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januaryembrs · 27 days

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THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

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'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7.

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now.

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included.

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings.

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up.

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt.

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t.

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around.

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help.

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover.

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,”

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,”

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her.

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard.

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her.

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside.

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?”

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again.

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her.

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances.

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece.

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare.

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching.

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up.

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms.

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly.

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help.

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face.

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried.

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing.

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home.

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her.

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic.

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed.

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it.

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking.

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed.

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her.

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more.

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm.

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few.

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book.

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,”

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation.

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?”

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend.

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words.

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised.

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse.

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out.

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit.

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t.

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,”

Nothing.

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of.

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot.

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver.

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,”

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then.

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,”

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out.

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle.

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before.

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise.

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,”

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished.

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack.

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese.

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this.

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her.

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,”

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?”

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid.

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty.

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there.

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her.

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now.

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound.

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too.

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning.

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol.

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips.

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.”

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile.

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,”

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks.

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway.

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in.

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later.

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing.

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months.

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was.

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again.

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door.

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time.

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years.

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab.

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed.

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was.

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans.

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!”

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with.

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought.

This never happened.

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning.

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s.

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage.

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more.

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom.

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit.

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down.

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her.

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought.

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her.

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke.

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,”

“Hm?”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks.

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,”

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her.

He felt like a fool.

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.”

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,”

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth.

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly.

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.”

He would be lying if he said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder.

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock.

She kissed him. She had kissed him.

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again.

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together.

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep.

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow.

–

taglist:

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#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew grey gubler x reader

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 8 months

Text

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction

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simonrillleyyysss · 12 days

Note

Rough sex Simon this…rough sex Simon that….what about soft sex Simon?!

Simon who holds your hand, who softly brushes your hair out of the way to see your pretty face and place kisses on your forehead. He holds you so gently, as if you were porcelain. (This could probably apply to everyone but I feel like it really sticks to Simon’s character 🫶)

Soft Simon has been rotting my brain as of late, XoXo 🫶💋

thank you for your request, nonnie!! (✧ω✧)

sometimes, all he needs to do is just unwind, come down and be treated humbly and dotingly by his beloved, and what better way to do that than gentle sex?

his bare cock brushing against the skin your thigh while your lips locked together in a tight kiss, large palm encasing the side of your face as his tongue moved rhythmically against yours, listening to the bed squeal beneath him, listening to your soft little giggle.

‘gonna need a new-‘

a soft gasp as his tugged down your bra, flesh of his tongue circling around the perky nuh, humming lowly beneath his breath, he holds you so hesitantly—thumb gently rubbing against your cheek in an act of comfort, shushing you softly, brushing loose strands of hair away from your gaze.

‘don’t need anythin’..just us, awhrite’?’

he’s so comforting when he finally sinks himself in, gently soothing you with pecks across your collarbones and jaw—cock nestling itself familiarly inside your velvety cunt, just admiring how gorgeous you were, sprawled out on the bed lazily with messy hair, sweaty and covered in little purple grazes, lipstick smudged and vibrant red kiss marks surrounding the flesh of your breasts.

the way his cock brushed against your cervix had you melting into the cozy sheets with a whine, legs wrapping around his structured hips; watching the mammoth lean himself right down into you to nestle his head in the crook of your neck—hips rocking back and forth fluidly, not stuttering or stopping.

you didn’t even have to speak, the intimacy of the moment said it all. from the way he gently held the curve of your ass in his rough hands like dough, or the way you gasped and wept into his shoulder, it spoke a thousand words, he had your name on his tongue like a chant,

a prayer only the most devout could utter as you clenched around his cock, cunt fluttering as simon groaned out, emptying his cum inside you, standing up slightly taller to brush his hands against your stomach—holding your jaw in his hands before placing a soft kiss onto it.

‘tired?’

‘mmmmh.. check argos’ websitefor those beds..’

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ddejavvu · 8 months

Note

Omggg I love the fic of drunk reader kissing Spencer, could you write a second part to that? Maybe he takes reader home and she asks him to stay over and she wakes up all giggly and embarrassed (even tho she doesn’t regret it) after seeing his face stained w the lipstick? Thank you🥰

part 1

Spencer wakes up to the distinct feel of something wet and slimy on his face, two sensations that he's not prepared for or happy with.

He blinks his eyes open and you're hovering above him, one of his cheeks cupped in your hand while you smear a makeup wipe over his forehead.

"Oh, Spence," You fret, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up, I thought you'd be tired enough to sleep through it."

Spencer's such a light sleeper that a gentle breeze could wake him. But he's not going to tell you that; he doesn't even think that he can. The feeling of his face held so delicately in your hand while you tend to his rather messy skin is something that's managing to short circuit his typically agile brain, and all he can do is watch as you wipe away your lipstick from the night prior.

"I got you good," You muse, tone cautiously amused. He manages a bashful smile and nod, and you target a kiss mark beside his left eye now.

"I was really drunk," You laugh bashfully, "Sorry, Spence. I- uh, I saw the picture Hotch took, he sent it to our group chat. I'm sure you didn't want me crawling all over you. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable.

"No," Spencer isn't good at speaking right now, but he knows he has to, "No, don't worry about it. Everyone's more wild when they're drunk."

"Except for Rossi," You reason, smudging away the final mark on his chin now, "He just gets philosophical."

Spencer sits up from where he'd been reclined on your couch, and there's an ache in his back. It was worth it though, and he hopes you don't apologize for him having to sleep on the couch.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch," You lament like clockwork.

"It's okay," Spencer insists, straightening his spine and hearing a slight pop, "I don't mind, really. I wouldn't have wanted to leave you here alone."

"In my own apartment?" You quirk a brow at him.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't throw up in your sleep," Spencer nods, "Because people can choke and die that way."

You look mildly alarmed, and Spencer thinks he needs to work on his flirting skills.

"But- uh, you didn't. Which is great." He smiles, lips pulled into a slightly curved line, and you mirror the expression.

"Great," You echo, "Do you want breakfast?"

"Uh- sure." Spencer nods, rising from the couch, "I can help make it-?"

"No, no," You rush back to him from where you'd been heading towards the kitchen, pushing at his shoulders until he falls back down onto the couch, "Just stay there, Spencer. You helped me a ton last night, I owe you one. Okay?"

He disagrees; you could never owe him anything. He'd give his all to you with no expectation in return. But he nods to appease you, "Okay."

"Okay." You repeat with a smile, and hesitantly, you lean in to kiss his now-clean cheek.

"No lipstick this time," You grin bashfully as you pull back, but his face is tinged so red that you think you're mistaken for a moment, "Thanks, Spence."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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eiightysixbaby · 9 months

Note

Wait! Rockstar!Eddie. Straddling Eddie before his show helping him put his eyeliner on, your so close to his face as you concentrate on not poking his big brown eyes. His grip on your waist is hard. He can feel you trembling and can see your hands shaking. He moves his hips on purpose making you gasp. Your wearing a skirt on purpose and he knows you don’t have anything else on underneath 😫

don’t do this to me. don’t. do. this. to me. rockstar!eddie is my weakness.

you love any excuse to help him get ready for shows, so it’s a no brainer when he asks if you’ll do his eyeliner for him. the sheer thought of him in smudged black eyeliner gets you worked up, and you don’t do a good job at hiding it. you straddle his lap where he sits on the couch in his dressing room, his big hands immediately coming to hold your waist, rings cold against your scorching skin. your hands fumble with the eyeliner pencil as you take the cap off, almost dropping it on the cushions beneath you.

Eddie almost makes you nervous when you’re so close to him like this, he’s simply too pretty to handle. you don’t know how to control yourself, getting all giddy and shy. his breathing is measured as your gentle hand comes up to draw the waxy black substance along his eyelid. you hold his face still with your other hand, trying so hard not to flinch and poke his eye out when his thumbs rub small circles on your lower back. his eyes are half-lidded when you pull the pencil away momentarily, lashes fluttering as he blinks at you expectantly. he’s so hot like this, dressed in his stage garb, confidence radiating off of him. you smudge the liner with the pads of your fingers just a little bit, perfecting the rockstar look.

you tremble as you move to the other eye, your brain using all of its power to focus on doing Eddie’s makeup rather than the feeling of his hands inching closer to your ass every second. he senses how worked up you are, rolling his hips up into you once you’ve pulled your hand away from his eye for a moment. you gasp, biting your lip between your teeth. the skimpy little skirt you’re wearing is only helping you, the fabric riding so far up your thighs and giving Eddie such easy access if he wants it. he smirks, tilting his chin up to kiss your jawline, nibbling just a little bit. you whine softly, desperately trying to finish the makeup on his other eye.

“what’s got you so worked up, sweetheart? it can’t be little old me, hm?” he purrs, rolling his hips against you once more, as if to punctuate his sentence.

“y-you’re teasing me,” you pout, putting the cap back on the eyeliner and setting it down on the table.

“oh? am I?” he taunts, craning his neck towards you again to kiss your earlobe. he sucks the delicate bit of flesh into his mouth. “I would’ve guessed this is what you wanted… considering that sorry excuse for a skirt you’re wearing,” he continues, his hot breath tickling your ear and giving you goosebumps. “…and considering you’re wearing nothing underneath, I think I would be correct,” his voice is a low rumble, fingers brushing against your bare cunt for only a moment before he draws them away.

you moan, this time grinding yourself against him. you can feel how hard he is, and you grind yourself down once more, letting the outline of his cock create perfect friction where you need it most. he just watches you with a smug smirk plastered on his lips, letting you get yourself off on him. he’s guiding your movements with strong arms and steady hands, groaning when you whimper his name. you know he has to go on stage any minute now, but you don’t really care. let him be late, let him walk on stage with your juices soaking his jeans, hickeys on his neck. he knows you’re close when your cries of his name become repetitive, just Eddie Eddie Eddie over and over, your head thrown back as your clit catches on the fabric of his jeans. eager fans waiting for the band to come onstage shout Eddie Eddie Eddie just the same, and it spurs you on to know that you’re the one that gets to have him.

you completely soak him when you cum, but it doesn’t phase him. he’s sick, and he loves it. he plays his show with soaked black denim clinging to his legs, winking at you when he spots you in the crowd. all he can think about is how good he’s gonna fuck you once the show’s over.

#leah’s got mail 💌#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson smut

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darling-zain · 10 months

Text

✮ ↳ All Eyes On Me ↰

♡ yandere! actor x gn reader pt 2♡

tw/cw: obsessive love, murder, mentions of blood, slight emotional manipulation

authors notes: this took me forever i'm sorryyyy editing is a bitch :( but I'm really proud of this one!! hope you'll like it too <3

"Why weren't you watching?" His voice is cold and filled with contempt as he glares at you, his nails digging into the skin of his palm.

"I-I was! Why wouldn't I watch, I've been backstage this whole ti-" Your voice is soft, trying to quell the fury in his gaze.

"Liar!" He steps closer to you, causing you to back away. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "You weren't watching. When I was offstage, I looked for you behind the curtains. But you were never there." He's now right in front of you, grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut. "All those training sessions, all those late nights memorizing my lines till it felt like my head was going to burst, all the blood, sweat and tears- It was all for you!" His breathing is heavy and his voice is a low growl, his light tan skin flushed with anger.

"Aurelius, I...I had no idea..." Your voice trails off, eyes gazing into his with regret. "But, I did watch! It's just that near the end I got a phone call, so I had to leave the theatre to pick it up and I got distracted!"

"I don't need your excuses." He spat, glaring down at you. "I understand. I get that I'm just another actor you have to work with; you're just here for the paycheck. And that's fine!" He backs up, a deranged smile on his face. "But could you at least pretend that you care? Just a bit?"

"I do care! why wouldn't I care, I've been working with you on this for months! Please, no need to get so upset." Your words cut through him like a knife, and his eyes widen with disbelief.

"'No need to get so upset'?! How can you even say that right now?! I've put so many hours into this, spent so much time on this all for your approval, and when the day finally comes you don't even stay to watch?! I'm not just upset, I'm-" he takes a deep breath, shaking slightly. "Heartbroken."

"Aurelius, please, listen to me. The reason why I couldn't stay is because I got a call from my best friend, and they sounded really upset, so I needed to go help them... I'm sorry."

He turns towards you, a look of cold, pure, disbelief on his face. His eyes widen as he mutters something under his breath. The room is so quiet that even though he whispered, you could hear every word clearly.

"You missed my show...for someone else?" He takes a step back. "You missed my show...because someone told you to?" The silence is thick between the two of you, the same deranged smile appearing on his face. He chuckles, his laughter becoming louder and more insane. "Are you serious?! After all that time we spent working, you left me for your friend?!" Tears roll down his face, smearing his makeup. He stumbles back into the sound table and clutches onto it while trying to regain his composure.

"Auri, you have to understand! It was an emergency, I had no other choice!" The desperation in your voice is evident, you need him to realize the severity of the situation. You walk up to him and hesitantly place a hand on his shoulder. Your breath hitches in your throat when he smacks your hand away, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers over his eyes.

"Don't," His voice is shaky, yet still cold and unforgiving. "Don't touch me. You don't deserve to after what you've done. I know how much I mean to you now, I don't need your lame explanations." He straightens up before walking out the door, standing in the frame for a second. "Bandaids don't fix bullet holes." He departs with a swish of his hair, leaving you standing alone in the now deathly quiet sound booth.

He grabs his stuff, slipping a small object into his bag as he hurriedly exits the theatre, wiping off his smudged makeup. He doesn't even take the time to change out of his costume, his brain is too panicked to even think about anything except what you said.

"Excuse me, you work with y/n right?" A person with a panicked expression walks up to him, biting their nails worriedly. His angry expression immediately changes to one of calmness.

"Yes, I do. why do you ask?" He puts on his signature winning smile as he bends down to their height.

"Well, I was with them earlier when they said they had to leave, and they didn't even tell me where before they just left! I know they work here, so I was wondering if you've seen them?" Your friend seems really troubled at your sudden disappearance, but Aurelius had other things on his mind.

"Actually, I think I have an idea of where they might be. Follow me!" His charming disposition and comfortable aura would make anyone follow him without question, including your friend. They started to walk together, the silence between them tense because of the worry that accompanied it. He lead them up and down roads, into busy lanes and quiet walkways. Eventually, they landed in front of a large forest.

"Wait... this is their favourite forest! You're a genius, I don't know why I didn't think to come here sooner!" Aurelius looked at your friend with exquisitely veiled contempt, their eyes shining with hope disgusting him.

"Oh, really?" He feigns surprise, not wanting to give away his true intentions just yet. "I didn't know! I just remember seeing them come here one time after work, I didn't know it was their favourite." He was lying. He knew everything about you. Your coffee order, the route you took home after work every day, the position in which you slept, everything. "Shall we head in?" He asked politely, extending a hand toward them. They nodded, walking into the dimly lit forest.

"I don't think I got your name, sorry."

He scoffs inwardly, berating them in his mind. "How do you not know my name? Me, the Aurelius Yavuz? You should be able to tell from one glance alone!" He thought, but he responded kindly regardless. "It's Aurelius. Aurelius Yavuz. And you?"

"Carmen! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yavus!" The way your friend sounds so cheerful disgusts him.

"Likewise," he mumbles, his voice sounding slightly pompous from their ignorance of his status. He brings their attention elsewhere, just wanting to get this whole ordeal over and done with as soon as possible. "I think I heard a noise over that way, would you like to check it out?" He points towards a dark corner of the forest with a small clearing in the middle.

"That looks like their hiding spot...yes, I think they might be there! quick!" Carmen starts to run into the thicket of trees, leaving Aurelius behind. In the dim light of the evening sun peeking through the trees, his eyes glow with a menacing aura. A confident smirk makes its way onto his face as he follows behind them. He pulls a small knife out of his bag, the shining metal glinting in the light.

"Aurelius...they're...not here..." Carmen's disappointed voice emanates through the forest. He slowly walks toward them, the satisfied look on his face making him seem even more insane than before.

"Aww, now isn't that a shame~?" He steps even closer, now almost nose-to-nose with them. "Don't worry," He brings his arm behind their shoulder, placing his hand right behind their neck. "You won't have to even think about them anymore." In a flash, Carmen collapses to the ground, the once pristine silver knife now tainted with potent red sin.

He dusts off his hand, wiping the blood on the knife onto the backside of his costume. He scoffs as he looks down onto the now still body of your beloved friend, kicking their body into the bushes beside him. He walks away and out of the forest, taking the same path you always take to your residence. He stops in front of your house, knocking on the door. He takes a deep breath and forcefully makes his eyes look teary, needing every tactic he knows to make you believe him. You open the door, stepping back when you see him.

"Aurelius, why are you-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that. I just...was so upset, I thought this show meant something to you! But, I understand that you have your priorities, so I'm not mad anymore. Forgive me?" He gazes into your eyes, false tears now pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Auri..." You embrace him tightly, crying into his chest. "I'm so sorry! I should've stayed, I should've watched, I didn't mean to hurt you that bad, I'm sorry!" You can't see his face as you're sobbing into his shirt, not able to see the knowing smirk on his lips. He pats your head kindly, cooing at you to help you calm down.

"Hey, hey, don't cry... it's okay now. Everything's been taken care of, now it's just you," he kisses the top of your head, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a sharp glint flashes through his eyes.

"and me."

taglist!! @lasagna-goob @izizzl @skylark144 @cyphertryagain

#zain>>works #tw yandere #tw obsessive love #tw murder #tw blood ment #yandere blog #yandere writing #soft yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

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mintmatcha · 4 months

Text

I cant edit my draft on the og ask :(((

cw: cis fem reader, mild pet play

"Sero told me what you said."

You have a tipsy sway in your walk, those sky high heels teetering against your kitchen linoleum. Your drinks have been replaced with water and your make up has been smudged, but Denki thinks you look hotter than ever, lit by the warm lighting of your own home. You place a hand on his shoulder and lean in, eyes never leaving his.

"You wanna fuck me so bad, don't you?" Your eyes are dark with want. Glitter atill clings to your cheeks. "Come on, don't you?"

Sero's down the hall and in the shower, rinsing off the night. He was gracious enough to let Denki sleep on the couch and now that same man is pressed up against his girlfriend. Guilt racks through the blonde's chest as he watches the hallway, waiting to be caught.

You see where he's looking and laugh. "Don't worry. Sero said I can keep you."

Your fingers loop under to strap of your dress and pull it down over your shoulder. The curve of your chest strains against the fabric, pressing your cleavage even higher than before.

"You just have to admit you want me."

Denki can't find the words, as simple as they are. He just acts. He's gripping for your dress, both hoping to pull it down and inch it up, trying to slide his knee between your thighs-

But your hand against his forehead locks him inches from you.

"Bark for it," you say, those pretty lips tugged into a shit eating grin.

"What?"

"Bark like a dog." You repeat it like it's nothing, "And I'll give you a treat."

Denki hesitates. His heart is thrumming in his chest-- so hard that he can feel it in his cock. His whole body is vibrating for you and whatever you'll give him.

"Uh, woof?" he tries. It's embarrassing, but he almost... likes that.

"Like you mean it.'

The blonde clears his throat, then tries again, deeper, more serious this time. It resonates a bit in his lungs, thrums in parts of his body he hadn't been aware could vibrate.

"Aw, good job, puppy," you coo, "Now get on your knees."

Denki had always considered himself a slut. He was the master of his own sexuality, driven by his own desires and wants, but something in his brain goes pink as he obeys. The leash is in your hands as he kneels, chin tilted to watch you as you gather your dress up and expose your panties. They are nude and full coverage, but the way they hug the curve of you labia makes Denki's cock kick out of pure need.

"Can you smell how wet I am?" You spread your legs slightly as you lean against the kitchen counter, steadying yourself on your elbows.

Denki walks forward on to his hands until he can feel the heat of your cunt against his lips. He can practically taste you, the musk and the sweet and the salt all clinging to the air. He can see the damp stop in your crotch from this angle: either your excitement or Sero's cum from earlier. Without a thought, he buries himself in the plush of your thighs and sucks. Your body tenses and curls at the pressure, a moan punched from your chest, but all Denki can think is how he can definitely taste his best friend's cum on your pussy-

and how much he likes that.

"Oh, good dog." Your fingers curl into his hair and pull his mouth deeper. "Good fucking dog."

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strvngeweather · 3 months

Text

It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him. “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend. You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger). “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x black reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #smut #bts smut #bts x reader fic #jimin x black reader

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knavves · 11 months

Text

HIT MY BRAIN, DGAF ft various bllk men — which of the bllk boys r absolutely mf hung ?

wc: 0.8k ノ cw + tw : nsfw (18+). fem reader. blow jobs. size kink(?). dacryphilia. masturbation. use of pet names. mirror sex. belly/throat bulges. dirty talk. praise. riding. mentions of blood.

shidou is definitely huge and he knows it too. "too big for you, pretty? i know you can take more than that." he's already bulging in your throat even though he's not even fully sheathed inside your mouth, so heavy on your tongue. the stretch of your jaw fucking burns but his groans are so hot that the slight pain doesn't bother you so much. one of your hands wrap around the base of his cock, stroking whatever you couldn't reach with your mouth. the other one is knuckles deep inside your own pussy, wishing he was buried deep somewhere else. "there you go. fuck so good, such a good girl for me." the slurping and gagging noises that ricochet off the walls are downright filthy but he loves it, just as much as he loves your runny and smudged mascara. he places his large hand on the back of your head, shoving you down further on his length as he shoots his load down your throat. hearing you choke and seeing you struggle to swallow the mouthful of his cum has him hard all over again.

you're gonna have to hear me out on karasu, he is absolutely hung i know it. he loves to have you pressed up against the dresser, the wooden furniture rocking and thudding into the floor with each strong thrust of his hips. he places you in front of the mirror too, a firm grip on your jaw to make you ogle at yourself in the reflection. your eyes lock on the way your tits bounce in suite of the loud slapping noises. the drool that escapes from the corners of your opened mouth that spills uncontrollable moans is downright embarrassing but you can't reach up to wipe it, not when you need to stabilize yourself as he brutally pounds into you. but your eyes are especially drawn to where he's bulging in your abdomen. "cryin already?" he coos into your ear, his warm breath fanning your ear. he was right, you noted as you peered back at yourself in the mirror to see fat tears spilling over. you drop your head to look away from your fucked out self making him click his tongue in annoyance, "nuh uh, baby. keep yer eyes on yourself. look so beautiful."

aiku thinks you look so cute right now, cunt fluttering and squeezing him so nicely as he sinks his cock into you. you're trembling where he has you caged beneath him, shaking your head and murmuring variations of "s too big!" and "not gonna fit, oli..". but he only shushes you, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet nothings to soothe you. "you can take it, baby. that's it.. see i knew you could." he stretches you out so so good, its no wonder several women flocked to him before he met you. but now you had him in the palm of your hand, you were the one who he came home to everyday, bending you over and drilling his fat cock into you whenever you ask. like now where he has you bent in half, legs dangling over his broad shoulders as he fucks you dumb. he has you seeing stars, pulling his cock out until just the tip is in before slamming all of his girth back into your weeping pussy.

it takes all of barou's self control to not flip you over and pound into you until you can't utter anything but his name. but regardless of his desires, he uncharacteristically takes it slow with you and lets you take your time lowering yourself onto him. it feels like he's splitting you in half, your bottom lip is tucked in between your teeth, threatening to draw blood. "you can do it. i got you, sweetheart." his voice is still gruff but his words are so unusually sweet. when you finally bottom out, he almost lets out a guttural moan at the imprint of his dick in your stomach. "feel that, baby?" he smirks when you gasp as he cruelly presses down on the bulge in your stomach. he's so deep. it takes you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of him, no matter how many times you've fucked you always struggle to take him. "atta girl." he grunts as you start bouncing in his lap, hands sliding up to your waist to dig his rough hands into your flesh. the time it took to prep you was all worth it to feel you squeeze his cock so nicely with each raise of your hips and to hear the cute whimpers that left your lips. your voices tangled with one another as he muttered between moans how tight you were. you'd squeal and curl your toes every time he'd thrust up into you, his cock slamming against your sweet spot. "cum all over my cock, baby. make a mess for me."

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strlingsav · 16 days

Text

Memories

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Meeting your ex leads you to reminiscing.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Thanks to @mykneeshurt for helping me out of my rut with this one 🫶🏻

It wasn't your wisest decision; you'd been careful thus far in the grieving process not to use poor coping mechanisms to get you through bad days, but the anonymity and seclusion of the downtown bar brought you a bit of peace. More than yoga or journaling- especially after the first sip of your drink.

You hated to admit it felt good. Even if you sat in silence and merely stared down the liquid in your glass, your brain was finally empty. You didn't want to sit with your feelings anymore, you wanted to get drunk and pretend they didn't exist.

You even contemplated trying a cigarette. Another poor decision surely wouldn't lead you any deeper into your already darkened abyss. The bearded man to your right, with one hand around a beer and the other holding a smouldering stick, made it look serene- cathartic, even. A flat expression and dull eyes, you envied his lack of awareness.

You stuck out like a sore thumb, though. You didn't meld with the horde of middle-aged men, or blue-collar workers crowded around a pool table. Your legs were crossed on the barstool, hair neatly done and makeup on your face- if it wasn't smudged yet.

It made it easy for him to spot you. As if he couldn't find you in a sea of people anyway, your appearance drew in his gaze immediately. His heart dropped to his stomach, a rapid increase in his pulse that throbbed in his throat.

He hadn't seen you for years. Not since you left, since he left. A scarred wound sat in his chest, reopened when you texted him, now raw and bleeding as he watched you. His saliva dried in his mouth, breath catching in his throat when your head turned to meet his eyes, and he swore he watched your lips turn to a small smile.

He wondered if your smile meant you were happy to see him- or whether it was a polite show of acknowledgement. Though rather than turning your back to him, you faced him, resting your jaw in your hand. He sauntered over, his pulse still thumping against his ribs, his hands suddenly clammy and warm- like he wasn't a seasoned soldier.

Sliding in next to you, an arms' length apart, he faced forward, still not yet able to fully find your eyes; eyes he'd missed for years.

Your text came as a shock, though he couldn't deny he'd been reluctantly praying you'd reach out, change your mind, give him a second chance. It was vague, a reminder of who you were, as if he'd ever forget your name and number, and an invitation to the bar you'd made yourself comfortable in. He couldn't say no.

He said your name- a greeting, rolling off his tongue like you'd never left.

"Simon," You nodded. "Thanks for meeting me."

He finally turned his head, his black eyes finding yours with hesitation. You swallowed, nearly succumbing to the nostalgia and breaking into tears, but held strong when he nodded in response and you heard his voice for the first time in a long time.

"Surprised to hear from you. Everythin' alright? You doin' well?" He asked, still nonchalantly peering around even though he was nearly salivating at the smell of you. Still the same- his favourite scent, mixed with your addictive pheromones. It made his stomach churn.

"Yeah," You nodded shortly. "Just needed a friend. How have you been?"

"We friends now?" A hint of humour in his tone made you scoff.

"I needed someone I know- someone who knows me." Your eyes softened as you watched him, suddenly feeling guilty for inviting him.

"Knew you years ago," He started. "Not sure I know you now."

"I'm the same person, Simon," You scoffed again. "Just older."

"And married," He looked down at your hand, eyeing the silver band looped around your finger. He tried not to let his jealousy be as obviously apparent as it felt, swallowing harshly.

Your fingers immediately reached the ring, twisting it slowly for comfort like you'd always done.

"Separated," You admitted. "A few months now."

He watched your eyes begin to water, feeling resentful of the man who got to marry you- the man you chose over him and were so emotional about now.

"Still holdin' on?" He asked.

You shook your head, still holding the ring between your fingers. "I thought it would ward off any men in here. This isn't- I gave that back."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. Still, the lump of anger sat in his throat, but it was mostly jealousy. Seeing your face again reminded him of the memories he'd pushed down into his chest cavity and burned with whiskey and beer. He didn't need to be reminded that you'd walked away- he didn't even want to entertain the idea of another man touching you.

"You wanna talk about it?" His voice dripped with disinterest and reluctance. It made you chuckle.

"No," You grinned. "I'd rather drink about it."

"That I can do."

His fingers lifted as he ordered a drink, and another for you, while you smiled softly. Truthfully, your feelings for Simon had never faded. Even at the courthouse with your ex-husband, a part of you was still overseas with Simon. Though your decision to leave Simon wasn't easy, you'd suffered too much loss to stay and risk even more.

You'd settled down, naively accepted your ex-husband's proposal, and chose to leave him after nearly two years of marriage- another difficult decision, though not nearly as difficult as saying goodbye to Simon.

The more alcohol in your system, the more you began to remember; every fight, every kiss, every time he touched you. It wrapped around your heart, nostalgia-filled daydreams that evoked warmth in your stomach and pliability in your body.

Your hand reached his arm- an innocent touch at first, though his eyes narrowed at yours.

"Do I look the same?" You teased, rocking side to side, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Or do I have more wrinkles?"

He shook his head. "Still just as beautiful."

Your heart leapt, though you were speechless. Awkwardly searching for an appropriate response, you pursed your lips.

Simon tensed. "Sorry- didn't mean to-"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "It's okay. It's just been a while since I've heard that."

Simon paused, watching your body language.

"Thank you, Simon. I missed you."

The latter slipped out- a sharp jolt ran through your body as you sat up straight.

"Think you're drunk," He huffed.

You nodded, letting out a short chuckle. "I am. Doesn't mean I didn't miss you. We dated once, remember?"

He pursed his lips. "Could never forget."

After a few moments of quiet reflection, a stinging sensation in your eyes at Simon's vulnerability, you sighed.

"You always were a good guy," You huffed. "Can't say I don't regret leaving." You peered up at him, suddenly very aware that you'd finally spilled your feelings to him.

"Why did you?" He asked, cocking his head.

"I was scared," You shrugged. "Of losing you."

He squinted, before nodding. He accepted your answer, even if it didn't quite fit together in his head. He was relieved to know he hadn't done anything to push you away, that maybe there was a chance he could have you again.

"Well, I think I'll head home," You smiled.

"Let me drive you," He offered.

Your eyes met briefly, before you nodded and followed him out to his vehicle. You'd begun to fall asleep in the car- snoring lightly as Simon drove beneath streetlights and overpasses. He realized he didn't know where you lived, not since you'd moved out; against his better judgement, he decided not to wake you, but to take you back home; to his home.

He even wrapped his arms around you, lifted you from the car while you stirred in his grasp. Peering down at you, his heart clenched at your soft, sleeping face. The feel of your body in his hands again, smooth flesh against his calloused skin.

He let you take his bed; fresh sheets he hadn't slept in in months. Without crossing anymore boundaries, he left you to sleep beneath his duvet and stumbled off to the couch.

You woke not long after, immediately recognizing the bedroom you'd been put in. The same sheets, same decor; it was like you'd been transported back a few years. Only Simon wasn't beside you, and your framed photographs were no longer resting on the nightside table.

You stood to your feet, slowly, cautiously moving around the room, trying your hardest not to give in and search through his things in hopes of finding a trace of yourself there. You left the room, wandering down the familiar hallway to the living room where he was lain on the same beige couch you'd bought together.

You held back a smile- an arm strewn across his face, harsh exhales you knew meant he was still trying to lull himself to sleep. As you neared, he sat up suddenly.

"Sorry," You whispered. "I didn't mean to bother you."

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. "Y'fell asleep," He said. "Didn't know where you lived."

"It's fine." You peered around the room. Just the same but entirely different- it wasn't yours anymore. "Feels strange being here."

"'M sure," He nodded.

You watched from your position on the wall, arms crossed while he situated himself.

"Everything feels so familiar," You sighed.

He was silent, watching you take in the surroundings. It made his heart soften; a bit of resentment having melted and now replaced with desire at seeing you back where you belonged. In your shared home, with him.

"Brings back memories," He nodded.

Your cheeks reddened at the thought of memories; particularly the ones where your late nights ended in slow sex on the very couch you sat on. Staring up at the ceiling, Simon's hands roaming your body, the TV light flashing across your naked bodies.

"We had good times together," You said, turning to meet his eyes.

"Still can," He breathed.

You sighed softly; it was a mouth-watering offer, however innocent he meant it, that brought your pulse between your thighs and warmed your abdomen. But you weren't sure. You hadn't seen Simon in years, hadn't talked in years, you wondered if trying again would only hurt more than the initial breakup.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," You sighed again.

He stood to his feet, moving closer to you.

"You texted me," He said. "Had to be a reason."

"I told you, I needed a friend-"

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "You want more than a friend, love." He neared you, so close his chest nearly touched yours. His hand gently landed on your waist, slowly pulling you closer to him. He shut his eyes, inhaling shakily at the feel of your body against his again. "Think you want me to touch you again."

"Simon-" You started, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"That's it," He smirked, nearly unnoticeably. "Missed hearin' you say my name sweetheart. Missed a lot about you, if 'm bein' honest," He pushed his face into your neck, earning a broken exhale from you when he planted soft lips on your jugular.

"Simon, please," You breathed, your reluctant hands finding his biceps while he continued to wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor.

"Don't beg for me 'less you mean it, sweetheart."

He met your eyes, waiting for you to confirm or deny; your teeth clenched your bottom lip, letting it fall as you whispered another light plea. It was quiet and held no conviction behind it, only pure lust that drove it from the back of your throat.

He pressed his lips against yours, tight fingers holding onto your waist, his other hand gliding up to your jaw. Long fingers spread the length of your throat, forcing your lips against his, waiting to hear the moans he'd missed so badly.

You couldn't help but grind yourself against him- arousal was already flooding through you just while his tongue slid into your mouth, but you needed more.

You began to lift his shirt over his head, while he grabbed it at the neck and disposed of it within seconds. Your blouse, expensive and delicate, was pulled apart at the buttons by Simon's calloused hands, which dove down to cup your breasts and squeeze with fervour.

"Missed your body," He whispered into your neck, tugging your bra down your body to reveal your breasts.

"I missed your touch," You whispered against his jaw, your lip quivering at the nostalgia. "God- I missed you touching me."

He lifted you suddenly, strong hands carrying you to the beige couch- it was like your first time all over again. Goosebumps spreading across your skin, Simon's smell invading your senses. You were breathless, emotional, overwhelmed.

He tugged your jeans down your hips, pulling your panties off as you shuffled out of them. He wasted no time burying his face between your soft thighs, rough hands holding them apart while his tongue slid against your clit.

You gasped sharply, your back lifting off the couch to meet his lips, to grind yourself against his mouth. He'd always been over-eager when it came to your pleasure, though his tongue glided against you, encircling your clit with a level of attentiveness you'd not received in years.

His hand ran up your stomach, softly squeezing your breasts, while the other massaged the pliable flesh of your thighs. He missed having you spread out for him, vulnerable beneath him. Your thighs over his shoulders, your expression of pleasure illuminated by the TV; he'd always been driven by your enthusiastic moans.

"Pussy tastes so fuckin' good, sweetheart," He said, his voice hoarse with restraint. "Just as good as I remember."

You exhaled a whine, a gush of arousal spreading through every limb as he continued his methodical massage. You felt his fingers breach your pussy, slowly but surely stretching you out around him, a strained exhale leaving his mouth.

"Fuck," He whispered, leaning forward to connect his lips to your clit once more.

"Yes, Simon," You breathed into the silence. "Shit- you know just how I like it," You gasped.

His fingers curled inside you, his tongue still flicking quickly over your clit. He'd tasted you so many times, watched you come undone on his tongue- he could pinpoint the moment you were close to cumming. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers, squeezing so tight he nearly couldn't move them, your body writhing with pleasure, lips frozen in a gasp.

He'd been grinding into the softness of the couch, attempting to relieve some of the painful arousal. With each stroke of his fingers, his hips jerked forward, imagining himself deep inside you, your juices coating his cock.

When you came on his fingers, his eyes had flickered to your face, watching you combust with firework-like pleasure, galaxies clouding your vision while he watched with awe.

You exhaled, sitting up to make eye contact with him- he crawled over you like a hungry animal, one hand undoing the belt constricting his pants while the other held himself above you.

"Missed the taste of you," He whispered, his lips inches from yours. "Bein' inside you."

His voice was shaky with desire, a painful erection he wanted to bury inside you only throbbing when you'd chew on your bottom lip.

"I want you inside me," You said in return, watching his eyes close as he digested your words.

"Christ-" He scoffed. "You miss my cock, love? Miss havin' it deep inside you?"

His fingers wrapped around your throat again, watching you nod enthusiastically.

"I do- always have," You breathed. "Please," You whispered, another plea that nearly made him cum right there.

He yanked his pants down his hips, his impressive erection momentarily exposed before he gripped your thigh and yanked it to his waist. You felt the soft head of his cock gently probe your pussy before sliding in- smooth and quick, before he was buried to the hilt, connected so perfectly like you were made for him.

His head dropped, a low groan of satisfaction escaping him before he adjusted his hips and looked up at you.

"Fuckin' hell," He shook his head, situating his hands so he could dive closer, press his body against yours. "Stay right there," He insisted.

You tightened your thighs around his hips, your hands gripping onto the bulging muscles of his back, flexing and moving as he fought his impending orgasm. Your fingernails inadvertently scraped against his skin- you knew he loved it, knew it sent him over the edge.

He moved, a thrust that was uncertain and haphazard, but intentional enough to make your lips part. He was so deep, his pubic bone grinding against your clit- it sent a shiver up your spine.

"Too tight," he mumbled against your mouth. "So fuckin' wet."

He began thrusting, harsh and poignant, grinding into you. Your body rocked with each movement, finding yourself bouncing your hips back to meet him halfway. He'd begun to perspire, sweat dotting his forehead, his lips parted as he huffed.

"Simon," You murmured, pressing your lips to his neck as he thrusted into you.

"Tell me it's mine," He grunted. "This cunt is mine- you're mine."

Your eyes met- even if he'd insisted while inside you, you both knew it was true. You were his, he was yours, no matter the outcome.

"I'm yours," You nodded, "All yours."

He kissed you again, forceful and passionate, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your stomach tightening as he rubbed against your clit.

Another orgasm overtook you- in turn, he began to reach his peak, desperately searching your eyes, watching you gasp and moan on his cock, struggle to breathe while he pounded into you.

"'M close, love," He breathed.

"Cum inside me," You spat out, clinging to him with all four limbs while he wrapped a hand around your throat.

His thrusts grew sloppy, slow- a long, low grunt from his mouth let you know he was cumming; burying his cock as deep as possible, hips jutting forward with every jolt of pleasure. He groaned into your mouth, a sloppy kiss as you felt his warm cum coat your walls. He exhaled, sitting back, slowly easing out of you while his cum began to drip down your ass. He used a finger to push it back inside you, a sly grin over his lips as he did, and helped you sit up.

A quick clean-up, change of clothes and a glass of water later, the two of you settled in your old bed, your old room. His arm tangled over your side, holding you against his body like you'd escape in his sleep, and you fell asleep with him- like it always should've been.

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites #call of duty

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goldeunoias · 6 months

Text

Peaches Filled with Cream.

A/N: sooooooooooo a darlin asked for soemthing like caregiver heeseung (which i'm too lazy to find right now sowwy) but with jay and well *waves hands* for some reason when someone says jay my brain says POSSESSIVE JAY so well possessive jay stans RISE AND SHINE

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: um......pussyslapping, possessive jay, edging, somewhat exhibitionism bc they fuck in a bathroom at a party, sex without a condom (hence the cream), it's just possessive kinky jay idc what else to say ANYWAYYYYYYYY

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It was only because your lipstick was smudged.

That was the reason why he gently tugged you into the bathroom, glaring at any of the guys who dared to look at you.

Didn’t they know that you were his?

You were his soft little peach, and he had to protect you since that’s what good friends were supposed to do right?

“Here peaches, come sit on the counter so I can fix your lipstick for you,” Jongseong cooed at you gently, locking the door and fixing your skirt so it didn’t ride up when you did so.

“Mmhm, you spoil me as always,” you teased, letting out a happy giggle and kicking your feet as he went through your purse to pull out the lipstick.

“Yeah yeah, more like you’re such a ditz you need me to take care of you,” Jongseong retorted back, holding your face firmly in his hand as he wiped the areas that had smudged.

“I’m not a ditz,” you huffed, Jongseong smiling at you endearingly.

He was right, you were far from it and by all accounts one of the most hardworking people he’d ever met, which only made him want to spoil and coddle you more.

Jongseong hummed and reapplied gently, trying to keep his thoughts pure as he stared at your lipstick-laden lips.

God, he wanted to kiss you.

He’d worked so hard to keep men away from you since the day you guys had met, only considering himself the most viable option for you. After all, who was going to take care of you the way he was?

“Jongseongie~, you’re spacing out again,” you informed him, poking his shoulder.

He gave you a soft smile and a gentler “sorry”, his eyes falling on how your top was slowly sinking down.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on your upper thigh, squeezing it softly. “Hold still so I don’t smudge it any more than you already have,” Jongseong cooed at you. He watched you jump slightly then nod, smiling to himself.

Cute.

“Open your mouth some so I can make sure I didn’t get any on the inside of your mouth peaches.”

You gulped and let out a shaky “okay”, goosebumps rising on your skin as you felt his thumb circle your inner lips. You did your best not to whine, as you were beginning to feel your nipples poke through your tank top.

Jongseong picked up on your shifting body language and pushed it further, holding up the back of his hand.

“There’s nothing in here for you to blot it on so use the back of my hand,” Jongseong “innocently” offered.

“O-okay sure,” you nodded, grabbing his hand by his wrist and leaning in to blot off the excess.

You could smell the cologne on his wrist when you pulled back and by now your head felt dizzy, every part of your body that he’d touched tingling in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“What’s wrong peaches? Your skin feels warm,” Jongseong pushed, pressing his calloused hands against your throat.

You shook your head stubbornly, not wanting to speak. It only egged Jongseong on more, dragging his index finger down your sternum lightly.

Your breath hitched and you felt goosebumps rise onto your skin, grabbing Jongseong’s biceps and whimpering into his chest. You’d become a prey in a lion’s den, but he was still a wolf in sheep’s clothing nonetheless.

"You're normally not this skittish peaches. Did you fall down and bruise yourself somewhere?" Jongseong inquired, "checking" various spots of your body with light touches to find any bruising,

“n-no” you panted into his chest, shifting uncomfortably as you felt droplets of sticky arousal leak onto your underwear.

Jongseong was happy your head was in his chest so he couldn’t see his grin, one of his hands going to your lower back and rubbing small circles in it.

“Use your words peaches~”

You couldn’t take the teasing anymore and pushed him off of you gently, brazenly raising up your skirt. You were wearing rather scandalous underwear and it caught Jongseong off guard, a guttural “shit” leaving him as he bit down on his lower lip.

“Take care of it, please,” you whined, Jongseong chuckling and closing the distance between the two of you, yet not making a move.

“Aw, someone’s getting bold isn’t she?” Jongseong clucked with tongue, his hand sliding between your legs and lightly stroking your slit. The feeling of his callouses caused your legs to feel like jelly, your hands reaching onto his shoulders for stability.

“Please seongie, you’ve never been this mean to me,” you whimpered to him with eyes that normally would have made him melt, but instead it only made him chuckle.

It was true, he’d spoiled you and coddled you to the extreme and it was also true that he’d wanted you desperate for him for the longest time...

But that didn’t mean he was going to cave in that easily.

“You’re right peaches, I haven’t. But today I feel like doing so,” he said with a honey-sweet smile. Before you could question anything he turned you around and angled your body so the counter-top was directly pushing against your clothed-clit.

“Rut against it, give me a show that proves to me you really want it,” Jongseong whispered in your ear, his hands going to your hips to push against the surface.

The slight friction made you keen into the sensation and let out a shaky breath, your knees buckling as Jongseong tugged your nipples through your camisole harshly.

You bit down on your lip and started rutting into the counter’s corner, soon finding an angle that made your underwear more soiled than it already was.

Jongseong watched with a hint of sadistic pleasure as you desperately rutted into the countertop, heavy panting leaving you every time the edge pressed especially hard against your puffy clit.

“seongie it feels good but it’s not enough,” you pleaded with him, giving you tear-rimmed eyes through the mirror.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, pulling you back some and spreading your legs. “Look peaches, your juices leaked onto the counter because of how turned on you were. I bet if I left you here for any longer you’d make yourself cum.”

You rapidly shook your head and turned around, grabbing his hand and letting it rub your swollen bud, his name breathily falling from your lips.

“You’ve never so no to me so why do it to me when I need you the most?” you pleaded.

Jongseong’s chest rose sharply, unable to restrain his desire for you any longer.

“Turn around and bend over.”

You did so quickly and whimpered as Jongseong bunched your skirt at your waist and lowered your camisole, kissing your shoulder tenderly as his hands worked between your thighs.

“My peach is spilling out her pretty juices,” Jongseong teased, dragging a hand down your slit. You dropped your head down onto the counter and whined, ears burning at the obscenities falling from his mouth.

Jongseong tsked and placed a firm slap on your core, lifting up your chin so you could stare back at him through the mirror.

“I didn’t say you could lower your head down now did I peaches? You want me to take care of it you’re gonna have to be a good girl and take orders ‘mkay?”

You nodded and watched Jay raise a brow at your nonverbal gesture, a quick “yes sir” leaving you as he pushed his middle finger.

“You didn’t have to add the ‘sir’ in there after all, I’m your seongie aren’t I?” Jongseong cooed in your ear. You let out a shaky “yes” and your hands gripped the countertop as he pressed against your walls.

“Help me find your special spots peaches, talk to me,” he grinned sweetly, kissing your shoulder gently.

“Move a little bit lower, r-right there,” you gasped out, Jongseong immediately wasting no time with sliding another digit in.

The squelching noises coming from between your legs wanted to make you hide away in shame, Jongseong’s intense pace making your lower belly churn.

“You’re starting to grip down on my fingers, it seems like someone is close isn’t she?” Jongseong rasped in your ears. You fervently nodded and whimpered out for him to let you come and he almost let you, but his sadistic side got the better of him and he pulled his fingers out.

Before you could protest your arousal-soaked fingers were being stuffed into your mouth, Jongseong unbuckling his belt with his other hand and freeing his member.

“Try to stay quiet peaches, we’re gonna have to be quick,” he rasped, slicing into you with one thrust. You moaned against his fingers and reached out to press your hands against the mirror, your whole body shaking as you felt his tip press against your cervix.

“Such a good peach, taking every inch like a big girl,” he praised, grabbing one of your legs and placing it on the counter to go even deeper.

“w-wait you’re going too deep it’s pressing against something weird,” you shaked out, your body attempting to move away from his inches. It only made Jongseong chuckle and pull your hips back against him, causing you to bite down on his wrist to keep quiet.

“That just means you haven’t been fucked properly peaches, feel this spot I’m my tip is pressing up against? Right~ here,” he teased, bottoming out slowly so you could feel in detail where he was pressing. You nodded rapidly, face scrunching up as you tried to process the pleasure.

“Well, this spot peaches is where only a real man can reach, you should be thanking me for kissing your pretty cervix,” Jongseong said with a hint of malice, letting his possessive nature take over him. When you didn’t say thank you he landed another firm slap on your swollen clit, your nails scratching against the mirror.

“Didn’t I say to say thank you?” He clucked in your ear, speeding up his pace as his member rubbed against your slick walls.

“Tha-”, you let out a whimper, “thank you,” you rushed out, feeling your head get dizzy as tightness formed in your stomach.

“Thank you for?” he continued to tease in your ear, gently licking the shell of it.

“Thank you f-for touching my cervix,” you yelped out. You could feel Jongseong smile against your ear as he firmly gripped your hips to lead you to your release, his hand coming over your mouth firmly to muffle the moan that left it.

You shuddered as you felt hot warmth paint your walls, Jongseong groaning and giving you everything he had.

“You’re welcome peaches.”

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

Do we think Jay fits this style? Let me know through anon, reblog, or a comment!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen jay smut #jay smut #jay scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios

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