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#clear glass bell
bitidragon · 1 year
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Medium Sun Room Boston Mid-sized trendy brick floor sunroom photo with a skylight
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pineapplesaresweet · 3 months
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mmm yummy crystal rendering
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kelbunny · 6 months
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Working on some updated reference sheets + slight redesigns of the Victory Bells protags, and in an attempt to make their heights proportional to one another, I drew their base sketches on one canvas to make sure things end up proportional haha
Anyways, for heights:
Coella Leverette - 5'4", Reynard Talis - 5'6", Olympia Chrysalis - 5'8", Darner Meadowhawk - 6'3", Virgil Pavo - 5'8", Athene Lilith - 5'11"
Older designs here
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awearywritersworld · 8 months
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megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader
tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.
ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.
gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"
gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"
gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"
honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?
he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?
apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.
he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.
while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.
his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.
and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.
he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—
"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.
while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"
oh.
gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.
megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.
"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.
you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."
gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.
"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.
your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.
"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"
"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.
the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.
you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.
he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."
this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.
gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.
"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"
just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.
"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"
nice.
"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.
you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.
megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"
"shut it, kid."
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sweetnans · 4 months
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Katsuki always paid attention to little details even when you were only a number in his mind. You ended number seven on the charts after the tests for UA application. He memorized the first ten and then recognized each one of you on the first day of class.
Your ID photo that appeared beside your score wasn't nothing alike like you were in person.
He completely flipped.
He pushed the feeling aside because he had no time to waste on stupid things, and he succeeded for a long, long time. Bakugo ignored you, pretended that you didn't exist and the fact that you were part of Midoriya's group the first months made it easy for him to keep you far away but that also made it hard to watch.
Why were you laughing at what shitty Deku had said? That fucker wasn't that funny.
Why was your hand on Deku's hair ruffling and combing it with your fingers?
He was fuming on the inside.
When Mina started to hang out with you, he was relieved that he won't have to see you with Deku again.
But then, you started to hang out with his group, and everyone loved you instantly. Kirishima always wanted to sparr with you, Kaminari always asked for your help on math and Sero, fucking Sero always inviting you to dance with him.
After he saw the behavior of his friends when it came to you, he almost preferred you hanging out with Deku.
He noticed that you smiled brightly every time Kirishima told you one of his dumbs jokes while having you pinned down on the floor mat after a sparr, but you never laughed.
He noticed your leg trembling under the table when you studied with Kaminari in the common room. He could bet that the bastard used every chance he got to flirt with you in the most hideous way.
He also noticed your pink tinted cheeks every time Sero gave you his hand for a quick dance around the kitchen.
Almost like you were uncomfortable with their demeanor.
You were pretty. He understood that they were making their moves to you, but you were just too shy and good to say anything to them, like you weren't interested at all for example.
One night, he couldn't sleep and went straight to the kitchen of the dorms to grab a glass of water. He never expected seeing you there scrolling in your phone leaning by the sink, waiting for the toaster to pop your bread out.
"You shouldn't be eating carbohydrates this late"
He startled you. He literally appeared from the shadows of the dining room dragging his feet, making no sound at all.
"Jeez, you should wear a bell or something," you giggled when he gave you a puzzled look. "Like a cat? So next time I know that you're coming?"
"I know what you meant." he walked to you and grabbed a glass from the rack.
He felt your presence in his bones like a static pulse vibrating under his skin. Maybe it was just your quirk trying to reach for him.
"What are you doing here this late?" You asked clearing your throat while he gulped his water in one go.
"What does it seem like I'm doing?" He pourred another glass. He wasn't that thirsty. He just wanted to be there in silence with you for minutes, without his obnoxious friends.
Your toast popped out of the toaster, and you grabbed it, burning your fingers in the process.
"Shit, shit," you exclaimed, blowing some air at your fingers to ease the pain.
"C'mere shithead," he grabbed your hand and put it under the sink, letting the cold water flow.
"It's fucking freezing" you tried to pull your hand back but his grip tightened.
"What did you expect? You just burned your fucking fingers doing the dumbest shit I've ever seen"
You didn't know if it was the serious tone on his voice or the way that he was struggling with you stopping you from taking your hand out of the water, but something about the scene made you let out a laugh, a big one. He had never seen you laugh like that before.
"Are you laughing at me?"
That question only made it worse. You were absolutely parting yourself from laughter. He turned off the water and watched you wipe your tears.
"I'm sorry, you're not that funny," you said, returning to your normal state. He grinned.
You passed by his side fetching your toast and poured some jam.
"Do you want some jammie toast with that water of yours?" You asked, offering a half eaten toast.
"Sure." he took the toast, and in return, he gave you his half glass of water.
After that encounter, he noticed that every time his friends were around you, you always tried to find him, looking for exchange glances, giving him a subtle smile.
He started to show up at your study sessions with Kaminari, and he noticed that your legs stopped trembling because his presence was enough for Kaminari to keep his mouth shut.
He also began sparring with you on training sessions switching partner with Kirishima leaving him with Sato.
And everytime Sero tried to dance with you in front of everybody he grabbed your arm and guided you to the kitchen or his room with a lame excuse to get you out of the situation.
Fortunately, his friend read the room pretty well. The three of them enjoyed more watching him play his cards with you than putting themselves on a constant shame.
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fairy-angel222 · 7 months
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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—how they breed you when you make them jealous
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎, 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smut, degradation, praise, breeding, baby trapping, mean doms, choking, exhibitionism, hair pulling, rough sex, spit, daddy kink, hair pulling, somnophilia
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✮ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
What the fuck did you think you were doing? Gojo seethed to himself. Who the fuck were you with and why were his hands on you. What would seem to be a normal friendly hug had blue eyes glaring at you through the cafe’s window.
Gojo plastered on a fake smile, the bell ringing as he walked through the door. You looked up with a wide smile, “baby.” Gojo’s eye twitched as the man behind you smiled too, “Hey man, Y/n’s told me so much about you.”
You frowned as your boyfriend took the man’s hand in a bruising grip, giving it an unnecessarily hard shake. “And you are?” He questioned, forcing himself to keep up the nice guy act.
“Oh, i’m Haru, an old friend of y/n’s” Gojo scoffed internally, his arm making its way around your waist. “Well, Haru, we’ve got to go now,”
Waving bye to your friend, you bit your lip as you looked up at the white haired man, “are you mad?” Gojo scoffed, “Nope.. not at all.”
A lie.
You found yourself sprawled out on the back seat of Gojo’s car in the parking lot for anyone to see. Your legs were spread up in the air as Gojo took his anger out on your cunt.
Your eyes were wet with tears as your boyfriend hammered into you. “How many times do i have to fucking tell you, hmm baby?” He scowled. “How do I get it in your dumb little brain that you’re mine.”
Gojo’s bright eyes darkened as he sped up his pace, thick cock ramming into your g spot with every thrust. Your boobs bounced as your body rocked with his hips, the entire vehicle being moved from side to side.
“Gonna have to fuck a baby into you to drill it in your head.” He grunted, not slowing the movement of his hips until you were shaking for him. Your eyes blurry with tears as small ‘m sorry’s left your mouth
“Good. You should be. Show me you’re really sorry and take it yeah? Take it nice and deep.” he groaned, hips rolling roughly into yours.
Small babbles and hiccups echoed throughout the small car, your hand gripping tightly onto the side of the seat as your orgasm washed over you. “F-fuck,” you moaned, pussy tightening around him as you creamed.
Gojo smirked, bottoming out inside you as his eyes met yours, slender fingers pushing themselves past your lips and resting at the back of your tongue. “Gonna fill you up kay baby? Gonna let everyone know that you’re my little slut only.” he growled.
You shook your head in protest, your little waits muffled by his fingers. Gojo cursed, his eyes never leaving yours as he bred you deep. “There we go, gonna look so pretty carrying my baby.”
Your eyes widened when you heard a throat clear awkwardly. Scurrying to cover up but being held down by your boyfriend instead. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you looked up to find Haru.
“U-uhm.. you f-forgot your sweater y/n.” His cheeks were beat red and his dick was strained against his pants. Never in a million years would he expect to see you like this.
Gojo grinned as he looked at the male, slowly pulling out of you to give your friend a sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. Haru’s breath hitched and Gojo’s head tilted. “Like what you see? Too bad you’ll never have it cause it’s mine.”
✮ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Silently watches as you innocently entertain two guys who were clearly flirting with you. How stupid could you possibly be. Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Nanami sighed. Did he always have to remind you that you belonged to him? You should have known that by now.
And you most certainly should have known that no man ever has innocent intentions. Getting up, Nanami walked up to you with a face void of any emotion. Tapping you twice on your back to indicate that it was time to go. You even had the audacity to tell the two men bye in your sickly sweet voice.
The ride home was silent.
You kept trying to strike up conversation but pouted when all you got in return were uninterested hums and nods. “Kentooo,” you whined. “Why won’t you talk to me?” you frowned. Your boyfriend simply glanced at you and scoffed. Watching as you rest your head against the car door and let your eyes close shut.
You woke up with a small whimper, soft moans falling past your lips. You felt so good, your pussy clenching around.. a cock?
Your eyes shot open to find Nanami in between your held up legs. His eyes dark as he hammered into you. His thick, veiny cock abusing your g spot as it fucked into your abdomen.
A loud mewl left your mouth as Nanami’s hand made its way around your neck. You felt so full, his cock stretching you out and forcing you to take him deep. Entire ten inches reaching deep within your belly. “K-kento.. so deep.” you whined.
Nanami grunted, tightening his grip on your neck to bully his entire cock into you. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, let you know who you who you fucking belong to.” He groaned, looking deep into your eyes with a glare.
You whimpered loudly, eyes blurry with tears as he fucked you dumb. “Nngh, ‘m cumming Kento, ‘m cumming so hard,” you sobbed, toes curling as you babbled out his name.
Nanami scowled as the thought of you with another man crossed his mind, his grip becoming a bruising one as he snapped his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace. “Fucking take it baby. This is exactly what you needed. Get it through your dumb head that you have an owner.” he spat, watching as you shook uncontrollably underneath him.
Screaming loudly as your body was rocked with his thrusts. Nanami groaned at the way you began to squirt, threatening to push his cock out at the mere pressure.
Stilling inside you, Nanami let his hot ropes of cum coat your insides. His hand around your neck finally loosening as he kept his cock plugged into your sopping cunt. You were his. Now you would have the stomach to show it.
✮ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
Watches with a smile as you dance. Taking note of all the men that were eyeing you like food. Eyeing you like you weren’t already owned. He was sat on the club’s couch with his legs crossed, arms spread out along the chair’s backrest and head tilted with a smirk. His eyes roamed his waist, his hips, and his ass. Every part of you was his.
And you knew that, you were just so oblivious to all the hungry stares directed at you. Toji stalks tall towards you. Towering over your figure and nodding towards the exit. Understanding that it was time to leave, you made your way outside to wait for your boyfriend in his vehicle.
Five minutes passed and you frowned in worry. Where was he? Your thoughts were cut off by the driver’s car door slamming shut. Toji using a rag to wipe blood off his bruised knuckles.
“Toji-” before you could open your mouth to speak, you received a warning glance from your boyfriend to keep your mouth shut. You swallowed hard, wondering what the hell your boyfriend had gotten into. Especially since he was smiling like a maniac as he drove.
At home, you found yourself on your hands and knees, loud moans and mewls spilling past your plump, drool filled lips.
Toji’s thick cock pounded into you hard. His hips snapping roughly into yours. Rough hands held your hips in a bruising grip, his cock forcing its way deep into your tight hole and ramming into your g spot with each movement.
You let out a loud cry, the flesh of your ass shaking with each contact. “F-fuck— d-daddy, nngh, feels so good,” you whined, a yelp leaving your mouth as you were yanked up by your hair. Your back flat against his chest allowing him to fuck you even deeper.
Toji had one hand tangled in your hair, the other held your throat. Your whimpers and moans echoing in the small room as your pussy squelched lewdly. Toji’s smirk never faltered, kissing up your neck and to your ear.
You clenched hard when he groaned softly, deep voice rasping in your ear “Fuck you’re taking daddy so good, gonna fill you up with another Fushiguro hmm? Gonna look so hot all round and swollen with my son. Your tits leaking with milk for daddy to take care of you. Does my little slut want that?”
You whimpered loudly at his words, clenching down on his cock as heat built up in your stomach. “Mhm, wanna feel you deep. Wan’ carry your baby so bad.” you mewled. Eyes rolling back as Toji rolled his hips up into yours.
Toji brought his teeth down on your skin hard, nearly drawing blood as you moaned. Pulling your head back even further, Toji leaned down to press his lips against yours, sloppily swallowing your moans before pulling away with a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Your mouth hung open in short pants, your boyfriend letting a thick glob of his spit fall onto your tongue. “Fuck, gonna show all these assholes that you’re mine yeah? They probably won’t even live to see it.” You let out a silent scream, feeling Toji’s cock absolutely destroying your gummy walls.
“O-oh fuck, d-daddy, ahh,” you moaned, body trembling as you reached your orgasm. “Gonna cum, fuck, gon’ cum on your cock.” Little incoherent chants of his name falling past your lips.
“Cum f’me baby, make a fucking mess.” He groaned, tightening his hold on your neck as your slick dripped down his cock with one final cry. “There we go,” he grunted, thrusts getting sloppy as he buried himself deep inside you, ropes after ropes of sticky cum painting your guts white.
Your knees felt weak as you came down from your high. Eyes fluttering closed as you steadied your breathing.
“Now, who do you belong to, baby?”
“You.. i belong to you,”
“Good girl. Might even keep my cock in you so that you don’t spill any of daddy’s cum.” He chuckled, knowing full well that he was being serious.
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mv1simp · 26 days
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Cuffing Szn ♥️
Max Verstappen x MidSize!Reader
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it's cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy (I need a big boy, give me a big boy)
As Max Verstappen's new girlfriend, you're one of the few WAGs on the grid who isn't a model and the only one, you think self consciously, who doesn't look like a model either. Good thing your big, strong boyfriend is here to set the record straight about how much he disagrees with you.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, trigger warning: explicit discussion about eating disorder and body dysmorphia, dom!max, sub!reader, size kink, this is just a shameless excuse for me to write smut about max's thighs, 3.3k WC
When you'd delivered one of your favourite patient's 3rd baby, handing over the healthy, crying pale blob (after thoroughly wiping it down because, you know) with a congratulations, Victoria, its a boy! you hadn't expected to catch the eye of the patient's very attractive, tall older brother at her side.
But as you walked off down the hallway once the baby checks were done, you were surprised to find Max stopping you with a large but gentle hand on your shoulder. You'd seen him a couple of times in Victoria's pregnancy, accompanying her and her husband at the ultrasound checks leading upto the delivery. You'd secretly thought he was so adorable with the way he handled his nieces and nephews patiently while his sister got scanned.
You'd also thought he looked positively delectable in his white linen shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders, and skinny jeans that clung to some of the thickest thighs you'd seen a man be blessed with. But making bedroom eyes at patient's hot family members was generally frowned upon (although not explicitly prohibited in the Hippocratic Oath, one could argue) so you promptly forgot about the handsome blonde 5 minutes later when the emergency bell went off.
But he stood before you that day, looking every bit as attractive as you remembered, even more so with a pink dusting on his cheeks as he asked if this was the last time you'd be looking after Victoria?
You tilted your head quizzically at him, your neck a little strained from looking up at his 6 foot frame from your 5"1 one. Yes it is, you informed him, and because new families often got anxious, you sweetly added that it was a good thing, to not see you again, because it meant darling Victoria and her baby are both healthy.
He confuses you again by saying that he was hoping to see you again. Oh! You smile excitedly, are you and your wife expecting? You pull out your clinic card and tell him that you're actually all booked out for the year but you'll make an exception for Victoria's brother.
His blush deepens. (Somewhere in a hospital broom cupboard, Lando Norris was filming this scene unfold and cackling.) Max rapidly explained that he's not expecting. Oh, and he's not married. And also he doesn't have a girlfriend. Basically, I'm single - he finally stammers out. (Rizzless and bitchless, Lando texts him). Thankfully, at this point you had caught on that Max was trying to ask you out, and after a quick phone call to the legal team to confirm you were clear, you turn back around to inform him cheekily that he could pick you up at 8pm Friday night for dinner. (Wait, this actually worked? a flabbergasted Lando now texts.) The emergency pager then goes off so you gently tug on Max's shirt to hint that you want him to bring his face down, give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, and sprint off to Ward 6.
The dinner goes perfectly, with Max's charm returning in full force after a G&T - Sorry about earlier, schat, you're such a gorgeous woman and a very smart doctor, it makes me nervous - leading to a 2nd date and then a 3rd and then to a weekend trip in a romantic Nice winery, where you can't resist jumping into his muscly arms after a glass of wine and demanding he have his way with you. (He does. Very thoroughly. Multiple times that night, and the morning after. Thinking about it still has you blushing.)
6 months later, you two are officially going out and you're making your first appearance as his girlfriend at the races. You had carefully dressed in a classy Mirror Palais dress, complete with matching heels to save your poor boyfriend having to bend down too much. You'd also become rather turned on at seeing your normally soft, gentle cat dad of a boyfriend turn into an absolute menace once the Redbull suit is zipped up, terrorising his way all the way to P1 and living up to his nickname of the Dutch lion. As his assistant guides you to the podium ceremony, you're stopped by various fans who compliment your outfit and ask for pictures. The media attention is very new to you, as Max had been very insistent on protecting your privacy as you two established yourselves as a couple. But everyone had been so nice today - until you started noticing the dirty looks thrown your way, glaring up and down your form. And then, a couple of snide comments from passing fans about how you were very confident to wear such a body hugging dress, especially with your curvy figure.
You roll your eyes at their clearly jealous tones, and walk over to the podium ceremony to greet your boyfriend. He breaks into an adorable grin when he sees you, his whole face lighting up as he easily scoops you up for a deep kiss. The cameras around you two go crazy, but don't pick up his whispers when he sets you down and leans in, telling you that you looked so pretty today, schat, he'd been staring at you so much GP had to tell him to focus, and how was your first race? nobody gave you a hard time, did they? You don't miss the way his eyes are attentively focused on your face, clearly still worried about the damage he had warned you about before you agreed to go public.
You aren't going to spoil his win over a couple of snide comments. Not at all, baby you reassure, before whispering back that he looked really hot in his tight fireproofs, could he pretty please bring them home later when you give him his reward for such a good performance on the track? The tip of Max's ears go pink as he struggles to maintain a straight face for the cameras. Giggling, you press a kiss to his cheek and murmur you'll see him after his interviews.
Later though, when Max is in his interview across the paddock and you're being introduced to the other WAGs, you can't help but notice how different they all look in their body hugging dresses compared to you. Although you wouldn't be called fat, you aren't slim either, and you're nowhere near the tiny, trim figures the other girls maintain. Once the seed of insecurity is planted, it's very hard to stop it growing out of control - and at each race or public event or launch party you attend at Max's side, you start to pick apart more and more insecurities about yourself. How you're so much shorter than the numerous models on the grid, making you feel childish and round compared to their lithe gracefulness. How their delicate collarbones and ribs can clearly be seen at all times, but yours only if you twisted your neck a certain way. And they're all so lovely, chatting eagerly with you and interested to hear about your work, asking if you'd take so-and-so on as a patient, you had a great reputation already even though you were a new doctor in Monaco! The conversations distract you from your worries for a bit.
But afterwards, when you'd be laughing at cat memes online and sending them to your boyfriend, you'd come across the paparazzi pics of you speaking to the WAGs and felt sick to your stomach at how huge you thought you looked compared to everyone else, clearly standing out as the plainest one amongst their flawless faces. Some of the comments agreed, saying that it was just sad that the best driver on the grid had the ugliest girlfriend, and couldn't Max buy his gf some ozempic with all his tax evasion money? Comments that would have made you laugh at the originality now suddenly had you sobbing, and you're glad you hadn't stayed at Max's tonight and had to explain the state you were in.
When you'd been younger, in college, you'd started struggling with managing your stress levels given you were a perfectionist working towards a very difficult medical degree. Having always been a stress eater, you frequently binged on junk food, and obviously ended up gaining quite a bit of weight. Your family and ex boyfriend had ridiculed you endlessly, and so the year after you had to work hard and lose it all, which you had managed to do. You'd mentioned this to Max in passing, a couple months into dating when he'd spotted an old college picture of you and muttered so fucking cute, pocketing it.
You didn't tell Max about how you'd lost the weight though - with a vicious binging and purging cycle for the better chunk of a year. You'd grown out of that "phase" once you'd left college, or so you thought - because it was almost too easy to slip back into it now, to enjoy the sick pleasure at barely eating all day and seeing the weight drop on the scale, then bingeing on whatever you wanted because it didn't count, you'd throw it up anyways. You had to be very careful with it this time round, because your boyfriend's attentive gaze had been fixed on you even more so than usual - noting how you've been wearing higher heels, how your dresses are still as gorgeous as ever but never body hugging anymore, how you spend hours before a race now perfecting your makeup instead of joining him in the garage and don't spend the nights at his anymore. You weasel your way out of his questions when he asks you repeatedly if everything was okay, schat?
But you weren't able to fool him any longer after attending a charity gala for one of his sponsors. You'd actually been happy with your appearance for once, pleased with your slimmer waist this month, but as the night went on you started to feel the fatigue of starving yourself catching up, leaning more and more into Max's side as he glanced at you with concern. Rubbing your back soothingly, he asked if you wanted to leave early, but you shook your head, murmuring you were okay, your feet just hurt a little is all. He frowned then, hating to see you in pain just to be dressed up for some stupid event he couldn't care less about. Bringing you to the empty lobby, he told you he was going to grab your coats and have the car brought round, end of discussion, you need to rest, okay liefje? You didn't have it in you to protest any longer so just nodded. You hadn't realised just how much you'd been leaning on him until he left, and as stars started entering your vision, Max returned just in time to catch you before you stumbled.
You felt him firmly grab your waist, fully supporting your weight as he led you out to the car, lowering you gently into the seat and even buckling you in. You started feeling a bit better inside his Aston Martin with the aircon on, nibbling on a high protein low calorie bar you'd stashed in your clutch. Regaining your alertness, you notice the tense atmosphere, with a stormy expression on Max's face as he drove rather furiously through the Monaco streets, his hand not even resting on your thigh like it usually did but gripping the wheel tightly. Maxie - you begin uncertainly, hoping to diffuse the tension and ask why he was upset, but he cuts you off with a terse Don't. Let's wait till we're home.
So you wait, until you're both walking in through the front door. Max rips off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves, but he still doesn't talk and instead heads to the kitchen. You follow him, sitting on a barstool to admire how he still looked so handsome in the fitted sky blue shirt and tight navy pants, even when he was clearly mad. As Max starts cooking, his back to you, he tells you about how growing up his sister Victoria had to go to therapy for a long time because she wouldn't stop throwing up every time she ate because their father told her she was too fat (despite looking like a buffalo himself, Max snorts as he sets down a simple but delicious plate of chicken pesto pasta with salad in front of you), about how Max has seen countless girlfriends on the paddock purposely avoid eating all day, including his already stick thin model exes, and how Max himself would be called fat every month or the other by some trashy gossip magazine, because the media is just fucking toxic, he hisses. This is why I wanted to keep us hidden away from the cameras. He glances pointedly at your plate, where you've eaten the salad and chicken and not touched your pasta. You sigh and pick up your fork, slowly working your way through the food as you tell him that you suppose your diet had somewhat...spiralled out of control, but honestly, Max, I'm completely fine, and you two can't avoid the cameras forever given how he's the frickin F1 winner at all-
Don't tell me that you're fine. Do you really think I don't know what's going on? Max demands tersely with crossed arms. Finally finished with your meal, you hop off the stool to neatly place your plate in the sink, ignoring his question. Standing behind you, he watches you wash the dishes, still not even reaching his chin, even in those damn 6 inch heels you're still wearing. You do respond when he asks you just why you're putting your body through such torture.
C'mon, Max you say with an eyeroll, You know why, I need to lose some weight, I'm so much heavier compared to all the other girls and all your exes, and you deserve to have a girlfriend who looks-
Don't tell me what I do or don't deserve, schat. I always want the best and that's why I picked you. You're really gonna question the choice of a world champion, hmm? Max's deep voice is now right by your ears as he leans down behind you. You feel a shiver run up the back on your spine as he curls his huge arms possessively around your waist and thighs. He continues his whispers, his hands roaming up to your plush tits and another squeezing your ass, telling you You're so goddamn pretty. Every single part of you, just for me, making you bite your lip and breathily moan from his affections - it'd been a while since he'd had his way with you with all your avoidance, after all.
You feel him slowly unzip your dress, and the silk easily falls to the ground, leaving you only in your stiletto heels and a deep red lingerie set he’d gifted you for your 3 month anniversary. You tense, already feeling self conscious, but before you can say anything Max has wrapped a large hand around your waist and easily flipped you around to sit on the kitchen counter. You gasp from the action, hands automatically going to rest on his broad shoulders as your face comes level with his.
I haven’t made it clear just how lucky I am to have such a beautiful girl all to myself, schat, Max says huskily, before pulling away to unbutton his shirt, his blue eyes darkening as they roam over your pretty tits spilling over in the lacey bra, over your cute plush tummy, and over those deliciously soft thighs he adores. His hungry stare is really starting to drive you wild now, and you beg at him to hurry up and finish undressing. Chuckling, he throws his pants to the side as well, now only wearing his tight boxers. He pulls you forward on the counter so you're flush against him. See what you do to me, sweet girl? Hmm? he grinds the very prominent bulge in his boxers against your own damp core, making you gasp. You get me so hard and you haven't even touched me yet, that's the kind of power you have over me.
At his words, you don’t hold back from running your hand all along Max’s well defined chest. Your boyfriend is so much bigger than you and it's incredibly sexy. He towers over you easily with his 6 foot frame, all wide shoulders and swollen biceps and muscled thighs, and you don't hide the hypnotised look in your eyes as you trace from his thick neck down to his slutty waist, desire and desperation coursing through you, replacing any inhibitions you'd had earlier.
He grasps one of your wandering hands in his own, his larger palm easily dwarfing your tiny one and making you bite your lip at the difference in size. His attentive gaze doesn't miss this either, and with a low hmm he brazenly asks if you found it as hot as he did, the fact that you were the perfect size for him to snap into half if he wanted? He knows he's got you right where he wants as your pupils go wide with desire, breath hitching at the thought of your big boyfriend using his strength against you for once.
Then he's pulling apart your pretty little set, lace ripping and a large hand easily wraps around your entire throat, pulling you into a breathless kiss that has you moaning at his skilled tongue. You barely have time to collect yourself when he suddenly lifts you up by the waist, biceps flexing, and your eyes widen as you're lifted impossibly high in the air and find yourself straddling his thick shoulders, his face now at the perfect height to bury his tongue into your dripping pussy right in front of him. Max! you squeal, utterly ruined by his impressive display of strength. You're desperately scrambling for purchase at the cabinets behind you, head banging back against the wall as he relentlessly thrusts his wicked tongue into your puffy folds.
And he only sets you down after you cum obediently all over greedy lips like he demands you to do, then gently carries your shaky form to the bedroom to show you multiple more examples of how you were just made to take him, truly the perfect girl for him, weren't you? You'd been too blissfully fucked out by that point to form a coherent response.
Needless to say, you find yourself caring very little next time strangers had anything to say about the way you looked, thanks to Max's hands on affections (he'd also taken you to therapy like the supportive boyfriend he was, bless him.) He'd quickly formed a personal favourite method to prove to you just how desperate he was for you and how you had the world champion in the palm of your hand, whenever he saw that look flicker into your eyes from time to time. He'd take you back home, make you undress yourself for his hungry gaze, then lift you up into his arms, folding your thighs up against your waist from where he held them. You’d moan as he slid into you, bouncing your whole body onto his hard cock like you were a ragdoll, making you scream his name endlessly as he fucked you mid-air.
And sometimes, when he was feeling particularly possessive, he'd flip you around, pressing your back to his toned chest, as he made you watch with him in the mirror how he obscenely slid in and out of your dripping pussy. Whispering in your ear that see, like he had told you, he had such good taste, don't I, schat? And as you met his heated gaze through the reflective surface, clenching around him when you saw the pure love and raw desire in his eyes, you couldn't help but agree.
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A/N: guys can you guess I have a thing for boys who are big. Big boys, if you well. Someone just let me sit on Max’s lap goddamn 💸💸 as always lmk what you think and if u have any requests!!
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januaryembrs · 1 month
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MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [BONUS]
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Description: the NINE months of pregnancy
Word count: 10.9k
warnings: pregnancy duh, babies, giving birth, c-section, ummm body fluids? lots of emotions, nausea & sickness, talks of weight gain and stretch marks.
authors note: y'all... there you have it. I will be back to finish their story but until then this is my goodbye piece until I have finished my hiatus to write my own book and start uni (again). I can't wait to take these two (three) on the final lap they deserve but for now.. I hope you enjoy pookies being pookies.
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MONTH ONE. The one where she finds out.
She hadn’t meant to find out when she did. It had been just a routine implant swap that she’d had twice already in the last six years. 
“Any blood clotting, any pain at all?” The nurse asked, jotting down a few notes on her form as she sat back on the bed and waiting for the numbing cream to take hold. 
She shook her head. “It’s weird as hell to feel and when I think about it too long it freaks me out, but no, no pain,” She said and the nurse chuckled, nudging her glasses up her nose.
“And finally, is there any chance that you’re pregnant?” She asked, no doubt having rehearsed the same script about thirty times that day alone.
Bugsy gave her a flat smile, “Small chance, but I guess that’s what this is for, huh?” 
The nurse looked at her then, as if mulling over the words before she said something, “Small chance?”
“I mean, nothing is a hundred percent effective,” Bugsy tried to weasel her way out of the awkward conversation, because she had absolutely no intention of letting the nurse know her and Spencer had been at it like bunnies since the Hotch had forced them to take medical leave. Who knew having so much time on her hands with her very handsome boyfriend would have that effect? 
The nurse pursed her lips, and already the woman felt like she’d said too much. 
“Alright, we’re going to do a routine test, just need a quick urine sample,” Bugsy felt her cheeks heat, though she was in no position to argue. Her discomfort must have been more obvious than she thought, however, as the nurse went on to explain, “If I give you this implant and there’s a fertilised egg, it can lead to ectopic pregnancy, in which case you’ll need surgery. Trust me, honey, peeing in a cup is your easy option,” 
She gave the practitioner a small nod, wondering if she needed to message Spencer to say she’d be running a little late. She knew he was likely doing the sudoku in the waiting room magazine, since he’d refused to let her come alone. And even though she’d told him she would be fine on her own, he’d seen through it, had even offered to get her ice cream on the way home for putting on a brave face. 
And yet her face was nothing short of horror struck not even half an hour later when the nurse showed her the stick with empathetic eyes. 
“Congratulations,” The woman said cautiously, a fake smile plastered on her face as the girl stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. 
“But, I thought…” Bugsy stammered, running a finger over where the nurse had removed her implant, “But I had everything ready, I never let it get late, I did what I was supposed to,” 
“You said it yourself, honey, nothing is a hundred percent effective besides abstinence-” 
“That’s just what parents say to make sure their kids aren’t banging every Tom, Dick and Harry out there!” Bugsy was near screeching, the worry in her tone clear as a bell and her chest hot with panic. 
Pregnant. She was pregnant, there was no way she could be…
Except there was exactly a way she could be, seeing as she struggled even on a dry spell to keep her hands off Spencer longer than a few days at a time. And he was just as bad.
The nurse huffed, rifling through her drawers for a handful of pamphlets. She passed them to Bugsy whose mouth was still bobbing with more expletives she held herself back from saying, and it wasn’t until she saw the happy couple on the front of the first one, holding a very swollen and round bump that she thought she might be sick. 
Comical timing, she hissed at herself. 
“There are always options, sweetheart. Abortion is legal in Virginia, if that is what you decide, however there is always information and support that we recommend looking into before you make a solid decision,” Her response was professional even though her expression was compassionate, and Bugsy knew she must have looked scared because that was exactly how she felt and she had little to no room to hide it. 
Abortion? Is that what she wanted? Except it wasn’t just about what she wanted, it was what Spencer wanted too. Even if he would argue against that being the case in a heartbeat, even if he would tell her she had every right to be the only one to make a decision, no matter what he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so much about needing his opinion for that reason, and more it was because she had absolutely no clue what to do and Spencer was always good at making sense of the things she didn’t know how to deal with. 
She nodded silently, her mouth dry as sandpaper as she took the leaflets and stuffed them in the bottom of her purse where she hoped Spencer wouldn’t go looking. 
She barely remembered standing on liquid legs, barely remembered the way her chest felt tight and her head spun as she thought of the fact her body had a baby growing inside it. 
No, it wasn’t a baby. Not yet. It was likely the size of a grain of sand, miniscule. That wasn’t a baby, that was nothing. 
But it would be. Eventually. It would be hers and Spencer’s baby.
And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him the second she saw him there in the waiting room, his head shooting up the second the door opened and she left looking a little ill and shaken. 
“All done? Everything go as normal?”  He preened, standing immediately as she neared him, his hand immediately weaving around her shoulder to pull her close by. Gently, ofcourse, because she had a big, fat bandage where her implant should have been. 
“Y-yeah,” She stammered, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in her throat. Yet she knew immediately that he did. Because he leaned in to give her a delicate kiss to her forehead not even a moment later, “C-can we go straight home, I’m not feeling ice cream anymore,” 
He looked worried, as anyone who knew her would because Bugsy turning down free pudding was a blaring red siren in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” He said, stroking a gentle hand over the side of her head and leading her where he’d parked the car. 
And it was that worry, the same cloud that hung over him for months with Scratch and his mom and the Dirty Dozen and everything else that was put onto his shoulder that made her shut her mouth right then and there. He didn’t need one other thing to contend with, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world. 
And so she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet at least.
MONTH TWO. The one with the scan.
“Spence, would you stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be fine,” She urged in the gentlest tone she could muster. Yet she was a hypocrite, because she felt her hands shaking as she sat in the chair, trying to adjust her sleeves for something to do and Spencer stopped his leg from bouncing. 
Looking over at her, he sighed, holding out a large palm and weaving her fingers in between his and she flicked a look over at him, her own eyes nervous. 
“I’m sorry,” He gave her a guilty smile, “If it helps, it’s half excitement too,”
And she smiled then, shaking her head as he squeezed her hand gently. 
“Me too,” She confessed, looking down at her stomach that didn’t seem all too different than usual. She’d felt a few symptoms up until this point, a bit of nausea but that was nothing she couldn’t handle, headaches here and there. But it wasn’t anything exactly life changing that she’d expected when she’d always thought of pregnancy. 
If anything, none of it felt real quite just yet. Having only been a few weeks since she’d told Spencer, they’d spent the majority of the time searching for houses and appointments and gynaecologists and neonatal care, and whenever they were free, they were trying to get used to the idea of the two of them as parents.
“Did you know they’re around half an inch long by now,” Spencer said, his hazel eyes falling to where her shirt hid her stomach that had yet to change no matter how many times he stared at it, “About a third of that is made up of their head,”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” She shrugged, stroking her thumb along the edge of his pinky finger, “It’s your kid, they’re going to have biggest brain out there,” 
He snickered, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it softly, “If they have even half your brains, we’re going to be raising the next Galileo,” 
“Mr and Mrs Reid,” Their heads shot up at the midwife, Bugsy fumbling for words to correct him as the two of them stood up to greet him with bashful smiles. She didn’t need to look at Spencer’s face to know he’d gone bright red. 
“It’s uh, Prentiss-Reid,” Spencer spluttered as they entered and the nurse looked again at his chart with wide eyes, his cheeks a little pink himself and he ushered the two of them into his office with a smile. 
“So it is, I do apologise,” He said earnestly, holding a hand out to gesture Bugsy to sit on the reclining bed, “I hate to stereotype, but usually when dad books the appointments, its because their wives are already doing a hundred other things,” 
“It’s okay, it happens,” She said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding Spencer’s eyes because they still hadn’t had that talk. Even though she knew her mother would frown at her grandchild being born a bastard, she didn’t care much for Elizabeth’s opinion. It wasn’t like marriages had ever led to good things for her mother anyway. 
She hopped up onto the examination cot, her heart quivering just the slightest in worry because the smell of bleach and rubber made the whole thing real. Until then, having a grain of rice growing inside her seemed like a fever dream since she’d only had a handful of side effects, throwing up could have easily been passed off as bad chicken, the head aches could have just been her eyes straining from using her computer too much. 
“Okay, everything feels okay, Mom? Nothing concerning at all?” And then the midwife said things like that, mom, and the part of her that almost forgot she was pregnant came to a screeching halt. 
She’d be a mom. Someone would call her mom. The thought of it made her suck in a breath.
“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat and felt Spencer grab her hand, “Morning sickness is kicking my ass, but nothing worrying,”
The nurse chuckled, and she felt Spencer rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, his eyes burning into the side of her head. 
“Well, if it’s alright, I need you to lift your shirt up a little so we can have a see what’s going on,” He said with a kind smile, and she realised then he’d slipped latex gloves over his hands, and brandished a bottle of gel. 
She nodded absently, doing as he said and lifting her shirt to sit under her breasts, drawing the hem of her skirt down so he had a space to apply. And the second he did she sucked in breath through her nose, the cold of the air conditioning chilling her to her marrow, and she tried telling herself that’s why her hands were shaking. 
She felt Spencer’s fingers curve through her hair, and she reminded herself to breathe, looking over at him with nervous eyes she hoped he didn’t see straight through. But judging by the way he scooted the chair forward and gave her an encouraging smile, she guessed he’d seen the flicker of doubt in an instant. 
“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine,” He murmured, his own fear buried deep somewhere she couldn’t see anymore the second she had been the one to look to him for help. She knew she wanted this, knew she’d always dreamed of Spencer and her having their happily ever after. She knew whenever she’d let herself think of a little boy with chocolate curls and hazel eyes that she wanted all of that and more. 
But it was all so… real. Like seeing a movie come to life, and she was starring centre stage. Her body wasn’t a disposable shell that held thirty plus years of stupid mistakes and regrets and tattoos she’d decided she hated now. Her body had a whole other human inside it. 
The midwife clicked the machine on, the transducer wand ready in his hand as he gently put it on her lower stomach, barely a few centimetres from her panties, and she wondered why they showed the wand roaming over the woman’s belly button on tv shows since that was entirely wrong and not nearly as embarrassing. She let out a shaky breath, and Spencer stroked her head again, forcing her to give him an unsure look, like she was trying to calm herself for his sake but couldn’t.
His eyes were anxious though he squeezed her again with a smile and she saw it immediately, like he too was trying to be brave for her. 
She had never loved him so much. 
“Apologies for the shock, I know the gel can be a little cold,” The nurse said with a grin, and it was only then she realised the screen had lit up with a black and white image, one she’d seen a thousand times when she’d studied neonatal procedures for her degree. 
She knew that was her womb lining, and that was the amniotic fluid and that right there-
Bugsy froze, and judging by the way Spencer’s hand tightened around her own, he had too. She felt her mouth drop with a laugh of shock, and she sat up slightly to take a closer look at the monitor. 
“And there is baby,” The midwife said, his expression warming as he watched Spencer’s stand up to lean over the bed, not once letting go of the woman’s hand, the two of them utterly enraptured in the screen, “Probably about the size of a raspberry,”
And Bugsy laughed, her eyes lined with tears as she looked up at Spencer’s equally wetted hues. He was grinning from ear to ear when he looked down at her, and it wasn’t long before he brought his lips to her forehead, his nose and throat burning with a held cry. 
“Do you hear that? A whole raspberry already?” She said, her voice wobbling and he giggled, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his cheeks with his sleeve. “I am good at this cooking thing, might as well call me an easy bake oven,”
Spencer shook his head with another chuckle, his eyes trailing back to the little blob on the screen that looked more like a toy alien than anything else, and held her hand between both of his like he was in prayer. 
Because Spencer never believed in anything sacred and divine until he met Bugsy.
MONTH THREE. The one where they tell everyone.
“What are you doing?” Bugsy jumped out of her skin as JJ all but materialised behind her. She looked over her shoulder guiltily, her hand still half way through pouring out her mug of coffee Derek had handed her before he left to get lunch. 
She turned to see the blonde with her own steaming mug of decaf in her hands. She’d been taking the lack of caffeine much better this time around since having a second baby to breastfeed, considering she was nothing short of evil when she’d had Henry, which had been Spencer’s words not Bugsy’s. And it wasn’t as if the woman could blame her. She was grouchy when she didn’t get her regular dose even before being pregnancy, Derek had once gotten a kick to the shin when he’d disturbed her on a day she’d been too busy to grab one on her way to the office. 
She was a fiend for the bitter god. And everyone knew it. Which was exactly why JJ’s eyebrows were all but raised into her hairline seeing the girl who would usually be in the stages of withdrawal by now tipping the drink away. 
“Uh, the milk tasted funky,” She excused, though the way JJ narrowed her eyes at the poor excuse told her it hadn’t passed by a mile. 
“Right, the milk that Hotch picked up this morning?” JJ pursed her lips, sliding her own mug onto the side and jutting her hip. 
And as if he were summoned, Hotch sidled up to the kitchenette, Rossi and Tara hot on his heels as they flicked through some paperwork, and his head shot up the minute he heard his name. 
His eyes trailed to where the girl flipped her mug upside on the drying rack, and his brow furrowed. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked, and she huffed in response, wiping her hands on her jeans. 
“Yes, I’m fine,” She grumbled, shaking her head, “I don’t know what you’re all so wound up about, it’s not like I’m dying, I just don’t feel like coffee today-”
“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped where she crept behind Hotch with her very favourite octopus mug in tow, one that was nearly thrown to the floor when she heard the words pour from the girl’s mouth, “Are you sick? Like in the body or in the head? Rossi, check her pulse, I’m going to get a thermometer-”
“Pen, I’m fine,” She said unconvincingly and she tried to skirt past the group that seemed to have her surrounded. Seeing Spencer pulling up the rear in search of lunch she felt herself sigh in relief, because he would think of a much better excuse than she ever could. 
She had barely been able to keep her mouth shut for the months they had been secretly dating, and had relished in the peace it brought her when everyone knew. But the midwife had said it was common to keep things under wraps at least until the first trimester was over. Apparently the million of questions that were sure to be heading their way would cause her unnecessary stress, though she’d argue having to sneak to the sink every morning and dispose of a delicious looking coffee was torture enough. 
“What’s up?” Spencer asked as she ducked towards him, his hand consciously wrapping around her waist, and she huffed again, looking to him with a silent plea.
“They’re profiling me,” Bugsy said, and he felt his gut knot because he should have known it wouldn’t be long before they caught on. It was their job to pick apart out of the ordinary behaviour, and Bugsy going teetotal on caffeine was definitely something of a head turner.
“I told you that diet would cause a stir,” He joked, hoping they bought his pathetic attempt of an excuse, as he gave her side a gentle squeeze, and hoped that he could lead her back to her desk like she was a lost little lamb being prowled upon by nosy wolves that rarely took no for an answer. 
And it almost worked, almost, until JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at his wandering hand. 
“See that, that is the fourth time you’ve been all touchy and weird this week,” The blonde surprised, her brows furrowing, “Bugsy hates PDA, usually by now she would have whacked you over the head and called you a perv,”
Bugsy smashed her lips together because she couldn’t exactly disagree with her. That’s exactly what she usually did. Usually would tell Spencer to stop being so horny in a place of work even if she felt her cheeks heat at the delicate grabs of her stomach fat. 
But whether it was the little bean now around the size of a small lemon that had made her mellow and affectionate, or whether the lack of caffeine really was making her feel vulnerable, she wasn’t sure. And the whole thing was only made worse by Hotch’s eyes burning into the side of her, and she felt the trail of his gaze head straight for her stomach. 
“Come to think of it, I only saw you with a lime and soda at Savannah’s birthday last week,” Rossi pointed out, wagging his finger in her direction, his brown hues widening in thought, “When Penelope asked if you wanted tequila you said-”
“I’m all tequila-ed out,” Penelope chimed in with the same frown, “But that can’t be, when have you ever been tequila-ed out, that’s like impossible, even that night we had to help Spencer get you in the shower because you’d thrown up everywhere you were demanding more,”
She felt her cheeks heat thinking about her twenty ninth birthday, or atleast the parts of it she could remember of it before the rest of the gaps were filled with black spaces of time that she guessed had been robbed from her by the shots she piled on. 
“Maybe I just didn’t feel like tequila, can a girl not live in the moment?” She tried to rebuttal, only Penelope gave her a blank look that told her to try again because the Bugsy she knew would slap her for saying something so dumb. She opened her mouth to correct her again, but Hotch beat her to it. 
“You know Hayley got really affectionate a couple months into being pregnant,” The man said, his eyes swirling with something proud and warm when he saw Bugsy’s head flick to him like she’d been caught red handed, which they had. “Though, if you ask me I think she was just a little sorry for herself that I took the coffee away,”
There was a beat of silence, and the room held its breath. Even Tara, who had only known them the best part of a few months raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Bugsy shot a look at Spencer in utter defeat. 
“We tried,” She said with her shoulders shrugging, and it was then that the office was filled with a piercing scream that turned a fair few heads and the infamous octopus mug was thrown clear across the kitchen floor, one of his tentacles snapping clean off. 
“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE? YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Penelope wailed like a banshee, and Bugsy couldn’t help but break into a smile, nodding at the woman who screeched again and yanked her in for a tight hug, “Oh my god, there's going to be three of you, three geniuses, three little einsteins that I want to smush together and kiss all over-” 
“Garcia, I think she needs air if she’s going to make another little genius,” Rossi said, and the tech analyst pulled away aghast, cupping Bugsy’s face that was still grinning ear to ear with a chuckle.
“Oh my god, I didn’t hurt you did I? Or the baby- Oh my god there’s a baby in there!” 
Hotch wrapped a rare yet tender arm around Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a little pat and a “Congratulations” while Rossi smiled knowingly between the couple and JJ had her turn smothering Bugsy in a tearful hug. 
And by the time Derek had walked into the office with his everything bagel hanging between his teeth and a tea in his hands, his onyx hues fell to Penelope, JJ and Bugsy exchanging weepy words while Tara handed them tissues with her own sparkling eyes.
“What fresh hell did I miss?”
MONTH FOUR. The one where she starts looking different.
She huffed, her fingers gripping the edge of her jeans and yanking them up her thighs as far as they would go. She felt like everything had shrunk in the wash, or like she was trying on a doll’s wardrobe. Surely she hadn’t gained that much weight in just a few months, but then again she’d been all but living off chocolate pudding cups since the Bean decided it wanted sugar, sugar and more sugar. 
She grunted in annoyance, her arms and back aching where she was leaning over to pull at the infernal things. She barely had a second to pout childishly, before kind hands were wrapping around her stomach and a mouth kissed at her neck tenderly. 
“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” His voice was honey sweet, thick and goopy with love overflowing as he pulled her to his chest, his hand caressed the bump that seemed to be getting in the way of her and her favourite jeans. Spencer knew she tried to ignore the symptoms that almost every woman felt during pregnancy, he knew she compared herself to how JJ had handled both pregnancies gracefully and looked better than ever even as a mother of two. He knew she hated complaining because she didn’t want him to think she was miserable carrying their kid, but god was she getting sick of her clothes pinching her in.
“I’m getting fatter,” Bugsy grumbled, her eyes darting to the vivid lines that had deepened into the crease of her hips within a few weeks and she winced, “I’m not even halfway, how does this kid want to eat pudding all the time?” 
Spencer frowned, shaking his head slightly because he refrained from telling her what a silly statement it was, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead pressed delicate kisses to her jaw, squeezing her closer. He’d noticed the stretch marks, just as he’d noticed her face and hips gathering weight a bit more than usual, and was just grateful there was even more Bugsy to love. 
“You’re eating for two, you’re literally growing a whole life inside of you. I think that is more than enough grounds to eat whatever you want,” He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek when she sighed as though she didn’t believe him, “Honey, clothes are replaceable. What your body’s trying to do is create a little bubble around you and this little pudding fiend so you can feed them when they’re out here,” 
Bugsy knew he was right. She’d spent well over a hundred hours researching hormone levels and how pregnant bodies are changing all hours of the day to accommodate the foetus, she knew it was normal for things to look different. Had it been on anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye. But it didn’t make the sting of seeing her body morph into one she didn’t recognise any less harsh.
“I know,” She hummed somewhat defeated, turning in his arms to press her face in his neck, “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast is all,”
Spencer smiled warmly, because every day he thought she had gotten impossibly prettier. He hadn’t believed in ‘pregnancy glow’, in fact he’d chalked it down to some sort of innate scientific survival tactic that associated a vulnerable woman with looking angelic, at least not until he’d woken up to see her stomach protruding from her pyjama top in a clear curve shape and he thought her face looked like she should be in some Monet painting, dozing in a field like a wide eyed doe. 
“I know, it’s a lot for anyone to go through. But you know I’m so grateful for you,” Spencer said, and he felt her smile without even seeing it. Her fingers wove into his hair at the nape of his neck, kissing a trail up his chest because he suspected she looked somewhat embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not complaining. It means I get to do this,” 
She felt two large hands grab at the fat of her bum cheeks and she squeaked in surprise, even though she heard him laugh in her ear at her reaction. That had been another thing she’d noticed, and how could she not. Penelope said just the other day that she was ‘baking a bun in the oven and cake in the trunk’ with a little wink, and she’d had to excuse herself quickly for lack of a response. 
And Spencer wasn’t lying. He wasn’t complaining with any of it, not by a long shot. 
MONTH FIVE.  The one with the mood swings.
“So you guys really don’t want to know the sex?” JJ asked, sipping on her tea as she chatted with Bugsy who was balancing biscuits on top of her now protruding stomach. It was as if overnight the baby had stretched out enough to make themselves a damn penthouse suite in Bugsy’s tummy. 
“We want it to be a surprise, either way we’re going to love the little bean, even if they do keep kicking my bladder at four am,” She said, balancing the tenth cookie on the tower she’d made, reaching over carefully for another one, “I swear if the bean kicks my cookie tower I’m giving them a hideous name,”
“It’s good to feel the baby kicking at this stage, it helps develop their joints and bones so they’re stronger when they’re born.” Spencer inputted helpfully as he slid a fresh mug of decaf tea over to her desk.
“Next time the baby kicks your uterus walls, Spence, gimme a shout and we’ll discuss how great it is,” Bugsy said with a small smile and he paused, looking at JJ as if he was caught in a trap, suddenly well aware of his mistake. 
“Point taken,” He conceded quietly, and JJ chuckled because she’d seen Will just as hesitant to piss her off in both of her pregnancies. And she knew Bugsy would never hold it against him, that Spencer’s head just ran away from him sometimes. 
She halted her little game and carefully leaned over to draw the mug to her lips, too impatient to wait for it to cool down fully and she barely spotted Derek swooping around the corner of the desk.
“Good morning, Mommies and Daddy Genius,” He greeted in that chirpy tone, his hand snatching up the top cookie and scarfing it down before she could protest. 
Bugsy shared her snacks all the time, it was a no brainer that they took a bite here and there out of each other's goodies before they could get a smack to the wrist. And Derek had certainly noticed a few of his Rolos missing the last time he bought a pack, and a particularly cheerful Bugsy smirking at him over her desk. 
It wasn’t a huge deal, and yet Bugsy sat up in a gasp, and the entire biscuit tower fell to a crumbling mess on the floor. 
“Well done, princess, Hotch is going to-” Derek stopped mid sentence when he saw her sniffle, and his eyes widened at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears, “Bugsy- are you okay-”
“My cookies! Derek!” She whined pitifully, and she buried her face in her hands, “My cookies, I was so going to eat the shit out of those, they were gonna be so good, Derek,” 
Morgan looked gobsmacked, his head whipping between the woman leaning against the desk with an understanding smile and Spencer who was already rubbing her shoulders with his lips smashed together, trying not to laugh. 
“Honey, it’s okay, he didn’t mean to,” Her partner tried to coo, though he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way Derek scrambled to draw out his wallet. 
“I’ll get you more, Bug, I swear, they sell them by the deli down the street, right?” He asked, jittering in his bones because he’d never made her cry before. He worried or a moment Hotch might just put him on sabbatical leave for such an offense. Emily would probably fly to Virginia just to cave his skull in, “I’m sorry, I’ll go get more, I’ll even get you strawberry milk-”
“Chocolate milk,” She wailed, and JJ slid a box of tissues over to the pitiful girl with a silent snicker. She remembered all too well the feeling of unexplained emotion crashing over her, and she didn’t doubt that the tough faced Bugsy would be back to normal any moment soon.
“Chocolate milk, got it,” Derek said, with a nod, and he all but darted for the elevators, in a hurry Spencer somewhat suspected was down to the fact he feared for his life if Penelope got a whiff of what happened.
Bugsy sniffled for a moment, drawing a tissue out the box and dabbing her eyes sullenly, her feelings slightly worse for wear even if she had a small inkling of doubt that she was really so torn up about the cookies as her body made it seem. 
But she had been thinking about them all morning; made herself promise she would only eat them once she got the stack fifteen high at least. 
“Are you okay, baby?” Spencer asked, his gaze empathetic as she snuffled her sobs into the palm of her hands. He wasn’t too worried, even if he hated seeing her cry just as much as anyone else did. And it wasn’t that he didn’t take her seriously. But when she’d been crying just that morning because her shower gel spilled on the floor and tipped almost all the way out, or even when she’d stepped on a snail walking into the building and smushed it into the ground, effectively killing it, he seemed to be getting used to her mood swings. 
She sniffed woefully, “I was really looking forward to those, and now I think I was too mean to Derek and…” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and the sight of it made Spencer sigh, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head because it must be difficult being so out of your usual self for nine months. 
“And what?” He prompted softly. Only she burst out crying again, reaching forward to drag him into a hug that told him she was feeling extra sorry for herself.
He wouldn’t blame her. Would sit through every weep and sob and tantrum if it meant he got to show her even more times over that he loved her endlessly. 
However he did have to hold in the giggle when she wailed; “I think I really do want strawberry milk,” 
MONTH SIX. The one with the false labour. 
She had been in Hotch’s office when she felt it. 
Embarrassingly so, her first thought was trapped gas. She’d gotten a lot of that considering the baby had decided it craved spice, and had been planning to excuse herself when it felt like her whole abdomen seized as if she’d been hit with a particularly nasty period cramp. 
Her hand flew to her stomach where she sat with Hotch reviewing her latest reports, the same quarterly check the whole team was mandated to have with their boss since Cruz became section chief. Hotch didn’t miss a beat, the folder in his hand hitting the desk in an instant as he tensed, looking at her with caution. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, and she held her breath for a moment. Spencer was out with Rossi giving a lecture in Washington DC, JJ had the day off for her mom’s birthday, Penelope and Morgan were taking Tara to lunch to show her a few more of their regular spots. It was just them and Anderson in the office for the next few hours, possibly the worst time out of any to have an empty floor. 
“Yeah- I just, woah,” Her stomach gave another lurch of a painful twist and her hand slapped on the table to keep herself steady. She breathed through the pain, because she’d had much worse only that wasn’t what was making her heart race. It was fear. Because she wasn’t due for another twelve weeks at least, and while she’d heard of baby’s being born as premature as six months, she knew premy babies suffered major complications later on, let alone the stress their body goes under during the actual birth. 
Bean, as the team had affectionately named the baby since the couple had firmly decided they didn’t want to know the sex, was about the size of red cabbage, tiny in the scheme of things even though it felt like just a few minutes ago they were a grain of rice. 
“Okay, it’s okay, stay calm,” Hotch said in a smooth voice, gentle yet reassuring as he rounded his desk in a flash and put his hand on her shoulder, “Do you feel like you need to use the toilet? Any back ache or irritability?” 
Bugsy breathed out through her nose as her lungs jittered with nerves, “N-no, I don’t need the bathroom, why would that matter?” 
Aaron stroked a large kind hand down her spine, watching her face scrunch in pain for a second time, and he slowly began directing her towards the door, taking small steps so she wasn’t rushing. “Needing to use the bathroom is an early sign of labour, it’s your body's way of helping expand your pelvis to accommodate the head. Any back ache or frustration at all?” 
He didn’t care that he’d had to repeat himself, not even when he was usually so against it, because he could feel the own unease rising in his throat like bile even if he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. 
He would be damned if he let her see how worried he was, and so he swallowed heavily, holding his other hand out for her to take when they approached the stairs. Anderson was on his feet in seconds when he saw his unit chief leading the woman with a tightly concealed frown, fumbling around for his phone. 
“Agent Prentiss?” He exclaimed, darting around the mess of chairs and paper and desks to approach them, “Would you like me to call Dr Reid? An ambulance, perhaps?” 
“She's alright, I’m driving her to the ER, thank you Anderson,” Aaron responded politely, his hand still resting on her back, and the agent nodded, digging around for his keys. 
“I can drive, if you’d like to ride in the back with her,” Grant offered with worried eyes as Bugsy’s face crumpled in agony again, and Hotch’s head whipped to her, and his composure crumbled for a moment. 
“Bugsy, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, honey,” He cooed, and Anderson was quick to open the glass doors, “Did you pack a bag at all-”
“No, Spencer told me I should but I said it was too early, why is that man always right,” She grumbled, her footsteps weary and jittery as the three of them got into the elevator. 
Hotch fought a smile, trying to remember everything he’d memorised before Hailey had Jack. The 5-1-1 rule blared through his head, and he glanced at his watch for a fraction of a second, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to have to write off a company vehicle for the fact his youngest agent gave birth in the back seat. 
“I’m afraid that’s just how Reid operates,” Hotch said, pulling his phone out to dial the man in question and let him know where they were headed, “It’s probably nothing, Hailey was getting cramps all the time once she reached her third trimester, but we’ll get you checked out to be safe,” 
“Really?” She looked at him with pitiful eyes and he nodded with a tight smile, committing to his illusion of calmness even if he swore he hadn’t felt so scared in months. 
Because it wasn’t just Bugsy anymore, it was Bugsy and her baby. Her and Reid’s baby. The two people who deserved their happy ending more so than anyone else he knew. 
And he felt her hand slip into his then as she accepted his answer, in fact she didn’t let go the entire time she waited on Spencer and Aaron was in no rush to leave her side. Even when she lay back on the table and had the midwife checking everything over, he stayed by her head (no doubt to avoid a very awkward conversation), stroked her hair when she fretted through a few more cramps, even when Spencer burst in through the door with Morgan at his heels looking like the two of them had just ran a marathon.
“Is everything okay- what’s wrong- do you need fluids- do you need ice-” Spencer rushed on his odd breath, his chest puffing with inhales, and he pretended he wasn’t seeing stars floating across his vision. 
“I’m assuming by your reaction you’re dad,” The nurse said, pulling off the blue gloves and dropping her mask from her mouth.
“Yes, he is, he’s dad,” Morgan filled in for him as Spencer all but fell back against the wall, because he really should have drank something other than soda and coffee this morning. He was close to swaying on his feet when he stepped over to his girlfriend, and she took his hand in the her own, or atleast the one that wasn’t occupied by Hotch’s tight hold. 
“Don’t worry, everything is alright with mom and baby,” She said, noting down a few things on her chart and the four of them took an audible sigh of relief, “Braxton Hicks contractions are very common in your final trimester, it probably felt like a lot because your baby is moving to into the anterior position ready for birth,” 
Bugsy’s head flopped back against the pillow in comfort and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go back to normal. Braxton Hicks, she should have known. Her head had been fuzzy the past few weeks as it was, but she supposed the moment she’d thought there might be something wrong with the Bean, all of her logic had flown out the window. 
But at least she’d had Hotch to keep her level headed, and-
“Oh my god, Anderson,” She jolted up, her legs stuck in the stirrups the midwife had place her into while she examined everything, “We need to tell Anderson, the poor guy was so worried,”
Hotch chose not to tell her he’d seen Anderson go as white as a ghost the second she’d turned her back, and instead patted her leg as Spencer went to speak to the midwife a little more, no doubt picking apart every single symptom she’d presented in that huge, worried head of his. 
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Anderson is fine, honey,” He said earnestly, and she looked at him like a kicked puppy, entirely sorry for the panic she’d caused, “Let’s just get you your underwear back, huh?”
MONTH SEVEN. The one where they decorate the nursery.
“What about Elias,” 
“Veto,”
Bugsy pulled a shunned expression as she carefully rolled the wallpaper up the wall. 
“Mason? Niko, stop,” She proposed, one hand on the wall while using the other to push the nosey feline away from the wet paste she’d been brushing on the wall. 
He sat politely at her chide, blinking at her with those big eyes as he watched her work with a twitching tail, almost entertained at the woman who had ballooned up in just a few weeks struggling to do a relatively easy task. 
“Hmm, Mason can go on the bench,” Spencer responded where he was sitting at the other end of the wall doing the same thing only much faster, though she’d argue it was a little easier since he wasn't carrying a large coconut strapped to his stomach.
They’d left the apartment just two weeks ago. Derek had been the one to help them cart their small amount of furniture into the modest house on the outskirts of West Springfield. It was large by Spencer’s standards, even if Bugsy had seen what grandeur looked like in her own childhood homes, but it didn’t matter. Because walls and floors and fancy grand pianos had never bought her love. Yet the first evening they’d spent in their new home they had slept on a mattress on the floor, the list of things to do the following day rattling around their heads. But they had a home. They had the picket fence with the nice school down the road and the bus stop within eyesight of the kitchen where their kid would one day walk to their door with a book bag and glasses like Spencer’s. 
She had never felt like she belonged somewhere until she had a home with him. 
“What about Ada for a girl?” Spencer called over his shoulder, where he had almost caught up to where she was still working on the small patch of wall. The paper was proving frustrating for her swollen fingers, considering the entire thing, when put together, made up a mural of little woodland creatures amidst a forest and left zero room for error, “Named after Ada Lovelace, the woman who pioneered computers,”
Considering it for a moment, she nodded, “That’s pretty. Ada makes top ten,” 
Flipping the last part up to stick against the thick glue, she ran her hands over the seams to be sure it aligned perfectly with the rest of the picture. Satisfied when it matched and a little fox stared down at her, she smiled, tilting her head up where Spencer was standing over her, watching her concentrate. 
“All done!” She chirped, and he bent down to give her a kiss to her puckered lips, sliding a hand beneath her arm to help her up. 
“Looks perfect, you’re really carrying the team honey,” He mused as she got to her feet with a little whine, wrapping her arms around his middle in a proud hug. 
“I know, what would you ever do without me?” 
He laughed, looking at her with an adoring gaze.
The light cracked through the open window, laying over her face delicately. The house was still bare, still in need of carpets and a good dusting, still had leaky pipes and ants in the pantry. Yes, they had a pantry now. But it was a start. It was a home. 
“I say we leave the cradle for another day, baby is calling for frozen grapes again,” She said, rubbing a hand over her protruding belly button and he smiled. Spencer could have sworn he was the luckiest guy in the world when he called her his friend. He thought maybe he should have bought a lottery ticket the same day she told him she loved him. The day she became his girlfriend he thinks he may have died and the past three years have been purely a dream. 
But watching the breeze kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair, watching her eyes rove over the room that would keep their baby safe and warm in just a few weeks, even seeing her smile at him like he had handed her the whole universe in a box when she was the one growing a whole human inside her; Spencer felt like his life was so much better than he ever hoped it would be. 
“Frozen grapes, coming right up,” He said, slipping his fingers in between his to help her down the winding staircase which had been a winner for her immediately. It’s like we have a castle, Spence. “You or the baby could ask for a whole damn ox and I’d give it to you.”
She laughed, holding onto the bannister as they headed downstairs to the kitchen that was in dire need of fresh paint. 
“What if I said baby wants a holiday to Cancun and another cat,” 
“I’d say baby is onto something there,” Spencer said, sweeping her from the final step and giving her a wet kiss to her head, “But first, grapes.”
MONTH EIGHT. The one where she gets cranky.
“Oh my god,” She groaned as she threw herself into her wheely chair, her button up shirt barely accommodating her stomach that was well and truly ready to pop.  
Derek Morgan loved her, he truly loved her like she was one of his sisters, dare say he had loved her since that day he’d carried her out of the church she was held hostage in by Cyrus. He had seen her at her rock bottom, had seen her graduate with flying colours, had even put his job on the line for her; covered her back from a stupid mistake at a bar when she popped a little molly on government pay. 
Derek loved her. He did. But the moment he saw her slump into her chair, her face scrunched up in frustration, he was collecting his mug of coffee and all but bolting for the door and heading straight for Penelope’s lair. 
“Back pain again?” JJ asked, flitting past a very frantic Morgan and heading towards Rossi’s office with a stack of papers in her arms. Bugsy let out something close to a growl in return, and JJ took it as a yes.
“I swear I have been pregnant for years,” She huffed, barely reaching over to where her keyboard sat at her desk. Tara nudged it forward for her to grab, because it seemed like she was on her breaking point enough as it was, and received a brief nod of thanks “I can’t remember a time when my back didn’t hurt, or my boobs were aching or my head wasn’t all fuzzy and weird and- OH for the love of god SWITCH ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” 
JJ’s brows raised as the keyboard mouse went flying off the side of her desk in protest, rolling straight past where Hotch and Spencer were strolling through the office, her boyfriend carrying the biggest Strawberry Milkshake he could find on this side of town. 
If Hotch wanted to say anything about her damaging property, he thought it smarter to keep his mouth shut as she swivelled to face the two of them, her expression already irritated by the worried stare they shot her way. 
“What?” She said with a bite, and Spencer raised his hands in surrender, which left her gaze to slide to Hotch. 
And Hotch loved her too, loved her more than he would ever admit. But he swore he the second her eyes clamped on his, Aaron Hotchner considered an exorcism might be necessary. 
“What, what are you staring at me for?” She snapped, throwing her hands out like a bratty teenager, and Hotch cleared his throat before he spoke, something embarrassingly close to fear shaking his vocal chords.
“Have you given any more thought to maternity leave, yet?” He asked and her eye twitched, and it was as if he saw the stapler was next on her list of things to send flying off the table, preferably straight at his head. “I would be more than happy to pull some strings so you take longer off after the baby is born, maybe even Spencer could start his paternity early-”
“What?” She said for a third time, like she was a broken record. And she knew she was being unfair, perhaps even cruelly so. But she would make it up to them later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Her underwear rode up and pinched where her uterus had begun to drop, her trousers itched for whatever reason, her face was hot from just walking from the elevator to her chair and that was just since she’d entered the office. She hadn’t got much energy for showers anymore and so washing her hair became some ugly affair where Spencer got in with her and did it for her, only last time he put a little too much product on and got the suds in her eyes and they had spent twenty minutes rinsing her face, naked and dripping wet, over the sink. She felt awful, awful for how she was being so irrationally rude, but it was like every inch of her being was uncomfortable. And there was still another month to go.
“Good god, man, don’t poke the bear,” Tara hummed as she passed, taking her own half full mug to the kitchen to escape whatever was rumbling in that hot head of hers. 
Hotch swallowed heavily, noticing how Spencer stayed deadly quiet no doubt because he’d learned his lesson in trying to force Bugsy into doing something when she was like this, “I’m saying I think it would be good for you to take some time off, you’ve both worked hard enough as it is and with the baby being so close, it would be good to take it easy for a few weeks-” 
She pressed her lips together, because she knew he was probably trying to help, probably trying to be considerate, and yet the heat of annoyance bubbled up inside her all the same like a kettle on the precipice of boiling.
“If you want the big scary pregnant lady out of your way just spit it out, Hotch,” She snapped, scowling at him in a way he remembered Hailey doing when he so much as sneezed too loud.
And he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at her. Because anyone with eyes saw she was uncomfortable, he knew if she was anything like his own ex-wife then she wouldn’t be sleeping nearly as much as she should, that more than likely their kid would be already kicking with long, scrawny legs to get out and show the world what they were made of. 
Hotch was saved from the firing line when his guess was proved almost immediately, and she groaned with a hand to her abdomen. 
“Spencer, would you tell your kid they’re not a linebacker and that my kidneys aren’t the damn ball,” She complained, and her partner flashed her a brave smile, leaning over her to rub where she was caressing her battered organs. 
“Actually, right about here will be your spleen since the baby has pushed everything around at this stage-” And with that Hotch darted towards his office because Bugsy looked ready to clip someone around the ear, and he didn’t have the heart to write her up for it.
Although for the sanctity of his team, he rushed her documents through the same afternoon and gave her an extra four weeks pay in lieu of a truce. 
MONTH NINE. The one with the birth.
It had been fourteen hours already when the doctor mentioned the word caesarean. 
“Caesarean? We never planned for a C-section,” Bugsy’s eyes widened where she was intermittently sucking down gas and air, Spencer patting her forehead down with an ice wet cloth. 
But then again she supposed she had never planned to go into labour when getting the laundry off the washing line while Spence painted the porch. 
He looked at her with nervous hazel hues where her face sparkled with sweat and water, her hand squeezing him tightly as another contraction hit. 
“I’m afraid we have few options left, Miss Prentiss,” The midwife said, a woman around her age that was already masked up after prodding around her cervix for a few hours, “Fourteen hours is rough on anyone and we’re not seeing any movement past your pelvis. Any longer and you or your baby might be at risk,”
And it was the truth, but it was a harsh one, and tears sprung to her eyes hearing those last few words. She had never had any delusions it would be easy giving birth, it was revered as the most painful thing anyone could go through, but she had assumed on a hope and a prayer that things would go smoothly. 
“I know it’s scary,” Spencer found his voice after a second, their hands clasped tightly together because there was more chance of snow in hell than there was he was letting her do this alone, “But, baby, you’re doing so well, and you’re almost there,” He said in a watery sweet tone, dabbing at her brow once more and the two of them exchanged a teary look, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay, they’re going to numb you for the whole thing and when it’s over we’re going to have our baby, huh?” 
She smiled ruefully because he was trying desperately to cheer her up, even though it sounded like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was her.
And she nodded, because she knew he was right, and more than anything she wanted their baby to be safe, even if it meant having her insides scooped out like she was some russian nesting doll. 
“O-okay, yeah, c-can Spencer stay with me?” She asked nervously, and the midwife smiled, pressing a button to call for the anesthesiologist.
“Ofcourse, honey. Just try to relax, we’re going to arrange an epidural for you,” She said in a voice that told Bugsy she’d practised staying calm in an emergency a thousand times. 
Bugsy breathed through her nose, feeling Spencer swoop in to wipe the lone few tears dribbling down her cheeks. 
“It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice bustling with nerves and she wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him she loved him more than ever for trying to put a brave face on for her sake. But she couldn’t, so she nodded frantically, leaning her forehead against his cheek and taking a few more deep breaths. 
“You’re doing great, honey, you’re being so brave,” Spencer reassured in his biggest voice, his hand carding over the side of her hot face gently. There was blood, there was so much blood, and the sound of her monitor was the only sound that was constant and not at all worrying with its steady heart beat. 
The midwives were flitting around the room, the lead obstetrician making careful incisions and handing various things Spencer didn’t want to see over to his co-workers. Because he loved their baby already, couldn’t wait to meet the mini him he’d been dreaming about since he was a boy himself, but Bugsy needed him first. She was his everything, his whole life, his whole universe fading between clear consciousness and a slightly loopy gaze as she relaxed on the table. 
“Is it over? Are they here, are they okay?” She slurred, looking over at him where his hair was covered in a blue scrub cap, his entire body wrapped in protective uniform to minimise the risk of infection on her body. 
He cradled her face again, shaking his head, “Not yet honey, you’re doing so good, it’s nearly over,” Spencer said, pressing his brow against hers because he had a mask over his mouth and couldn’t kiss her properly, “I love you so much, I swear I’ll try every day of my life to repay you,” 
“You’re being mushy, you’re freaking me out,” She joked as if she was her regular self, because the midwives had all warned him that the sedatives would take the edge off her nerves. And he chuckled, even if he was worrying enough for the two of them, sniffling behind the stuffy mask he had to keep on until she was in recovery. 
“I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to be okay,” Spencer said earnestly, and he pressed a kiss to her head anyway even if she wouldn’t feel it with his mask, “I’m gonna get you so many milkshakes when this is-”
There was a wail behind the curtain they had draped over her stomach, and both their breaths stopped in their chests. 
“Is that…” Bugsy started, her eyes wide and alert even if seconds ago she had been almost drunk, “Is that it- is that them?”
And another scream resounded around the room as if to answer her. 
Spencer swore he had never felt tears well in his eyes so fast until one of the midwives brought a wriggling, wrinkly bundle around the curtain, and within seconds he felt his cheeks sodden with tears. 
“Oh my god,” He said his smile reaching his eyes as the little creature was put on Bugsy’s chest, and it was only then he realised she was weeping too and he resumed his position stroking her head, “It’s a-”
“It’s a girl! Spencer, we have a girl!” Bugsy’s grin went from ear to ear, her eyes round and adoring at the ugly, scrunched face still screaming at them, her eyes closed and her skin covered in a white goop, “Oh my god, she’s so beautiful,” 
“I told you she’d take after you,” Spencer said, not minding the nurses sewing Bugsy up as they stared at their little girl, Bugsy’s arms holding her body weight delicately though she didn’t quite know what she was doing. 
Spencer was quick to remove the mask once they cleared him to, and the second he was freed he pushed his lips to his girlfriend’s, their mouths equally as salty and sodden as one another with the way their cheeks washed with tears. Pulling away, he looked at her in the eyes, the same eyes he’d always loved, the same eyes he’d know in any life, in any world, in any fog, and their smiles were damn near blinding. 
“I love you so much, I swear I’m going to make it up to you, anything you want,” Spencer said, kissing her again, his hand resting over hers where she held their baby girl on her bare chest. 
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had everything she’d ever wanted right there with her. 
“I love you so much more, Spencer,” She said quietly, the two of them pulling away when the little girl squealed again and they chuckled, quickly rushing to calm her cries as they looked at her as if they had yet to realise she was real and she was theirs, “Oh my god Spencer, you’re a daddy,”
“Bugsy, you’re a mommy,” He said with raised brows and she gasped, giggling with glee as her free hand flew to grab his face and pull him in to kiss her again, “We’re a mommy and daddy,” 
The two of them burst out laughing even though overjoyed tears lined their eyes again, and Spencer trailed a large finger down her chubby cheek softly, her skin shrivelled and pruney like she’d been submerged in a bath for too long. 
“Spencer, she’s perfect,” She said after a moment, her breath completely stolen when she took her in, the small head completely covered in dark hair, which she had already suspected would be there from the amount of times she found herself itching at her stomach. Her tiny fists waved in the air as her sobs subsided, beginning to warm up to the skin on Bugsy’s chest, and Spencer audibly choked in a cry of his own when her eyelids slowly blinked open and revealed forest hues damn near identical to his own. He pushed his temple to Bugsy’s again as she carefully swayed her from side to side.
“I’m never going to let anything hurt you,” He murmured, his breath warm on her collarbone and his baby girl stared back at him like she understood, even though he knew that was pretty much  impossible, “Either of you,” 
Bugsy sniffled with a wobbly smile, her hands shaking as she held her daughter up, “Do you want to hold her?” 
Spencer looked ready to wail all over again, not that she would ever hold it against him. The two of them had been weeping all day, and their kid was a real tear jerker to look at with her thick lashes and wide eyes. 
He was quick to pop open his shirt, holding his hands out nervously as she placed the baby in his arms, his fingers supporting under her head the whole time he brought her to his chest. 
Bugsy smiled, the midwife checking in with her for a moment before they were ready to wheel her into the other room to rest up, while Spencer looked entirely enamoured with the little bundle in his arms. 
He was a dad. He had made this beautiful, perfect little girl with the woman he loved more than anything in the world, and somehow she had given him even more reasons to feel so lucky. 
“Hello, you,” He said through bleary eyes, smiling through a chuckle when he saw just how tiny she looked in his arms, and he had never seen anything look so fragile, “I’m going to try be the best dad you could ever have, okay? I’m gonna be there for all the lame parties, and the sleepovers and the big games and every single time you need help on your homework, I’m gonna be right there with you.” 
“What name are we putting on the chart?” The midwife asked as Bugsy watched Spencer murmur to the sweet face that looked up at him in wonder, “Or is it just Baby Girl Prentiss for the moment?” 
“It’s Reid,” Bugsy said with a smile, as Spencer poured even more of his gentle heart out in promises she knew he would keep until the day he died. And she knew without checking with him the name they chose weeks ago was perfect; the one they’d decided on just a few days after the nursery was finished and she had yet another bowl of frozen grapes to chow down on while they admired their work. 
One for his mother, one for Emily. 
“Ana Emilia Reid,”
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angelbwrry · 2 months
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sex for dummies. eren j.
cw 𐙚 kissing, kissing, andddddd more kissing. eren is smart and wants to learn how to fuck, you’re a bimbo cheerleader with experience under your belt who needs help in math!
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𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒: 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔
You sit in the stark, colorless classroom, feeling the weight of monotony pressing down on you. The walls are bare, devoid of any inspirational posters or artwork, and the fluorescent lights cast a harsh, uninviting glow over everything. The incessant clicking of a pen behind you riddles you with irritation, each click like a tiny hammer tapping against your skull. You try to focus on the teacher, but his bored voice drones on about the rules of precalculus, and you can't help but tune it out.
Your attention drifts to your pink ringed notebook, its cover already filled with an array of drawings, each one a testament to your boredom. You’ve always been an artist, yet you’ve never had the energy or the opportunity to truly pursue your talents. So here they stay, confined to the pages of this littered notebook. As you sketch, your mind wanders, and you lose yourself in the lines and shapes forming under your pencil.
But the tapping of the pen behind you grows louder, its continuous rhythm grating on your nerves. You try to ignore it, but it becomes impossible, each click pulling you further away from your thoughts. Frustration builds inside you, and you begin to scribble harder, pressing the pencil into the paper with more force than necessary. Suddenly, the lead snaps, breaking the fragile silence you had tried to create.
You whirl around to face the boy behind you, your eyes blazing with anger. "Tap it again and I’ll shove it down your throat," you seethe, your voice low and menacing. The boy looks at you, his eyes wide with terror, and he nods quickly, his hand frozen mid-click. Satisfied, you turn back around.
Mr. Johnson, the math teacher, stands at the front of the classroom, his voice clear as he explained yet another problem. The chalkboard was filled with equations, each symbol meticulously written to illustrate the problems.
"Alright, class," Mr. Johnson said, turning back to face the students, "let's solve this equation together. What do we need to do first?" Hands shot up across the room, but in the back corner, you sat quietly, staring at your notebook. The numbers and letters seemed to blur together, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make sense of the steps Mr. Johnson was explaining.
"We should rewrite the equation.”
Your ears perked up at the familiar raspy voice. Eren Jaeger, the typical nerd whizz kid. He always wore these rimmed glasses that seemed to be perpetually sliding down his face. You could never get a good look at his face, though, because if his head wasn’t down, his messy raven hair was in his face. He seemed like a shy, reserved nerd.
You’d only spoken to him once or twice, and each time you’d asked to borrow a pencil. Eren effortlessly broke down the problem until it was solved. You envied his brain. Mr. Johnson moved on to the next equation, and your anxiety grew as you found yourself zoning out, probably why your grades were suffering now.
You knew you needed help, but you were too embarrassed to raise your hand and admit you didn't understand. You scribbled in your pink spiraled notebook, trying to make sense of the previous examples, but the more you looked, the more confused you became.
You doodled a picture of Hello Kitty, lip mindlessly caught in your teeth.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and you quickly packed your things, hoping to escape unnoticed. But as you reached the door, Mr. Johnson called out, "Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?"
Shit.
You froze, your heart pounding. You turned slowly and walked back to Mr. Johnson's desk, avoiding eye contact. Your anxiety spiked as you awaited what he was going to say. Would he threaten to call your parents again, threaten to get you taken off the cheer team? Or would he make you stay back for after-hour tutoring again?
"Uh, yeah sure," you stumbled out nervously, fingers pulling at the edge of your uniform skirt as you averted your eyes to him.
"I noticed you drifting off in class. In order for me to help you, I need you to want to be helped," he sighed, pulling his glasses over his tired face. "I know you're on the team and practice can be weighing with classes. I can talk to your coach—"
"No, no. That's not needed, I swear I'll do better, just please don't talk to coach," you pleaded desperately, her last words playing through your head like a broken record.
If your grades drop any lower, I'll have to suspend you.
He gave you a look; you couldn't tell what kind of look seeing as his face was always stoic. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded, folding his arms over his chest."Fine, I would suggest pairing up with someone to study over the weekend. We'll have a pop quiz come early Monday morning."
Shit, Monday. How the fuck did he expect you to cram an entire semester of math equations into your head in two damn days? You wanted to throw a fit, but you kept your composure, lips curled tightly in disdain as you nodded your head before spinning on your heels and leaving.
You walked out into the hallway, your mind racing. You needed help, and fast. Just then, you spotted Eren Jaeger, the nerdy guy from your class, at his locker.
"Hey, Eren," you called out, trying to sound as casual as possible.
He looked up, surprised to see you. "Oh, hey... Y/N, right?"
"Yeah, that's me," you said, forcing a smile. "Listen, I need a favor."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "What kind of favor?"
"I need help with math. Like, desperately," you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
"Mr. Johnson said I need to study with someone this weekend or I'm screwed. And I know you're really good at it..."
Eren sighed, closing his locker. "So, you want me to help you? Why should I? You never even talk to me unless you need something."
You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I really need this, Eren. I'll do anything. I'll even pay you if that's what it takes."
He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "It's not about the money, Y/N. It's about respect. You think just because you're popular, you can use people like me whenever it's convenient for you."
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don't think that, I swear. I just... I don't know what else to do. Please, Eren. I'm begging you."
He sighed again, running a hand through his messy hair.
“Fine. I'll help you. But not because of the money. Because everyone deserves a second chance. Just... don't make me regret this.Take my number.”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you typed your number in his phone. "Thank you, Eren. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, grabbing his backpack.
"Meet me at the library after school. And be on time."
"I will, I promise," you said, smiling genuinely for the first time that day. "Thanks again, Eren." As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would turn around after all.
Eren was going to kill you. Not only were you late for your study session, but you were also on babysitting duty. Your parents had dropped it on you at the last minute that they had to attend a dinner for your dad’s boss, seeing as he was trying to get promoted.
"Mom, Dad, I can't babysit tonight! I have a tutoring session with Eren at the library," you protested, your voice rising in frustration.
"Sweetie, this dinner is very important for your father’s career," your mom replied, barely looking up from her phone. "You can miss one study session."
"Are you serious? I can't just cancel on him last minute! And it’s not just one session, it's important," you argued, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
"Enough," your dad said sharply. "We provide everything you need. The least you can do is help out when we ask."
"But you never consider my feelings! You just throw money at me and think it solves everything," you shot back, your voice trembling with anger.
"Watch your tone, young lady," your dad warned, his eyes narrowing. "We expect you to handle this responsibly."
Irritation riddled your body as you watched them pull off in the BMW, leaving you with your hyper eight-year-old sister.
"Fuck," You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of your little sister's expectant eyes on you. It wasn’t just the babysitting; it was everything. The constant disregard for your time, your feelings, your life. They never seemed to care unless it was about them.
All they did was throw money at you, thinking it would make up for their absence, their coldness. They were always so distant, so wrapped up in their own world. It was like you were just an afterthought, a responsibility they had to manage rather than a person they cared about.
Deep down, you resented them for it. For always making you feel like you were second place to their careers, their social lives, their needs.
You were tired of being the one who had to pick up the pieces, who had to be responsible because they couldn’t be bothered. They never listen,you thought bitterly. They never care.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you turned around to face your little sister. Her big, innocent eyes were filled with curiosity and concern.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her small hand reaching out to touch yours.
You forced a smile, squeezing her hand gently. "Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, not wanting to burden her with your frustrations.
“Come on, it's time for bed."
She nodded, trusting you completely, and you led her upstairs to her room. The soft glow of her pink nightlight cast a warm, comforting light over the room. You helped her into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and tucking her in snugly.
"Why are you stressed?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It's nothing, really," you reassured her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Just some grown-up stuff. You don't need to worry about it."
She looked up at you with those big, trusting eyes, and you felt a pang of guilt for not being completely honest. But you knew she was too young to understand the complexities of your feelings.
You leaned down and kissed her forehead, smoothing the covers over her small frame. "Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
She smiled sleepily, her eyes already beginning to close. "Goodnight," she murmured.
You watched her for a moment, making sure she was settled before turning off the main light and leaving the room. As you leave the room, you couldn't help but feel a mix of love and frustration. Your sister was so innocent, so unaware of the burdens you carried. But for her sake, you would carry them all.
Your phone buzzes, and you see Eren's name on the screen. You take a deep breath before answering, knowing he's probably annoyed.
"Hey," you say cautiously.
"Where are you?" Eren's voice is sharp. "I'm at the library, and you're not here."
You feel a pang of guilt. "I'm really sorry, Eren. My parents stuck me on babysitting duty last minute. I couldn't leave my little sister alone."
There's a brief silence on the other end, and you can almost feel Eren's frustration through the phone. "Can I come over?" he finally asks.
You hesitate, then offer, "Yes, please. I can even pay you extra for the trouble."
Eren is quiet for a moment, and you hold your breath. "Alright," he says eventually. "I'll be over in twenty."
"Thank you so much, Eren," you say, relief washing over you.
"Yeah, yeah," he replies, trying to sound indifferent but you can sense the concern in his voice. "See you soon."
You hang up, feeling a bit lighter. You glance at your little sister, who's fast asleep, and crack the door to her room slightly, making sure she's still peacefully resting. At least you have someone who understands and is willing to help out.
Twenty minutes later, you hear a knock on the door. You open it to find Eren standing there, looking around in awe. "Wow," he mutters, stepping inside.
“Your house is huge. It looks like a mansion. I think you could fit my house in here three times." Eren says as he steps in, his eyes widen, taking in the high ceilings and elegant decor.Man, this place is massive. He knew you lived well, but this is next level. He shakes his head slightly, trying to hide his amazement. I could probably get lost in here.
You smile sheepishly, a bit embarrassed by the size of your home. "Yeah, it is pretty big. Thanks for coming over, Eren."
Eren nods, still looking around. This is like something out of a movie. I bet she has her own bathroom too.
“No problem," he says, shaking his head as if trying to process the grandeur of your house. You can’t help but stare at him, you’ve never seen him outside of school uniform and it’s hard not to gawk at the tight red compression shirt he’s wearing. His muscles flex underneath it enticingly, your eyes catching ink under his sleeves.His long hair is pulled back and you’re in awe, he’s beautiful.He’s not wearing his glasses tonight, you wonder why,but decide not to pester him.
You notice you’re staring and pull your eyes away,”we’ll study in my room.”
Eren nods,”lead the way.”
Eren tried to fight the way his erection grew as he walked behind you, your round ass in his face. Damn, you look gorgeous. You always looked gorgeous, but like this? It's almost too much.Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, edges laid neatly. The compression shorts you wore had his mind swirling with unholy thoughts, and your shirt was short enough to see your boobs peeking out. God, control yourself, Eren. This is not the time.
And then there was your scent—a perfect mix of cinnamon and vanilla. It was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into his thoughts. You smell so good. He was pulled from his reverie as you pushed open the door to your room. It was just as luxurious as the rest of your house, pink and white themed. Cozy, with pristine tan carpet. The room smelled amazing, and Eren figured you were probably a clean freak, given how spotless everything was. This place is incredible. How do you keep it so perfect?
Eren took a moment to steady himself, trying to focus on anything other than the way you looked and smelled. Get it together, Eren. You're here to help, not to get distracted.But it was easier said than done, and he couldn't help but silently admire you, hoping you wouldn't notice the effect you had on him.
“Geez, is there anything small in this house.” Eren jokes, taking a seat on the bed.You giggle, shutting the door closed before plopping down beside him, ignoring the way your stomach churns when those green eyes look at you.
“My parents are the materialistic type, as you can see.”
He scoffs, yeah no shit.
“I figured out how you can pay me,” Eren finally speaks up, you quip an eyebrow at him.
“Teach me how to have sex,”
You nearly choke on your spit.
“W-what?”
“Like how to kiss a girl and finger her, y’know.Each time we study you’ll teach me a new thing.” He trails off, his olive skin is bright red.
You cross your arms over your shoulder,”what makes you think I’m not a virgin?”
He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing,”Just the schools drama page has a photo of you folded in the back of Connie’s truck.”
You roll your eyes, God, how embarrassing.Connie was your ex, typical football player, dumber than a damn rock.You really need to pass, and Eren is really cute, you don’t mind taking his virginity. You sigh after a few minutes,”Fine.but don’t go around running your mouth about this.”
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He's sitting right in front of you, looking a bit unsure but eager to learn. You smile softly, wanting to make this moment as sweet and memorable as possible.
"Alright, first things first," you say gently, placing your hands on his shoulders. "It's important to relax and just be in the moment. Kissing should feel natural and comfortable." You look into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence and warmth. "Let's start with something simple. Just lean in slowly."
He mirrors your actions, leaning in slightly. You can feel his breath on your lips, and it makes your heart race a little.
"Close your eyes," you whisper, and he does. You do the same, letting the moment envelop you both. The world around you fades, and it's just the two of you, sharing this intimate space.
"Now, just a gentle touch," you instruct, your voice barely above a whisper. You press your lips softly against his, just a light, tender kiss. It's sweet and innocent, and you can feel him relax a bit. You pull back slightly, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.
"See? That's not so hard," you giggle, a playful smile dancing on your lips. He smiles back, looking more confident now.
"Let's try it again, but this time, add a little more pressure," you say, leaning in once more.
As your lips meet again, you guide him with gentle pressure, showing him how to move in sync with you. "Tilt your head a bit," you murmur against his lips, and he follows your lead. The kiss deepens, becoming more natural and fluid. You can feel the connection growing, the rhythm of your movements syncing perfectly.
"Perfect," you say, breaking the kiss and smiling up at him.
"You're a quick learner."
He chuckles, looking both relieved and happy. "Just remember, it's all about the connection. Feel the moment and let it guide you."
You decide to show him a bit more. "Now, let's try something a little different," you say, your voice soft and encouraging.
"When you kiss, you can also use your hands to express how you feel." You gently take his hand and place it on your waist. "See? This can make the kiss feel more intimate."
He nods, his touch tentative but growing bolder. You lean in again, this time letting your hands slide up to his neck, your fingers gently playing with the hair at the nape. The kiss is deeper now, more passionate, yet still tender. You can feel his confidence building with each moment.
"That's it," you whisper as you pull away for a breath. "You're doing amazing." He smiles, his eyes sparkling with newfound assurance.
"One last thing," you add, your tone playful. "Don't be afraid to explore a bit. Kissing can be fun and playful too."
You lean in for one more kiss, this time letting it linger a bit longer. Your lips move together in a dance, sometimes slow and sweet, other times more eager and passionate. It's a perfect blend of emotions, and you can feel the bond between you.
As you pull away, you see the sparkle in his eyes, and you know he's got it. "Thank you," he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude. You smile, feeling a warm glow inside.
"Anytime," you reply, knowing that this is just the beginning.
His face is bright red, dick pressing uncomfortably in his pants.You’d be lying if you said the heat between your legs wasn’t there.He scratches his eyebrow nervously,”we should probably get studying.”
reblogs, comments and likes are highly appreciated! bye🫧
part 2
538 notes · View notes
yunniverse · 11 days
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Important
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౨ৎ PAIRING— kim hongjoong x reader
౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader
౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, argument but happy ending
౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 2.1k
౨ৎ SUMMARY— you expected hongjoong to remember, but he forgot.
౨ৎ A/N— hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! feedback is appreciated!!
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“One coffee, extra milk and sugar,” you tell the cashier at the coffee shop, understanding why he seems tired and looks as if he wants to get out of there and in his bed already. It’s almost midnight, after all.   “That all?” he asks, looking about as uninterested as he possibly can.   “No,” you clear your throat, not even having to look at the menu. “Another coffee, one sugar.”   He nods slowly, placing the order before taking your card and swiping it. You wait by the door, checking your phone again, only to not see any messages from him, just as you expected.
Though, it still feels like a punch to the gut. You had already texted Yunho to ask where he is, even though you pretty much already knew.   You look up when the cashier calls out your order, pushing off the wall to grab the drinks. “Thanks,” you tell him, offering him a half smile. “Have a good night.”   “Mhm,” he responds as you walk out of the coffee shop, the bell ringing above the door.   Getting into your car, you sigh as you place the drinks in the cup holders. It’s your one year anniversary of dating Hongjoong, and you honestly shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that he obviously forgot.
You’ve tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, given the fact that Ateez is in the middle of promoting their new comeback, but it still hurt when he didn’t show up at the restaurant like he said he would.
You had even had to tell them to cancel the reservation, after you waited for nearly an hour for him to show up.   As you drive, you try to stay calm, knowing it isn’t his fault completely, and he has way too much on his plate, but he could have told you he was too busy, right?   When you pull up to KQ, you sigh yet again, grabbing the drinks as you open your door, met with a burst of cool air. Bringing the coffee inside with you, you slowly make your way to Hongjoong’s workplace.   When you finally make it, you can’t help the small shadow of a smile that creeps onto your face when you see him hunched over in front of his computer, writing notes and humming.
He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, which you hate to admit, because you’re supposed to be upset, looks amazing on him. His soft, brown hair is a little messy from running his fingers through it, but somehow he still looks beautiful.   “Hongjoong?” you question softly, sighing when he doesn’t respond, still humming to himself amd writing. Gently placing the drinks on the table beside the door, you walk over to him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.   With a small jolt, he turns to look at you, his face softening when he sees you. “Hey, baby,” he greets you with a warm smile, pushing the glasses up on his nose.   “Hi,” you respond, rubbing your arm, as Hongjoong grabs your hand, trying to tug you a little closer, probably to give you a hug, but you shake your head, trying to shrug him off.   He frowns, confused, “What’s wrong?”   “You really forgot?” you question, hating how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t help it. Finally seeing him today had just snapped something inside of you, and now you feel like you’re on the verge of tears.   “Forgot?” Hongjoong questions, his pretty brown eyes searching your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes, trying to read your emotions.   “Our anniversary,” you inform him, hearing your voice shake slightly.   Hongjoong’s face falls as he slumps in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his eyes before meeting your gaze again, seeing the disappointment in yours. “Oh, baby, I didn’t… You don’t… It wasn’t…? It was today?”   You simply nod, sniffing in order to hold back the tears threatening to fall at any moment.   “I set an alert so I wouldn’t forget, but I got so busy today that I haven’t checked my phone,” Hongjoong sighs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I truly didn’t mean to.”   “I understand,” you nod once, stepping away from him. “You’re just busy. Work comes first. I’ve always known that.”   “No, y/n,” Hongjoong shakes his head, reaching for you again, but you take another step back. “Please!”   “No, Hongjoong,” you reach for the coffee, holding it out to him as you gesture at it. “I got your usual.”   “Thanks, I-“   “But I’m gonna go.”   “What?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows crease as he stands. “Why?”   “You’re busy, and I’m a burden to your work,” you shrug, trying your best to sound unaffected, though you’re almost certain Hongjoong can see through your act.   “It isn’t like that, y/n,” Hongjoong sighs, his shoulders lowering in defeat as he plays with the wrapping around the paper coffee cup.   “What’s it like then, Joongie?” you ask, the nickname slipping out accidentally, you being to used to saying it.   Hongjoong’s offers you a small smile at the nickname, as he takes a step toward you, hoping you won’t back away. “I genuinely didn’t mean to forget, baby, but between the comeback preparations and the fanmeet and performance earlier today, it just completely slipped my mind.”   “I understand!” you suddenly snap, knowing you’re being unreasonable, but you just can’t seem to wrap you head around him forgetting your anniversary. “I understand, Joong.”   “It isn’t about you understanding,” he responds, somehow remaining calm. “It’s about letting me apologize.”   “I am letting you apologize,” you cross your arms, and Hongjoong sighs, looking down before fixing the glasses on his nose again. “Please, go right ahead.”   Without another word, Hongjoong steps toward you, his arms wrapping around your stiff frame.
At first, you stiffen even more, but, the longer he perseveres, the more you find yourself melting into him.   The soothing, faint scent of citrus and ginger slowly lures you to press your face into the soft skin of Hongjoong’s neck, breathing out a sigh as you relax into his warm embrace.   “I really am sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair, making a small whimper escape your lips, muffled by Hongjoong’s skin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”   “Really?” you ask, sniffling slightly as you pull back to look him in the eyes.   “Yeah,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as he speaks. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go this weekend. Name it, we’ll be there.”   “Joongie,” you frown a little, causing him to glance down at your lips, giving you a small pout when he sees your downturned expression. “I don’t need to go somewhere to be happy. I just want to spend time with you.”   “But-“   You lift your hand, placing a finger against Hongjoong’s lips to silence him. “Honestly, that’s all I really wanted anyway. To talk to you and finally get to be with you again. It’s been way too long since we had an evening to ourselves, given your hard work all the time.”
Hongjoong’s gaze flickers across your face as he takes in your words, looking a little confused.   “You didn’t want to go out tonight?” he asks softly.   “No,” you shake your head a little, a small smile forming on your face. “Don’t get me wrong, it would’ve been fun, but what I really wanted was you.”   “Just me?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe it.   “I love you, Joongie,” you laugh a little. “All I ever want is your attention.”   He glances down, a small blush spreading across his cheeks, but he soon gets himself under control, meeting your gaze again. “Then, we’ll have a movie night this weekend. Just you, me, snacks, a movie, and cuddles. Does that sound nice?”   “Sounds perfect,” you sigh, this time in content, as Hongjoong grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your eyelids flutter closed, thoroughly enjoying his kiss, especially since it’s been so long since you’ve had a kiss from Hongjoong.   When he finally pulls away, you grin cheekily, “But, only on one condition.”   “What’s that?” Hongjoong asks, furrowing his eyebrows.   “Wear this outfit,” you smile shyly, eyeing his earrings and his necklace. “You look so hot.”   Hongjoong reddens, taken by surprise, as he averts eye contact, groaning a little in embarrassment, “Babyy.”   “Hm?” you hum, blinking innocently.   “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he responds, still blushing. “Plus, I’m barefaced.”   “And?” you question, quirking an eyebrow. “You look beautiful with or without makeup. Don’t make me convince you again.”   He yelps as you playfully pinch his sides in warning, causing him to jump away from you a little. “Okay, okay.”   With a giggle, you let him grab your hand, pulling you toward his rolling chair. “Wanna sit with me and watch me work for a little while?”   “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch my cute boyfriend work,” you respond cheekily, making Hongjoong groan again, trying to hide his blush.   “Stop, baby,” he pouts at you, making you laugh.   “I love you,” you tell him suddenly, making him turn to look at you. “And I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”   “Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong responds sternly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you toward him from his position seated in his chair. “It’s completely my fault that I forgot, and I promise I’ll do better about that. You’re so much more important to me than work. I know I don’t prove it often enough, but it’s true. I hope you know that I love you so, so much.”   “I know, Joongie,” you smile, your hands moving to his head, carefully pushing his soft hair away from his face.
His eyelids flutter closed at the feeling, a small sigh escaping his lips. “And remembering anniversaries isn’t the most important thing in a relationship anyway. You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for, even if you forget important dates.”   Hongjoong’s eyes open at that, though the frown that grows on his face is sleepy as he speaks, “What else have I forgotten?”   “Don’t you remember when you forgot you were meeting my parents a few months ago?” you ask pointedly.   “Oh, right,” Hongjoong mumbles in response. “Well, at least they still liked me.”   “Who wouldn’t like you?” you giggle, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp, earning another soft sigh from the man in front of you, whose head falls softly against your stomach. “They want to see you again, you know.”   Hongjoong hums, his eyes closed as you speak softly. After a few moments of talking about your family, you continue, “Are you working on a song?”   When you don’t get a response, you glance down, a little confused. “Aw, baby,” you whisper, when you realize he fell asleep against you.
With the hands still buried in Hongjoong’s hair, you gently push his head off of you, enough to see his face, smiling when you notice his glasses are still on.   You gently move his head to lean against your left arm as you carefully remove the glasses before shifting to lean against his desk.   A smile appears on your face when you hear Hongjoong mumbling something. You feel your heartbeat speed up when you realize he’s saying ‘I love you.’   “I love you, too, Joongie,” you respond softly before your eyes find the coffee on the table, and you shake your head, laughing slightly. “The coffee’s gone cold, now, and you didn’t even drink any.”   When you get no response, as expected, you gently rake your fingers through his hair again, this time eliciting a small groan from Hongjoong.   Your eyes widen as you laugh, your slight shaking jostling Hongjoong awake. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and slurred with sleep.   “Nothing, baby,” you giggle, collecting yourself. “Would you like to move to the couch?” He nods, letting you move away, though he still whines at the loss of warmth.   “You’re being very vocal today, Joong,” you quirk an eyebrow down at him as he moves to stand. “You definitely need sleep.”   “Gotta work,” he replies, but doesn’t resist as you guide him toward the couch.   “You can finish work tomorrow,” you tell him, settling down on the couch and pulling him with you gently. He collapses onto the couch, his face finding your neck as your fingers automatically find his hair again.   You grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over both of you. “Goodnight, Joongie.”   “G’night, baby, and happy anniversary,” he mumbles against you, causing a smile to grow on your face as you tighten your grip, letting out a small sigh of content.   And, as you press a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head, you realize that, even though Hongjoong did forget your anniversary, it isn’t even what is really important. What’s important is the love you two share all the time, whether you can be together a lot or not.   “Happy anniversary, Hongjoong.”
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artist-issues · 10 months
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Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.
What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.
The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.
The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)
The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.
The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.
None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.
Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"
Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)
Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.
The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.
The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.
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Mine
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《Part 3 for The Meetup
《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《Summary: After your successful first date, you and Eddie continue seeing each other. Things start getting more serious between the two of you.
《Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!Eddie, mention of death but its not detailed, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight mocking, some size kink if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, cum swapping Use of a bass amp to get off. Voyeurism, cockwarming. Masturbation (male) oral (female receiving) orgasm denial. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.
Word count: 13k
A/n: Please reblog, like, and leave a comment to support. Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read parts 1 & 2 to understand the rest of the story. I also mention his mom in this part, but I wrote it way before the book spoilers were even released.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
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Eddie decided he wanted to surprise you at work the very next morning after your "conversation" together. He really wanted things to progress and work out between the two of you. While you both barely know each other, there is a connection that he's been dying to have with someone for a long time. He also just really wanted to see you again before you came to his shows.
He walked through the glass door, ringing the bell, and smirked when you saw you with a customer. Eddie really loved how cute you looked in your work uniform. He overheard the customer you were dealing with at the moment complaining about how his coffee tasted too fresh. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean he thought. Eventually, the guy gave up and just snatched up his coffee and walked away. Eddie muttered asshole under his breath as the guy was walking past him.
After the man left, you still didn't notice Eddie walking up to the counter. You threw your head down, wanting this day to be over with already. You were trying to remain as calm as possible.
"Can I get a basic vanilla latte?" He asked, clearing his throat to grab your attention.
You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see him standing there. He was once again wearing black jeans and a muscle tee with his bands faded logo on the front. His tattooed arms on full display, and you can tell he shaved this morning. "Oh, what are you doing here?"
"Well I need coffee....and I wanted to see you." He smiled, showing off his dimples.
"Also, i couldn't stop thinking about our little talk last night." He continued wiggling his brows.
You can already feel your face getting warm at the mention of what you two did.
"Shhh!, we can't talk about that..not here." You scolded him, eyes widening in panic.
"Okay fine fine not here... but I do need that latte." He leaned over a little to whisper. That cocky smirk replacing the boyish one he had just moments ago.
You put in his order and tried to busy yourself. Not paying him too much attention, as he seemed to be extra playful today. He definitely came by to poke at you a little after what you did for him. You normally wouldn't have minded if the two of you were alone together. But you are at work, and most of the customers are people from your shared campus. The thought of one of them overhearing what you and him got up to would haunt you forever.
He watched you running around behind the counter, trying to seem busier than you actually were. "So I also wanted to ask maybe if you wanna come to my place after work?"
You pause instantly when he mentions going to his place. Did you just hear him correctly? Go to his place? You must have been making a face because he quickly added on.
"We can watch a movie, and I dunno talk." He's brown eyes looking into yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. You don't know how he does it. One moment, he's sexy and confident. Then next he's shy and bashful his cheeks alway gave him away. They would turn a crimson red when he got put on the spot. You can tell this sort of thing is pretty out of his comfort zone, but he's trying his best to change that.
"Yeah sure uhh I have to go home first, though."
You moved to pick up his coffee and hand it to him when his order was finally called. "I get off at six o'clock."
"I can pick you up from your place at around seven then. It's not a problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.
Eddie started making his way to the door when you spoke up. "I don't get a terrible pun?"
He stops and turns to turns to you.
"I'm saving my best ones for tonight. " He said with a wink before exiting the coffee shop.
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You watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Counting down every minute to every second like a mad woman. Were you nervous to go over to his place? Yes. But you also were excited to go and actually hang out with him. You know he invited you to watch his band perform, but hanging out in his home felt more intimate. No one else would have his attention it would just be the two of you alone.
Once that large hand hit six, you were booking it out of there and racing home to get ready. Eddie had told you he'd pick you up by seven, so that gave you almost an hour to get yourself together. You showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Your roommate is still out of town, and you thanked God for that. You knew the moment she saw you racing around your house, there would be a million questions thrown your way.
You looked at the clock sitting on your dresser and it read 6:58 pm. You don't know know how punctual Eddie is as a person just yet. You stared at the clock some more, and each minute that passed felt like forever. Your heart thumps in your chest as you patiently wait for the sound of his van. When it finally turned 7pm and there still was no Eddie in sight, you started to worry a little. What if he forgot to pick you up? He never said this was a date, so maybe he decided to do something else.
7:20pm
The clock in big bold red letters reads.
You were really starting to think he wasn't going to show. Until you heard the familiar loud sound of his motor pulling up out front. You made a quick dash for the front door, grabbing your purse. Eddie wasn't even on the last step yet before you're meeting him on your front porch. "Someone is a little eager to leave."
"Oh well I..my roommate is gonna be home soon, and I didn't want her asking a thousand questions." You lied. You'd never tell him that you've actually been sitting on your bed biting at your nails watching the time go by.
"Understandable. Sorry I'm late by the way I was cleaning up my place for you." He moves his arm hooking it around yours, helping you down the stairs.
"No, it's fine. I was busy getting ready anyways," you lied again.
Eddie opened the passenger side door to his van as you got in. Jogging over the driver side, Eddie hops in to sit on the plush blue seat. This is the second time you've rode in his van, and the first time, you actually paid attention to the details. His seats were a soft blue material. He had various band stickers littering the dashboard.
The back was empty except for a few cords thrown here and there. You would guess this is what he used to pack his band equipment in. His gear shift had a silver skull with fang like teeth and red jewels for eyes. You can tell he took a lot of care and put a lot of time into his vehicle.
"How was work after I left?" He asked, turning down his music.
"It was fine a little boring but not too bad." You shrug, playing with a loose thread of your pullover.
"I hope you like scary movies because I picked out a couple from block buster." His hand moves from the gear shift to give your thigh a quick squeeze. "I love scary movies."
"Good, I got us Evil Dead 2, Halloween 4, and The Fog." He made a turn down a street you're not familiar with, but notice it's not far from your home or campus. "You pick first."
"Uh, I wanna watch The Fog first, then Halloween 4." You said, noticing the van slowing down and pulling into a parking lot of an apartment complex.
The van comes to a complete stop, and Eddie turns to unhook your seat belt. He jumps out of the driver side to open up your door, helping you out. Putting a hand to the small of your back, guiding you to the main entrance. He opens the door for you to step in first.
"Welcome to my castle." He jested with a bow.
You giggled as you made your past him to enter the building. He puts a hand to the small of your back again as he guides you up the stairs. It didn't take long before you and him were at his apartment door. His place only is just two flights up. Pulling out his keys from his leather jacket, he unlocked the door and bowed for you to enter again.
You step in and notice right away that he has tons of music equipment around. To the right of you is a large TV set on a stand facing his couch. His home is dark and cozy with dragon and skull statues almost everywhere. Metal band posters framed on his wall and black curtains covering his windows. You notice a few personal framed pictures on the wall by his TV.
There is one of him and an older man with a gray beard. A picture of him in front of a playing table with what you assumed were his friends. There was one picture that stood out the most to you. It was smaller than the rest and pretty faded. There was a woman smiling with long dark curly hair holding a very happy toddler wrapped in a towel. You can only guess that must be his mother. He also had a gold locket hanging off the frame. You wanted to ask him about the photos, specifically that one, but decided against it. There could he some not so great memories you dont want to bring up.
Eddie was digging around for the movies when he noticed you staring at his pictures.
"That's my uncle wayne." He walked up behind you, pointing at the man with the grey beard.
"And this is my old DnD club."
He reached over, taking the picture off the wall to give you a better look. "See, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, who are also my band mates."
He continues on now pointing at the younger kids in the picture. "This is Henderson, who is a little shit might I add. Then we have Lucas, Erica, and Mike."
He puts the picture back on wall and turns to set up his TV and VCR.
"What about this one?" You point at the faded picture of a woman and baby. Instantly cringing when you opened your big mouth.
"That's me and my Mom." He smiles fondly at the mention of her. "She passed when I was little."
"I'm sorry, Eddie." You feel guilty for even asking.
He looks up at you. "Wanna hear the story about how I first got arrested?"
"Oh, um, sure."
He clears his throat and puts a tape in his VCR.
"Well, I was about 16, and I had just got my first guitar. So I went to her grave because I wanted to show her. I saved up all of my money that summer, too. I was working at this mechanic shop and then did little tedious jobs around town for some extra cash. Eddies smiling, but there is some sadness behind his eyes.
"So I go to her grave and pull out my guitar and brag about how I paid for it all on my own. I laid back against her headstone and strummed away on the cords. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was in handcuffs getting put in a police car." His eyes getting glassy at the memory. You can see he's fighting back tears.
Clearing his throat again, "and that's how I got arrested."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring anything up." You apologized as guilt was eating away at you. "Nah, it's okay. I like talking about her."
"Any who you ready to watch this movie and eat?" He exclaimed, clapping his hands wanting to change the topic.
You nod feeling a little relieved he doesn't seem upset you asked about his Mom. He runs to the kitchen to pull out two pizza boxes from his oven and sets them down on the coffee table. He gets the movie started and turns off most of the lights except for in the kitchen. You and Eddie sit back on the couch with his arm draped around you. You lean close against him to get comfy as the main title starts to roll.
There was tension again and the not bad kind either. The same kind that was present when you were together in his van on your first date. Eddie kept glancing down at you as you tried to put all of your focus in the movie. You felt his fingertips brush your skin underneath your pullover. You looked up at him and noticed his attention on the screen. He was playing innocent. It was an innocent little touch at first, but he wanted to slowly work you up.
His fingers tracing light patterns as they slowly inched their way to the waistband of your tights. His eyes still focused on the movie when you looked back up. He seemed like he didn't notice you watching him, but he did. A devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees you squirm. He inches his fingers further until they are playing with the elastic of your panties. He pulls and snaps the band back against your hip.
You try to remain focused on the movie playing in front of you. He seemed like he wasn't really aware of what he was currently doing to you. His eyes haven't left the tv since he pressed play from what you can tell. You felt his hand dipping lower and lower into your tights. His hand almost cupping your sex. You're breathing heavier, anticipating for him to keep going further down. You feel a finger trace up your slit brushing over your clit. You let out a small gasp and try to remain calm. You look back up at him and notice his eyes remain forward. You turn back to the TV, and he chuckles to himself, watching you wriggle next to him.
You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to rub across your clit once more before moving your panties to side. His middle finger dipped down to your opening. He groans a low hum when he feels how wet you already are for him. Your breathing increases. You want him to keep touching you. He looks down at you for moments and notices how tight you're squeezing his leg.
He bends down to whisper in your ear. "Come sit in my lap, baby."
His breath tickled your neck.
You dont hesitate not for one second. You immediately moved to lay back on his lap, letting one leg hang off the side of the couch. You can feel his hard length pressing into the curve of your ass. His hand dipped down in your panties to glide his fingers between your wet folds. You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. "I know, baby. I know. God, you're so wet already."
"Keep going." You gasp when you felt one of his fingers press on your aching clit.
"Gonna make you feel so good tonight."
Your legs already trembling, and he's barely touched you.
"I can't wait to get you all messy." He grunted when he felt you shift in his lap. Your ass grinding against him. His cock painfully hard in his jeans it's just begging to be set free.
"Shit..take these off." He pulled at your tights.
You moved to yank them down to your ankles and kicking the tights off. Your slick already soaking through the lace material of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them off you almost tearing the fabric. You're completely naked from the waist down.
You feel his middle finger dip down again and tease at your entrance. Adding another, he pushes them in, splitting you open. His fingers lazily pumping inside you. Your slick dripping down, making a small wet patch on his leg. Your clit throbbing at Eddie's continued neglect. You can't take it anymore. You move your hand slowly to rub languid circles around your sensitive bud. "Fuck that's it play with yourself."
"You're so fucking hot." He nips at your earlobe watching as your and his hand works on your pussy.
His fingers plunging deep and harder inside you. Your breathing ragid as you writhe on his lap. Your moans mix with sounds of terror blaring from his TV. You're sure his neighbors are used to it. He curved his middle and index to massage that sweet spot on your walls.
"You like that, sweetheart? " He cooed in your ear.
"Mmm!, yes!" You moan.
You can feel him smile against your neck biting down on the skin. His fingers picking up the pace as they plunge deeper inside you. Your walls getting spread open by his thick digits. Rubbing your clit faster as you feel a tightness building up in your core. Your release approaching you much too soon. Your pussy making the loudest wet sounds as Eddie's fingers spread you open. His hand getting drenched in your slick.
"My girl gettin' close?" His rasped licking the shell of your ear.
Your ass grinding down harder against him making it difficult for Eddie not to cum in his jeans.
Your bucking up your hips as your own fingers work on your aching clit. Eddie can't believe this once shy girl is now lying across his lap with his fingers buried deep in her. The sight alone was enough for him to make him cum.
Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel your thighs twitcing, and you close them tightly around his hand, keeping him tightly in place. You're orgasm ripping powerfully through your body. Eddie takes his other hand to push your legs back open. His long, thick fingers stretching your sensitive walls as they pulsate around him. The pads of his fingertips pruning from your wetness. Taking his other hand to push yours off to rub on your clit helping you ride out your orgasm.
"That's it baby cum for me." He praised.
Your body vibrates as you came down from your high. Your orgasm leaving you almost limp in his arms. Your legs feel numb and jello like. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from inside you. There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as your breathing evens out. The only sounds in the apartment are now the ones of pure agony coming from his TV.
"Wanna make you cum all night long." He breathed.
You look up at him, eyes slowly opening and closing.
Can you sit on my thigh for me?" He asked softly.
You carelessly nod. Your body felt like it was floating.
You sit up and slowly move to stand. Your legs wobble, and you almost fall, but Eddie catches you by the hips. He guides you to sit and straddle his thigh. You can see the imprint of his cock in his pants. You lick your lips, remembering the size of him. You sit down your bare pussy now rubbing on his pants. His hands still firmly on your hips, moving you to grind against him.
"Like this." He showed you.
You take the perfect opportunity to lick and suck at the sensitive spot under his neck, earning you a little whimper from him. Your soft lips leave a trail of kisses behind after each bite. He tries holding back another moan as your mouth continues to attack his neck. You grind harder on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him like he showed you. His fingers digging into the your ass as your pussy grinds on him. Your clit rubbing on the rough material.
He can feel your wetness soaking his leg as you grow closer to cuming again. He removes you away from his throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing as your tongues dance together. He halts your movements on his thigh, lifting you up slightly.
"Look at that mess you’ve made." He teased. Your slick very noticeable on his dark jeans.
"Oh! Eddie. You whine loving how he seemed to be mocking you.
"W-we're supposed to be watching a movie." Your legs burning and your clit aching as you rub it faster on his leg.
"You looked scared.....thought I distract you." He sounded almost genuine. He licks a strip up your throat, making you let a small whine.
"M'not scared." You mumbled, trying to defend yourself. Eddie knew you weren't scared.
Each time you speak, every word is followed with a cry of pleasure.
Eddie laughs. "I know, you weren't. I was so scared. I had to distract myself."
He fakes a pout, gripping your ass painfully hard. His fingers digging into your skin.
Eddie pulls you back down against him roughly and moves to help you grind faster. Your chest rising and falling quickly as you feel another orgasm approaching you. You move against him rubbing your throbbing clit on his leg. You can feel that tightness in your core building up again. This time, it's approaching you stronger than the last.
"S'good." You mewled, grinding your hips back and forth.
You inhale your breath and bury your face in his neck as your second orgasm washes over you. It felt like adam was bursting open. You cum so hard on him tears leak from your eyes. Your hands grip his shoulders while he moves your hips to continue grinding on him.
"That's it cum all over me." His voice so deep and husky. You swear you could cum just by listening to him.
You rest your head on him, your body covered in sweat as Eddie rubs your back.
"You did so good." He whispered in your ear.
You sit there in his lap until you build up enough strength to move. Your mind hazy, and your vision is blury.
"Let's go to my room." He kissed your swollen lips and helped you stand.
"Okay." You move to get up, and Eddie takes you by the hand. Your legs feel weak but strong enough to still walk.
He guides you to his bedroom and opens up the door, revealing a large bed with black sheets. The room was dark except for a black light on the table next to his bed. There was a glowing green skull poster above his headboard. Eddie pulled you to the other side of the room and took your pullover off, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples hardening into little peaks as the cold air hits your naked chest. He quirks an eyebrow up when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra tonight.
"Lay back for me." He asked, kissing you one more time.
You move to lay against the pillows behind you. You watch as he rummages through his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. He tosses it next to you on the bed and takes off his shirt. You can see the outline of his cock so prominent even in dark. Clenching your legs together, thinking about him buried inside you.
Eddie moves over to your side of the bed, taking his pants and boxers off. His pale skin glowing under the purplish lighting of his bedroom. His cock springing free and he lets out a deep sigh. "Im gonna cum on those pretty tits of yours kay?"
Biting down on your lip, you nod eagerly, waiting for him to begin.
He moves to straddle your waist and reaches over to pick up the bottle he tossed earlier. He pops the top open and squirts the clear gel on his palm. Fisting his cock rubbing the lube up and down his shaft. He brushes his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum. Eddie begins to stroke his shaft as you watch. He's pumping his cock in a slow pace watching you not taking your eyes away from him. You moved your hands to rub down his abdomen, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a strangled moan when he feels your nails scratch into his skin.
He leans over with one hand by your head, and the other still stroking his cock.
"W-wanna fuck you so bad baby." He groans above you. His face just mere inches away from yours.
Eddie's thinking back to that night you called him on his show. How your wanton moans ringed in his ears almost every night since then. He picks up the pace as he fucks his hand wishing it were you instead. The way you begged him help you cum for the first time.
He fists his cock faster lube dripping down from his palm and on your stomach. Some of it splashes on your chest from how hard he's going. His grip tightened when he heard you let out a little whimper. He's all teary-eyed and body glistening in sweat. His cock making a filthy schlick noise similar to what you heard on the phone last night.
"I wanna make you feel so fucking good." He sits back up pumping his cock so hard the veins in his forearm are now visible. His bicep flexing with every stroke.
Your hands move to grip and rub up and down his thighs. Your mouth watering as you watched his precum trickle down to his knuckles.
"You're so big, Eddie." You purred under him.
He lets out a choked sob loving when you tell him how big he is. He already knows, but hearing you say it does something to him. He's so desperate for you all he's imagined since meeting you is having you like this. Hearing you speak to him like that is almost too much to handle. How you're talking to him the same way he talks to you. The way your shyness fades away when you're alone together. He loves it.
Don't cum, Don't cum, Don't cum. His inner monologue chants. Eddie tries not to focus too much on what you're saying but fuck its hot hearing it coming from you.
"God, I'm gonna f-ffking ruin you." His voice strained from grunting so much. He's fucking himself harder to the point his arm is beginning to hurt. The chain on his wrist rattling and clanking around.
He moves up a little higher when he feels himself getting close. His hand fists his cock in a tight strong grip. His pulse quickened with each stroke. His aching cock begging to cum already. He's trying to prolong it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can hold out for.
"Need your cum Eddie." You begged digging your nails into his skin.
Rolling his eyes to the back of his head cursing under his breath. His mouth hung open as drool spilled down his chin and onto you. "Please cum on me."
"Jesus christ," He breathed. His legs almost giving out on him as he kneeled above you.
His hips thrust forward, rocking his bed against the wall. His hand tightened around him as he imagines its you. His tip leaking precum down to his knuckles. Eddie needs to cum now he can't hold it any longer. He fists his length pumping faster than before. His cock twitches in his palm, and he lets out the most animalistic groan you've ever heard. His cum shooting out and covering your tits.
He falls forward, almost landing on top of you. Your tits covered in his cum just like he imagined. Eddie sat up to admire the work he's just done on your breasts. He bends over without a second thought, licking his mess off you. His tongue lapping away until you're clean of him. Sucking and biting down on your sensitive nipples making you push your tits closer to his mouth. Eddie sat up to look at you for a moment. His mouth full of his own cum and spit. He grips your jaw with his hand firmly. Pulling your chin down until your mouth is opened wide for him. You already know have an idea of what he's about to do. You stick your tongue out far as it can go waiting for him.
Eddie spits his cum straight into your mouth getting it all over your tongue allowing you to taste him. You close your mouth, swallowing every bit you received. Enjoying the saltiness of his essence on your taste buds. "You like how I taste, huh?"
"I love the way you taste." You whisper, feeling his cum go down your throat. His taste lingering on your tongue.
"Such a good girl. You didn't waste a drop." He spoke softly, tapping your checking gently.
He moves to sit up straight against his headboard. You lay there naked, not really knowing what you should do next. Do you leave now? Does he want you to stay? Your insecurities start creeping back up. You shouldn't feel this way. He's never once made you think he didn't want to be around you.
"Fuck!..shit!" He breathed heavily laughing to himself. He notices how quiet you've gotten all of a sudden. "You okay?"
"Mhmm, yeah, I'm great." You look over at him. You weren't lying. You felt great, but there was this awkwardness that only you were feeling. You were bracing yourself to be let down and told to pick up your clothes and leave.
Eddies does the exact opposite. He isn't like that. Not with you. Most women left him afterward without a moments thought. No one ever stayed over, and he was hopeful you would. He wished at least one girl would have, and he'd wake up to them stroking his hair. He'd cook them breakfast and laugh over their food. That never happened. He went to bed alone and woke up alone.
"Want a shirt to sleep in?" He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. His voice croaked.
"Oh, um, sure." You give him a shy smile.
Eddie did want you to stay and spend the night. He didn't want to you leave like you assumed. He runs a hand down his face, cleaning off some of the sweat, trying to gather himself a bit more. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he walks over to a chair with various discarded clothes. Picking up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tosses the shirt over to you as he puts his pj's on.
The shirt is old with some holes and bleach stains. With an Iron Maiden logo plastered on the front. You throw it over your head and lay back, trying to get comfortable. "We never did eat."
"Too tired now." Your eyes growing heavy as you watch Eddie make his way back to you.
He gets back in bed, throwing the covers over you both. "Yeah, me too."
You turn so your back is facing him, sinking deeper into the mattress. His bed is warm and soft. You feel him drap and arm over you, bringing you to press up against his bare chest. You wanted to ask him something, but your mind is still foggy from earlier to recall what it was. Your body is so weak, and your legs feel like you ran a marathon. Soft snores from behind let you know Eddie has already passed out. Probably right when his head hit the pillows. You figured you'd stop over thinking things and just rest, too. You were definitely going to need it.
-
The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no sign of Eddie. His spot cold as the sun peaks through the tiny cracks of his blinds. You move to get up and make your way through his apartment. You're still in his old Iron maiden shirt as you remembered your clothes were previously thrown around his living room and bedroom. Your face heating up when you think about what the two of you did last night. What did he to you last night. How good he made you feel and never did he make you feel guilty for anything you didn't do. He didn't pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with.
You make your way down the short hallway until you stop at the living room. The curtains were wide open this time allowing you to see his home better. Not only did he play guitar and collect little figurines, but he was also an artist. Multiple paintings and drawings decorating his walls with a little EM scribbled at the bottom. A pan crashing in the kitchen startles you, and you rush to see if Eddie's okay.
You run and freeze in the doorway when you notice his bare back is to you cooking at the stove. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filling your nose making your stomach growl. He was making you breakfast. No guy you've ever seen made you breakfast before. The more you're around Eddie, the faster you feel like you're falling for him. He was too good to be true, you thought. There has to be something wrong with him.
He feels you standing at the door.
"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" He smiled over his shoulder, flipping another pancake.
"I slept good, actually." You moved to sit on a barstool watching him cook.
"Yeah, me too." A grin plastered on his face, remembering last night too. He smiled fondly at the memory of you naked on his bed.
"Hope you're hungry because I made food."
Your stomach growling louder at the mention of food. You and him didn't do much eating last night. "I'm starving, actually,"
He pulls down two plates, one for you and him. You sit gazing around his apartment, waiting for him to finish up. You must have been daydreaming because the sound of glass clinking in front of you made jump almost out of your seat.
"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He sets a couple of pancakes on your plate. Picking up a can of whipped cream, creating a little smiley face for you.
"Eat up!" Eddie looked proud of his work on your plate. "I made these special."
He moves to sit down next to you and shoves a fork full of food in his mouth. You pick at your plate a little, wanting to eat but dreading the goodbye that's soon to come.
"You're not eating." He leaned over close as he noticed not one bite of food has been taken from your plate. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About?" He questioned, turning his attention back to the pancakes smothered in whipped cream and way too maple syrup.
"It's not important." You murmured.
You pick up your fork and finally take a bite of your pancakes. Your mood suddenly switches now that you have food in your belly. You didn't realize he had put blueberries in them. They were light and fluffy but not too sweet. The whipped cream made into the shape of a smiley face melting away.
You glance over, seeing him focused on his food, not a thought behind those eyes right now. He was mesmerized by the sugary goodness in front of him.
"I didn't know you played bass too." You commented, trying to grab his attention.
Nodding his head, he looked over and smiled. "Yep."
"I played bass in my first band, but I liked being certain of attention too much, so I opted for guitar." He joked, but you know there was some truth to that. Taking another large bite, clearing his plate of pancakes and bacon.
"Want me to play you a song before we head out for the day?"
"Sure!" You exclaimed, dropping your fork with a loud clunk.
You've never seen or heard him play before. You know you'll be seeing him soon this Wednesday, but you just can't wait that long. Even though it's only a few days away.
He hops off the barstool and heads over to pull out his equipment. "Come over here, sweetheart."
He moved this big amp to the middle of the floor and patted it while motioning for you to come sit down. You gingerly got up as your legs still feel a little wobbly. You plop your butt down on the amp. "Ah ah, straddle it."
"Please."
There was a devious glint in his eyes.
You look at him confused but move, so each of your legs is on either side of the amp. He walked over, plugging in his bass and messing with the nobs on the Amp. He looked at you for a split second a sly grin appearing on his face. You're still confused about what he's up to, but you know he's up to something.
"Good girl." He bent over kissing the side of your head. "Gonna play my pretty girl a song before she starts her day."
You sit there all smiles while you watch him get everything set up. Maybe he is innocent time and isn't up to something. But you've seen that grin one too many times, and you've only just met.
"I'm gonna play you a personal favorite of mine." He plucked the string slightly, testing to see if the amp was on properly.
"Song is Orion by the way." He winked.
He begins plucking away at the cords and watches you intently. The amp in between your legs starts coming to life and rattle with vibrations. Your legs twitch, and you move to stand up, but Eddie shoots you a look, and you sit right back down. Your breath hitches the faster he starts to play. You try to remain focused on him, but the faster he plays, the more intense the amp vibrates.
"This is my favorite part to play." He raised his voice a little so you can hear him.
The song calms down just a little, making the amp die down. You exhale a deep breath, thinking it was over. Your clit throbs between your legs from Eddie's previous abuse last night.
"How you feeling, baby?" He asked, knowing the song was about to pick up speed again.
You stifle a moan. "I'm good."
"Grind on it like you did my leg." He commanded, shooting you a stern look.
He's never spoken or looked at you like that before. He sounded almost domineering, and you won't lie. You liked the way it made you feel.
"That's it, you're so good." His fingers steadily working on the bass slung over his chest.
You do as you're told and rock back and forth on the amp. The song picking up more speed, and you feel that coil in your tummy getting tighter. Your legs trembling as you struggle to do as you're told. Your body telling you to stand up and get off but the need to cum was too over powering. He picks at the strings harder and faster. "Oh fuck!"
"E-Eddie, I can't please....i-its too much," you pleaded. Your clit still sore from last night it felt almost bruised.
"You can. Just relax." He reassured.
You nod your head and focus while the vibration on your core intensified. You rock your hips, grinding down on his amp. Each pluck of the strings as the song changes tempo makes your whole body tremble. The song is coming close to an end, and soon, the closer you are to your release.
"Mmmfph! I'm gonna cum." You moan loud over the music.
"I know, baby!" He yelled back over the music.
You ride the amp harder and faster as your release approaches. With a sharp intake of breath, as another orgasm washes over you, sending shockwaves throughout your body. You almost topple over on the floor, but Eddie quickly rushes to catch you. "I got you, don't worry."
He set his bass down on the floor, holding on to your arm with one hand. He carefully helps you to your feet, and your legs almost give out. "You okay?"
"I'm okay, yeah." You panted.
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah, just warn me next time." You playfully swatted at his chest.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I had to make sure I'd be on your mind all day." He laughed, walking you down the hallway. He turned to see the very noticeable sticky mess you left behind.
He helped you to the bathroom, letting you get washed up before you both got dressed to head out. He mentioned how he has class, but he'd love for you to listen to his show tonight. You never told him you do that almost every time he was on air. Day dreaming about meeting him. You had class too during the same hours as him so you couldn't grab lunch like he'd suggested. Which is fine. You'll be seeing him in a few days anyway. You are going to miss him, though. You had fun and truth be told you didn't want to stay again. He didn't want you to leave either. If he could lock you up in this apartment with him, he would. No hesitations. Just the two of you alone together.
Eddie gave you a ride home so you can put on some clean clothes. He gave you one long kiss before you hopped out of his van.
"I'll see you Wednesday." He gave a wink before pulling off.
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Wednesday came a lot slower than you wished for it to. You tried to keep yourself occupied with work and class. Wishing the time flew by fast like the last time, but it didn't. Those last few days leading up to his performance seemed to drag a long. You just wanted to see Eddie and be with him. You already planned tonight was the night.
You planned your outfit and makeup. Already having your dress hanging up on your closet. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and take you to the bar, but you declined since you didn't know how long it would take getting ready. You'd planned to run straight home after work and not waste any time. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan because you had to work almost an hour past when you're supposed to clock out. You pleaded to your manager that you have to leave soon. You had plans. Very, very important plans.
Finally, you were able to leave, and you sprinted home grateful you lived very close by. Busting through your front door, almost knocking down the pictures on your wall on the way to your bedroom. You were already extremely late to see him as is. You know his band already started their first song, and you hope Eddie doesn't notice your absence.
You threw on your dress that was much shorter than the last one he saw you in. You chose to wear heels again, knowing you were probably going to trip at some point tonight. You regret not taking Eddie up on his offer to drive you to the Hideout. Racing out the door and down the street into town. Now was a good time to regret not owning a car. Your feet are already killing you on the pavement. Luckily, the bar is right near campus as well. You're already cringing at the blisters that will be on your toes by tomorrow.
Flashing red signs and loud music fill your ears. You can see the bar on the far right corner of the busy street. Cars line up down the road as they make their to the same destination as you. Some of the people you can recognize from class or the coffee shop. Entering the bar, you can hear Eddie before you even see him. He's already thanking everyone for attending tonight. He told you his sets aren't long, only about forty minutes since other bands play there too. He begrudgingly has to share the stage.
You guess he was on his second to last song by the time you arrived. You felt terrible missing half of his show. You didn't expect to work so late, particularly on a Wednesday evening. You were a little taken back by the number of people out mid week.
You see him at last up on stage in far back. The bar is a lot bigger than you imagined. You're struggling to get closer to the stage. There is a tiny corner close to him that's empty you noticed. Your feet in pain and with people stepping on them as you push past, you won't be surprised if they're not bleeding yet. You almost have to force your way over there. You didn't expect this many people to show up. The Hideout was also the only bar closest to everyone, so obviously, they'd all gather here. Eddies band was also very popular with the local metalheads.
You finally reached the small little empty corner near him. You have a good view of the side stage and audience. You see him singing and thrashing away on his guitar. His hair is down and sticks to his neck. The chain hanging around his neck now tangled. His shirt is drenched in beer and sweat. Not his beer. Some guy apparently threw a drink on him earlier from what you manage to overhear from people in the crowd. They were applauding how Eddie threw the guy off the stage.
You look over and notice almost a sea of women in the front. Well, not exactly a sea of women but a very good amount of them. One too many for your liking. They're all make bedroom eyes at him and flashing their tits. You feel something coming over you as you watch them take off their bras and throw it on stage. You noticed one tied up and hanging from his mic stand. Were you jealous or angry? You're not sure, but you dont like how you feel. You watched him look at them and no one else. If you weren't jealous before, you sure as hell are now. Eddie was yours. There was this burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to leave but not without him.
His set was coming to an end as he announced the last song Corroded Coffin would be performing tonight. You wanted to move so he could see you, but it's too late. A huge mob rushed to the front stage. People jumping up there with him to head bang. More articles of clothing are thrown his way. You lean up against the brick wall behind you, trying to calm down. Your nerves are all worked up not only from the girls but also from the number of people here tonight. You're not used to large crowds like this.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming to see us tonight. we're Corroded coffin." Eddie announced in the mic.
He moves to leave the stage and almost walks right past you. He doesn't notice you at first with his head hanging low.
"Eddie!" You yelled, trying to get his attention and grab his writs.
His head quickly pops up, looking to see who just grabbed him. His face softened when he saw it was you. "Hey, you came. Follow with me."
He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you backstage. Eddie gave quick hi's and byes as you tagged along. It was much brighter back there with dingy white walls that had graffiti all over them. Different bands signing each brick signifying they played there. You overheard his other members discussing whose car would be moving the equipment back to Gareth's place. Eddie drags you down various different corridors until he's pulling you in a private bathroom.
"You like the show?" He asked, turning on the faucet to wash his hands and face off.
"Yeah, you were great." You still had this jealous feeling in your stomach. You felt build the more you tried to drown it out.
He turns off the water and walks over to you. You back away until you couldn't anymore. Eddie eyes at what you're wearing, licking his lips. Your dress is barely covering anything at all. "You look nice."
"Thank you." You whispered.
He bends down to give you a heated kiss. His lips crash onto yours. You open your mouth to breathe, and that's when he sneaks his tongue in. His hands creeping grip your ass over your dress. His kiss is intoxicating as his tongue explores your mouth. You melt into him.
He breaks away. "Need to take you home."
He's panting heavy pupils already blown out with lust.
"I wanna go to your place."
He pulls you away from the door, grabbing your arm and making a bee line for the exit.
"Don't you have to help pack up?" You try to keep up with him as your heels scrap the floor.
"They're fine."
You don't what possessed you, but the moment you got him alone in his van, your hands and lips were all over him. Reaching over to rub his semi hard cock over his pants while he tries to focus on the road. You can feel him hardening under your palm.
"S-sweetheart, come on, wait just a few minutes. He pleaded, feeling himself getting harder. His cock straining painfully on the zipper of his jeans. "We're almost there."
You lean over closer sucking and biting his neck, earning you a groan. You move your hand slowly down his abdomen until it reaches his belt. You unbuckle and undo the button to his pants. His eyes trained on the road a head. Both hands tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are almost turning white.
"Oh god." He rasped when he felt your hand slip past his boxers.
His chest heaving and his jaw clenches. You were acting very bad right now. You know you should stop. You know doing this kind of thing can be dangerous. You just couldn't wait to have him any longer.
"W'nna gag on your cock Eddie." You smile biting your lip.
You continue teasing and rubbing his length. "Can you fuck me tonight?" He's so thick your hand can barely wrap around it. You're salvating, remembering how you struggled to fit him all in your mouth.
He coughed, choking on his spit when you heard you. He doesn't know what's gotten into you tonight, but he is not complaining.
You remove your hand from his pants and give the side of his mouth a quick peck. You move back to your seat and put your seat belt back on. You let him drive peacefully until he gets to his apartment building. He looks to the buldge in his pants and back to you. He's mad. Mad that you teased him like this and then just left him.
"Just wait until I get you inside." Eddie's eyes never leaving the road to look at you. His jaw clenching.
You squeeze your thighs together, getting turned on at what he's planning on doing to you. You don't know why, but you like seeing him get mad.
He speeds up when he sees his building ahead. You need him bad tonight. You can still taste him on your tongue. The screeching of tires coming to a complete stop, letting you know you've arrived at his place. Eddie wasted no jumping out the driver side and practically pulling you out of the van. He leads you inside with your arm still in his grip.
His lips are all over you as you're heading up the stairs to his apartment. You both tripped over one another, making your way up each step. His hands are running all over your body. From your ass and thighs to your tits. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching you. He just wants to throw you on his bed and rip that dress off from your body. Spread you open and have you begging him not to stop.
You don't even recall how you made it inside his apartment. You kick your shoes off and strip him of his shirt. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. He backs you up against the couch, your ass hitting the arm.
"Turn around." His mumbles as you bite at his bottom lip.
You break away to look at him, confusion written all over your face.
"I said, turn. around." He instructed in a demanding like tone.
You do as you're told and turn around. His naked chest pressed against your back. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass. "You were a bad girl back there."
"I think you need a good spanking, hm?" His mouth was right by ear as he whispered seductively. He moves his hand to give you a swift slap on your ass. You yelp when you felt him.
Your nipples harden through your dress. His hands are feeling up your legs. His fingers tips goasting over the skin of your thighs. He goes to remove your panties when he noticed you're not wearing any.
"Oh," He marveled, lifting up your dress. He tsks, shaking his head. "You're being so bad tonight." He's taunting you. Playing with you a little. Wanting to rile you up before giving you what you want.
He moves from behind you to sit down on the couch.
"Over my lap." He sounded frustrated he had to do this, and you liked it. His sudden dominance with you. A complete contrast to the Eddie you're used to.
You move to lay across his lap. You shiver with anticipation, waiting for him to spank you for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last you thought to yourself.
He hand pulls back, and with no warnings, he smacks you hard on the ass. You gasp and jolt forward. He doesn't give you time to adjust before doing it again and again. Your ass stinging from the impact his palm was making. His hand is an angry red shade from how hard he's going.
You don't know if you were supposed to count or not, but if you had to guess, you'd say he's given you five so far. Tears spilling down your face ruining your makeup. "Aww, you crying? No crying baby, you deserve this."
"You did this to yourself now. Take it like a good girl." Eddie sighed. He swats you again for the eigth time. "Could have gotten us hurt back there.
"Can't have my pretty girl gettin' hurt." He spoke gently to you. He was right. You shouldn't have done that.
Eddie, stops to check in on you. Not wanting to push you past any limits.
"You gonna be my good girl?" His hand smoothing over your very sore cheeks.
"M'sorry I'll be good." You sniffle. It hurt, but you liked it. The wetness pooling between your legs every time his hand connected to your ass.
He lifts up your dress, exposing your bare ass to him. His fingers moving to tease at your opening. Your slick running down your inner thighs.
"Someone enjoys getting spanked, I see." He mocked, slowly pushing two fingers in your entrance.
"Mmhm y-yes I like it." You mewled, feeling his fingers working you open. You let out a high-pitched squeal, feeling him curving them upwards. His thick fingers plunging in your pussy. You grip a tight hold on his thighs while his fingers are busy thrusting into you.
"Bedroom...now," He commanded in a stern voice, ripping his fingers from you with a loud wet pop as they make their leave. A long string of your slick connecting the two of you together. Eddie brings the two digits to his mouth, cleaning them off.
That's all you had to hear before leaving him alone. You strip yourself of your dress, throwing it to the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed waiting for him. His room is exactly how he left it the last time you were stayed. Your ass still stinging from his hand.
Eddie walked through the doorway of his bedroom. He's jeans discarded somewhere in his living area. He walks over and towers over you.
"You really want to do this?" He asked, making sure you were absolutely ready.
"Yes... I need you." You pleaded.
You desperately needed him. You can't go much longer without having him inside you. You felt like you were going to go insane. He's looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. You felt safe. You always have with him.
He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Eddie crawled over top of you until you were flat on your back. He reached down between your legs to tease at your opening some more, wanting to get you ready for him. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access.
Eddie hums at the sight of you spread out for him. Only him. Your pussy glistening in the dim light of his bedroom and it takes all his strength to not just fuck you right then. He sinks down to his knees and yanks you down roughly so your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spits down on your pussy before spreading your folds apart with his tongue. You sigh feeling his warm tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs hanging over his shoulders. The little stumble starting to grow on his chin, tickling your folds. It was too much.
You gripped and clawed at the sheets on the bed beneath you. Eddie puts one finger to your entrance and pushes in until it disappeared. He curved his middle finger upward pumping it in your pussy rubbing at that spongey spot on your walls. You grip his hair as his mouth works on your clit. He grunts against you, making your whole body quiver. Eddie is going at you like a man starved. His mouth never lets up for one second. His eyes closed as he got lost in your taste. Savoring every drop of your slick on his tongue.
Your legs try to close around his head, and he grips one tightly, pushing it away. Your hips lifting as you're writhing around feeling your orgasm building. Eddie can feel you getting close when your walls clenched and pulsed around his finger. His plump lips sucking at your clit harder. You were almost there. So close and just as you were about to cum. Eddie stopped suddenly removing his mouth from you and pulling his finger away. Your walls still pulsating as he denied you of your orgasm. His face was shiny and covered in your juices. He looks up giving you an amused look.
You frown at him, knowing he’s messing with you for what you did to him in the van.
"Why'd you stop? I was so close." You almost wanted to cry. "I need you...I just wanna cum p-pleeease make me cum."
You'd do anything at this point to have him inside of you. Your pussy was practically crying for his cock to nestled deep inside you.
"My girl wants me to fuck her?" He whispered with a sultry tone. "Is that it?"
"Yeah," you replied. your voice barely above a whisper.
"Aww baby, don't cry." Eddie cooed, noticing the sad look on your face after what he just done. He wasn't going to deny you anymore. How could he when you're looking at him like that.
You nod your head slowly. "Need it so so so bad."
"Gonna have you feelin' so full." He sits up aligning his cock on top of your pussy. Showing you how far in he's going to be.
"Look at that...look how deep I'm going to be." He's so hard for you. Feels like with just the slightest touch you give him, he could explode on the spot.
You squirm under his gaze, arching your back, waiting as patiently as you possibly could. You know he's going to go about this slow. He's going to be extra careful with you. He's going to tease and taunt you because he wants to here you beg for it. He holds the base of his cock slapping it against your sore clit. Getting his precum on your wet folds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your face feels all fuzzy and warm.
"Don't tease me anymore." You whine, stifling a moan when the head of his cock dips down to your entrance. He pushes just a few inches in parting you open. Your eyes fluttering closed when you get a little taste at what's to come.
Eddie doesn't stay for long he removes himself teasing your clit with his tip. Rubbing your juices and his precum all over your sore bud. You thrash and grip a hold of his sheets. Your walls clenching around nothing again as they're so ready to be stretched open by him. Each time his tip pushes at your opening, you feel that coil in your belly creeping back up. You were on the verge of cuming just moments before he denied the chance. You know the second his cock sinks in you won't be able to hold it.
He rubs his cock up and down nudging your clit with his leaking tip over and over again. Your slick drenching his length. He thought he was going to need to use his lube, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Your pussy is drenched with your juices. You were more than ready for him. Eddie just enjoyed getting you worked up. Hearing your sweet little cries anytime he gets his cock close enough to your opening. The way your legs squeeze around him, trying to keep him from moving away. How your eyebrows squint together and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. "Eddieeee," your whiny and breathy sobs make him almost take pity on you. Almost.
"Eddieeee," He repeated back, mocking the same pout you have on your face.
He drags his cock through your wet folds repeatedly making a lewd wet schlick noise.
" You're bein' mean,' you whine, tears spill down your face again. Mascara and eyeliner ruined in the process.
He stops that cocky grin reappearing on his face. "Is that so?"
You nod, not daring to say a word back. You're getting impatient with him. He's been working you up for what felt like hours now. Your clit throbbing and sore even with the slightest brush of his head making your breath hitch. His precum and your juices smeared all over your pussy. You assumed he's felt a little bad for you, when he starts to slowly pushing the tip of his cock through your entrance. Truth be told he could do this all night long if he wanted.
Eddie stills for a moment, only letting his tip split you open. Your head falls back against the pillows. Finally, you thought, but your relief was cut short when he removed it again. You huff in frustration and let the neediest whimper he's ever heard. Eddie relentlessly teasing your pussy as he slides his length through your folds. Slapping and nuding your clit with his length. Your body all sticky with sweat. Everytime his cock hit your tender neglected clit you begged and pleaded to him. You're teetering on the cusp of an orgasm and he doesn't seem to want to let you. Not right now, at least. He just keeps building it up only to rip you of the chance.
Your face twisting in a grimace. Why does he keep teasing you? You already learned your lesson. You were beginning to think he wasn't going to give you what you wanted after all.
"God!, you're so!-" Your sentence cut short when he licks his fingers and slaps your pussy just hard enough to shut you up. You gasped more so from shock.
The pain and pleasure mixed together was something you never thought you'd enjoy until tonight.
You instantly calmed down.
"Theeere she is." He purrs, pushing his thumb in your mouth as you instinctively suck on it wishing it was his cock.
"Ya ready for me?."Eddie asked, aligning himself back up at your entrance. He removes his thumb, allowing you to speak. A string of spit connecting you to him.
"m'ready." You rasped.
You feel the head of his cock right by your opening. "Oo!, yes, I'm--im ready." Your body burning with desire to feel him. To finally have him.
His thick tip gingerly splitting you open. Eddie getting just a few inches deeper than the last time, but it was enough to almost make you scream. He pauses to put both of his hands on each side of your head.
"Good....because I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning." His assured speaking low.
You knew he was serious about that. You and Eddie have been yearning for one another for so long. You just know the moment he's inside of you, it is going to take all of his strength not to lose total control. You look into his eyes, pleading for him to give you more. You want it all. You need it all. You don't care how sore you're going to be tomorrow. Your brain clouded by lust and the need to be fucked by him.
Eddie pushes in a little more and dips his head to bite down hard on your shoulder. Your hands moving to tug at his hair. The feeling of you tightening up around him as he breaches past your opening was almost too much for him to handle. He can't cum. Not yet. He's just getting started. Eddie tries to focus on anything else. He's talked a big game to you up until this point. He needs to last, but you just feel so good. You're so wet and warm. You hug him just right, and he's not even all the way in yet. You're perfect.
"More." You begged, not knowing Eddie was keeping still for a particular reason.
"Patience baby, gimme a sec." He exhaled a long breath before kissing your shoulder where his teeth marks now were. "Tryin not to cum."
"Shit!, you're ju-just so fucking tight." He grunted.
You didn't know you were having this type of effect on him. You won't lie it feels nice knowing that. You lean up to kiss him. Your lips lazily press to his. You were soft and delicate with him. You moan in his mouth when you feel him pushing in a little deeper.
He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged. He's sinking in inch by inch agonizingly slow. Trying to let you accommodate him. "You're so good, you know that?"
"S-so mmmfph, so good-- jus' for me." Eddie stammered. His jaw tightening.
"Jus' for you." You murmured against his lips.
"Yeah?" Only me?" Eddie questioned his tongue sneaking out to lick your parted lips.
You felt light-headed. Your mind clouded with so much lust. Every touch and kiss from him was deliberate and sensual. From the way he spoke to you to the way he caressed every curve of your body. You've never been touched this way. No one's ever made you feel this like before. There wasn't an inch of skin where his lips and hands hadn't been.
"Only you." You're breathless.
Eddies wild hair fell over his shoulders. His chain dangling by your face.
The events leading up to this moment were almost too good to be true, you both thought. The phone call. The coffee shop run in. The date. Everything felt surreal. Yet here you are together. He relished in how trusting you were of him so quickly.
Eddie kept pushing himself further inside of you until he was almost bottoming out completely. You wince slightly at the sudden stretch and size of him. "It's okay, relax for me." Eddie coaxed you as he tenderly rubbed at your side, helping you relax. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to get adjusted to his size some more. "I-I can take it...fuck, don't stop."
"Oh, is that so?" Eddie taunted.
"Ya sure I'm not too big for you?"
Swiftly shaking your head no. " jus' please Eddie."
You let out another whine, bucking up your hips. His taunting coming to a full stop when he pushes his cock in a little deeper.
"Goddamn, you're tight," He said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flaring.
Eddie carefully pulls out, leaving just the tip in. Only to slam back inside you, bottoming all the way out this time, letting out a long moan as he did. His length stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots. You've never been this full ever. He felt like he was in your stomach. He starts thrusting into you at a steady pace helping your pussy get warmed up to him.
His bed squeaked with every thrust he gave. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and glides it back in with so much more ease now. You're making the prettiest little noises for him. Your nails scratching over his over broad shoulders and down his back. "Mmm, Eddie, you feel so good."
"G'nna cum inside you." He grunted.
"F-fill you up...get you so full of me." He's blabbering, not really paying attention to what he's saying. "Want, ooh shit!-"
His words cut short when he felt your walls squeezing him. His hips rocking harder against yours. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass. The soft curls between his legs getting soaked in your juices. "Need your cum in me pleeease."
"Don't stop, Eddie!" Your throat burns the louder you called out his name. His cock rubbing that spongey spot on your walls just right. You can't think straight anymore he feels amazing.
His jaw clenches, and you can hear his teeth gritting together. "Ya need it that bad, huh?"
"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna give it all to you." Eddie panted his voice raspy.
"You dirty girl." Eddie tried to tease again. He sounded like he was about to lose his voice."S'needy, begging for my cum."
You let out a loud whiny moan when he rolled his hips. His cock hitting a new angle on your walls. He moves to pin your wrists down beside your head. A shiver sends down your spine when he looked into your eyes. He's rough but gentle all at the same time.
Your juices, so creamy coating felt like his cock was drowning in it. His balls and pelvis now completely saturated. The both of you moaning in unison. He pulls his hips far back, slamming them against yours roughly. Your pussy making the loudest pornographic noises as Eddie continued pumping his cock inside you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off his bedroom walls.
"Oh my god!" You cry out.
He grips your wrists tighter, and you feel like your hands are going numb. Your bodies glistening with beads of sweat. "M'getting s'close."
The coil in your belly tightens the faster your orgasm approaches you again. Eddies cock pumping in your pussy at an almost brutal pace. Your breasts bouncing in his face as he pounds you in his mattress. "Gettin close too, baby."
"Gettin reeeeal fuucking close." Eddie grumbled as his hips rammed against yours.
Eddie, let's go of one of your wrists to snake it down and play with your clit. His calloused fingers rubbing tight circles on your aching bud. Your pussy clenching around his length.
"Fuuucking, christ." He cursed under his breath.
Your orgasm approaching you rapidly. His skilled fingers pressed down harder as he rubbed your clit. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. Eddie takes the opportunity to bite and suck on the tender skin. Your vision goes black, and there is a ringing in your ears. Your head is blank it felt like time stood still. You cum around his cock hard. Your orgasm hitting you in waves. Your legs shake violently around his waist.
Eddie stops thrusting for a moment to watch you come undone. "That's it. That's my good girl cum all over my cock."
"That'a girl." He praised as your orgasm left you unable to speak for some minutes.
He starts rocking his hips into yours. Your head is cloudy as you come down from your high. Your clit still throbbing and your walls still pulsating as your release fades away. Eddies thrusts are getting sloppier as his orgasm is quickly approaching him. Your pussy squelching louder when his cock glides in and out of you. The sound ringing in your ears. His sheets are an absolute mess from you.
"I-i gon-...I'm gonna cum." He moans fumbling over his words. His cock twitched and with a few more powerful thrusts he's spilling hot ropes of cum deep within you coating your walls. He doesn't stop pumping his cock until he's milked himself of every drop.
He collapses all of his weight on you. The two of you lay like that for a brief couple of minutes. You felt him easily remove himself from you, and you frown at the loss. His cum mixed with yours dripping out of your opening and onto his bed. Your entire body felt weak. His face flushed a light pink, making the freckles on his cheeks more noticeable.
Eddie sits up and moves from on top of you. He reaches over to grab a pre rolled joint and light it.
"Shit." He whispered to himself.
He brings the joint to his dry lips and takes a long puff. "Want some?"
"No thanks." You declined still feel dizzy, almost drunk like.
"Wanna take a bath together?" He takes a few more puffs before putting his joint out in the ash tray. The weed mellowing him out.
"Yeah... but I can't. I don't think I can walk." You confessed. Your legs still trembling from earlier.
He smiles proudly. "Here, lemme help."
Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Eddie walked over to you, helping you stand. Your face heating up when you felt his cum sliding down your legs. "I should probably change these sheets, too."
Eddie helps you to his bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he gets the water ready.
"Come on, lets you in." He takes your hand and gently helps raise your legs over the tub, so you don’t fall.
You sat back and hummed, feeling your muscles relax immediately. Eddie gets in behind you and brings your back to lay on his chest. The warm water soothing you both as you clean each other. You feel like you could fall asleep right here if he let you.
"Hey, I'm gonna go change the bed you stay here." He gave you a long, passionate kiss before getting out of the bath.
You watched him put a towel around his waist and leave. You take the opportunity to clean off your face of whatever makeup was left. Hugging your knees to your chest, you feel sleep slow creeping up on you.
Eddies loud voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom startles you awake. "Let's get you dried off."
Your legs much stronger now than they were before. There was a small ache between your legs where he was once buried. You try to ignore it for the time being but you know you're really going to feel it in the morning.
Eddie gives you one of his sweaters to wear, so you'll keep warm. Your dress from earlier discarded somewhere amongst the mess. You jump back into bed next to Eddie. Nestling yourself under his arm curling up in his side. The damps ends of his hair dripping little droplets of water down his chest.
"So, uhh, what got into back there in the van?" He spoke out of nowhere.
"Hmm?" You faked like you didn't just hear him.
"You heard me."
Pushing your face in his side, trying to hide from him.
"What was that?" He jested, putting his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear you the first time.
"I SAID! I got a little jealous. You huffed.
"Jealous? Of what?" He was in utter disbelief.
"The girls at your show...and that stupid bra on your mic stand." You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Oooh, my god!" He belly laughs.
"It's not funny." You argued, squinting your eyes at him. A hint of a smile dancing on your lips.
"You're right. It's not funny." He chuckles. His hand goes to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.
".....next time they throw their bras at me, I'll just sling shot them back."
"Thank you! That's all I'm asking for." You exclaimed dramatically.
He snorts, pulling you back against him to cuddle. You spent the rest of the night joking and making fun of one another lovingly. He admitted he should make you jealous more often if it gets you to act like that. That was quickly disregarded when you shot him a very dirty look.
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It's been a full year since that night. Eddie and you became inseparable. He's since graduated from college and got a good gig as a radio disc jokey for a local radio station. The concept of the show was almost the same, but there were some few minor changes. His "adult segment" got watered down to be more radio friendly. Eddie hated the censorship but figured once he made a bigger name for himself, he wouldn't worry about that stuff anymore.
You were in your last semester of college when Eddie finished. He asked you the moment he got his offer if you wanted to work with him and be his assistant. Not passing up that opportunity to spend more time with him. You said yes with zero hesitations.
"Come on, let me show you our studio." Eddie dragged you into a room filled with various mics and a desk. There was a light above him with glowing orange letters reading "On Air."
The last time you saw him, this excited about anything was when his old friends came to watch him walk across the stage. You didn't think you could be more proud. His eyes lighting up when he showed you the name plate on the door. "That's my name, babe." He tapped on the wooden door.
Tonight was his first show at his new studio. He was nervous but knew most of his listeners were still the same. You sat on the chair next to him. Your short tennis skirt hiking up at little. Eddie kept turning to glance at you while he read from a script. When he would cut to commercial break, his hand would wander up your thigh. You squeezed them shut and smacked him away.
"We can't do that, not now." You whisper yell at him.
"Who says? Who's gonna know?" He whispered back.
He bites his lip and groans. "Baby, I've been needing you all day."
"Sit in my lap. I'll behave." He pats his thighs giving you an innocent smile.
You knew better, but move to sit on his lap anyway. Your skirt lifted and showed the lace of your panties to him as you sat down.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home. He promised.
Your eyes widened when you felt his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.
"Ya know what, since you've been teasing me, I think I'm gonna tease you." He said, lowly licking the shell of your ear. One of his large hands running up your thigh to cup your sex.
"B-but I'm not." You tried to defend yourself.
"You are, you know how I get when you wear this." He picks up the hem of your tennis skirt. You do know how he feels about the it. He bought the article of clothing for you for a reason. He never could keep his hands off you when you wore it.
Eddie couldn't keep his hands off you, period, but the skirt wasn't helping.
The ads were still playing over the radio when Eddie suggested for you to announce the next song coming up after his brief segment.
"Wait, I have a much better idea." Eddie leaned to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper of jeans down. "Lift up for sec."
You lean forward to lift up off his lap. Your ass is almost on full display. The only thing keeping you from him was the sheer material of your panties. You can hear him groan before running a finger along your covered slit. A wet patch already forming very noticeably. "I can't wait to get you home, but this will do for now."
He pulls his cock out from his pants stroking it before running his thumb over the leaking tip. He slaps and rubs it between your covered folds as you lean a little over his desk. He presses down on the head and hisses. You thought he was going to jerk off until he was back on the air, but you were dead wrong.
Eddie pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to him. He slaps his tip at your opening from behind, dipping it in ever so slightly before pulling it away. Your jaw dropping open when you felt his tip nudging in your entrance. Your palms sweating on top of his desk, as you're feeling him part you open. The head of his cock shining with your slick. You can hear him groaning again with frustration that he can't fuck you the way he wants. "Sit on it."
"Wh- now! Right now?" You panicked.
"People are listening, Eddie." You tried to argue, but he shook his head.
"So? That's never stopped you before." He had a point. A very good point. You don't even need to turn around to see the smug, expression on his face. "Come on baby, I just w'nna feel you."
"Okay." You spoke softly, giving in to him.
You help hold his length as he aligns himself up with your opening. You slowly sink down on his length, taking him all in a few inches at a time. You sit down fully on him. He feels so deep this way. Eddie grips your hips to hold you perfectly still. He leaned back in his chair to get relaxed as his segment was about to begin. His eyes are half lidded. Eddie's already struggling not to cum and you haven't even done anything yet. His cock nudging at that sweet spot on your walls. "Ooh!, c-can you just push up a little."
"I-i can't take staying so still...its-" You pleaded. You would do all the work yourself while he continues on with his show if meant you could feel his cock stroking your walls.
He cuts you off.
"Shh, no." He quietly told you, covering his mic up his mic as the show was now starting.
"Alright, every b-body." Eddie tried reading his introductions but stumbled over his words when you purposely clench around his cock.
He shot you a look from behind. You were definitely going to pay for that one. You fidget in his lap, rocking your hips from side to side.
"If you don't keep still I'm gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you live on air." He warned, and you stopped moving straight away.
Was he serious? He couldn't be. You thought to yourself, but if you only saw his face right now, you'd know he was being dead serious.
He cleared his throat. "Alright, everybody, before we get started, my lovely girlfriend here is gonna announce the next song."
"Aren't ya." He thrusts up hard with no warning, making you gasp in the mic. His cock nestled so deep within you. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning out loud.
"Mmhmm y-yep." You knew these next couple of minutes were going to be torture. Absolute torture for you.
You take a long, deep breath.
"The next song....up...is Man in a box." Your voice shakey. Your hands squeeze Eddie's thighs. He's grinding you in his hips and bucking up. You bite back another moan, trying to escape your lips.
"Ah, no honey, that's not the right song. we just heard that one." Eddie's mocking you now. He knows how hard it is for you to keep quiet, and he's doing everything in his power to get you to break.
"Baby, you're being too obvious they're gonna know." Eddie thrusts his hips harder, shaking the desk. A soft moan escapes your lips. You try to play it off and clear your throat. You can feel Eddie laughing behind you. His chest vibrated as he watched with amusement.
You're trying to so hard not make anything noticeable. The people listening have probably caught on by now, you're sure of it.
He leans forward to show you were to read.
"Here, baby." He pointed on the script laying in front of you.
"O-oh, right, my mistake." You swallow hard.
His cock hitting a new angle every time he bucks up. Your head felt dizzy. Your slick making a mess of him and you. You're getting so close to cuming. Your walls so sensitive as your boyfriends cock spreads you open.
You breathe out and read what's on the piece of paper in front of you.
"Focus." He whispered at you.
You nodded rapidly.
"The next song is by the band The Pixies called Here c-comes your man." You squealed that part out when Eddie's hand lifted up your ass and slammed you back down. He smashed his face in your back to cover up any grunts he might make.
He squirms around his chair, holding you tightly to his lap. He lifts you off him the moment he felt your pussy flutter on his thick cock. He knows he wont be able to resist fucking you. Eddie most definitely knows you won't be able to keep quiet much longer either. You whimpered, feeling empty. You were so close, and he didn't let you finish.
"Be a good girl and I'll let you cum later." Eddie struggles to tuck his cock back in his pants with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. There's an aching throb between your legs.
"Promise?" You sit back next him in your chair. Disappointment written all over your face.
"I promise." He pouted right back at you, sticking out his bottom lip.
There were many times Eddie did those things with you live on his show. One time you both almost got caught right in the middle of fucking when his boss was paying a visit. The room was a mess where he slung everything off his desk to lay you on top of it. The other time was when you accidentally hit the unmute button on his mic, and for about five minutes, Eddie's listeners got to hear you both going at it on his desk. The equipment rattling and wood creaking. You begging him to go faster. The sound of his hand slapping your ass from behind.
Yes, he was almost fired from there, too, but he got them more media attention, so he got stayed. His show became number one locally, and then a few years later, Nation Wide.
Eddie would interview big names he used to only dream about. From Ozzy to James Hetfield and so on. He had a personal feud with Howard Stern when Eddie called him out on his show. He absolutely loathed that man.
You and Eddie stayed together throughout it all and even moved in with one another after your graduation. You still worked as his assistant in his now much bigger studio. Everything was going very well for the two of you so far, and you can't wait to see what else the future holds.
2K notes · View notes
violetarks · 8 months
Text
bump into things, like someone in love!
anime: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru
summary: shoko and geto have noticed that gojo has become more... clumsy around one of the underclassman, and take it into their own hands to solve that problem.
warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, y/n is a bit oblivious lmao
shoko lights her cigarette, eyes on her best friends playing basketball on their break. satoru's glasses lay on her nose, suguru's jacket next to her. suguru was currently up five points, but satoru was slowly closing in. they only had a few more minutes until their break ended and they would have to go to class, and satoru was dead set on winning.
after a successful lay-up, satoru begins to whistle, "ya' losin' it, suguru!"
suguru passes the ball to satoru passed the three-point line, rolling his eyes. "you're just lucky, satoru." he huffs out, smiling.
"good job, satoru!" shoko lazily calls, grinning at his boosted ego.
satoru dribbles the ball a few times, now only three points away. as the two play around, you walk up to shoko on the bench, carrying your weapon's case, greeting your friend, "good morning, shoko. what's up?"
she glances over to you, smile on her face again. "hey, y/n. nothin', just watching them play. you got training soon?"
"yeah, yaga asked see yuu, kento and i on the field. he wants to see how we've been progressing." you say, fixing your collar. you glance towards the boys. "they're pretty good, huh?"
she nods her head, taking the cigarette out of her mouth to blow smoke away from you. she then calls out, leg over her knee, "suguru, satoru! look who's here!"
suguru turns to you briefly, sporting his calming nature and smiling gently. "morning, y/n!" he calls, turning his attention back to satoru, who's turning his head hastily to you.
"hey..." he mumbles, giving suguru the chance to steal the ball and shoot a three, effectively winning the game. satoru glares at his best friend. "hey! cheap shot!"
"pay attention next time, satoru." suguru jokes, catching the ball as the bell rings. he collects himself, walking towards shoko and you. satoru dejectedly follows after, crossed arms.
shoko tosses the boys their things before standing up. you hum out, jutting a thumb to the field as satoru and suguru came closer, "actually, principal yaga asked me to bring you guys. somethin' about an examination?"
"oh right, thanks." suguru says, feeling satoru standing behind him, watching from over his shoulder. he steps to the side, raising a brow. "what are you doing?"
"n—nothin'..." satoru replies, hands in his pockets as he looks away, sunglasses over his eyes. "hey, uh, y/n, how was your break?"
you blink at him, offering your kindest smile that makes his heart pound. "it was good, i spent the whole time dragging kento with yuu and i around for lunch." you say, shrugging your shoulders, "thanks for asking, satoru."
"yeah." he replies, clearing his throat.
shoko amd you begin to walk towards the field, where both nanami and haibara are waiting with their weapons. yaga stood by, talking to them. meanwhile, suguru squints at his best friend.
"what's up with you?" he whispers out, elbowing satoru, "you're acting weird."
"no i'm not." satoru scoffs, rolling his eyes. he tries to look away all nonchalant, but fails.
"is it y/n?" suguru asks, watching how you and shoko talk amongst each other. satoru watches as well. "did you do something to her?"
"you think i did somethin'?" satoru gasps in disbelief. suguru smiles. "why is that your first guess?"
"oi, y/n!" suguru calls, making satoru punch his shoulder harshly. you turn to them. "did satoru do something to upset you?"
satoru wants to destroy suguru after he says that, feeling as if his world is coming crashing down. you raise a brow and shake your head slowly, unsure of why he was asking.
"'course not." you reply, falling into step beside satoru. shoko taps her cigarette as suguru nudges her elbow. "why do you ask?"
"satoru acting strange to you?" he goes on.
"well, he did smash the flower pot yuu gave me when he walked me to my dorm." you explain, "but its fine, i ended up getting a new one."
satoru cringes at the memory of last week, and how you looked upset at the plant you were growing. he hastily bought you more seeds and you accepted them gracefully.
"is that so?" suguru mumbles out quietly, side-eying his best friend. satoru looks at the ground.
it isn't long until you reach your destination and the lesson starts. when it's your turn to go up against nanami, satoru watches you intensely. he watches your every move, and how you maneuver around the field with your weapon. you and nanami are evenly matched at this point, just as you both are with haibara.
"what do you think of the them?" yaga asks his older students.
"they're so cute." shoko chuckles, watching how haibara cheers the both of you on from the sidelines.
"they'll start going on solo missions soon." suguru states, leaning back as he sits down on the step. he glances at satoru. "you're invested."
"yeah? so what?" the white-haired male scoffs, crossing his arms, "i'm just watching."
"watching y/n?" suguru giggles under his breath.
"i am not watching y/n!"
he says that a little too loud. so loud that you instinctively turn to look at them as your name is called, and nanami sees his opening.
the match ends with him getting the slip on you after that.
you sulk back to the seats with your opponent in front of you. satoru blinks and stands up, jogging to meet you halfway.
"y/n! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to, uh, distract you..." he tells you, waving his handswith his apology. you look back at him, pout still on your lips. he falters, dropping his hands. "you... were still great out there."
"ah, thanks, satoru." you sigh, rubbing your shoulder as you sit down beside him with suguru on his other side.
satoru is kicking himself for making you lose your match, but suguru can't help buck snicker at it.
later, class has ended and its time for missions. everyone gathers in one of the classrooms, yaga standing at the front.
"suguru and nanami." he reads out, "you two are heading to a construction site in the south. take these reports and head off as soon as possible."
nanami takes them from the teacher's hands and shows suguru. the older boy reads it, eyes suddenly looking towards his best friend.
"good luck on your mission, satoru!" he chimes, smirking at satoru's red face. his friend flips him off in return.
nanami follows after geto shortly, leaving the room.
yaga clears his throat, "haibara, you'll be visiting the kyoto school to check in with the teachers there. they've requested the help of our school to deal with some missing cursed weapons."
haibara nods his head, fixing his uniform as he stands up.
"take l/n with you." yaga adds on.
you stand up as well, smiling at haibara and reading the report together. satoru blinks, watching as haibara nudges against you to get closer, letting you see the papers easier. he clicks his tongue. 'bad luck...'
"shoko, satoru. you'll be going to visit a high school south of here. suspected of harbouring grade 1 curses and holding some students hostage." yaga explains, but satoru keeps looking at you, "we don't known how many have been injured. make haste."
satoru makes his way to the exit when shoko holds up her hand. "actually, can i go with haibara? utahime and i have some things to discuss." she explains.
yaga, not looking too bothered by the idea, responds, "that's fine by me. haibara and shoko go to kyoto, and l/n and satoru."
shoko sends a sly wink to her friend, making satoru look away with furrowed brows. those two were always scheming! but he couldn't help but feel grateful, now being able to sit beside you on the train.
"after this, do you want to get dinner?" you ask him, looking down at your phone. satoru blinks at you. "it shouldn't take long since you're here, right? so i say we go to that thai place shoko mentioned."
"you wanna go with me?" his voice cracks as he points at himself. he blinks behind his glasses and you chuckle, making his face burn with embarrassment.
"of course with you, satoru. shoko told me that you enjoyed that place, so we might as well go after we're done." you reply, tilting your head, "and you're my favourite senior, after all."
he swears he's unable to focus the rest of the day. he's sloppy when taking down that high-level curse, and you have to snap him out of it a few times by calling his name. hell, you saved him twice when he mindlessly attacking, his mind doing re-runs of you telling him he was your favourite senior.
"satoru!" you shout, deflecting an attack by the curse that was going to hit him, hard. you hold your weapon in one hand, and grasp satoru's uniform front with the other, keeping him from falling off the ledge. you turn your head back to him, breathless. "c'mon, man! focus!"
"ah, i'm... sorry." he says, tracing your features in the sunset, "right! i've got this!"
you pull him up and look over to the scared high school students you saved. they're on the football field, protected by your cursed technique from any fighting outside.
truthfully, you didn't understand why he was off his game today. you've seen him fight before, you've heard all the stories. the almighty gojo satoru. here he was, tripping over his feet.
you decide to talk to him about it after, when the mission is done and you've sent your report back to yaga through a jujutsu worker. at dinner, it's an all you can eat and you snd satoru reserve a booth for yourselves. you sit across from each other (satoru thinks that sitting next to you would cause his heart to burst).
"satoru..." you begin, looking down at your food. he glanced up from his. "do you have a problem with me?"
he stalls, tilting his head. the light above you both illuminates his blush. "no, why do you think that?"
"because suguru is right. you do act differently around me." you explain, "you're always nice to me, satoru. but if you don't like me, you can just say so."
satoru mentally curses at suguru. the guy was putting ideas in your head to get him to confess! how could he play so much with your (non-existent) relationship?
"no! no, i don't have any problem with you." he is quick to react, reaching out to place his hand gently on top of yours, "it's the opposite, y/n... i like you. a lot."
"yeah? that's a relief." you sigh out, smiling at him, "i thought that maybe—"
"y/n, i really like you." he states, gathering all the courage possible to express himself. you stop yourself, staring at him. "i have for a while now... and i promise i'm not making it up, i'm just really bad at saying what i want to say."
"satoru..." you say, feeling his hand shiver on top of yours. you smile, turning your palm and gently holding his hand. "it's okay, i understand. i like you too."
"y—yeah?" he mutters, unable to hide his smile.
"yeah. you're always kind to me. and you've always given me souveniers from your missions out of town." you explain, satoru's heart racing, "i know it's you who leaves them at my dorm."
he hides his face in his other hand, uncontrollable blush on his face. "ah, i knew i should've just told suguru to give 'em to you..." he groans, holding his head in now both of his hands on the table.
you chuckle, standing up and leaning forward, pushing his silky hair back and pressing a warm and gentle kiss to his forehead. he freezes once your pull away, looking back at you from the top of his glasses.
"you're sweet, satoru." you say, leaving to the cashier to pay for the both of you.
satoru leans his chin on his palm, his whole face burning. he'd have to thank his friends, they were helpful even though they were so so annoying.
and when he gets back to school, he does just that. he barges into suguru's room where he and shoko are playing on his gaming console, as its wednesday night and its tradition to go to his room to play a few rounds before they head to sleep.
"you two!" he shouts, pointing accusingly, "you two meddlers! you two... monsters!"
"i take it the date went well." suguru says, pausing the game.
"date! date! it was a date!" satoru claims, falling back onto the bed behind them. the two sit on their own bean bags, turning around to face him. he was blushing like crazy. "i can't believe you two set me up!"
"someone had to." shoko claims, putting out her cigarette, "god knows you weren't gonna do it yourself."
"so how did it go?" suguru asks, wanting to know all the details.
satoru tells them about the mission and the dinner and how the confession went. suguru gets a punch in the shoulder for his intrusion, and shoko gets a glare for mentioning the thai restaurant.
the way he smiles and stares at the ceiling as he speaks makes his friends grin as well. it was high time that he finally got with you.
"and i walked her to her room when we got home and i thanked her for dinner—"
"no way you let her pay when you've got ten thousand businesses—"
"and i kissed her 'goodnight' and she said she wanted to go out again, soon." satoru finishes off, a happy smile on his lips, "she's really amazing..."
"finally! make me your best man." suguru says, turning back to the game with shoko.
satoru chuckles, turning to watch the game they were playing after changing your contact name in his phone.
y/n 💙
so next week? that cat cafe close by?
he smiles.
satoru ♡
sure thing, pretty
nanmi and haibara can hear you squeal in your dorm.
2K notes · View notes
jellyfishbug · 1 month
Text
POP THE HOOD F'ME
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pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI. word count [5.2k]
content; mechanic!chris, flirty!chris, smoking (they share a cig), sex with a stranger ig? semi public, car head (m recieving), face fucking, big dick chris, reader has an eyebrow piercing, use of pet names, dirty talk, swearing
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Maybe it was just dumb luck.
My dad has been promising me that his old ford pickup was gonna be mine when I got my license since I was ten. However, not long after my sixteenth birthday, he randomly decided that his promise had conditions.
I had to fix it myself.
I had been putting off working on it for years. I just didn't have the time, and it needed a lot of work. The list of things to be fixed was long, and I knew if I started then, I wouldn't have finished.
Finally, the time presented itself for me to start. I finally had a summer that wasn't so busy, so I decided in May of this year I was finally going to do it.
I was finally going to get my own truck.
So I did; I worked on it for two long months. Two long months spent in the garage on my back under the heavy pickup with my hands covered in soot and oil whilst sweat dripped down my face. Two long months spent fixing the paint job and fiddling around under the hood, my hair tied back to keep it off my neck while the sun beamed through the opened garage door.
I finally felt confident enough to take it out for a test drive today. It was starting fine in the garage, and I'd driven it around the block a number of times without fail.
I excitedly hopped in the driver's seat and shut the heavy door, jamming my keys into the ignition and grinning at the sound of the roar when the engine started. I made it pretty much across town without a single problem, and I thought I was in the clear.
So, maybe it was just dumb luck when not even an hour later, here I am, standing on the side of the road next to said pickup with the hood popped and smoke coming out of the cabin.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was dumb luck when I realized I was only three blocks away from an auto shop, and a guy pulled over to help drag my car there.
It felt like forever when we finally reached the parking lot. The red and white sign that hung over the opened garage doors read 'sturniolo's auto-repair".
For the most part, the slots were empty, except for a 58' baby blue Impala that was suspended off the ground, and a brand new silver Subaru outback that sat right next to it.
As we finally pushed it into the open slot on the far end of the garage, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand and letting them both rest at my sides.
I thanked the stranger for his assistance and he wished me luck, mumbling about how much a repair on a truck like this was going to cost before wandering off. I scowled at him as soon as he turned away from me.
Walking away from the smokey and damaged shell of a car, I pushed open the clear glass door into the entry-way of the shop, and the sound of the ringing bells that were carefully tied at the top of the door filled my ears.
Near the desk stood two boys, both were brunettes that roughly stood at the same height. The first was wearing a red toyota nascar cap backwards over his brown hair, as well as a black tank top and a navy blue mechanic's suit that hugged his frame. The name patch on the chest of it read "Matt". He was speaking to another customer, flailing the rag around as he emphasized his points with his hands.
The other was standing behind the counter, a gray bandana tied around his head. He wore a navy blue button up that he left completely open with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, making the white tank top he wore under it visible.
The name patch on his chest read "Chris", and a white rag was thrown over his shoulder. A plethora of keys were hooked to a red carabiner that hung around the belt loop of his jeans. The desk hid his lower half below his waistline, and as I stepped closer, I saw a toothpick in between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he jotted down words on a yellow notepad with a pencil.
I slowly walked up to the desk, my arms at my sides. He didn't raise his head to look at me, he just continued writing, so I cleared my throat.
His head shot up, and his expression fell into embarrassment.
"Fuck- sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How long ‘v you been standing there?"
I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Not long, I just walked in."
A smile painted itself onto his face as he set the pencil down and put his hands in his pockets just far enough that his thumbs still stuck out. "What can i do for ya?" He asked kindly, the toothpick in his mouth moving as he spoke.
"My truck broke down three blocks ago and wouldn't start. I tried looking under the hood to see the problem, but it was smoking, so I pushed it here." I explained, my hands finding each other and clasping together at my front.
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Jesus, you wheeled it all the way here?" He asked, laughing breathily when I nodded my head in response. "Atta girl. What kind of truck is it?"
"A ford pickup," I responded all too quickly, my voice strained as I tried to ignore how my heart swelled in my chest from the impressed look on his face. He nodded as he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a ballpoint pen, picking up the notepad once again to start writing. "What year and license plate?"
"85', boston plate, the number is 289 BTO. " I watched as he wrote mindlessly, the handwriting barely coherent.
"'M kay, I'll take a look at it for you." he said, setting the notepad and pen back down on the counter. He opened his palm, gesturing for my keys, and I dropped them into his grasp. He hooked the ring that held them together around his index finger.
"Wait here, should only be a couple minutes."
I nodded as he circled around to the end of the desk, walking past me and pushing open the door to the garage.
His absence gave me a chance to examine the decor of the office space. Family and baby portraits crowded on top of the counter below the window behind the desk. A mickey mouse clock sat above the side door, and a large OPEN sign hung in the window.
The wall was crowded with plates and signs. One that caught my eye was an eagle with its claws digging into a hanging mirror, the name HARLEY DAVIDSON displayed in bright orange letters above the eagle's head. Next to the register was a small bell with a sign that said "ring for service" and the words 'don't actually' were scribbled in sharpie above.
Just when I was getting lost in thought, I heard the door bells jingle a second time, and Chris walked back in. The rag was now hanging loosely in his palm as he approached the counter. He stood right next to me, reaching over for the notepad and throwing the rag back over his now bare shoulder, which is when I realized he had discarded his button up. My eyes dart down to see the keys to my truck now hanging on a different belt loop on his jeans.
"From what I can see," he starts, popping the cap of the pen off and leaving it in between his teeth as he spoke. "It looks like a coolant leak. The combination from the antifreeze leaking and the heat of the engine is enough to make it smoke, but it's not enough to cause the engine freeze up." he explains, his eyes meeting mine every couple of words to make sure i understand. "So, it could also be a fuel pump problem combined with the leak."
I nodded, chewing my lip nervously as he went on to explain the time the repair would take as well as the cost. When the words, "not finished until at least tomorrow" left his lips, I huffed in defeat, and tried to make my disappointment less evident as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"How long have you had it?" He asked, now leaning against the counter next to us with one elbow, crossing one foot over the other.
"I've only started to work on it this summer, but it's been my dads since before i was born."
He nodded. "It's a pretty ride," he confessed. "I honestly expected it to look worse when you said 85', but the conditions not bad. You been workin' on it a lot?"
"As much as I can." I shrugged.
He complimented the paint job, to which i confessed i'd done it, and he gushed. "Christ, you should work here. Matt can't paint to save his life. You could probably get him out of a job,"
Matt sent a glare his way. "Shut up, kid. Dad would fire you over me any day, especially if you keep sleeping in."
Chris laughed, a genuine sound that made Matt's glare turn into a small smile before he went back to rifling through the file cabinet.
He turned back to me, pausing to look back over the notes he'd written down. "If i had to guess, I'd say we can probably have it to you by tomorrow evening." he said, looking away from the paper and averting his gaze to instead look me right in the eye. "That work for you?"
I nodded slowly. Suddenly, the issue of a ride home became extremely apparent, and an anxious feeling started to blossom in my chest.
"Good. Just one more thing. . ." he pauses to take the pen cap out of his mouth and place it back on the pen, tapping it against the curve of his hand and grinning wildly at me.
"i'm gonna need your number to let you know when its finished."
He's just asking because he's supposed to; because he literally has to in order for me to get my car back. But regardless, i felt heat rise to my cheeks as i started shifting uncomfortably in place.
"Right," I said, moving to reach for the pen. He points to a blank part of the notepad, tapping lightly to tell me where to write it.
Quickly and shakily, i write out the numbers with dashes. I hand it back to him, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He rips the sheet off the notepad in one swift motion and folds it in half, placing it in his back pocket.
He glances towards the clock. Its nearing seven. He turns back to me, "d'you have a ride home?"
My eyes went wide. I'm reminded of my attempt to call my dad three times when the truck initially broke down, and how my shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his voicemail playing repeatedly.
I glance back over to him, ". . . Not exactly. I'll probably just catch the bu-"
"I can drive you,"
I swallowed, my lips slightly parted in surprise. His grin was still wide, awaiting my response.
It was a sweet offer, really. But considering my house was across town, partnered with the fact that he was literally on the job, i shook my head. "That's really sweet, thank you, but I'm far. And you're working, anyway." He shrugs, glancing at the clock once more. "It's fine, Matt's on desk duty and he's closing tonight. I don't mind."
I chew my lip. I'd be stupid to pass up on a ride, but i barely know this kid, and if my dad sees me rolling up with him and no truck, it wouldn't look great.
And then I think about the hour long bus ride that would be in the near future if I declined.
I screw my eyes shut. "You know what? Why not."
Despite the scenario i was in, my mind was pushing out any and all nerves as I watched Chris collect his things from behind the desk. He pulled his wallet, shop keys and jacket out of a cubby.
The two of us walked back into the garage and over to Matt, who was washing his hands in a sink bellow the tool shelves.
Chris bid goodbye to his brother, who looked at the clock and then frowned, turning the faucet off and reaching for the roll of papers towels.
"You're seriously slacking off? I already covered for you and Nate leaving early last weekend." He complained, discarding the wad of paper towels he'd used to dry his hands into the trash bin below.
Chris shot him a look. "And then i covered your sunday morning shift because you were hungover. You owe me."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put your tools away when you open tomorrow. It drives me fucking insane when you leave them everywhere."
Chris salutes. "Roger that." He turned to me and winked, gesturing to follow him through the garage with a tilt of his head.
I followed behind him as he went out a different exit; this one leading to a parking lot on the back of the building. A large EMPLOYEE PARKING sign hung on the fence near the driveway.
He fiddled with the many keys on his carabiner before finally finding his and walking towards a car near the opening in the gate.
A blue, four-seater, convertible 65' mustang. The light from the setting sun literally reflected off of it. He mindlessly stuck the key into the passenger side door, twisting and pulling it open with a faint click.
He gestured his hand towards the seat playfully, "Ladies first."
I rolled my eyes, placing one foot on the floor of the car and ducking my head to sit down. "How gentlemanly of you,"
He grinned at me, closing the door and walking around the back of the car before popping into the driver's seat.
"This is.. wow." I mutter, admiring the small details and cleanliness of the car as he closed his door and threw his belongings in the back. "Jesus, this is yours?"
He smiled proudly, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip. "All mine,"
His fingers twisted the key into the ignition and the roar of the engine made the car buzz against my feet. He rolled both of our windows down, the summer air blowing smoothly through the car.
His smile was wider and prouder than ever as he glanced into the rear view mirror, throwing an arm over the back of my seat to glance behind him as he reversed. We pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road, Chris letting the steering wheel slide back into place under his palm by itself once he'd done so.
"You said you were far," he mumbled. "What area are you in?"
The question pulled me back into reality. I'd gotten so distracted by the way he drove so carelessly, like he was completely relaxed and in control of everything movement the car made, like fear didn't even exist to him as he pressed harder onto the gas pedal with his foot, my eyes choosing to ignore the way the tic on the speed meter start to spike.
His jawline was illuminated in the dim light, and the toothpick that was still resting on his lips stayed moving as he spoke gently, waiting patiently for me to answer.
I started giving him directions, and he listened carefully and intently, glancing over to look at me to make sure he understood my instructions. Once we were on the freeway, he went even faster, lane switching if someone in front of him wasn't going as fast as he'd like them to.
Soft giggles left me as he did, basking in the view of his lips parted into a smile, showcasing pearly teeth between pink lips.
Once he pulled onto the off ramp and we were stopped at a red light, he turned to look at me again, the bright red turning the car a faint shade of crimson.
"What time do you need to be back?"
He asked with a tone of voice he hadn't used till now. The sudden lowness caught me off guard as I shrugged, "'Dunno, not for a while."
He hummed in acknowledgement. "You wanna stay on the road for a bit?"
I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against the headrest, a careless smile on my face. "Definitely."
And we did; we ended up back on the highway pretty quickly, blasting music through a speaker Chris had propped against the dashboard.
His speed only got higher and higher as time went on, carelessly resting one hand on the wheel whilst the other gripped the gear shift. At some point, his hand had mindlessly traveled to rest on my upper bare thigh below the hem of my shorts, cold and partially ringed fingers pressing against my skin.
"Will you do me a favor?"
I raised my eyebrows and hummed in response. He gestured towards the glove box. "Theres a pack of camel blue 99s in the glove box, would you grab em for me?"
I bit my lip. "Depends, you sharing?"
"Duh."
I leaned forward, feeling my stomach flip when his hand didn't much as move an inch on my thigh, brushing against my lower stomach as I lurched forward to fiddle with the glovebox.
I propped it open and grabbed the pack and paused, "d'you have a light?"
He nodded. "Should be one in there."
I learned more forward and reached farther back, glancing around before locking my eyes on a silver flip top lighter and grabbing it. Once i lean back up, Chris is pulling into an empty lot. His hand leaves my leg to push the gear into park, and i try not to frown.
I flick the top of the cig carton open and hastily pull one out, dropping it into Chris's palm.
He places it hazardly between his lips and turns to face me, silently asking for me to light it.
I pop the lid of the zippo open and hold the flam to the end of his cig, waiting to pull away until his expression signifies that its lit enough. His expression relaxes as he breathes in before pulling it away from his mouth with two fingers and exhaling, the smoke filling the car.
"If I'm honest, I prefer marlboro reds." I say quietly in an attempt to break the silence, watching Chris flick the ash out the window lazily with his thumb and index finger. He shakes his head. "Camels are undeniably better."
I laugh lightly and raise my eyebrows in amusement. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."
He takes another drag before holding it in between his fingers in front of my face, and Instead of reaching for it, I place my lips around the filter while it's still in his hand. Our eyes lock while I breath in sharper, the cool feel of the smoke filling my chest.
He licks his lips, and for a moment, his eyes dart down to look at mine, and he's starts he's studying my face. I'm doing the same.
His eyes are bright blue, surrounded by thick lashes, which are barely visible with stray pieces of his hair hanging down below the bandana on his head. Freckles lightly paint his noise, and his pink lips are slightly parted as his eyes scan my face.
"I like your piercing," he finally says, pressing his one hand to his eyebrow as if he had one himself. I breathe out the smoke i'd been holding in my lungs and smile at him. He's still looking at it as he speaks again, "Did it hurt?"
I shrug. "Not really," Because it didn't, but also because I'd feel like an idiot saying it did. "Just a pinch."
He nodded slowly. "Hm."
I take another hit from the cig which he's still holding up to my lips. Our faces are closer now. One of my elbows is resting on the center console as I look at him through my lashes.
"You should get one." I say.
He laughs, breathy and genuine. "Yeah? You think so?"
"Mhm," i reach my hand up to graze above his eye with two fingers. "It would look good on you." He watches my movements. "We'd match, too."
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, finally moving the cig back to his own lips and taking one more long drag before carelessly discarding it out the window.
All too quick, he's facing me again, and he leans even closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, and a part of me thinks he can hear it.
Before I can even blink, he places his fingers on my chin and tilts his head, smashing his lips against mine hard.
Its all teeth at first, clashing messily as his hand leaves my chin and rests as the base of my neck. My hands are on his face, my fingers messing with the curls at the back of his neck while he grins against my lips.
He lightly bites my bottom lip, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like cherry and camels, and I feel myself whimpering at the contact.
"Fuck," he mumbles into my mouth, and his tone is exasperated, partly because the console between us is making it harder for him to kiss me like he wants to, and partly because his attempts to pull me close enough for our chests to press together have been unsuccessful.
His hands reach down to tug at the belt loops of my shorts, trying to pull me onto his lap. I pull away for a second to push myself over the console, Chris's grip on my hips staying firm to assist me. I duck to avoid hitting my head on the roof of the car, and Chris giggles lowly.
I finally relax once I'm comfortable in his lap, straddling his legs below me. One of his hands is across my lower half, sliding his hand into my back pocket, and the other rests in the middle of my back, holding me in place.
We're kissing again, and this time it's more lips and tongue then teeth, but he's still lightly tugging at my lip.
I'm tugging at his hair as I push myself closer to his lower abdomen, pressing down, which elicits a groan from him. He pulls away from me, and I try to follow his lips with a whine, but he tugs at the back of my hair lightly so he can press kisses from my jaw down to my neck.
I'm already whimpering as soon as his teeth press against my throat, and he digs them deep, kissing the mark once he's satisfied with the shade of purple its turned before finding a different spot to do the same thing.
"Chris, fuck- please."
I can feel him below me, and it's making me crazy. He doesn't budge, even as I continue to whine breathlessly at him.
He only grins as he continues to nip at my skin, and i felt the smirk on his face against my throat. I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug as a silent plea. "What s' it, baby?"
Baby.
I practically keen at the nickname. He finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his previous spot on my neck. He grins proudly at the marks he's left before looking at me again.
"What d'you want?" his tone is cocky and assertive. His lips look red and bitten, and I start to feel embarrassed at the fact that we were sucking face so lewdly in a literal parking lot.
I want to squirm and writhe away under his gaze, but his knuckle tight grip on me won't let me. I fiddle with the neck of his shirt and avoid looking at him as i whisper, "I need you."
He grins madly. "How d'you need me, sweetheart?"
I lean forward and press my lips back against his, and he entertains for a little before tugging my hair lightly to pull me back. His fingers grip my chin, holding me in place to look at him.
"Tell me what you want."
I brush my hand against his belt buckle. "I wanna suck you off,"
It came out in a mumble, but he understood, nodding somewhat cockily with a shit-eating grin on his lips. A groan left him as he tugged me even closer so our chests were pressed together. "Yeah?"
I nod eagerly, another 'please' ready to escape my mouth as my impatience grows. He ducks his hand between the seat and the door to push it farther back, "On your knees, then."
I obliged immediately, sliding off his lap to rest on my knees below him. My elbows rest on either side of his legs as my hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his jeans and boxers.
He lifted his hips lightly to assist me. I pulled them down until they rested around his ankles, and I feel myself gawk.
He's big. Bigger then I expected.
A nervous feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach, but the way he's looking down at me through hazy vision makes it vanish even quicker, and I wrap my hands around his length.
"You okay?" He asks, moving his hand to rest on my cheek, his thumb soothingly pressed on my temple.
"No- yeah, i'm good." I breathe. I hover myself over him, finally taking him into my mouth. A string of curses leave him in a hushed breath, and his head moves to rest at the back of my head to coax me farther down.
I pull back slightly, wrapping my lips around his tip and sucking lightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly above me, and his labored breathing is music to my ears.
His cock is heavy on my tongue, and its addicting. I take him farther down my throat, hollowing my cheeks to fit as much of him as i can while my hand is in a fist around his base. I bob my head and twist my hand, looking up at him to see his flushed face as he pants.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." He babbles, a throaty moan leaving him when I twist my hand faster, swirling my tongue along his cock as my head rises and falls.
I hum around his dick at the compliment, the slight sting on my scalp from him pulling my hair only pushing me to do more. He pushes me down slightly, and i choke at the burn of his tip making contact with my uvula.
I moan loudly on him at the feeling, tears building in my eyes as the vibration from the noises i'm making cause him to throw his head back, a blissed out expression on his face. "Fuck, so good. Just like that, god."
Drool seeps from the corners of my mouth as I speed up all my movements. Chris is a breathy, moaning mess above me, watching me through lidded eyes as I glance up at him.
He moves his other hand to rest on the side of my face, grinning at my fucked out appearance. "Fucking filthy girl, aren't you, baby." He says through gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?"
I whine at him, furrowing my eyebrows in pleasure to say "yes', and watching as his eyes roll lightly back in his head when i start to suck lightly at his tip again.
My hand falls from his base to lay on his leg, the other holding the bottom of his shirt in my fist. I try to push my head farther down, whimpering faintly at the stretch.
Chris's hips jerk up lightly at the sensation, causing him to push himself down my throat until my lips hit the base. I start to choke, but I breathe heavily through my nose, screwing my eyes shut and hallowing my cheeks out to stop myself from pulling off.
"Fuck!" he grunts loudly, his grip on my hair turning animalistic. He mindlessly mutters out curses and praise as he pushes my head up and down with his hands, 'good girl', 'don't stop', 'takin' me so good, baby' 'just like that' . . .
My hands are resting completely at his sides as he guides my mouth on his cock, slightly bucking his hips to push himself as far as I can take him. His strokes turn sloppy, and I look up at him again to see him looking at me with a broken glance, bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck, gonna cum," he gasps.
I begin to swirl my tongue around him, moaning messily on him as if to say, 'in my mouth, please', but he's already reading my mind, digging his nails into my scalp as he spurts coats of white down my throat, an incoherent string of "fuck fuck fuck"'s spilling out of him. Im swallowing as quickly as i can.
I pull off of him with a lewd pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know i look completely ruined, but I'm still focused on catching my breath and looking at Chris's flushed pink face above me.
His hand rests on my face again, and his thumb soothingly rubs my cheek. "You okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his expression full of concern as he wipes the tears from under my eyes.
I smile, leaning into his touch. "I'm good, it was really good."
He nods, smiling dumbly. "Good."
He pulls his jeans and boxers back up, bucking his belt before pulling me off my knees and back onto his lap. He presses a soft, passionate kiss on my lips, and then trails kisses down the side of my face, pulling my hair back off my shoulders as we both catch our breath.
We're both startled by the loud ringing of my phone in the passenger seat. I reach over the console, sighing in relief when i flip it over and see my dad's name at the top of my screen.
I put the phone up to my ear, watching as Chris rubs circles into my side with his cold fingers.
"Hi," I breath out. I listen as my dad apologizes for not answering earlier. He tells me he heard my voicemail and asks if I'm okay. "M' fine, I just wheeled it to a shop a couple blocks over. I'm on the bus home now, should only be a bit."
Chris pouts at me, and i roll my eyes at him. My dad talks for a couple for seconds before hanging up, and i leave my phone in the drink compartment next to Chris's forgotten lighter.
"D'you need to get home?" He asked. I nodded, and he frowns. "I was gonna get you off in the backseat,"
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part two? :)
thank you for reading! reblogs are DEEPLY appreciated. I hope you enjoyed. links below !
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desideriumwriter · 29 days
Text
Metamorphosis | F.W. x Reader
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Summary: Fred has been acting differently since he got hurt during the War. You're not sure how many more of his outbursts you can handle.
CW: established relationship, mentions of a head injury, TBIs, migraines, blood, being cut from broken glass, yelling, arguing, crying, not proofread
WC: 4.3k
A/N: now this one is a rollercoaster
based off this request! | f.w. masterlist | navi
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Things had been difficult since May.
Voldemort was dead and the war was over. But everyone was dealing with the aftermath.
Things were quiet for a while, people were quiet. Distant but united at the same time. It took a few months for everyone to try and go back to normal.
Now it was November, and Fred was still dealing with the aftermath.
Of course, a head injury from being hit with a spell and a literal stone wall falling on him would have its long-term effects. You’d already read the list over who knows how many times.
Memory loss, light sensitivity, aggression, problems with multitasking, communication issues, irritability, mood swings, forgetfulness, etc. The list went on and on, you hated how long it was. 
You did research on it, listening to his doctors and picking up as many books you could find on head injuries or TBIs.
You even got your hands on some textbooks that muggle medical students used.
George and you took care of Fred after he came back to your shared space above the shop. He spent his first week after being discharged from the hospital at his mums, due to Mollys demands.
Things slowly went back to normal after a few months. Most things.
Shops reopened all along Diagon Alley, including the twins, people felt safe to go out and chat with each other again. 
Life went back to how it was before the war began.
The cold weather was getting harsher and so was Fred. 
You knew that the irritability and mood swings would come along with the injury. You just weren’t expecting it to be so constant.
Fred had his bad days and he had his better days. Today was one of those bad days.
You could tell he was really struggling remembering what was in stock and what needed to be made more of. You sat with him at the counter as he wrote down on a notepad what was needed. Taking notes was one of the things that helped him nowadays.
You saw him look up, the cogs attempting to turn in his head.
“Peruvian Darkness Powder.” You said softly, it was the next thing that needed to be restocked.
“Right. That. Thanks.” He muttered out, crouching over to write it down, his hand shaky and handwriting a bit wobbled.
Frustrated with his shaky hands, he threw the pen down, putting his head in his hands, rubbing his face.
“I just don’t get why it’s so hard. I feel like I can’t properly do anything.” He groaned, the annoyance clear in his voice.
“Fred, it's what the symptoms of a-”
“I know it’s a fucking brain injury. I’ve heard it enough goddamn times. You don’t need to spell it out for me.” Fred spat out, ripping his hand from yours and walking past you. That was the fourth time he snapped at you today.
After closing that night, you sat on the bench right outside the shop. Elbows resting on your knees with your head in your hands.
You were really trying here. Trying your best not to get mad at him, to yell and spit at him as he did you.
He was still your Fred that you loved. He was just a bit different now, and that was okay, he was still your Fred.
The door to the shop opened, the silly tune of the charmed bell playing as a tall figure stepped out. Fred stood to the side of you now, his frame blocked out the light shining on you from the street lamps. The only light now being from the inside of the shop, illuminating his and your face once you looked up.
You breathed in deep, closing your eyes for a second, trying to keep any tears from falling. The cold wind wasn’t helping.
“Hi.” He gave you a shamefaced smile.
George had definitely scolded him and told him to apologize once you went outside. It’s not the first time he’s made him do it in recent times.
“Hi.” You sighed.
“I’m- I didn’t mean to snap at you when you were trying to help me with what needed to be restocked, or when you offered to sort the mail.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling small. The feeling had become constant for him now.
“And before both of those, when you snapped at me in your office. Then in front of one of the cashiers.”
“I did?” He said softly, genuinely shocked. You nodded, brows knit together.
“Oh, I didn’t even realize. I don’t even remember that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so harsh.” Fred looked down, having the same expression as a kicked puppy.
“It’s okay, Fred. I know you don’t mean to.” You slowly nodded.
“I’m trying to not be so rude. I’m trying to be better, I promise.”
“I know, Fred. I know.” You sniffled.
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The doctors said practicing patterns would help with cognitive ability. Patterning. So stocking the purple and orange mystery boxes in a pattern would be Fred’s practice.
He began to practice different patterns:
Purple. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat.
Then moved onto a bit more strange ones:
Purple. Purple. Orange. Orange. Purple. Orange. Repeat. 
He was struggling a bit more than usual today, you watched as he did, and it broke your heart.
You sighed as you put your notepad away, pausing writing down the grocery list for now and making your way over to Fred.
You reached out, putting the next correctly colored box on the shelf for him. He grumbled out a ‘thanks’.
“I can do the rest for you. Go give your brain a break.” You breathed out a laugh, trying to be lighthearted as you picked up the large box filled with the remaining mystery boxes to be put away.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”  Fred mumbled out, paying you barely any mind.
“Fred, I can tell your stressed enough just let me-“
“Will you piss off? I said I've got it!” Fred didn’t mean to yell, especially in the middle of a busy store, he was just frustrated. 
Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and anger due to all the staring eyes of confused customers looking at the both of you.
“Fine, fucking do it yourself then.” You shoved the box into his hands. Walking off, pissed off as you threw off your hat onto the counter.
George murmured your name as you walked by, trying to put a hand on your shoulder, you shoved out his grasp.
You hid away in the back stockroom. George followed, entering a tiny bit after you.
You sat on a wooden box, leaned over with your head in your hands. 
“You know he doesn’t mean it. He got blasted pretty hard, it’s just one of the side effects.” George sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You were so tired of those two words. Side effects. Yes, of course you knew what the side effects and symptoms were, that they wouldn’t be pretty or easy. But you were just so sick of hearing it.
You shrugged, lifting your head up.
“He's frustrated. With himself.” George sat down next to you, intertwining his hands into a ball. “He always feels bad after he gets angry.”
“I know, and I’m trying my best to help him out but it’s like he never fucking wants it. He refuses.”
“He’s never liked help, always wanting to be so damn independent and stubborn.” George let out a weak chuckle and shook his head. “It took him five minutes to accept the money Harry gave us. Even after that he tried to tell Harry he’d give it back if he changed his mind.”
“I remember, I was there.” You smiled a bit to yourself at the memory, Fred was so adamant about Harry keeping the money, or at least most of it.
“Chocolate?” He pulled a small bar off one of the shelves, you shook your head. “It’ll make you feel better.” You persuaded, you let out an amused sigh and took it.
“You stole that line from Lupin.” Unwrapping it and biting off a small chunk.
“Yeah, but it works doesn’t it?” You let out a defeated nod and smile in response, taking another bite.
“He’s not gonna be like this forever. You know that. He’s gotten a lot better since May. Just, his moodiness will stick around for a little bit.”
“I know. I’m just so worried about him. I can’t help it.”
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George was at Angelinas for the night. It took him ten minutes to stop worrying and finally go, constantly reminding you if you needed his help with Fred, if Fred starts getting mean, to send him an owl and he’d come back immediately. You shooed him off and assured him Fred and you would be fine, that he should go have a worry-free night with Angelina.
It was going well, you watched a short movie and shared some snacks and cuddles on the couch. It was all going so nicely until you both decided to get changed and go to bed.
You slipped on a night shirt talking to Fred about the movie as he opened the top drawer on the wooden dresser. The one that creaked and occasionally jammed from time to time. 
Tonight was one of those times.
He pulled out a pair of pajama pants from the drawer, his eyebrows knitting together when he pushed the drawer and it barely moved. You looked over and frowned disappointedly.
“It’s stuck again.” You sighed, thinking out loud. 
“I know.” Fred muttered out under his breath, you didn’t catch it.
You watched as he repeatedly tried to push it, it wouldn’t budge.
“It’s just old, maybe tomorrow we could go window shopping for a new one?” You suggested sweetly as he didn’t respond, he just clenched his jaw as he continued trying to close it.
He used a terrifying amount of force as he slammed the drawer shut with one last push, causing the whole thing to ratter. The sudden movement and sound made you jump. You took a step back, Fred noticed. His expression faltered for a moment as his eyes scanned your body language.
“What, are you scared of me or something now?” He muttered, an attitude in his voice.
“No, I never said I was scared of you. You just…”
 “What? I’ve just what?” 
You were so sick of his attitude. You took in a deep breath before speaking.
“You’ve been acting up, you’ve been slamming doors, throwing things down when you’re frustrated, you yell more. At George and I especially. You’re unpredictable.” You let out quickly.
“Unpredictable? I have not been that bad. You’re dramatic.” Fred shot back, he was a bit hurt by your words, yet deep down he knew you were right. His actions had become surprising. But he was too damn stubborn and he was in the middle of a beginning argument, so he wouldn’t admit to it now.
“I’m not, you’re proving your point with how you’re being now. You’re being stubborn and defensive. You get angry and you yell at me. When I’m just trying to help! The doctors said-”
“I don’t give a shit what the fucking doctors told you! Or those stupid books you’ve been wasting your time on!” All this yelling hurt his head. But the words were spilling out his mouth like a waterfall of poison. 
“Have you considered your not being any help? If you really wanted to help you’d let me do shit myself instead of acting like I’m fucking stupid! You wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around me! You’d let me be instead of being a pounding in my head!” His chest heaved, his face slowly being filled with regret as he saw you. Taking a step back with the most painful stare at him, astonishment and hurt written all over your face.
He watched as you brought your arms up around you, holding yourself as if it was a way of shielding yourself from his words.
“Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice went soft. A small crack in your delivery of words as you rubbed your upper arm.
“No! Absolutely not! I just- I’m-” Here comes the sputtered out apologies, the regret filling him up immediately, you just shook your head.
“Forget it, I’m done with this conversation.” You barged out the room. That look never leaving your face, it will haunt him forever.
“Where are you going? I thought you were going to bed?” He called out as you went down the hallway.
“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” You shouted back, more of a loud mutter really. Fred said your name disappointedly, leaning against the bedroom door frame. You didn’t respond, you didn’t turn around, you made your way to the couch.
He didn’t run after and stop you. Knowing you’d give him the silent treatment and refuse to get in the same bed as him. For tonight only. Hopefully.
Though you tried to muffle and hide your sobs behind your hands, Fred could still hear it all the way from the bedroom. Those pained sharp breaths in that turned into wheezes, the little hiccups and whimpers of sadness you made when you breathed out were far too loud to be hidden.
You cried for two hours until you finally got a grip of yourself. Getting up and going down the hallway, not to get back in bed, but to see if Fred was.
You peeked your head in just enough to see his side of the bed, he was laying on his back peacefully, his eyes puffy. Had he been crying also?
He was relaxed now though, resting. At least he was getting some sleep. You quietly sneaked back to the living room. Lying back down on the couch and using a throw pillow for your head. 
You couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t keep your eyes shut, couldn’t stop thinking, you couldn’t sleep. You missed him, you really just wanted to be next to him.
By the time the clock ticked to 2AM, you got up, tiptoeing back into the bedroom. Sneaking to your side of the bed, so carefully pulling back the sheets. You moved so carefully, so lightly, so gently as if everything was made of fine china. 
You debated if you should snuggle up to Fred, not wanting to wake him. What if he got annoyed again? You really didn’t want to deal with another conflict.
You carefully scooted over to him anyways, testing your luck. You slowly wrapped your arm around his torso, ever so lightly laying your head on his chest. He began to move and your body immediately tensed up.
His arm hooked around you, circling your waist, the other arm reaching over, his hand softly placed on the side of your head. Your body went limp in happiness. You could start crying again from all the joy you felt in this moment.
This is how you knew Fred hadn’t become a whole other person than the one you knew before the accident. His hands on you, holding onto you so sweetly, just like he used to. There were still those little remnants of his true self hanging around. He was still Fred. He was still your Fred.
You woke up to an empty bed. The sunlight shining down on Freds side of the mattress.
You changed into more presentable clothes, hearing the chatter from downstairs and knowing the shop was open. 
Going downstairs, Fred was nowhere to be seen while George was moving around helping customers and constantly casting spells to organize things.
Owning a joke shop was absolutely not a one man job.
“Where’s Fred?” You asked, looking around as you approached the counter. George was stacking cards. 
“In his office. Another migraine.” He tucked in his lips, seemingly annoyed.
“Oh. Well, I’m gonna go out, probably window shop. Do you need anything?”
“Could you get some cabbage? And a few more quills and ink? We’re running low.” He said, swiveling his way out from behind the counter.
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You may have stayed out longer than you meant to.
Thinking you’d be back before five, you got home at nearly eight instead.
You did some looking around in local furniture shops, and you picked up what George asked for. You mostly just walked around the quieter streets, needing to get away from all the noise.
By the time you got back it was a bit dark outside and there was a closed sign on the shop door. You unlocked and locked it quickly, moving upstairs tiredly.
The living room light was turned off, the moonlight from outside being the only thing that made the room somewhat visible. Fred was sitting on the couch.
“Hey.” You spoke softly. 
“Hi.”
“Where’d George go?”
“He stopped by Angelina’s for dinner.” He said blankly. Everything felt so awkward.
“Oh. Have you eaten?” You asked as you set down the bags of supplies.
“Yeah, I had some leftovers.”
“Okay, well, what’re you doing in the dark? Get some light in here.” You giggled as you flipped up the light switch, overhead light brightening up the room.
Fred quickly scrunched his eyes closed with a pained expression, he put a hand up to shadow his face.
Fuck. Light sensitivity. He was already dealing with a migraine, that’s why he was in the dark, and you turning on the light made it much more intense.
“Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You blurted out as you hit the switch down, the room going darker again.
“Here, I’ll- I’ll get you a glass of water.” You sputtered out, running over to the kitchen sink and grabbing a glass, filling it up with cold water from the tap.
“No, you don’t have to.” Fred muttered out.
“Please, it’ll help. Just let me help.” You pleaded as you ran back over to the couch, sitting down and holding the glass towards him. He denied it again.
“Fred, just drink-“
“I told you! No!” He shouted, pushing your hand away.
The glass slipped out of your grasp. Hitting the floor and cracked into pieces, somewhere in the impact a small shard hit your lower leg. Nothing serious, it could be quickly closed up with a spell, but it was bleeding heavily already.
Fred realized what had happened once you felt the stung and winced, holding a hand over your small injury, crimson staining your hand and dripping onto your sock.
“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He panicked as he straightened up, patting his sides for his wand, he had left it in his office. He saw yours on the coffee table.
“Here, let me fix-” He reached one hand towards your wand, the other laying on your shoulder.
“Don’t. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” You said as you reached across, grabbing your wand and leaned your shoulder away from his touch.
His stomach twisted, the guilt was eating him up. He fidgeted with his fingers, not knowing what to do with his hands now that you refused his touch and his help.
You said a quick spell, the cut swiftly closing, skin looking unharmed and the only evidence of what happened being the remnants of drying blood on your leg and hand.
“I’m gonna go wash off my hands.” You said so quietly, almost a whisper. Fred stayed silent as he watched you get up and walk away, he wanted to cry.
You returned to the living room with a packed suitcase, quickly walking past Fred on the couch and to the chimney. His eyes stayed glued on you the entire time. You didn’t look at him.
“You’re leaving?” Freds brows knit together in a sad way, he sat up straight from his spot on the couch.
“Yeah. Not for long. I’ll be back.” You spoke, back facing him as you put down your small suitcase.
“Where?”
“A friends place. For a few days.” You didn’t tell him who, he would most likely send letters apologizing.
George was the one who suggested it surprisingly. Once he came home as you were washing off the blood, he told you to go take a few days to yourself.
“No offense to you, you’ve been doing great. But I’ve lived with him for nearly twenty-six years. I know how to deal with him when he’s mad.” He held your shoulders.
“I know how to deal with him too, you know.” 
“Of course I do. But I know you’re worn out as well. You need to take some care of yourself. Focus on you for a few days.” You really didn’t want to agree with George on that, it felt rude to do it. There was really no good way of saying he was wearing you down.
“I’m sorry.” Fred spoke out.
“I know, Fred.” You let out a heavy breath. “I’m not mad at you. I think we should take a break from each other.” You tried not to let your voice wobble.
“You don’t mean a break up, right?” He stood up from the couch.
“No. Of course not.” You finally turned around, looking at his gloomy face. “We just need to spend some time apart, just for a day or so. Okay?” You kept your voice soft and nurturing, hoping it would hide the way your own words were breaking your heart.
"Can I just get a hug before you leave? Please?" Fred took a few steps closer, his steps cautious. You closed your eyes and nodded.
You didn’t want to look at him for too long, both of your faces were threatening to deteriorate into tears, and you couldn’t stand to see it.
He pulled you into him nicely, hands slowly and carefully wrapping around you like you would crack if he moved the wrong way.
“I’m sorry I’m like this. I love you.” He said softly, sounding like it was a plea for you to stay.
“I know.” You mumbled into his chest.
Fred’s injury didn’t bother you. The forgetfulness of struggles with certain things didn’t bother you, you didn’t care if he struggled to keep track with things. 
It was just his anger. His outbursts. His shouting. That’s what bothered you, it was nothing like him. Sure, he’s definitely gotten moody or stubborn or annoyed before like during Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts or when a much needed shipment arrived late at the shop.
But you’ve rarely seen him truly mad, yell like he does now, the only time you can remember him like that is when he had to be held back from helping George and Harry beat up Malfoy after a match in his seventh year.
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“I still love him, of fucking course I do. But he’s changed so much. it’s like,” You stopped, clenching your jaw and trying your best trying to keep tears from returning. “It’s like sometimes I look at him, and he’s a ghost, he’s a completely different man I fell in love with all those years ago.”
“You’ve changed too.” Alicia commented, “You’re not as much of a hermit as you used to be.” She joked, poking you.
“Oh piss off.” You let out a breathy chuckle, face falling soon after. “I’m scared. What if he stays like this forever?” You whispered out, a small crack in your voice.
“He won’t. You told me already, there’s still that cheeky little Fred that you’ve always know still in him. He’s getting better day by day.” She tilted her head. “And fuck it. Even if he doesn’t, even if it takes a while, you gotta grow with him.” You looked at her, puzzled expression on your face.
“If you don’t grow with him, if you aren’t willing to go through that, then what in the hell are you doing?” She shrugged, laying back in her chair. “You’ve gone through these shitty times with him before, right? And you both made it through. What makes you worried you won’t be able to do it again?” 
Alicia was right. You’ve gone through rough patches with him and made it out just fine. Casual disagreements, arguments and fights, yet you always made up. Leaving those arguments in the past and loving each other in the present.
“You staying another night?” Alicia asked you, taking a sip from her glass.
“No, I think I’ll go back. I’ll send an owl and tell them before I go.”
Once the green flames subsided and you stepped out of the chimney, dusting off your clothes. Fred came running into the room, a bouquet of all the flowers in his hand.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Feeling alright today?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Are you?”
“Yeah.”
God, you hated the awkward tension in the air. It felt like this every time you had a conversation.
“That’s good. Uh, these are for you.” He stuck out the bouquet nervously, hand trembling. You put down your suitcase and stepped closer. A small noise of adoration left as you looked at the flowers, it was all your favorites.
“I may not be able to remember much. But I remembered these were always your favorite.” He let out an awkward laugh.
The last time you told him what flowers you liked was in year five. You took the bouquet from him with hesitant hands, surprised by the gift. Fred swallowed his anxiety before he began to speak again.
“I didn’t mean to be so rude. I just get so frustrated with myself, I don’t want to act like that anymore. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you, you didn’t deserve it.” He moved to cup his hands around your face, bringing your teary eyes to meet his.
“I promise you I’m going to be better. I swear on everything. I will be better.” He gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead, then pulled you into a hug. 
You held on tightly to his torso, turning the flowers away to keep them from being crushed.
“I love you.” You said into his sweater, tears beginning to fall.
“I love you too. So much.”
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tell me what you thought! <3
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hedgehog-moss · 5 months
Note
The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances
You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.
CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)
CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.
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DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.
LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)
The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.
DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.
IN CONCLUSION.
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