing two people pleasure each other, even though he was invited. He had been in this home more times than he could count, but he noticed the chips in the paint on the wall or the small stain in the carpet as he tried anything to avoid thinking of you spread out.

“Eddie, please.” Steve heard from the bedroom, followed by the squeaking of the mattress and the male voice shushing you. He tried to rub some pain away from his crotch, biting his lip at the brief relief, but yanking his hand away as he heard your moans get louder until you cried out.

It went quiet as Eddie’s upwards thumb came into view, the reality officially settling in as Steve approached the door. Stepping inside, he saw you naked on all fours upon the messy bed, facing the right side of the bed. His breath hitched at the sight, your eyes already spacy and only focusing on your boyfriend who stood with your chin in hand, wearing only a pair of black boxers.

“Now sweetheart,” He began, summoning Steve over, “Are you going to be a good girl for our guest and me?” You nodded fiercely, only aiming to make him happy in this blissful state, making him chuckle as he dropped his grasp. “Alright, get him started.”

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but you apparently did, sitting up and pulling off his sweater. You were at eye level when you looked the other way, waiting for the approval of your partner before you met your best friend's lips. The kiss was tentative, his movement hesitant as he felt someone watch, but he soon fell into the touch.

He held your cheek, deepening the kiss and stepping closer. Your mouth was minty and warm as his tongue crossed the border, exploring the uncharted territory he had fantasized about. Your hands reached his belt, undoing the metal buckle and unzipping his jeans. Your palm rubbed against his growing erection, making him moan into you before biting your lower lip.

With a small trail of spit, you pulled away and moved to the floor to sit on your haunches. Yanking his trousers and underwear to the floor, you averted to Eddie, taking his remaining clothes off. You licked your hand to gently tug at Steve’s cock as your mouth was occupied with your boyfriends length.

Their groans almost harmonized as they got harder under your touch, finding power within the submissiveness. A firm hand came to your head to push the cock further down your throat, gagging briefly as you sucked in a breath through your nose. Switching the placement, you felt Steve twitch when your lips met his tip, swirling your tongue around the smooth skin.

“Fuck.” Steve whispered, his stomach clenching as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in a similar motion against Eddie. He found too much pleasure watching his girlfriend blow their best friend, but it made him hard and it only increased as he realized how much consensual power he had in the scenario.

He grasped your wrist, moving it so he could move lower, squatting beside you. As you reached the end of Steve’s dick, Eddie yanked you off as you squeaked, his hand threaded into your hair. He made a soft tsking noise, shaking his head with a shit eating grin.

“On the bed.” He instructed, assuming your previous position on all fours as he sauntered behind you, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. He nodded at you as you began to suck Steve’s dick once more.

Eddie stroked himself inside the plastic and slid his head through your wet folds, watching the tip get shiny. He smirked, pressing into your cunt as you moaned, a low vibration surrounding your invaded throat. When you came up for air, Eddie laughed to both you and Steve’s surprise.

“Now, now, don’t be shy. Tell Stevie what you’re really thinking about,” Eddie taunted, watching embarrassment flood to your face as Steve looked downwards in confusion, meeting the man's eyes next, “Are you gonna tell Stevie? Hm?”

Looking back at Eddie with a wobbly lip, Steve felt his heart twist and subconsciously brought his hand to your cheek to rub it soothingly. Steve wasn’t used to seeing his friend be a bit of a dick, mocking and belittling you, but there was still so much care. And you clearly enjoyed it, finding peace within the world he made for you behind the wooden door and concrete walls. Eddie laced his fingers into your hair, smirking as you looked up at the man before you.

“Go on, tell Stevie how you’ve been dreaming about his balls in your mouth.” Eddie taunted as his friend grew a cheshire smile, biting his lip to prevent his own laugh.

“Want ‘em, baby?” Steve lured, moving closer with his erection by your face as he lazily stroked it, blossoming red. All you could muster was a whine, launching forward to suck on one of his most sensitive places.

Stars appeared before Steve as your hand moved to jerk him off as your mouth went to work beneath it. Eddie’s thrusts picked up momentum with a smack to your ass, rubbing the skin tenderly as you moaned.

“Fuckin’ loves it, man. Practically begs for my balls.” Eddie musters out, flicking his gaze up as both held condescending smirks, “Loves when you press them on her face or… on her pussy.” With his last words, Eddie pressed them against your folds, clit feeling his warm skin as you cried out.

Shortly after, Eddie pulled away, tilting his head to signal their partner away too. When he got a good look at you, Steve really realized what Eddie meant. Your eyes were glossy, lips hanging open and doing whatever you were instructed. He was snapped from his daze when a condom flew at his chest, fumbling to grab it before it hit the ground.

Eddie held up the box, showing the sizing that was a match for Steve’s, so he opened it, putting it on with a grunt as he felt sensitive. You laid down horizontally on the mattress, Eddie by your head and Steve by your feet. Eddie hadn’t come yet, but pulled away the condom, knowing he was about to enter your mouth.

“Hey, look at me.” Eddie commanded gently, squatting to meet your eyes as you looked in a haze, “Focus for a second, baby.” Steve went stagnant, releasing himself from his grasp and rubbing small circles on your hip.

“Now, your hand stays on my thigh at all times, okay?” Eddie asks, awaiting your nod. Giving head in this position, him above you with your nose covered by his skin, was glorious, but made him anxious. He didn’t play around when it came to things like this, knowing how ditsy you can get and the lack of oxygen it can cause if you couldn’t signal him.

“I want you to tap my thigh once for Yes or Good, then twice for No or Bad. If you need to call Yellow or Red, smack me as hard as you can.” He instructed, smoothing your hair back from your forehead, “I need to hear you say it, pretty girl.”

“Once for yes, twice for no, smack for red.” You whispered, reaching behind you for his hips and he grabbed your wrists.

Giving you a warning glare, you slinked them down, resting them on your warm tummy.

“If your hand leaves me or you don’t respond, Steve and I both pull away.” He addressed, making you whimper, “It won’t happen if you do those two things.”

Nodding, you sniffled subconsciously, looking into your devoting boyfriend's eyes with a small smile. He stroked your cheek sweetly for a moment, kissing you upside down, mumbling a sweet ‘I love you’.

While Steve had never seen this side of Eddie, he knew it had to have existed as you were a fairly emotional person. It wasn’t anything abnormal, you just felt things intensely in general.

He kneeled on the bed, glancing at your face and observing as he slid himself inside. He knew that as soon as he heard your moanful gasp, that it would remain on repeat in his brain far longer than it should. Inching himself in with a shaky breath, he held onto your plush hip, relishing in the soft noises leaving your mouth.

Straddling over your face, your hand resting on Eddie's thigh, he pushed his tip inside your lips. He moaned at the vibrations around his cock as you made muted noises, biting his own lip and clenching his eyes.

The pleasure you felt was all consuming, feeling full by your best friend and the warmth of your boyfriend on your face with the rest of him using your throat to get off. Spit pooled to the top of your mouth, coming down your chin, feeling Eddie’s thumb rub some on your lips.

Eddie’s hand went down to squeeze your breast, toying with the nipple to evoke shivers. Your brain had drifted away, senses overloaded to a state of bliss beyond comprehension as they utilized your body for what they desired. When Steve’s fingers reached your bundle of nerves, your legs began to shake, whimpers struggling to surface.

Hands from both ends stroked your soft skin gently, attempting to calm you down. But part of Eddie was losing his mind, watching you be pleased by another man, but a part of him couldn’t look away. His gaze lingered at your cunt being filled, but Steve’s eye’s couldn’t tear away from seeing the outline of Eddie’s cock through your neck.

“Hand. One warning.” Eddie grunted after your hand had fallen to your sides, too immersed in your head to remember the one rule instructed to you. The muffled squeak could be heard as it flew back to his tattoo, gluing itself to the detailed ink.

The squelching of your arousal was filling the room, Steve throwing back his head, pushing some of his brown locks away. The position was good, but he wanted more, letting his hands flow from your hips to your knees.

In a swift motion, he bent them, holding your thighs down to fuck you deeper, making sure his balls hit the bottom of your pussy. Eddie laughed as you yelped, taking an opportunity to thrust faster down your throat, making you gag.

Maybe there should have been more shame in how much pleasure you received from being manhandled, especially by two people, but their gentle touches felt far more erotic than anything else.

Starving off an orgasm, Eddie slowed down, making the strokes longer, nuzzling down to the hilt. His mouth hung open, eyes fluttering for a moment before opening in front of him to see Steve, who looked at where the two of you met. When Steve looked up to see Eddie’s blissed out grin, he blushed, lips parted slightly.

As Eddie relished in the pleasure, he felt your hand beginning to slip before falling to the sides, giving you a few seconds to see if it was an accident, before pulling away abruptly. Steve noticed and backed away too, softening his gaze at your bashful and frazzled demeanor.

“No, wait, please.” You mumbled, throat growing slightly raw as you tried to sit up, but Eddie walked to the side, dragging you to sit up by your armpits. He can see the way your thighs are clenching, adjusting in discomfort with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna try something else, okay?” He soothed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb before kissing you. Steve felt himself growing weaker as he neared his end, cock blossoming a bright red, and opted to take a seat on the bed. Eddie had turned away to grab a fresh rubber, “Get on top of him, baby.”

After receiving the instructions, you followed them by straddling Steve and kissing him. The hormones were flowing with more intensity as you ached for an orgasm while he hoped he’d at least last a bit longer.

“Fuck her, Harrington.” Eddie’s voice boomed as he approached, his knees on the bed as he went behind you. Without hesitation, Steve angled himself to your entrance and slid his tip inside. You gasped between kisses, sinking down on it with little resistance as due to the gravity and his hands guiding your waist..

Meeting your hips halfway, Steve moaned at the feeling of you on his cock and Eddie watching with a stoic expression. You threw your head back as a wave of brief pleasure coaxed you, not quite at your peak before getting closer.

Through the movements, Eddie reached to his drawer, pulling your preferred lube choice and put some onto his hand. He grabbed himself, making sure his length was well covered and dragged his damp finger against your other hole. He felt your body shutter at the delicate touch, this being something fairly new for you both, and never doing it at the same time as classical penetration.

A loud gasp sent your lips away from Steve’s, making his brows furrowed in confusion until he saw your boyfriends focus downward. Steve hushed you, holding your head against his neck to let you cry out, body tensing at the sudden sensation of the man behind you.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re doing so good.” Eddie assured, being as delicate as he could as he inched his way inside. Every vein and ridge felt so prominent within the canal of your holes, closing your eyes to focus on the way they both felt.

Your barely audible cries made both men feel guilty, Steve stroking your hair and Eddie rubbing your back. The safe word or colors hadn’t been utilized, so they knew they weren’t going over any limits, but the tears falling down your cheeks weren’t easy to witness.

He reached a point where most of himself was inserted in your ass, beginning to thrust subtly to test the waters, putting a few drops of lubrication to where you connected for some extra help.

“You’re okay, honey, we gotcha.” Steve moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit to rub small circles against the needy bud. The pleasure helped ease the ache from both men inside, nails digging into his tan shoulder. It was a few minutes later when you finally mewled, the sensitivity of your body finally meeting the pleasure they were proposing, feeling their tips reach a point inside you.

“There she is, there’s my girl. Doin’ so good, baby.” Eddie praised, holding your hips still to let him control the pace, also giving his friend more leeway to thrust up into you. The spurts of satisfaction became more frequent as all three of you grew more comfortable, gaining a rhythm.

“Feel so good, sweetheart, fuck. Better than I imagined.” Steve blurted, resting his forehead against yours as his hands multitasked between your chest and between your legs.

The sensation was overstimulating, penetrating the most intimate of places with pain and pleasure. The world around you seemed to turn to television static, aware of it, but with no concept of what truly was going on.

With your cheek pressed against Steve’s cheek, your mouth hung open to release small squeaks, a few tears still trickling as the pain slowly subsided. You curled your toes that were pressed against the comforter, a reminder of your physical presence.

The reminder must have not been clear enough as both men pulled out abruptly, the sudden emptiness startling you with a whimper that was quickly hushed. Eddie sat against the pillows, pulling your back to his chest, pressing a few short kisses to your neck and lips with small words of encouragement.

Yanking your legs across, you were spread out against Eddie’s lap as he re-entered your ass, the insertion much quicker than before, making you wincereleased a sob. Eddie tilted your face towards him, hushing you calmly. Steve moved towards you on both knees, preparing to slip inside, but became transfixed on your glistening pussy.

His mouth met your cunt, lapping up your messy arousal from your puffy folds. Shivers ran down your spine as you focused on his tongue, balancing with the ache of Eddie’s cock inside. Steve’s mouth reached your clit, slipping two fingers inside to curl upwards, finding a familiar spot that made you moan.

“Don’t come yet.” Eddie commanded and felt your body tense against him, nodding with a bitten lip. He would typically make you verbally agree, but he knew the whole situation was fairly intense, so he wasn’t going to get hung up on minor details.

“Didn’t think you’d be so cruel, Munson. Especially not with this cute little cunt.” Steve smirked, rising back to his knees as his mouth glistened with your arousal.

The vulgarity falling from his lips was due to comfort, realizing he could also join Eddie in the game with boundaries. He watched his friend roll his eyes with a laugh while Steve slid in quickly, making you gasp.

There was a hitch in your throat, coughing it through as you tried to regulate your breathing. The new position had you more revealed, Eddie’s hands holding your knees far apart and propositioning you completely exposed to their guest.

“Kiss please.” You mumbled, attempting to get closer to Steve’s face, which made him laugh.

“You have two cocks inside you and still need more?” He sassed, instantly regretting it as your face fell and Eddie glared, “I’m just kidding, baby, c’mere.” His lips met yours fast, absorbing every second of passion between you both.

Eddie kissed along your neck, still ignoring the jealousy he had over your exchange with their friend, but reminding himself he knew you like no one else did. Like how he knew it took a lot for you to ask for specific things when you were vulnerable, something he’d definitely need to mention to Steve.

A burn began to strike in your lower gut, broiling as they increased their movements, the sounds of wet skin hitting one another as your slick and the lubricant covered both of them. Steve’s thumb met the bundle of nerves between your legs again, ruthlessly swirling the pad of his finger against it with no mercy.

The pleas from your mouth didn’t commute as your jaw fell open, a shaky hand attempting to ease some of the pressure below, but they only increased their intensity. They could see you falling apart with little regard, their own balls tensing at the approaching orgasm, but they weren’t done with you yet.

“Off please.” You mumbled to Eddie, his brows furrowed in concentration, catching your gaze as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“No baby, not tonight,” He whispered, which ignited a whine that he quieted, “You’re being good sweetheart, just not tonight.”

Steve wondered what you were referencing, but found it pointless to question now as Eddie wasn’t allowing it. He glanced down to see himself slotted between your legs, a glistening mess that made his stomach clench. A deep moan left your stomach as you began to shake, crying out at the overstimulation and feeling yourself losing control.

Eddie’s ring clad hands seared into your hip, attaching his lips to your neck as Steve leaned in to snatch your lips. The kiss was fierce, desire overcoming all of you in mere moments as the finish line came in sight. Your boyfriend groaned and threw his head back as he came, body shaking as the tightness of your ass strangled him.

Somehow Steve managed to get you to finish before him, his fingers moving quickly against your clit until you cried out, letting himself release. He shivered against your chest, your nipples grazing across his damp skin, trying to use his free hand to hold himself up.

The whimper you released was inevitable as Steve slipped out, rolling to his side, and Eddie pulled out. The emptiness was jarring as you tried to come back down to Earth, a mixed set of emotions encompassing you as the boys helped you lay down, molding between them.

As the intense huffs subsided, your eyes fluttered open to see two sets of brown ones looking at you with affection. Eddie’s calloused thumb came to your cheek, wiping the stray tears that had slipped, and Steve’s firm hand rubbed your hip.

“You feelin’ okay, baby?” Eddie asked, tilting your head up, knowing eye contact can sometimes be difficult for you after intense sex. He can see your hazy look, blinking blankly and nodding slowly. “Let’s get you cleaned up then you can sleep, okay?”

The question didn’t need an answer as he pulled on his boxers, lifting your body up and carrying you bridal style across the hall as Steve picked up his boxers from the floor. He sat on the edge, stretching his back that he thought was pulled after the intense climax, but the exhaustion waved over him instead. Rubbing his eye lids, he lost track of time in his own daze, hearing the squeak of the bathroom door open. He looked up, Eddie smiled and raised his eyebrows quickly with you in his arms.

“She about fell asleep in there,” Eddie chuckled, “Stay the night, man. It’s getting late.” He told Steve, bending down to snatch his discarded shirt and put it on your body. Steve nodded, scooting back to his original placement on your right while Eddie went to your left.

The rustling made you squeak, just on the brink of slumber, nuzzling into the both of them. Hushing you, they both maneuvered the shirt onto your body, opting to forgo the panties due to your sensitivity. Your soft snores vibrated against Eddie’s chest, your bottom against Steve, as they laid on their backs.

“What did she want off?” Steve asked, breaking the silence, his friend looking over at him in confusion, “Towards the end. You said she was still good, but not now.”

A blush settled on Eddie’s cheeks, looking down at you and kissing your head. A laugh threatened to form as he tried to word it as clean as possible.

“She wanted the condoms off.” He replied, watching Steve’s eyes open wider, rubbing a hand on his face with a small sigh of disbelief. “We only do it every once in a while, for obvious reasons, but she usually asks for it when she’s small.”

“She’s gonna kill me.” Steve mumbled, making Eddie laugh with a yawn cutting him short, now yawning as well. He wasn’t sure what the morning would look like, but he didn’t have the energy to think about it, he was going to enjoy what the night had brought him.

He needed to start playing Go-Fish more.

hi! thank you for reading, mwah!

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months

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Always have but never hold

Next chapter

a/n lingered in my brain for a bit and now it's out here. Be gentle, it's my first time writing for this man. 😳🥺😭✨

warnings: fighting, kitchen accidents, swearing, mental health struggles.

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Fuck early Chicago mornings and the freezing temperatures that came with them. And add the people who promised bursts of sunshine and blue skies to the list. Fuck all of them and their predictions. Your grandma made better weather foretellings and landed straight on target with them.

You tightened your jacket closer to your body. Wrapping your hands around yourself. Well, the jacket wasn't yours. It was Carmy's, but you always preferred to wear his stuff. It soothed your anxiety. All the worries Made the early mornings more bearable. You don't remember the last time you two woke up in the same bed. You don't remember how the warmth of the morning, still wrapped up in the sheets, felt. Carmy would be off to the restaurant even before you. You tried to suggest that you just go together an hour or so later, but that only brought out a fight that left you two even further apart as it was. And it had gotten far away. You let his scent flow through your mind, chasing the nagging voice away. Yet already dreading the chaos of the day ahead.

Your phone starts ringing in your pocket. For a moment, you hesitated. Surely, it's too early for something serious to be going on. But then, don't all the scary things happen at the oddest hours? So you reach for it, frowning when you see Sugar's name lighting up the phone. You weren't close to Carmy's family. You had only met them briefly at the funeral. God, they didn't even know who you were. Nor did they care. Or maybe they cared too much.

"Hello", you said, clearing your throat right away. You hadn't spoken any words yet this morning, meaning the first hello sounded way too raspy. "Yeah, hi, it's early, isn't it", Sugar breathed, and you almost wanted to roll your eyes. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to it. Her voice sounded worried. "Did anything happen?", you trailed off. It's not like you two called each other out of the blue. You didn't just chat or go out for coffee. You didn't meet up for lunch or dinner. She had called you once, and it was only to ask if Carmy had wanted to keep any of Mikey's stuff. She was Natalie to you. Someone who might not even stop in the middle of the street to greet you.

"I've just been thinking about Carmy", she muttered quickly. You could hear her shuffling through some papers in the background. "What about him?", you said after a moment of silence. "Did you talk to him about the doctor I suggested? Maybe you two can even go together?", the words just spilled from her mouth, and you halted quickly, "You care for him, right? So take him". A light hint of anger picked up in your chest at that. They had all been pushing down on him. Do that. Do this. Carmy wasn't like them. He operated differently.

"Yeah, yeah, we spoke about it. He just doesn't want to do it now", you said calmly, changing the hand with which you'd been holding the phone so you could warm up your fingers in the jacket pocket. "He will never want to do it", Natalie grumbled back, "Did he even tell you about the times he couldn't breathe? Don't you notice that it's bad? It's scary". A chill ran down your spine. An image of Carmy holding onto his throat filled your brain. Hand gripping the sink as he gasped for air. Panicked eyes searched the room. Two am. Calling the ambulance. Crying in the bathroom before you even went to see him. Fuck, they knew about how scary it was, yet you only mumbled a quiet, "I know, yeah". A sigh leaves her mouth. "And you're not doing anything? He'll end up like...", but you pull your phone away from your ear, press the red button, and swallow quickly. You weren't going to think about it now. No. Not now. Not never. Carmy wasn't going to end up like this. He just wasn't.

You rounded the last corner, quickly pushing your key into the door before letting yourself in. The warmth of the restaurant soothed your cold skin. You thought about giving yourself a moment to compose yourself, but then you were already late. So you quickly undid the jacket. "Where's my fucking knife? Have you seen my knife?", Carmy's voice echoed through the space. You quickly dropped your stuff at the corner of his desk in the office before walking into the kitchen.

"Morning", you smiled up at everyone, and someone grumbled in return. The tension in the kitchen was already brutal. "Your cigarette is on the table, Tina", You turned her way, and she flashed you a smile. "Lord knows, I'll need a whole pack of them today". She had been the only one who hadn't thrown a fit about your being here. She wasn't flowing with joy, but it was by far the best way you've been greeted since moving back to Chicago with Carmy.

"Behind", Carmy shouted again, moving past the rest of the kitchen with a tray of meat in his hands. He didn't even glance your way. He wasn't someone to go lovely dovey in front of the others yet it stung. To your surprise, he turned your way. Eyes softened at the sight of you, and all of the nagging thoughts drained. "Hey", he muttered, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently. "We prep, then the papers?", he asked, already bearing for the tray with vegetables. You quickly nodded before reaching for the knife yourself.

"They fucked the order? Why the hell do I care that they don't have my shit in stock", Carmy ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "I'll call them again; this is just...", "Why don't you take a break? Breathe for a moment", you said, lowering the order papers onto the desk. Eyes searching his. You've only been in the office for ten minutes, and all that time Carmy had been shouting. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he buried his face in his hands. You stepped closer, your fingers instantly reaching for his hair. Running your fingers through his curls, you let him do what felt best, and Carmen wasted no time in bringing his hands up to rest on your hips, his face buried in your stomach. He let out a frustrated growl, and then the place went silent.

"Talk to me. Say anything", his voice was barely a mutter, but you heard him perfectly. He did this often. Whenever the voices in his head got too loud, he would ask you to speak. Tell him whatever pops into your head. It didn't even have to make sense. He just needed to hear it. The smooth sound of your voice. "We ran out of milk, and I managed to put on a wash before I left", Your fingers dragged down his neck and shoulders. "We'll have clean sheets; can you believe it?", you chuckled softly. The apartment looked like shit if you were being honest, but then you spend so little time there these days.

"We can buy milk on our way back", Carmy said, pulling away slightly. "Yeah, we sure can", you hummed. Just as a knock made you both turn toward the door, A dark-skinned girl with big eyes stood there, looking at Carmy as if she had seen a holy spirit. "I... I... I want to help with the kitchen. To work, I mean", she stuttered, and you instantly turned to her fully. "We talked yesterday, didn't we?", You reached your hand towards her, and she shook it gently. "We sure can use a second set of hands", You smiled at her, yet her eyes didn't leave Carmy. "Sydney and... My resume", she handed the papers to Carmy, who flipped through them straight away.

In a perfect world with a perfect system, you would have loved to give her a rundown of the place. Unfortunately, this wasn't a normal place, nor was the situation normal. So Sydney was left to listen to the constant swearing and bickering of everyone else. It was half-decent until Richie showed up. Shouting at the top of his lungs about all that Carmy was doing wrong. And that fucking pasta of his. You gripped the knife tighter but stayed out of it. This wasn't a fight you wanted to be a part of.

"As if we need another know-it-all in the kitchen. Don't need that fancy shit,", he barked, glaring at the girl. Sydney's head was hung low, but she too said nothing. Doing her thing as she got ready for family. "We don't need this shit; it was fine till Carmy stepped in, fine till you showed up", Richie slurred, and the last straw snapped within you: "Get your head out of your ass and drop it", your glare met him, and you could feel the way all of the anger within him now ran directly to you. Boiled even more because of you.

"And who's talking? One more burden Carmen dragged from New York", he spat, stepping closer to you, no doubt trying to intimidate you, but you didn't back away. "We should have lost you at the airport", he said bitterly. "What will your art degree do for us? Want to paint walls, sweetie?". You were so glad that he had turned away from you after the words left his mouth because you were a moment away from...

"Jesus, Y/N.", Tina's voice made you blink a couple of times. You felt her finger on your palms, and your gaze followed her touch. The chopping board was covered in blood. You must have lost track of your movements and senses. Trying too hard to keep your composure. Or maybe Richie's words hurt worse than the cut palm. "Cover for me, Sydney", you muttered, pulling the towel from your shoulder and pressing it to the wound. "Don't you need...", she tried to interfere. "Just fucking cover for me, please".

Slamming the freezer door shut, you let your back hit the side shelf. God, you were glad Carmy wasn't here. That call from the butcher couldn't have come at a better time. Richie was your headache to carry. Adding that to Carmen's shoulders won't help. He had hated you from the moment you showed up. You always cared too much and too little in his eyes. You tried to reason with him. He was grieving too, but fuck was he an ass when he wanted to be. And he wanted to be most of the time. Angry tears ran down your cheeks. You were just so fucking tired. So tired of it all. Of the shouting. Of the worrying.

"We don't have time. Where the fuck is she? The vegetables won't cook themselves", Carmy's voice ran through the freezer. You pressed your fingers into your eyes, gritting your teeth for a moment before stepping out. "On them, chef", you called out, wrapping the bandage around your hand messily. As long as it stopped the blood, it would have to do. And Carmy was a split second away from shouting again until his eyes fell on your palm.

"What the fuck happened?", he asked, marching forward. Forgetting all the corners, behinds, and whatnot. "Nothing happened", you muttered, turning to Sydney, "I'll take it from here, thanks". But Carmy caught your wrist and said, "Like hell, you will; what the fuck happened?". You knew that this all was coming from a good place, but the tone of his voice didn't soothe you. "We have shit to do, chef", you said, waving your head out of his grip and turning your back to him.

You hoped he would just walk away. Just drop it. Let it be. Let it all sizzle out. "Learn to fucking hold a knife", he grunted, his hand came into contact with your injured palm as he pressed it firmly onto the handle, making you whine in pain. "Hold it for fuck sake", he barked again, only tightening his grip as if he was blind to the blood seeping through the bandage. "I fucking am", You ripped his hand away with your other hand, pushing at his chest to get him away from you.

"Stop being a crybaby and be useful for once", Carmy's words left you defenseless. Your body froze. Cold shivers running down your back. You surely didn't hear it right. Carmy threw the knife across the table and turned his back away from you. Was he about to walk away? Just like that. Like nothing happened. "Fuck you", you threw the same bloody towel his way, "If I'm so fucking useless, feel free to find someone else", Carmy halted in his steps, but he didn't turn around. Clapping filled your ears, and you found smug-looking Richie, beaming like the promised sun today, saying, "Should have been an actress". You bit the inside of your cheek. Quickly undo your apron before storming outside.

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #the bear x you #the bear x reader

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mydearzero · 2 years

Text

Laundry Day | E.M. x Reader

Summary: Eddie tried to do his own laundry and shrunk his Hellfire shirt to a devilishly small size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to stare.

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, penetrative sex (p in v), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), grinding, dacryphilia, overstimulation

f!reader

4.8k words

When Eddie arrived at your table in the cafeteria looking like a mess, you didn't think anything of it. The boy was usually a mess, nothing strange about it. You finally glanced up and had a good look when Eddie clapped his hands together, gaining everybody's attention. You were met with the sight of his happy trail right on your eye level. You choked on seemingly nothing, hurridly looking at his face to see what he had to say.

"Today is the day, my friends. My uncle has been gone all week and will be for the rest of the weekend, soooooo... Who's coming over?" Eddie grinned. Nobody replied, and his face fell. "What? Nobody?"

Jeff mumbled something about you and him already making plans to stop by the day before, but the rest kept their mouth shut. You looked around the table, but everybody remained silent.

"What the hell are you wearing, dude?" Mike finally quipped when nobody spoke up. Eddie glanced down at his torso and quickly pulled down the Hellfire shirt, which looked like it was made for somebody roughly half his size.

"Dude, I told you. Wayne is out of town for the week. I tried washing it, but I think I fucked up. Didn't notice until I put it on. I couldn't be late again, so I'll have to make do." Eddie chuckled and took a seat next to Gareth.

You'd noticed Eddie, sure. He was handsome. Everybody and their grandma could see that. But never before today had you dared let your mind wander there. The thought had popped up a few times, but you'd religiously forced it away. He was one of your best friends, for fuck's sake.

The conversation continued, but your mind couldn't focus on anything besides the glimpse of skin you'd caught before Eddie sat down. Your mind was reeling with possibilities of what the rest of him could look like.

Why were you acting as if you'd never seen a guy without his shirt? Hadn't you gone swimming with the bunch of them just a few summers back? God, get your mind out of the gutter.

Eddie caught your distracted gaze and raised his eyebrows in question. "You good?" he mumbled. "Yeah!" Your voice was higher than you'd intended. You let out a quick cough to salvage it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" You cringed at how flustered he'd been able to make you without trying or knowing.

"Never better." Eddie winked. The bell rang, emptying the cafeteria. Eddie grabbed his bag (or whatever was left of it since junior year) and raised from the bench. You averted your eyes, trying to prevent another damned look towards the shortened hemline.

You rushed to class, making sure Eddie and Jeff were following behind. You took your regular seat near the back and sat down with a loud sigh. Your deskmate was skipping once again.

The teacher started taking attendance but your attention was gone in an instant. You let your gaze fall back on Eddie. He was leaning forward, his head resting on his crossed arms, shirt riding up his back. He was sitting at the perfect watching angle; diagonally in front of you.

There were dimples in his lower back. You were discovering things about yourself today, because shit, you definitely liked that. A tattoo threatened to poke out from under his waistband, trailing from his hips to his waist. That too piqued your interest. It must've been a recent addition.

Whatever Jeff was whispering made Eddie snigger, which made his shoulders shake. He leaned back against the chair and stretched his arms above his head, yawning audibly. You were done for. The shirt raised to his waist, revealing the rest of the tattoo. Your legs crossed of their own admission when his hands rested behind his head lazily, pushing out his chest.

Your fixation was cut short when a set of fingers snapped right in front of your face. "Should Mr Munson get up here? Maybe then you'll concentrate. It's me you should be watching, not your silly little high-school crush. Pay attention." Your jaw dropped at the teacher's insinuation before turning to look at Eddie.

Eddie wore a confused smile, offering you a questioning expression. You shrugged, but your face reddened. You'd been caught and called out.

It wasn't even a crush. The teacher made it way bigger of a deal than it was. The minuscule Hellfire shirt just brought out Eddie's best features. Was it not ingrained in humans to observe?

You tried your best to pay attention to anyone, anything but Eddie for the rest of class. Emphasis on tried. You could see Eddie sneaking glimpses at you occasionally in your peripheral, but you refused to acknowledge his existence. Your eyes met Jeff's a couple of times, who was just as confused by the situation as Eddie.

Luckily you had no more classes with the object of today's desires for the rest of the day. You wanted to jam your fingers between the door of your locker, just to feel something besides desire for one of your friends.

When changing out of your gym uniform, an image of Eddie taking the shorts off you managed to creep inside your head. You shivered when you envisioned his ring-clad hands sliding down your thighs. You panicked when you realized you'd been staring into your locker with your shorts in hand a tad too long.

Why did the thought of Eddie's hands have the ability to make you freeze on the spot? Why did you keep pulling up the vision of his shirt riding up and revealing the trail of hair adorning his abdomen?

The mental questions continued as you packed up and strolled to the parking lot. You tossed your bags in the back of your car and buckled yourself in before taking a moment to breathe and rest your head between your hands on the steering wheel.

You shrieked as someone opened the passenger door. "Damn it, Jeff! You can't just get in my car! Fuck!" You smacked the steering wheel as you tried to soothe your racing heart.

"We agreed yesterday you'd drive me to Eddie's so we could jam!" Jeff yelled back in the same tone you'd given him. He dropped his guitar case on the back seat and buckled his seatbelt. You paused and remembered yesterday during lunch when you'd indeed promised Jeff a ride to Eddie's. You liked watching the band practice and create music, so it wasn't hard to agree on. You apologized quickly and noticed Eddie getting into his van across the lot.

"Don't worry about me! I'm worried about you. What happened between the two of you? He's not telling me anything." Jeff pressed as he motioned to Eddie. He elaborated when you were obviously confused. "You know, the whole thing in Geometry?"

You'd kind of hoped that the incident had been long forgotten, but evidently, it hadn't. "I was just spacing out in Eddie's general direction. You know how teachers like to exaggerate." You turned on the engine when you saw Eddie drive off, trailing behind him.

"You were definitely staring, to be fair. But hey! Eddie's a good-looking fellow. And he kind of has a thing for you, so I just assumed." Jeff shrugged. A thing? For you? Since when?

The rest of the drive to the trailer park was quiet. You let Jeff's comment simmer on a small stove in the back of your mind. Now was not the time to let it boil. You parked beside Eddie and let yourself in. A light drizzle formed, threatening to fall down from the sky.

"Hey! We're here!" Jeff shouted. You made yourself comfortable on the couch, knowing you were welcome to do so. You'd been in Eddie's trailer plenty of times. But somehow, this time felt different.

"I'll be right there!" Eddie shouted from his bedroom. You got up to go pour some drinks for yourself and the boys. "You want anything, Jeff?" He let you know he 'just wanted some water, thanks.'

"Eddie?" You called. "Yes, dear?" Sounded from right behind you as a hand found the small of your back. You whipped your face around, only for Eddie's to be mere inches from it. "Jesus..." You whispered as you put a hand over your heart. "Still just me, darling." Eddie winked as he reached for a bottle of lighter fluid in the cupboard above your head.

You closed your eyes and held your breath as his chest brushed against you. "Sorry." His strained voice came from above you as he tried to reach for the bottle. You turned around in an attempt to shimmy away, heart beating out of your chest. Big mistake. His shirt had ridden up to just above his waist which now filled the entirety of your vision. You were caged between the counter and Eddie. The choked cry that came out of you was too sudden to be repressed.

His arms shot down, eyes wide. "You okay? Did I step on your toe?" You shook your head no, with your lips pressed together, not daring to make another noise. Your expression was one of complete horror as you walked back to the couch and handed Jeff his water.

"You drink it. I think you need it more than me." You realized Jeff was probably in the most awkward situation of his life after admitting Eddie apparently had a 'thing' for you. He got up without a word and grabbed his unopened guitar case. You pulled his arm with a pleading look. Please don't go. He just wiggled his eyebrows and turned to Eddie. "Bro, I just remembered I promised my mom I'd pick up my sister. I'm so sorry. See you tomorrow at Hellfire!"

And with the thud of the door slamming close, you were alone with Eddie.

"Did that not sound like a shit excuse to you?" Eddie laughed when he finally retreated from the kitchen. You nodded and laughed sheepishly. You felt all your muscles tighten under his gaze.

"So, you have a silly high-school crush on me, hmm?" Eddie chuckled when he sat down next to you. You couldn't help but smile. Of course, he wouldn't beat around the bush. "Yeah, apparently I do." The sound of the rain increasing outside caught your attention. Hopefully, Jeff had come home in time.

You turned to look at Eddie as he leaned back on the couch. His stupid shirt rode up again, and your eyes betrayed you, begging for another look at his abdomen. They darted back to his, but a smirk had already formed on his face. You crossed your legs and tried to conceal the way your breath was quicking, but there was no use.

"I think I'm starting to like my new look. You?" He raised his hands to gesture to his torso. He spread his legs as he took a long drag of his cigarette. Your mouth gaped as you openly goggled. "Uh, yeah. Looks, uh, good. Looks good. Great. What the fuck." You stammered. You placed your hands over your eyes and let yourself sink into the couch. You gave up.

"Looks great, huh?" He blew a cloud of smoke up at the ceiling. "You fucking know it does, Eddie." You moaned, giving him a death glare. "I know, I know... How could I not? You've been fucking drooling all day. Quite the confidence booster, I must say." His cigarette-free hand found its way onto your thigh confidently.

"Jeff claims you have a 'thing' for me." Your fingers raised in a weak attempt at air quotes, but you found your brain preferred itself to function over all other bodily functions. Eddie choked a laugh as he'd just gone for another drag of his cigarette. "Jeff would be correct."

He took a drag and leaned closer, the hand on your thigh inching higher. "Been drooling over you a lot longer than today, sweetheart." His voice was hoarse, clouded with smoke that entered your nostrils as he spoke.

"Eddie..." You whispered, head leaning to the side. You weren't even sure what you were asking him to do. His lips made their way to your neck, leaving a trail of pecks until he reached the spot directly beneath your ear. "Give me the word." His breath made you shiver.

"Give me the word, and I'll fucking ruin you, baby."

Your mind flashed back to earlier today. You knew you'd been lying to yourself about your attraction to Eddie for some time, but did you really want to risk it? Was this not just you being touch-starved and desperate? Desperate for Eddie.

"Please." Your mind was made up. It was only a breath, but he'd heard you loud and clear like the thunder roaring outside.

Eddie didn't waste a second as he put out his cigarette hastily. He grabbed both your thighs and slid you onto your back effortlessly. His hands found your hips as you placed yours on his chest. "Last chance to back out, angel."

"I want you to wreck me, Eddie."

"Fuck, alright." He muttered under his breath before finally placing his lips on yours. He took all the air from your lungs with desperation. His hands made quick work of your clothes. Everything but your panties.

He was about to reach down and take off his shirt, but you stopped him. "Not yet. I wanna do it. Wanted to rip that ridiculous shirt off you all day." You confessed when you pulled him back down for more kisses. He laughed against your lips. "If I knew all it took was to rile you up was showing a little skin, I would've been labelled the town skank, not the freak. Maybe both, if we're being honest."

You giggled and took hold of the necklace dangling in front of your face. You flipped the plectrum over and noticed something you'd never noticed before; it was engraved. "It's my mom's initials." He mumbled against your neck. "But, no time to get sappy right now." He ground his hips against yours, and your mind blanked.

You felt Eddie groan against your throat, his hips unable to stop seeking friction. His hands made their way up your chest, testing the water. He glanced up at you to ask permission, and you nodded. "I need your words if we're gonna do this, baby." He kissed your lips and awaited your answer. "Touch me." He gave you a harsh gaze. "Please, Eddie."

"Good girl, so eager for me." He pinched your nipple. Your reaction was instant, whining for him to continue. You pressed your hips up, trying to return to the rhythm Eddie had set before. A wicked laugh escaped him as he tutted. "You're so fucking desperate. It's adorable, really."

You wanted to object, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth. You were so desperate for him, it was pathetic. Eddie did something to you you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Your chest was tight with anticipation, awaiting his next move.

When he didn't seem to be taking any action, you went to put your hands on his abdomen. You'd been fixated on it throughout the day, after all. Eddie gave your hands a disciplinary smack and grabbed your wrists, placing them against the armrest of the couch.

"If you want me to continue, these are gonna have to stay right there. We're doing this my way, sweetheart. They move, I stop." His teeth nibbled at your earlobe teasingly. You wanted nothing more than to roam your hands all over him. You didn't know which was worse, not being able to touch, or Eddie stopping whatever he wanted to do.

You felt his tongue lick from under your earlobe to your nipple, taking it between his teeth. Your hips stuttered, pushing against Eddie in the best way. His hand crept down to the hem of your panties, toying with it. You were no longer in control of the noises escaping you, whines blending in with the sound of thunder. "Please, Eddie." Your eyes were squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed, frustrated at his deathly slow phase.

The smile on his face was taunting, almost sinister. He didn't answer your plead. His mouth switched its attention from one nipple to the other. He was leaning on one hand while the other was touching you everywhere except where you wanted.

When his fingers finally breached the barrier of your underwear, you sighed from the deepest part of your chest. At this point, you were breathing Eddie. He was all you felt. All you wanted to feel. You wanted him to devour you whole.

"Been wanting to feel this pussy since fucking forever. You feel incredible, baby. Can't wait to bury my cock inside you. Gonna fuck you till you cry." Eddie was rambling thoughtlessly as his fingers stroked between your folds with the softest touch he could manage. He was torturing you, going as slow as his body would allow.

The now infamous Hellfire shirt caught your attention when Eddie's hands held the hem. You whimpered, your hands reaching forward to help him take it off. He stopped in his tracks, raising his eyebrows pointedly at your hands. You almost felt like crying and put your hands back against the armrest, frustration raging through your blood and straight to your nethers.

He finally seemed to be undertaking real action, gradually sliding your underwear down your legs. Your lungs searched for air when he pushed your legs open achingly slow, glancing up at you with an ominous smile.

He bent down and licked a strip from your knee to your inner thigh. "Keep those pretty legs spread for me, baby. No hands or I'll stop." If you'd known Eddie was gonna be such a tease, you might've reconsidered your actions. Patience might be a virtue, but it was definitely not one of your talents. His pace was tormenting you, and he was enjoying it to the fullest.

The moan that left your mouth when his mouth finally made contact with your clit was primal at best. Your hands shot forward to grab his hair, a reflex, but all movement stopped. "Please, Eddie. Please. Fuck."

He'd barely even touched you and he had you writhing, precisely how he wanted you; desperate and begging. Your voice was already so hoarse and fucked out. Eddie smirked to himself when he thought about how you'd sound when he was eventually finished with you.

Your hands were once against pushed above your head and Eddie went right back to it, circling your clit with his tongue. Your head snapped back against the couch. You had to focus to keep your hands where Eddie demanded, as you didn't know if you'd survive him stopping again, even for just a second.

You couldn't see what he was doing when you felt him shuffle, still mouthing at your cunt. You heard a clatter of light metal and quickly realized he'd taken off his rings. Your thighs instinctively pressed together when you finally felt his finger at your entrance.

"You're fucking soaking for me, aren't you, darling? Want it so bad." He murmured when his mouth made its way back up your torso. You gasped when he pushed two fingers inside with ease. "You act so innocent, but you're filthy, huh? So desperate for cock. God, look at you. So good for me. If it weren't for the thunder, the whole park would've heard you by now, baby. Begging me to make you cum." His fingers sped up and curled in the absolute best spot. The pitch of your whines got higher and higher with every push of his fingers.

"Cum for me." He whispered in your ear as he resorted to ravaging your clit. You couldn't breathe. Your legs trembled as you felt a familiar tightening in your gut. The entire room felt like it was spinning when you came on Eddie's fingers. His teeth latched onto your neck, sucking violently. How you were gonna explain the state of it in the morning was a worry for later.

Your chest heaved, but Eddie was no better off. He was panting, jeans now so tight they must be cutting off his circulation. It was only now you'd realized one of his hands had resorted to pinning yours above your head. He was spread out on top of you, breath laboured. He was as much of a mess as you were.

When your eyes finally met, your cheeks had the audacity to hog all the blood in your body. Were you getting flustered after this man had given you the best, most intense orgasm and was still positioned between your legs? The sheen in his eyes was one you didn't recognize. Greed. Hunger, maybe.

When he freed your wrists, he looked lost in thought. You experimentally put your hands out to see if he would do anything about it. He didn't. Your hands were franticly trying to grasp him. You finally got them on the hem of his top and tugged at it greedily. When your fingers grazed the exquisite hair on his stomach, both of you shuddered. Your mouth had almost watered at the sight earlier today, and you were finally getting what you wanted.

He raised his arms. You pulled the bane of your fucking existence off him and tossed it out of sight. You hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled him in for a kiss, palming him through his jeans. "I need to- I need. I want you, now." Your mind was a jumbled mess as you tried to make clear what you wanted.

Eddie laughed cynically. "You're such a needy little slut." He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear endearingly. "Can't even talk anymore, can you?"

He allowed you to ignore his comments and reach for his belt. Your fingers struggled to unbuckle it, trembling in anticipation and shock after your orgasm. You couldn't help but lean down and lick the strip coming from his waistband. Eddie's eyes rolled back when he felt your mouth exploring. Your eyes fell upon the tattoo you'd spotted earlier in class. The perfect route to follow with your tongue.

You gazed up at Eddie while you licked gruellingly slow from his waist to his navel. His nostrils were flared, and his knuckles white. You pushed his jeans down and he stepped out of them, only leaving his boxers. You resorted to leaving innocent pecks, following yet another perfect road down to his pelvis.

You held his balls through his underwear, nosing at his length through the fabric teasingly. His fingers wove themselves in your hair, perhaps holding on a tad too tight. Your mouth ghosted over the head. A groan finally left his mouth when he could feel your hot breath through the fabric. You'd been internally begging to hear him. How he'd had the self-control to remain quiet until now had your mind reeling.

His grip on your hair tightened, and you received the message loud and clear. "What happened to patience, hmm?" You mumbled against his clothed cock with an inebriated laugh. You fondled a bit more, but suddenly, he yanked. A shriek left you as you gasped and looked up at him with a slacked jaw. You let out a pathetic whine.

"Don't be a brat. You'd do well to remember who's in control here, sweetheart." You'd never seen Eddie this serious, face void of any legible emotion. A knot brewed in your stomach. It almost scared you, almost, but it turned you on to an extent you weren't willing to divulge.

You'd caught glimpses of this side of Eddie. You'd assumed it was part of his act as Dungeon Master, ruthlessly slaughtering his friends. But it was becoming obvious it wasn't an act. It was a part of Eddie that was sadistic. A part that enjoyed the control he had over the game and his friends' emotions.

Your face was back to being practically buried in his underwear. Your cheeks flushed when you noticed Eddie's proud stare... You were fucking drooling, literally. You moved to remove the last piece of clothing, but it looked like he had other plans. You were on your feet and inside Eddie's room in a flash.

Eddie pulled his boxers down after harshly pushing you onto his mattress. There was no time to process his actions when he pushed you backwards, covering your body with his own. You saw his hand shake as he reached for his bedside table. Condom? "I'm clean." You breathed. "I know, baby," was all he replied.

It wasn't a condom he'd reached for. Handcuffs. Of course, Eddie kept handcuffs in his bedroom. You heard them rattle with the shaking of his hands. Was he nervous? Or was he just as desperate to get inside you as you were? He took your hand and cuffed only one hand to the headboard. "You're gonna smack that pretty pussy of yours while I fuck you." He quipped with a wink when he caught your bewilderment.

He pinned your hips to the bed when you wouldn't stop squirming. He took a deep breath before lining himself up with your entrance, grunting when he eased his way in. He offered a few testing thrusts before setting a comfortable pace, deep and swift. "What are you waiting for, slut. Slap your cunt for me."

Your actions were hesitant, but Eddie took your free hand in his own and brought it down on your clit with full force. You cried out at the contact and tried to grab ahold of something to steady yourself, but Eddie held your wrist and used it as leverage to push himself deeper, faster. You felt your chest bounce ludicrously. Eddie revelled in the sight. He leaned close and placed a kiss between them before looking you dead in the eyes.

"Smack or I stop, brat. And something tells me you wouldn't want me to stop." Another slap from Eddie's hand was delivered to the sensitive bud. You tried to match the rhythm but couldn't control the movements your body made to get you to stop. The smacks were weak, nothing like the ones Eddie delivered, but he seemed content when frustrated tears formed in your eyes.

"You're gonna cry already? That's cute." Eddie grunted. The smacks you gave yourself relented, but he seemed satisfied you'd become a teary-eyed, mumbly, whiny mess. He let you recover, thrusting agonizingly slow.

Just when your breathing slowed and your eyes glossed over, he combined a brutal movement of his dick with ruthless fingers against your clit. "Cum on my cock. I know you can do it." He delivered a blow with his free hand to your thigh.

Tears rolled down your face as you screamed his name. You saw white as he continued pounding and stroking. You tried to pull yourself up with the hand tied to the headboard. "S' too much," you cried, tears wetting Eddie's pillow.

"You can take it, baby. C'mon, one more, for me?" He cooed at your whines. You could see he was close. "You look so good when you cry for me. Gonna make me cum, baby. Wanna fill you up so bad." He was rambling, closing in on his release. He bent forward and took your nipple between his teeth, pinching the other with his free hand. The strokes on your clit made you twitch, but your third orgasm was nearing.

Your body convulsed, tightening around Eddie, whose hips stuttered and came to a halt as he filled you with his cum. You felt like jelly, uncertain how you'd ever find the ability to walk again. A lasting tingle resonated from your fingertips to your toes.

Eddie eventually pulled out when his laboured breathing had settled. He took a smug look at his cum leaking out of you before plopping down next to you and pulling you into him.

You lay in comfortable silence for a minute before Eddie broke it. "So... how're we doing with the silly high-school crush?"

"You're fucking unbelievable, Munson."

"I sure do hope the fucking was unbelievable, seeing you came thrice." A pillow made contact with his face, your free hand being the culprit. "Can you uncuff me, you vain bastard?" He chuckled and nodded, turning to his bedside table to rummage for the key. He expertly unlocked the handcuffs in a swift movement.

You rubbed your sore wrist and scanned the floor for something to clean yourself with. Your eyes fell on the tiny Hellfire shirt.

"Remind your uncle to never let you do laundry again." You grumbled as you picked it up and wiped yourself down to the best of your ability.

"Oh, you still think it was an accident?"

...

"What?"

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