#whoops i mean boyfriend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 24 days

Note

How about Steve with a reader who already has a kid? Like they're in their twenties and she has maybe 2 or 3 year old. Her ex isn't in the picture so it's just her. Maybe the fic is Steve finally getting to meet readers son/ daughter. Maybe she has to leave their date earlier due to a babysitter problem and Steve just comes along with her and they spend the night together.

ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 2k

“Try not to show fear,” you’re saying, your hand pulled tight against his. He savours the softness of it even as the concrete steps to your house force you apart.

“I’m not scared.”

“I’m just saying, Steve. Toddlers know when you’re scared.”

“But I’m not scared.” Steve has handled worse than toddlers. If your kid is anything like you, this will be a walk in the park.

You grin at him and give him one of your cute shrugs, though shyness he recognises from your first date stiffens your shoulders again as you open your front door.

Your home is small. The first thing he notices is the cramped space walking in, the tight stairs, but the second thing he notices is the amount of life, photographs that deck the walls and colour everywhere, clothes folded and waiting to be taken upstairs, little shoes in a stand by an open bathroom door.

“Melanie?” you call. “You okay?”

Melanie appears in the door with a huge watery frown, who Steve assumes to be your young son smiling on her hip, unperturbed. “I’m so sorry.”

She’d been incoherent on the phone, though eventually squeezed out that it was nothing wrong with Noah. Melanie’s boyfriend appears to have broken up with her over the phone.

You scoop Noah off of his babysitter's hip, holding him with far more ease. He drops his face with affection to the curve of your bare shoulder. It’s a shame you and Steve had to come home —you’re wearing the nicest dress he’s ever seen. But not a shame, because Steve’s excited to meet the baby.

You could’ve sent him home. He assumes this means some level of trust and, better, permanency. If all goes well, he might be able to ask you to go steady soon. He’d love to do it tonight.

“Don’t worry, Melanie, you can’t help it if something bad happens, can you? I’m really sorry about your boyfriend. Do you need me to drive you home?”

Melanie sniffles miserably. “No, that’s okay, I can drive. I’m sorry.”

You rub her arm. “It’s okay, really. We were just gonna have dinner and head home.”

Steve internalises his reaction to that tidbit well. Melanie gives him a sad smile and passes by, her shoes heavy and smacking as she leaves with a mumbled farewell.

“She’s a little emotional,” you say sympathetically, before turning your attention to the sleepy kid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Noah, guess you’re stuck with mommy and her new friend. Do you want to say hi?”

Noah lifts his head, following your hand where you point at Steve, a smile like yours on his lips.

Steve genuinely isn’t scared of kids, he loves them, and he loves talking to them. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you.”

You hum appreciatively. “Go on, say hi to Steve.”

“Hi,” Noah says quietly.

Your voice is different around the baby, not any less pretty but softer, and quieter. It has Steve lowering his own voice in an attempt to mimic you. “Hi, bud.”

“He’s my new best friend,” you explain, ushering Steve closer, your hand touching gently to his shoulder.

Noah’s even more your image now he’s closer, all your eyes and smile and brightness, but he’s got someone else’s nose, and he’s got a bad case of yawns. You laugh at his scrunched nose, wiping your thumb lightly over his bottom lip. “You want to go to bed, sweet boy?” you ask.

“No… buppy.”

“You want your buppy. Okay, I’ll get it for you.” You pull your arm through Steve’s. “Let’s go.”

He laughs and goes happily. Your kitchen is empty compared to the hallway, it’s surprising, but then you open a cabinet for the aforementioned bubby and a couple of things come tumbling out. “Whoops,” you say, popping Noah down on the floor. “Can you put those away for me, please? Thank you.”

Noah tries his best, but everything he puts in comes tumbling back out, earning a few high-pitched giggles. You crack the fridge open for a pint of cows milk.

“He doesn’t have formula?”

“No, you can give them whole milk after a year, but he doesn’t really need it anymore, it’s just to help him self-soothe at nighttime.”

“Mom, I can’t do it,” Noah laughs. Steve thinks that great, that laughing. He could’ve had a tantrum (Steve wouldn’t blame him).

Steve crouches down. “Can I help?”

Noah gives Steve a smile, eyes squinting nearly entirely shut. “Yes.”

“Okay, awesome. Looks like your mom needs more cabinets for all your stuff.” He starts to pick up the pieces.

“I need a whole new house,” you say, filling the bottle about three quarters before sticking it in your microwave uncapped. You set the timer for fifteen seconds and prop your chin in your hand, elbow on the counter. Steve thinks it’s your best angle yet, your dress, your arms, the friendly smile you’re wearing that hasn’t once ebbed since the first date. It all gets his chest in a twist.

He knows getting your baby to like him is make or break. And he really wants to give this a shot, you and him, you and Noah. He thinks you’d be good together. (Maybe he’s crazy and too forward, but you really are beautiful in your dress.)

“How’s that?” he asks, closing the cabinet behind a tower of bottles and baby bowls.

“Perfect! Good job, baby,” Noah says, tapping Steve on the knee.

Steve snorts. “Thank you.”

“He’s going through a phase of saying everything I say,” you explain, yanking open the microwave to test the milk on the back of your hand.

You deem the milk sufficiently warmed and offer Noah your hand, swiping a takeout menu from the fridge as you pass, and once again grabbing Steve by the arm to drag him along. He’s content to be dragged. You lead everyone into the living room, and he’s again surprised by how small it is.

You catch his look. “Are you judging me, Harrington?”

“What? No? Of course not.”

“Messing with you. There’s an extension out back, on the kitchen? That’s where I keep the rest of the toys.” You drop down onto the couch with a sigh. “Come here, babe, come cuddle with mommy.”

If Noah weren’t in earshot, Steve would make a joke about how he hopes you aren’t talking to him. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t.

You lay back and Noah climbs up onto one side of you, his hands out ready for his bottle, while your arm stretches out for Steve. “Come ‘n’ sit.”

Steve sits knee to knee with you. He’s not scared of kids, and he isn’t scared of you, either. He knows exactly what he wants, and he isn’t afraid to let you know it, taking your hand where it lies open on your thigh.

“What were you gonna get?” you ask, nodding to the takeout menu.

“I don’t know, I’ll have what you’re having,” Steve says.

“What if you don’t like what I’m having?”

“I’ll learn.”

You tip your chin up at him, beaming. “Yeah? What if I like something completely unamerican?”

“I gotta learn sometime, right?” He squeezes your fingers nicely.

“Well, my Noah likes everything.” You kiss Noah’s forehead, stealing his attention from his bottle, bright eyes tracing your face and then your hand where Steve is rubbing the back of it.

“Then he can have some of everything.”

You and Steve share a loving smile. Smiles smiles smiles, everybody’s getting on, this is the best sixth date anyone’s ever had, best date full stop, though your fifth date was a close second. You and Steve had spent hours together in a park in the city eating picnic foods and soaking in the sun together, your nose brushing off of his ribs, his jacket balled up under your head. He’d kissed you twice that night when you finally, sorrily had to go home, and you’d said, Aw, I really like you, as you held hands on the stoop. He should’ve asked you then to give it a proper go, but now he’s met Noah he figures it’s as good a time as any.

“Hey,” Steve begins, clearing his throat, “would you–”

“Woh!” Noah shouts around the teet of his bottle. It falls from his lips. “We wiw hands,” he garbles, a bunch of baby flavoured gibberish as he leans over your stomach to cover your hand where it’s held in Steve’s. “Mom!”

“What, babe?”

“My hand!”

“You’re not jealous, are you?” you ask with a laugh.

“Mom!” he says, slapping your hands insistently with his own.

Steve loosens your fingers, leaving a gap between your palms. “Quick, bud, put your hand in.”

Noah climbs onto your leg and presses his hand into the fold, though he grows annoyed at the weird fit, and immediately starts to sniffle. Steve winces, but you’re used to it. “Aw, don’t start the waterworks. Come on, what happened to sharing? We’re good sharers.”

Steve lets go of your hand. He’s reluctant, sure, but he doesn’t wanna be on anyone’s bad side. Noah cries for a few seconds like he’s forgotten why he’s upset, but he sees your open palm and the cog finishes turning.

“Hold mommy’s hand,” you say, wiggling your fingers.

Noah thinks about it. He ends up on his side across your leg staring at you, then at Steve, who smiles at him cheerfully. “He’s so handsome,” Steve says. “He has your face. Guess that’s why you’re so handsome, huh?” He shakes his head at Noah gently. “‘Cos you got all your good looks from your mommy.”

“He knows what that means,” you preen, leaning down to speak closer to Noah’s ear. “Don’t you? You’re my handsome boy.”

Noah puts his hand in Steve’s with another tinkling laugh.

“Oh! I see how it is, you wanna be Steve’s friend too. Can’t let me have anything for myself, can you?”

“No,” Noah says cheekily.

Steve collects Noah’s little hand in his. “Good!” he says. “You should get everything you want, just like mom.”

“Think so?” you ask.

Steve nods.

You cover Noah’s eyes with your hand and move up to press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “Like you?” you ask.

Steve’s just stoked to have someone he likes actually like him back at the same level. Noah squirms away from your hand to squeeze Steve’s tighter. Two someones.

“Like me,” he says, grinning.

“Mommy, kiss!” Noah says urgently. “Kiss!”

You pull your gaze from Steve’s. “Sorry, I’m sorry! Come here, baby, I’ll give you a kiss too. I guess I’m gonna be giving double the kisses I used to, my poor chapped lips.�� You kiss kiss kiss Noah across the forehead.

Steve flusters thinking about it, making a mental note to get you some chapstick. He’d go pretty crazy for a crown of kisses like that.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

1K notes · View notes

distantdarlings · 6 months

Text

HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Pyramids - Frank Ocean

---

You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.

“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.

“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”

Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.

“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”

“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you.

“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.

“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room.

None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them.

You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation.

You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion.

Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you.

You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.

You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.

Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party.

You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific.

There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.

Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo.

“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car.

“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you.

You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.

“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”

You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.

“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.

“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding.

As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.

You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.

“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.

If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you.

You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment.

His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways.

You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl.

The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.

Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question.

He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.

“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.

“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening.

“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”

“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.

“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”

“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.

“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.

“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.

“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you.

He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress.

You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning.

You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact.

“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him.

Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much.

He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.

His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million.

There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit.

Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.

“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.

“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours.

No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.

He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer.

He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.

“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.

It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you.

“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”

“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.

“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged.

“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.

Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for.

Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile.

“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.

“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #hogwarts fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

3K notes · View notes

nevertheless-moving · 11 months

Text

Gotta figure that at least 50% of those spidermans were very delibrately not putting their all into the big chase scene, bare minimum 10% actively sabotaging. like oh no we're on a train to the moon, guess we're stuck and can't go after him anymore.

Please.

Running in a pack, big crowd of the chattiest superheros to ever live (and theres a lot of chatty fucking superheroes), several dozen of them with front row seats to the big reveal-

"so why are we after this kid?" "He wants to stop one of his canon events" "his canon events?" "a canon event." "You mean-" "Wait what did she say, we're chasing this guy because he wants to keep his girlfriend from falling to her death?" "Uh. Not sure. Might be the childhood friend - watch your heads - turning evil thing." "I thought those were fixed points? Like you couldn't stop them no matter how much you time traveled back?" "There he is!" "Wait you have time travel?" "No but I heard the spider from earth 1116a-" "Wait if it's fixed then what's the harm in letting him try" "come on you know the multiverse-" "he's trying to keep his boyfriend from dying? Why the fuck are we chasing him?" "Well miguel said-" "you mean Grimdark angsty spiderman?" "Huh?" "No, not you, vampire - incoming, mind your legs - vampire grimdark angsty spiderman-" "oh, him. Isn't he a bit-" "I feel like the trying is what matters, i mean even if he fails-" "so he is a vampire!" "ummm yeah no hold up im not totally comfortable with this whole-" "who's trying to do what? Ooh, got line of sight on him, he's totally webbed in 3,2, AaAghh" "Oh shoot, haha I must have tripped on Spider-Banana-Man whoops, sorry -" "ugh whattever, lost the shot anyway" "Cant believe Spider-Rex boffed it like that, theyre usually great at ambush-" "I heard his uncle-" "No his dad-" "oof, thats-" "Wow is it just me or are we really tripping over each other today" "Hey do you know why we're chasing after this-"

#Spiderman #across the spider verse #Across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #Atsv #Nevertheless writing #Marvel

4K notes · View notes

billfarrah · 2 months

Text

One of my favourite things about Young Royals and its characters is how much it romanticizes being utterly ordinary.

Stories often focus on characters who are exceptionally good at something or who are more ambitious than the average person. Even in the teen shows I’ve watched, these young characters always seemed to have their dream career and dream university figured out at a young age and I could never relate to that because I had none of those things figured out as a teen. It always felt like pushing this narrative that teenagers need to have their entire lives figured out before their brains are even fully developed.

None of the characters in YR seem particularly ambitious and in fact, the main character’s journey is a story of anti-ambition. When he is introduced to Simon, it is precisely Simon’s ordinariness that draws Wille to him. Sure, Simon is a very talented singer, but it’s never indicated within the series that he has dreams of being a pop star. It’s just something he likes to do. Simon is motivated by very ordinary things - he wants to do well in school so he can have better opportunities for himself, he wants to take care of his family, he wants to hang out with his friends and play video games. He’s a dedicated student but not necessarily valedictorian. It’s not his ambition that Wille is drawn to but his integrity and kindness and warmth.

Wille had a chance to be extraordinary - to be Sweden’s first gay king - but being extraordinary has never been Wille’s ambition. Wille’s ultimate goal and dream within the series’ narrative is to be free to make his own decisions and live his life as he pleases. He just wants to kiss his boyfriend and get drunk at parties and live his life one day at a time instead of spending every moment of his life preparing for an inevitable future he doesn’t want. In the end Wille is extraordinary not for his ambition, but for his bravery to reject the expectations thrust upon him and throw himself into the unknown and see where it takes him. Wille had a whole future in front of him as crown prince and future king - he’d never have to work a day in his life and would have people advising his every move - and he rejects that. This lack of ambition is not portrayed as a moral failure, but a necessary step in Wille’s journey to personal self-discovery and fulfillment of his own desires. His desire right now is simple - be free with Simon, but that doesn’t mean his dreams end here forever. He deserves peace and tranquility after all the trauma he’s been through without having to worry about where or who he’s gonna be in a few years. He deserves time to just exist.

None of the characters know where they’re going when they drive away at the end. We as the audience don’t know what careers if any these characters will find themselves in, but that’s also not important to this story. The series is saying you don’t have to have everything figured out when you’re 17 and you don’t have to do something just because your parents think they know what’s best for you and even if you don’t know exactly what you want to do, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the agency to know what you don’t want.

It’s not a moral failing to want the simple things in life or to be ordinary, and I love that Young Royals celebrates that. It shows the beauty in simple moments that feel revolutionary to a person - touching the person you love, forgiving someone and making amends after a hardship, whooping with your friends in a car as you drive into the summer and celebrates them. Ultimately these are the moments that make life worth living.

#young royals #idk if this even makes sense but I had to get it off my chest

728 notes · View notes

starwarsbian · 19 days

Text

feels better like this (high!spencer)

gif by @imagining-in-the-margins

NSFW 18+ minors DNI

put your age in your bio this is a fucking threat

your pretty boyfriend, spencer, tries smoking weed for the first time and it turns into whining and shaking hands

wc: 5.6k (whoops)

a/n: idc that some of this is cliche if you don't like it look away and it’s not proof read but i’m not sorry

cw: weed, intoxicated sex, p in v, oral (f! receiving), thigh fucking, unprotected sex, established relationship, praise

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

laughing as you unlock the door to your shared apartment, spencer puts his hand on your lower back and follows you inside. you’re both dressed for hotch’s birthday party, which he really didn’t want.

you have on a light blue dress, made of shiny satin. it’s a midi dress, which isn’t really normal for you. you’re more of a pants kind of person, but spencer has been telling you how beautiful you look all night. he’s wearing tan slacks and a button-down that’s a similar color to what you have on.

with his hand still on the small of your back, spencer pulls you in for a kiss; it’s soft and slow. you both smile into it as you pull away, he smells like his cologne.

“i need to change, i’ll be right back,” you say and walk towards your shared bedroom. you decide on a star wars t-shirt of spencer’s and blue plaid pajama pants that are also his. spencer doesn’t mind at all when you wear his clothes.

going to the kitchen, you find spencer leaning against the counter with a glass of water. he smiles and raises his eyebrows when he sees what you have on.

“you look..really good in my clothes,” he replies.

he does the same thing you did, goes to change clothes. when he comes back he has a black t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants.

“you also look really good in your clothes, just so you know.” he laughs at your comment and follows you to your living room. “is it okay if i smoke, spence?”

“oh, yeah! for sure,” he says and kisses your head. your smoking stuff is casually sitting on the end table on the left side of your couch. your grinder is already full from earlier and you take the bowl off your bong to pack. spencer looks at you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration for you. you put the full bowl onto your bong that you cleaned earlier in the day. you've been smoking around spencer the whole time you've been together; you used to hide the frequency though, for fear he would think its too much and not like you anymore. spencer didn't care how often you smoked he just wants you to be who you want to be without regard to what other people think. he's never, not once, asked to participate in the action but you had assumed it was because he wasn't interested. I mean, the whole team has heard his whole "six minutes are taken off your life per cigarette" ramble. you wonder if he knows statistics like that about smoking weed.

you look towards him and try to decode his thoughts as he’s watching you. “do..do you want to try?” you ask.

“oh..i’ve never..,” he says shyly with blood rushing to his face with a tiny bit of embarrassment. he really feels like he should have already done this at 26.

“really? you spent so much time like, in college. long enough for three doctorates and you’ve never smoked weed?”

he shakes his head and looks at you. he's really hoping you're not going to make fun of him. its never been that he didn't want to or he thought badly of people who did smoke.

“yes, really. no one ever offered, honestly. which i understand, i mean i definitely didn’t look like i’d say yes. i also didn’t really ‘hangout’ with anyone who smoked. what about me says i was friends with the 'cool kids?'"

“i guess i never really thought about it. but i cleaned the bong earlier. so it’s not gross or anything, do you want to try it? with me? i’ll be nice, i promise. i assumed you’d already tried and didn’t like it.”

“yeah. i’ll try but i don’t really know what i’m doing.” he feels relief that you didn't say anything mean or do anything but ask a genuine question.

“you’ve seen me do this dozens of times at this point. but watch me again now and i’ll help you for your turn.”

he nods and watches as you light the lighter and tuck your hair behind your ear. you light the bowl and pull smoke into the chamber, you lift the bowl out to inhale. you smile at spencer during your exhale.

“do that again. you’re pretty..show me again.”

you do as he says but a little slower so he can see each step, very simple steps. he studies you closely and is identifying the mechanics of how it works, its obviously not complicated but he feels better knowing what should happen.

“here. your turn. do you want me to light it for you? that’s not an uncommon thing for someone’s first time.”

he smiles, again. “yeah..that’d be nice, i think.” you hand him the piece and he puts his pretty lips in the top just as you did and looks up at you with his gorgeous eyes. you light the bowl and watch as your boyfriend takes his first hit. you make sure to stop him quickly so he doesn’t take too much and choke. he exhales and looks at you with watery eyes.

“oh, god that burns,” he says and turns away from you to cough a few times. you hurry to get him his water and bring it to him. you don't laugh at him at all because you know the feeling of embarrassment of something laughing at you after the burning pain in your lungs.

“here, take a drink. i know it burns, im sorry. it is hot smoke though.” that makes him laugh, again, with the bong in your hands again you take your turn and look at him with a questioning look afterward as you offer it to him again, eyebrows rising in surprise when he nods and takes it from your hands.

“want me to light it for you again, baby?”

“yes, please.”

you repeat this process but this time he handles it much better and manages to exhale smoothly before calmly taking another drink of water. it soothes the burning in his throat but his eyes still water. “again?” you ask him. spencer nods and puts his mouth back in position to hit the bong again.

your pretty boyfriend takes a little baby hit before grinning and passing the bong to you. the bowl is cashed so you empty it and pause to ask spencer if he’d like to pack it. you think it’d be cute to watch him get kinda the whole experience. you’re not going to let him smoke more than 1 or 2 more hits. at least until he has a few moments to feel his reaction. you're honestly scared he's going to freak out and not enjoy himself at all but so far he just seems happy, giddy even.

“you wanna pack it, spence? it really isn’t my favorite thing to do. and obviously it’s easy, here, take this.”

his hands shake a little with what you assume must be nervousness about messing something up. “spencer, you’re not going to do anything wrong? go ahead, baby. just put the flower in there for me and put in place.”

he does it exactly what you say; he didn’t spill anything and looks at you for approval. you give him a big smile and observe him place the bowl back where it belongs.

it’s your turn and you feel spencer’s hand on your thigh as you inhale and exhale. you repeat while spencer looks at you, mesmerized. he looks at you like you put all of the stars in the sky and for him you might as well have. he's never felt so comfortable with someone before.

“your turn, again. try to light it yourself, yeah?”

“okay,” he says before accepting the lighter you’ve offered him. he does it all by himself, perfectly, of course. he does everything perfectly. you nod for him to do it again. he coughs after this one and to make him feel better you make yourself a little uncomfortable with your next hit so you cough too. by the time you’re done hacking, spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.

“i do believe, im high now,” he tells you and then asks, “are you done? i like watching you, even coughing. your eyes look beautiful right now, actually.”

you shake your head no and spencer turns his attention to the TV for a little while as you finish up. his hand is spread out on your thigh now, moving up and down. his touch makes your stomach do flips and crave more.

you put the bong down and turn to face him. “will you kiss me, spencer?” the unfamiliar feeling is fogging up his mind a little so he doesn’t hesitate for a second before pressing your lips together.

the kiss is needy and spencer feels like you’re touching him everywhere but he wants more anyway. you crawl onto his lap and sit down, pushing him back against the couch. your hands are in his hair as you tug just a little. spencer lets out a small moan into your kiss and leans his head back, allowing you access to his neck.

filled with delight you start to kiss below his jaw and move down his neck. usually spencer is worried about you leaving marks on his throat because of work. but when you switch to the other side and start sucking on his flesh to mark him as yours he doesn’t protest. he does the exact opposite of protest and groans as he grabs your hips. spencer doesn’t curse very often but right now he’s letting a quiet slur of stuttering “fuck”s out of his mouth even though he’s biting his lip to try not to. spencer can usually contain himself and insists he reacts "appropriately" to your touch. you move back to his lips and soon your tongue is moving slow against his. after a few moments he pulls away to catch his breath.

“being touched by you feels so good right now..i.. don’t even know what to do with myself,” he whispers in the crook of your neck.

you’re high too and feel the same way, his hands on your hips are sending radiating heat to your core and when he touches your thighs you get butterflies. this is how it usually starts but he's being much more touchy than normal; you have no complaints.

“you don’t have to do anything. let me make you feel good, spencer..”

he whimpers at the thought of it and eagerly nods. “what are you gonna do?”

“nothing here. let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” you take his hand and he trails behind you to your bedroom.

“get on the bed, baby,” you instruct.

you remove his pajama pants from yourself and go to straddle him again. his hands find your thighs again and he grips them as you grind down against him.

he won’t stop releasing tiny little whimpers that are driving you crazy, he’s looking at you in a way that seems like begging. you’re still grinding on him and you feel him start to get hard against you.

“awe, there we go,” you tease “you like that, spence?” you speed up your movements a little and he gasps.

“answer me, spencer.”

“yes. yes i like it. don’t stop, you’re so fucking hot. i’m so obsessed with your thighs. you’re so soft and, fuck, it feels amazing.”

“my thighs? you like them?”

“mhm, so much. love to touch them”

you have an idea. “do you wanna touch them in a..different way?”

he’s still whining at the movements you’re making on top of him and he doesn’t ask you to explain just nods.

you move back a little and slip your hand under his waist band. he groans loudly as your fingers touch him for the first time tonight. “take your shirt off.”

he does as he’s told and bucks his hips up into your hand. you don’t give him anything more than you already are just trailing your fingers up and down his length, swiping your thumb across his tip. you get off of him and tug at his waistband, he gets the hint and removes his pants and boxers before he lays down and you crawl back onto him.

you settle down like you might start to ride him but instead you very softly settle spencer’s length between your soft thighs. he whines your name and thrusts himself between them further trying to get friction. you smile at him, in amusement.

“that’s exactly what i was talking about..you wanna fuck my thighs, spence?” you lean forward and ask in his ear.

“oh my god. please? please let me do that. how do i do that? you want it?” he’s flustered and babbling, lacking his usual conciseness. “yeah, i want it. why else would i offer? i wanna see you lose it over being between a part of me that isn’t inherently sexual, you know? like…if i liked your hands a lot. you’d let me use your hand to get off and i..im gonna let you fuck my thighs until you cum all over them.” spencer is looking at you with wide eyes. he didn’t expect you to say so many words but your answer has his length throbbing and his brain at a loss for words.

“how about i let you do it from behind? you can slide yourself right in between them, would you like that?”

spencer’s head is spinning and all he can think about is how much he wants to feel you like that. he’d never thought about it before but now? he’d do anything at the moment to press his cock between your plush legs and feel you in such a different, intimate, way—in a way no one else has had you. he nods again and looks at you with pleading eyes.

“spence, that’s not really an answer. how do you want me, baby? i wanna make you feel so good for your first time like this.”

he whines because he just wants to feel you but chokes out “please..from behind?”

“that’s what i was hoping you’d want,” you say with confidence.

spencer tugs off your shirt and watches as you settle on the bed. you keep pillows under your arms and keep your legs together. he runs his hands down your body and takes special care to tease the inside of your thighs. you moan as he drags his fingers through your warmth, using it to coat his cock and groaning something about how wet you are as he spreads it onto your thighs as well.

spencer eases himself between your thighs, cursing and snapping his hips forward. he slowly moves back and forth between them as his grip on your body tightens a little. all he can think about is how he’s so glad you had this idea because it feels like his body is burning with pleasure that pulses through him. he regrets never trying this with you before and would love to do it again. it feels better like this.

“why.. have you never gotten me high and had sex with me until now,” he whines into your ear as he leans down. he's panting and being far more vocal than usual, saying your name and holding your hips tight. he's desperately pulling you back against his movements as he uses your soft thighs to pleasure himself.

you move your hand down towards your thighs and spencer thinks you’re going to try to get some relief for yourself but instead you use it rub over his tip each time it protrudes from between your soft flesh. spencer’s hips stutter and you feel his hand shaking against your lower back. he's completely lost in the moment and with you; absolutely drowning in the way you make him feel. he's so worked up and can't catch his breath but wants to feel you closer. you’ve never seen or felt him act like this during sex. the shaking and whining is honestly a huge compliment and makes you feel accomplished and happy that you could do this for him.

“i’m so close. i’m so so close. fuck. can i cum on them? let me finish on your pretty thighs. let me claim them like that.”

the last phrase sends shiver through your body and you waste no time before telling him “yes, please do. that’s what i’m here for tonight, spence.” even though he hasn't even touched you where you want him you're bordering on dripping wet for him and he can see the glistening in the bedroom light.

he moans your name and within seconds he’s spurting pretty white ropes on your ass and thighs. he’s fucking up into his hand and it’s a gorgeous sight to see looking over your shoulder. he's whimpering by the time he finishes and you turn around to do a quick swipe of your tongue from bottom to top; this makes him pull away in overstimulation but gently run his fingers through your hair.

he lays down on the bed, trying to catch his breath. his face is flushed and his hair is disheveled. when he can breath again he turns off to kiss you, it’s soft and hesitant just because he doesn’t know if you want something from him. he wants to give you something and he runs his hands down your sides again.

“isn’t it your turn?” spencer says as he starts to kiss your neck and chest, his hand moves down to touch just outside of where you need him. he's marking you as his in another way now; sucking on your collarbone and basically purring in your ear in anticipation.

“yeah, i guess it is. what did you want to do?”

“i want you on my tongue. i want to taste you, i can’t even imagine what that would be like right now. will you let me?”

you press your thighs together at the thought, trying to feel anything at the moment because you want him so badly. you love when he's articulate with his words and sure of himself when he asks consent.

you nod and he moves his kisses to your chest and pauses to play with your left nipple with his right hand and put the other one in his mouth. he sucks and soothes the skin with his tongue, little touches of his teeth have you whining for him. he finds your impatience very attractive. he wants you to need him.

he kisses even lower, stopping at the top of your thighs to admire them and spreading them further apart to make room for him. he uses his thumb to lightly expose more of you to himself. wetness coats his thumb as he teases up and down from your clit to your entrance.

“so, so pretty,” he says under his breath. you look down at him just in time to see him suck his thumb clean and make eye contact with him. “mmm,” he hums in approval, “taste so good, pretty girl."

you blush and watch as he licks a wide strip from bottom to top of your sex. the feeling sends shivers down your spine. spencer prods deeper into your heat and meets your clit. he does soft, almost massaging, movements with his tongue. he gently envelops your bundle of nerves with his mouth and confidently slides his tongue against every place he can.

your thighs start to close around him but he holds them back open, lapping up your wetness like it’s his only job in the world to make you orgasm. he’s thorough and presses one finger to your entrance, he looks up at you for approval and smiles when you buck your hips, nod and whine all at once. he’s never said it before but he loves when you fall apart for him, he daydreams about it at work. it’s what he thinks about in hotel rooms at night when he’s alone. right now his mind is filled with nothing but you, your hands in his hair and the warmth of your body around him. he’s obsessed with learning your body and always has been but right now? his body is filled with the need to make you cum.

he presses his finger up inside you and finds the spot he knows makes your legs shake and your breath hitch in your throat. he moves slowly inside you, really taking his time to gauge your reactions. you’d think spencer would get more sloppy or impatient or maybe even lazy as he’s high but none of that happened. if anything it increased his patience in his acts. he looks up at you with glossy eyes and smiles against you when you blush at his gaze.

he moves his tongue down your folds and carefully licks around his fingers that are stretching you open and prodding against your walls with delicious fervor. he finds his way back to your clit and closes his eyes to focus on sucking and licking at your bud in his mouth trying to push you closer to the edge. it’s working and within the minute you’re moaning his name and cursing under your breath — all he can focus on is you you you how he needs you. your taste, your sounds and warm skin flood his senses.

he feels you tighten around his fingers and hears the whimper you let out right before you’re feeling white hot pleasure course through you from your center. you’re throbbing by the end and spencer still isn’t stopping. you whine and half heartedly try to push his head away.

“too much, spence. ‘m too sensitive,” you say.

he stops just long enough to look into your eyes and say “i don’t care. i’m enjoying myself and i know you like it when i make you feel so good you cry.”

your orgasm made even more slick gather and coat his hand. he keeps his assault of your most sensitive places steady while you start to lose yourself in his touch. his hands splayed across your thighs with his finger tips holding you tightly in place have you dizzy with want.

your second climax is quickly approaching and you pray that spencer doesn't take it away from you. he's not one for orgasm denial, he certaintly prefers overstimulation. it washes over you and you're babbling his name; unable to form other words. your hips are trying to buck up against his face but he holds you steady and lets you ride out your pleasure on his tongue. you're not crying though, so he isn't done with you.

"i want you, spencer. please use me to get off. i'll let you do whatever you want. you're always so good to me, let it be your turn again. what will make you feel best?"

he's amused that you're worried about him in this situation as if your pleasure doesn't have his head spinning and his heart racing. it took everything in him not to grind against the bed when he was eating you out. he felt that would be selfish though and knew you'd want to help him. you're still trying to catch your breath and he's still rubbing all over your thighs. he continues to trail over the top and underneath and on all parts of your bikini line. he's such a goddamn tease but doesn't answer your question he just looks at you, waiting for you to say something else.

"do you want to smoke more, spence?"

he tries to hide his surprise and excitement but ultimately fails. he handled the first round really well and you decide he can likely handle more this time around.

"do you want to smoke more? its your stuff, baby. you dont have to share."

"quit being silly. everything else that's mine is yours…my body is yours and you're worred about a bowl or two to make you want me even more?"

he nods in agreement and blushes. he takes it upon himself to leave the bedroom and bring your things back in from the living room. you're both still naked and it feels more intimate like this, spencer never lets you feel self conscious and you do the same for him. neither of you are embarassed or worried about it in this moment. he gives you a soft kiss before he smiles and says,

"i've brought you a gift." he gives you the bong, its pink by the way and the bowl is heart shaped.

he already knows what to do this time and is far less nervous. you take the piece from him and get to work filling the bowl with ground flower from your grinder, that is also pink and has a heart on top. he waits patiently and just spends time memorizing your features.

your hair is messed up and so is his but he really believes you look beautiful; he thinks you're perfect and can't wait to get his hands on you again and feel you writhe underneath him. he shakes his head trying to focus on something other than the dirty thoughts hes having about you like the way you'll beg for his cock, how your legs shake when he's done with you and the marks that'll be left tomorrow.

you let spencer smoke as much as he thinks he can handle in comparison to last time; he still coughs and needs his water everytime but you're kind of impressed by his perseverance. he keeps up with you mostly, until your last few inhales when he watches you with low red eyes. he feels almost dizzy but in a good way and wants to be in you really really badly, he cant think of another way to describe it and thats how he knows he's right where he needs to be for what happens next.

again, he teases and touches your inner thighs and trails the crease between them; obviously trying to have some effect on you and it works. he knows just how to touch you to make you want all of him. as you finish up his touching becomes more insistent and maybe more suggestive as he slowly moves closer and closer to where you need him.

"you all done, pretty girl? gonna let me touch you again?"

you nod eagerly and pull him on top of you as you lean back on the pillows on the bed before meeting his lips with yours. the kissing gets intense fast, with his hands touching you a little less softly as he's filled with need. you're rutting up against the thigh he has resting between yours and nip at his bottom lip gently as he pulls away to look into your eyes. "i want you in me, spencer. i've been waiting all night. waiting since you started looking at me hungrily at that party. i know you were thinking about me like this instead of fully clothed sitting on your lap in front of all of your friends."

he groans at your words and gives in to you, no longer teasing after the way you're talking to him. he's still on top of you as he trails his fingers down your throat then stomach and finally resting with a thumb on your bundle of nerves. he presses light circles and slowly slides two fingers in that you take with ease. he decides that you're wet enough and you've never minded a little discomfort at first anyway. you beg him to move even if it hurts a little.

spencer lines up with your entrance and very, very slowly enters you as he throws his head back in pleasure and grabs your hip hard enough it might leave bruises tomorrow. he can hardly stop himself from taking you roughly right there like his fucked up brain wants him to. insead, he holds back and begins moving in and out at a slow, steady pace. his movements spread your wetness over him and soon he's bottomed out. hes so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach as he presses against your walls. he feels you clenching down on him and he swears under his breath.

'fuck. fuck, you're so tight. god, and warm. feels so good."

he's still moving slowly in you and you're starting to feel impatient. but rushing spencer isn't something that really happens; he loves to take his time with you like this until you're begging for his cock to move faster inside you. he sees your glossy eyes begging for him without saying a single word.

"awe, does my baby want more? say please."

"please. please fuck me. i've been so good and have done everything you've said."

he hums in agreement and says nothing as he speeds up and changes the angle of his thrusts slightly as he fucks into you. you keep tightening around him and its driving him crazy, he can't get enough of you. his hands are shaking again as he holds himself up with one and massages your breast with the other. his hands splay wide across your skin and his hair hangs down in his face just a little while he moves inside you.

his pace is still steady and his hips only falter when he hits something in you that makes you tighten around him and arch your back into his touch. soon his length is touching perfectly against that sweet spot in you that makes your head spin and your hands desperately grab for the sheets or spencer in general.

he switches to something much faster and quickly your nails are scratching long lines across his back, hard enough his back will sting tomorrow and he might wince at the feeling of his shirt rubbing against the wounds you've left him with; he'll like it though and grin to himself as he thinks about the way he had you the night before.

with your nails dragging down his flesh in needy bliss, spencer can't even think to talk you through it like he normally would. he's hardly ever at a loss for words but he's high and doesn't know how to cope with all the sensations he's feeling. what he knows should feel like pain against his skin, your scratches, feels like pleasure that spreads through his entire body; with his existence aflame from your touch.

he's lost all sense of the words "soft" and "rough" and is focused on pushing you over the edge again. he's getting close again but is trying to hold back until he pulls another orgasm from your overwhelmed body. the sound of skin hitting skin is filling the room as well as your pleas and unending moans of your lover's name. his hand intertwines with yours as he wrecks you just like you wanted. you wanted spencer to be a little reckless, a little thoughtless in the process of tonight's sex.

thinking about the way he whined and whimpered between your thighs earlier is pushing you closer and closer as a knot in your stomach tightens. spencer's fingers find your clit and rub quick small circles in the way he knows you like. he's pulling you apart at the seams and doing everything he can to coax your orgasm from you before he finishes himself. since you've gotten together he's learned how to get you to let go completely and surrender yourself to how he makes you feel.

his breathing is heavy and he knows a few words will be enough to make you unravel under him. "come on, angel. I can feel you're close, let go for me. come on, let go. you're such a good girl, do what I tell you and cum around my cock. let me feel you."

his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he practically begs you to finish so he can too. "you want me to cum in you? want me to fill you up? i wont until you finish under me."

you desperately want to feel him pulsing and filling you so you focus and close your eyes underneath him. normally, he would tell you to open them and look at him when he's dragging you off the edge towards more white hot bliss. warmth spreads through your body, all the way to your fingertips as you start to lost contact with the real world. your climax washes over you in waves that match the pulsing spencer feels from you.

your orgasm is enough to send him reeling over his own ledge as his thrusts start to turn irratic and lose uniformity. he moans into the kiss you pull him down into and he stops moving completely to pump his cum into you. towards the end he moves his hips slowly against yours, grinding into you and fucking his seed further into you. you hum in approval until he pulls out which leaves you feeling empty and forces a whine and frown out of you.

"baby, don't pout right now. I'll give you more later, or tomorrow, or both if you want. we need to do that more. you looked so beautiful, do you know that? absolutely perfect losing touch with reality under me." he falls onto the bed beside you and opens his arms for you to rest against his chest. he's moderately sticky with sweat but you don't care, just loving the physical contact spencer allows you to have at this moment. you start to drift off into sleep to the soothing sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat. he softly rouses you away and reminds you that you need to pee after sex, "to prevent a UTI, of course." you groan but pull yourself off of him as you tread to the bathroom, spencer's cum threatening to leak out of you and run down your thighs.

spencer enters the bathroom a few minutes to ask if you'd like to shower with him. "i wasn't super gentle with you this time, let me take care of you and clean you up."

who are you to deny him caring for you like he wants to? it feels better to give him what he wants.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #high!spencer #mgg x reader #tw weed #cam writes ᡣ𐭩

841 notes · View notes