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rafecameronssl4t · 6 days ago

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Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

1K notes · View notes

letsbangts · 20 days ago

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ridin || jjk

⤷ summary: when the car ride has you both wildin

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 3.8k

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: smut, established relationship au

⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, pwp (seriously it's just straight SMUT)

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: car sex, dirty talk, fingering, teasing, kissing/making out, grinding, nipple sucking, spitting, oral (m. & f. receiving), manhandling, biting, spanking, big dick jk, soft dom jk, rough sex, unprotected sex (do better than them!), pet names, multiple orgasms, some choking, praising, a bit of degradation, crying, cream pie

↬ a/n: song inspiration 'ridin by jessie reyez ft lil wayne'. hope you enjoy & let me know what you think! xx angel ♡

masterlist

As you both make your way home, the night streets are relatively quiet; the scattered lights from the occasional passing vehicles, street lamps and the few establishments still open cast a soft glow around you two.

The excitement from your outing is still vibrating through the pair of you: with the windows rolled down, the wind blowing in your hair and music playing from the speakers, it is hard to be anything but happy right now. However, the atmosphere around you holds much more than just light-hearted fun—an intensity also surrounds you.

As the car halts at a red light, you glance at Jungkook and take him in with the dark attire that fits him perfectly, accentuating his toned figure and face with striking features that would drive anyone wild. He looks back at you, the glow from the dashboard illuminating his features, and you catch that familiar expression in his eyes. It's a look you recognize, one that you know mirrors your own. Both of you feel the same thing, desire for each other.

Giving him a smile that holds zero innocence, you put your hand to the side of your seat to pull the lever and lean it back. Jungkook smirks at you as his gaze moves downwards to watch your movements as you spread your black fishnet-covered legs causing your mini jean skirt to hike up just enough to flash your black thong.

He lets out an airy laugh through his nose, tongue running along the inside of his cheek. His gaze moves back up to meet yours just as the light changes to green.

"Greenlight.", you say with a mischievous smile.

Your boyfriend gets the hint right away. With a grin, Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road to continue the journey home. You feel his tatted hand come between your thighs, and you let him right in, spreading them even further.

Jungkook with a hand still on the wheel driving, uses the one occupied with you to trace along your clothed heat. He takes advantage of the access the holes in your tights give him, touching your clit with slow and gentle movements. With your hum of appreciation, he pushes your panties aside and runs his middle finger through your folds coated with arousal.

You let out a small sigh from the feeling, the reaction brings a throaty chuckle out of him as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes. The amount of wetness that has already accumulated from the pure lust oozing out of you for this man is almost embarrassing.

"So fucking wet from nothing, huh baby girl.", he snickers.

"Mmm Kook", you sigh.

Once his finger has gathered enough of the wetness he slides it right in, your walls enveloping it like they are welcoming him home. He starts moving his finger in a steady rhythm and you moan as you buck your hips up to enhance the pleasure, his palm hitting your clit with every pump. You tilt your head back against the headrest closing your eyes when you feel tension in your lower belly. Everything around you only intensifies the experience. Between the cool night air on your skin along with the warmth of Jungkook's hand on you and the soft music playing mixed with the wet sounds of Jungkook's finger pumping in and out of you, it all only makes the pleasure build up more.

Suddenly he pulls his finger out, your eyes snap open and your head whips over in his direction as your chest heaves up and down. You're about to ask what made him stop but he looks over at you and beats you to it:

"Redlight.", he says with a devilish smile and a glint in his eye.

He brings his glistening finger to his mouth sucking your slick off it while keeping eye contact with you. You scoff out a half-laugh of frustration from the sudden fall of the high he had you on.

"You're just a damn tease.", shaking your head and looking out the windshield.

"You can't be the only one having fun.", he laughs wickedly while looking straight ahead.

Fortunately, this light changes much faster, indicating go. He presses on the gas and your neediness picks up speed along with the car. You see he makes no move to resume his previous actions so you try pulling at his hand to bring it back but he resists and tsks at you.

You cross your arms over your chest, a pout forming and the unwanted emptiness makes you almost whine in protest. But then you notice him pulling over at the side of the road. The area is virtually empty, void of any sign of nightlife.

Jungkook cuts the engine and turns on the dome light. He unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches over to do the same for you. Then before you can react he grabs your chin pulls your face to his and kisses you. A soft moan leaves you as you feel his tongue graze against the seam of yours, biting into your lower lip then he tugs it before he pulls away. His eyes staring into yours and lips hovering as he whispers:

"No need to catch a little attitude. Now get in the back hmm.", with his thumb running along your bottom lip.

Your eyes sparkle as you quickly nod moving to do just what he said jumping over the centre console eagerly. Jungkook watches with amusement as he opens the door to join you in the backseat. As he steps out the front he shakes his head with a smile.

"Cute.", he mumbles to himself.

When he finally settles beside you, you practically jump him dragging him by his neck towards you crashing his lips on yours but before you both get carried away Jungkook breaks the kiss.

"One-sec baby."

You see him lean forward stretching over to the front of the car and reaching up to the dome light to turn it off. Grabbing onto his shoulder to stop him, he turns to you with a raised brow in question.

"Leave it on. I like to see you when I'm on top", you say.

Bringing him back in, both of you smiling into the kiss but as time goes on the kissing turns wet and sloppy, tongues swirling around one another. Losing track of how long you make out for you now feel so hot from the intimacy.

Your fingers tug his hair and he groans, pulling you onto his lap before he chases your lips once again. His hardness is poking you, but you can tell he’s not fully hard underneath his black jeans. The neediness from before returns between your legs for any touch, your body naturally starts shifting on his lap making a moan rumble in his chest. Once Jungkook feels you grinding, with your Levi skirt hiked up he slides his hands underneath it, pinching the band of your tights with his fingertips and then drawing it back to snap against your skin.

Your hands are all over his firm torso, moving underneath his shirt and he grabs your ass and squeezes encouraging you to keep grinding onto his clothed length. His hands run all over your back down to the hem of your hoodie gliding it up, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head, and tossing it onto the floor. He dives back into the frenzied makeout, his hands expertly unclipping your black bra and discards it as well. After a few more minutes of your tongues dancing together, he then grips your waist before he lightly pushes you back separating both of your lips, now swollen and glistening with mixed saliva.

Jungkook uses his strength to manoeuvre the two of you, having you lie down with him hovering over you with his knees between your legs. His head dives to your neck and he starts sucking.

“Oh, fuck.”, you curse, head leaning backwards with his lips on the new spot. He groans into the curve of your neck when your hands find their way under his shirt again, digging your nails into his shoulder blades.

He licks the skin of your neck before he goes back to sucking, skillfully twirling his tongue and making you gasp into the air. Lips journey down leaving a trail of markings from the side of your neck, down the front of your throat, and along your collarbone. Thick fingers go to the front of your crumpled skirt undoing the button and pulling the zipper down, while licking a final long strip, stopping just under your ear.

"I think it's about time we take this off.", he rasps into your ear.

You lift your hips to allow him to slide them down your legs, fishnet tights and underwear following right after with his quick hands, all joining your sweater on the floor. Jungkook pulls away, sitting back on his heels as he eyes your now completely bare sprawled-out figure, mouth parted and breathless.

"My pretty girl.", a fond smile on his face as he whispers with his rough hands gently caressing your inner thighs.

"No fair, why are you still dressed?", you whine with a grin reaching for the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and tugging at it. He chuckles as he removes it, then leans down and pecks your lips.

"You're so needy today," he runs his nose down your neck to your chest. Those doe eyes look up at you before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Arching your back, you gasp while he swirls his tongue against it. The other is occupied by his hand, moulding the soft flesh in his huge palm before pinching the nipple. He switches to give both the same treatment and releases them with a pop when he’s done.

"But don't worry babydoll, I'll take care of you."

He hovers over you again slowly making his way down to your stomach his locks tickling against your skin. His words make your heart flutter while his actions bring goosebumps to your skin.

Settling down between your legs he presses his lips against your hip bone and grabs the back of your knees pushing your legs up into your chest. Jungkook licks a long stripe over your folds and he spits onto your pussy before he starts kissing and sucking your lower lips.

“Oh, fuck, Kook.”, you breathe out, lifting off the seat.

He holds you down, making sure you don't wriggle away from the extreme pleasure before he enters you with his tongue. Gasping, you grip his hair tightly releasing a growl out of him. He repeats it all over again lick, kiss, then suck.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, drawing back and pushing his hair out of his face before grabbing your ankles and forcing your legs to stretch out spreading them as far as possible. The way he roughly moves your body around drives you insane. You have one foot resting on the top of the backseat and the other on top of the passenger seat as he pushes two fingers inside you. His tongue returns to your clit, and you moan at the feeling of his muscle playing with the sensitive nub, causing you to clench around his two digits.

“So tight.”, he comments as he starts pumping into your velvety walls.

“F-fuck, Kook, r-right there.”, you mewl out, eyes rolling back when he brushes that spot that makes your toes curl. Your hips start to rise to meet his motions.

“That’s it, baby. Use my fingers, make yourself cum.”, he suddenly speaks, voice breathless.

His encouragement makes you increase your speed as you continue fucking his peace sign, gaze roaming up the colourful intricate ink adorning his arm. You glance up to find Jungkook already looking at you and the eye contact is the final push you need, in a few seconds you're cumming with a silent scream, walls holding his fingers tightly.

“That’s it, sweetheart cum for me.”, he coaxes you through it.

He slowly pulls out his fingers when you’re done, eyes shut with chest heaving from the intense climax. A surprised squeal leaves your lips when he starts to lick you clean of your juices, ignoring your pleas of overstimulation. When he’s done, he pulls away with lips and chin glistening with evidence of your fierce orgasm that makes you bite your lip.

“You did great, baby. Fuck, I thought I was gonna cum in my pants.”, he praises.

You giggle at his remark, and the sound brings a smile to his face. Gazing at the bulge in his black pants, you sit up and push him back by his shoulders, making him sit down properly in the seat. As your hands move to his belt, you lick from the front of his throat to his jaw stopping just under his ear,

"Your turn baby.", you declare.

He bites onto his bottom lip when you unbuckle the belt, helping you slide down his jeans and remove them. Hooking your fingers under the hem of his black Calvin Klein boxers, he lifts himself enough to let you pull them off. His length slaps against his stomach, reddened head leaking precum. Your mouth salivating as you wrap your hand around him, and he sucks in a breath.

When your tongue meets the skin of his cock licking a long stripe from the base and making your way upwards to the tip, his mouth falls open.

“Shit—Fuck, Y/N.”, Jungkook doesn’t hide his moan.

You kiss the head humming against it, making your way down to lick his balls, slightly sucking them which makes him whimper. You take him into your mouth looking up, meeting Jungkook’s hooded eyes taking him deeper as you try to relax your throat. Your hands wrap around the rest that you can’t fit, slowly pumping him as you bob your head with hollowed cheeks. As you notice his eyes rolling back and thighs tensing you swipe your thumb across his slit, causing him to moan again even louder.

His hand comes to your hair, holding the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. He pushes up his hips, thrusting all of his length into your mouth. With each thrust, he goes deeper until he sets a good pace, his cock sliding in and out. He inhales, throwing his head back grunting when you run your tongue over his tip and suck him. His angelic and hot sounds cause you to moan around him, the vibration shooting straight through him. He grunts and starts to thrust faster. Trying to control your gag reflex with tears spilling down your cheeks, his hips stutter as you feel him throbbing inside of your mouth.

“Stop that's enough.”, he pulls you away by your hair, a strand of saliva connecting your lips and his glistening dick. Bringing you in for a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth and making you moan into his. His thumbs wipe at your tears before pulling away both breathing heavily, his hand smacks your ass cheek. With his cheeky grin, he urges you:

“Come ride me, princess.”

Scurrying to straddle him, you hover over him and let your legs rest against the side of his muscular thighs while grabbing his length. You smear the wetness between your legs against his cock to lube him up some more before you pump him a bit, watching a lustful glint in his eyes that are now slits.

“Baby”, he moans, hands gripping your waist, nails digging into your skin.

You position him against your entrance before you sink onto him, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure and stretch. He kisses you and lets his mouth stay on yours while he slowly fills you up. When he's all in you sit still for a moment savouring the feeling of him so deep inside of you. Jungkook also in no rush, kisses you slowly. It's sensual and passionate making your head spin and heart swell, feeling wonderful after all the teasing done tonight.

You circle your hips while kissing him and after a few minutes, you start to ride him beginning with a slow pace. He detaches from your lips as he leans his forehead against yours. He sits there, enjoying the way you move your hips.

"You look so fucking stunning like this.", he whispers up at you.

The sound of your thighs meeting paired with both your heavy pants is heard clear in the quiet night. You lean back, hands resting on his knees and you start to pick up the pace, he groans moving his hands to grip your ass, and he spreads your cheeks while his nails dig into your skin again. Jungkook starts to roll his hips into yours as he meets your thrusts, feet planted firmly on the floor sending another wave of pleasure through your body with different intensity.

"Oh my god, don't stop", you call out.

Things ultimately turn rough once he takes over the control as he grabs your hips letting out a grunt when he sets an almost animalistic pace. Looping your hand under his arms and gripping his shoulders, his balls smack against your ass. The sound echoing in the car is loud enough to be heard outside, but neither of you cares to stop.

“Fuck, so tight.”, he groans.

“Kook”, you whimper, mouth pressed against his shoulder with eyes screwed shut, as you feel another orgasm approaching and Jungkook notices. But he doesn’t stop, he keeps one hand on your hip continuing to hit your g-spot while bringing the other between your joint bodies to have his thumb draw circles on your clit. You gently bite onto Jungkook’s shoulder while he keeps fucking you, he grunts with your teeth digging into his skin. Your whole body shakes as pleasure washes you all over again bringing out the loudest moan with your second orgasm of the night.

His hands leave your hips and they wrap around your frame, running up and down your back soothingly. You peck his shoulder where you bit him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you let out a whimper and he chuckles darkly.

“We're not done yet, on all fours and ass up.”, he commands you with a slap on your ass.

You rise off him, leaving you empty and greedy for him all over again. Obeying him quickly, you get on all fours as he requested. You gasp when he presses your back down, cheek pressed against the seat as he lifts your ass even more, back arched ready for him. He palms your ass, grabbing the flesh into his huge hands while he enters you easily due to your previous climaxes. Once he bottoms out he doesn't move, thinking he's just giving you a moment to compose yourself, but as the seconds tick by he remains in you unmoving and you realize he's teasing again.

"No, baby.", you complain pushing back into him and shaking your hips a little.

Jugkook leans forward, one hand tugging your hair back holding you against his chest as his inked hand wraps around your neck pressing down.

“Are you being a needy slut for me?”, he rasps nibbling at your earlobe.

"Yes.", you shiver and nod while clenching around him.

"Oh, you like that yeah?"

He moves the hand around your neck up to your jaw gripping it and turning your face towards him, tips of your noses touching. His thumb parts your lips.

"Open.", he orders and you comply right away. He gathers spits and lets it drip into your mouth and you swallow it immediately.

"Mmm, good girl. Now tell me what you want?", he hums.

"M-more please.", knowing Jungkook loves when you beg.

"Hmm? More what?", he prods with his dick still deep inside you.

"More o-of you", you reply.

"You already have all of me, baby.", he snickers jerking his hips to mock you more and his tip hits that heavenly place.

"Please, fuck me Kook.", you gasp out with pleasure as tears gather in your eyes.

"Anything for my girl. Anything for you my love.", he vows before letting go of you to fall back onto all fours.

His hands go back to clutching your hips so tight that they’ll probably bruise but you don’t care. He jackhammers you from the beginning, strokes instantly go at a rough steady rhythm. The feeling of his rock-hard dick grazing your tightening walls is like heaven on earth. You chant out his name in a scream as you clench around him again, causing him to grunt in response.

"Holy shit, you're drenching my dick like a desperate whore. Taking me so easily, you're my filthy little bitch aren't you.", he moans.

His words are enough to shoot straight to your core because fuck, if Jungkook’s baritone voice isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever heard, you don’t know what is. His sweaty forehead drops against your bare shoulder, shallow and quick breaths meeting your skin as he moves his hands up to cup your breasts. The tension in your lower belly builds incessantly. Vision blurring a tear trickles down your cheek and then the coil snaps, the shockwaves of your orgasm have you falling apart once more.

"Oh Jungkook!", you wail.

Jungkook's thrusts get sloppier with each second, clenching around him, it takes a few more pumps before Jungkook completely halts his movements and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. He’s finally cumming with a growl, filling you with his seed and the feeling has you seeing stars. When he’s done, he sighs and moves his hands to your waist hugging you closer to him and giving your neck a peck.

The air in the car smells like a beautiful mix of Jungkook's Dior cologne and sweat. The two of you try to calm down taking a few more seconds of breathing in and out at a rapid pace before your breathing comes back to normal and he slowly lifts his head off you.

When he calms enough to pull out fully, he quickly gets off you and plops on the backseat. You flip yourself on your back, eyes focused on the car roof and legs stretching out over his own. Chest heaves with almost identical heavy breaths that sync with each other. He rubs your legs as he turns to you with exhausted eyes.

"You good?", he asks with a smug smirk with his head resting back against the headrest.

“Fuck yeah, that was amazing.”, you laugh breathlessly and he laughs along with you.

Sitting up and moving to his side he instantly wraps his arm around you and kisses your temple. You return the gesture with a kiss on his chest before resting your head.

“I could fall asleep like this.”, you murmur against his chest, cuddling into him even more.

A soft laugh leaves his mouth, his hand gently slapping your ass.

"No, you can't fall asleep here. Plus this was just round one, baby. Wait till we get home, I promise that you won't be getting any sleep with me."

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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

Text

in an arrow heart | s.r.

in which Spencer finds himself distracted by you during an otherwise routine outing to O'Keefe's

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: fingering, public-ish intimacy, they're in a locked bathroom, in a bar but doesn't mention alcohol, praise kink, softdom!spencer, oral fixation, teasing, lowkey pwp word count: 1.7k a/n: short and simple and just what the doctor ordered. i'm prescribing a spencer reid fingering fic.

The small circles that Spencer’s thumb rubs on your thigh are making your head go fuzzy. It’s the same sensation that you think you’d have if your head was being filled with helium, your head feels light and airy. His hand is splayed out on your thigh while your body is tucked in the corner of the booth, a wall on your other side, there’s no one to see your torture.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, your boyfriend watches Morgan as he tells the story of how exactly he managed to strike out at the bar. Spencer isn’t even looking at you as his hand moves, periodically squeezing your thigh.

You shift in the booth, lifting your thighs from the leather seat, ignoring the way your bare skin sticks as you try to pull the skirt of your dress down. “Are you okay?” Emily asks from across to booth, raising a defined brow at you curiously, “You look flushed.”

“Oh,” you respond, your face warming even more, “Do I?” You hum, giving Spencer a pointed look before answering Emily’s question, “I’m fine. It’s warm in here.”

Emily frowns in response, but JJ nods in agreement next to her, so she seemingly drops the line of questioning. The silence enables Spencer to lift your dress and place his palm back on your inner thigh, the warmth of his skin searing your own. This time, he spares a look down at you, and you nod softly in response.

If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do was let him know.

Spencer doesn’t move his hand any further up than your mid-thigh, the fabric of your dress half covering his hand as he continues to tease.

It’s not until you have to cover up a whimper with a cough that you try to excuse yourself to the bathroom, having Spencer get out of the booth seat so that you can walk to the back of the bar, turning the corner into the restroom.

You’re not sure what your plan is now, shaking out your hands with nervous energy as you pace around the dark blue-tiled bathroom. You yelp when the door swings open, covering your chest with your hand as if it could slow the pounding of your heart as Spencer sneaks into the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him before cupping your chin with his hands and bringing your lips to his, the kisses are almost heart-wrenchingly soft until they ease into the world of desperation.

It appears as though a week and a half away from you was more than Spencer could handle, the way he gently pushes you toward the wall makes it that much more obvious as you sling your arms around his shoulders and kiss him back. Interrupted only by you shrieking when one of you sets off the automatic hand dryer.

Your surprise morphs into laughter when you realize what the noise is, giggling up at Spencer, you ruffle his hair affectionately, “Hi.”

“Hey,” he says, dropping another kiss to your lips.

Letting your hands drop to your sides, you hum into the kiss, “What did the team think about you following me into the bathroom?”

Spencer shrugs in response, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, “Emily’s convinced you were going in here to throw up, she’s the one who insisted I go.”

You gasp slightly when his hand moves up to your breast, “Do I look like I’m going to throw up?”

“You look beautiful,” Spencer says, skimming his palms down the soft cotton of your sundress, lifting the fabric, and letting it flutter back down to your thigh. “I missed you,” he murmurs, resting his hand on the crook of your shoulder and kissing you, soft, open-mouthed kisses that function solely to leave you wanting more as his other hand ghosts over your body.

You sigh contently against his mouth, a gentle moan escaping your lips when he slips his tongue into your mouth, swiping it along your lower lip. “I missed you,” you repeat in kind, “Ten days is too long.”

It was a non-complaint, really, something you’d bemoan over while his mouth was pressed against yours, but nothing you’d ever hold against him. Besides, time apart just made the reunion that much better.

“Spence,” you whisper, knowing he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to cue him into what you want. “Will you touch me?”

He smiles against your lips, nodding softly as his hand lifts the skirt of your dress, his fingers tentatively hovering over your panties. “What made you so needy?”

You roll your eyes, peering up at him through your mascara-covered eyelashes, “Asshole,” you breathe, your chest deflating when he cups your cloth-covered core.

“Ah,” he says, “Strong words from someone who wants something from me,” he says, his eyes flashing deviously at you, gold shimmering under the warm light of the bar bathroom.

He increases the pressure of his hand and you moan in response, but you try to cover it up with speaking up, “I have fingers of my own,” you retort.

Pulling his hand back, you try not to pout at the loss while he smirks at you, “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Unfortunately, he was right, but you could use that to your advantage, raising your eyebrows, you hum curiously, “Why don’t you show me then?”

If there was one thing Spencer could never turn down, it’s a challenge, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties and swipes a finger through your folds, his other hand coming up to push your shoulder to the wall so that your legs don’t have a chance to give out from under you. “I can tell you missed me,” he whispers gently, his tone almost a coo in your ear as you nod helplessly. “All this from just one touch of the thigh,” he continues, spreading your slick over your cunt with his fingers.

A soft whimper escapes your lips when Spencer’s index finger firmly presses to your clit, the gentle pressure bringing that airy feeling back to your head. One touch might’ve been an understatement, but you’re in no position to correct him. “Spence,” you sigh his name.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he says, rewarding your speech by slipping a finger gently into your throbbing pussy. The digit slowly swirls around your wet hole before withdrawing and moving back in with a second finger.

The stretch of your cunt makes your breath hitch, your head dropping to Spencer’s shoulder so you can use the fabric of his dress shirt to muffle your moans. The tile in the bathroom only bounces the strained noises from you and the wet squelching caused by Spencer’s fingers fucking into you.

As his middle and ring finger continue thrusting, Spencer cranes his neck so that he can press gentle kisses to the side of your neck. He nudges your head up so that he can use his spare hand to pull down the front of your dress, flipping over the cups of your bra so that he can massage your breast.

Your head spins while you feel him everywhere, “Oh, shit,” you gasp when he pushes his thumb against your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly buzzing with a pressure that you desperately needed to release.

Spencer hums, “My pretty girl,” the vibrations of his lips against your skin made your walls clench around his fingers. He was gently sucking at your chest, leaving little hickeys across the otherwise unmarred skin.

His thumb swipes over your clit, the movements perfectly timed with the thrusts of his hand.

“So good,” he praises you softly, “Letting me play with you in the bathroom, baby. You’re so fucking pretty when you need me,” he says, unrelenting in his ministrations.

A low whine comes from your throat, and you nod, “Ah, Spence,” you whimper, tilting your head back as you gasp for air, the dizzy feeling in your head coming crashing down as you cum. His free hand covers your mouth, muffling your moans so that you don’t alert any passersby to what is happening in the bathroom.

Your legs shake beneath you as Spencer holds you up, his hand slowly withdrawing from your panties, and you respond exactly how he wants you to when he holds his fingers in front of your mouth, enveloping his third and fourth finger within your lips and gently sucking your own slick from his digits. He gingerly presses a kiss to your forehead before taking his hand back.

He crouches down to the floor, gently tugging at your underwear and sliding them down your legs, you step out of them, your face hot as you watch him fold the damp fabric and slip them in his back pocket.

Softly, he cups both of your cheeks with his hands, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the high points, “Are you alright?”

Taking your lip between your teeth, you nod a little dazedly, “I’m not feeling well,” you murmur, a sly smile growing on your face, “I think it’s time for us to head home.”

He washes his hands, muttering something about the efficiency of hand dryers before he opens the door to the bathroom, gesturing for you to walk out in front of him. His hand on your back guides you to the table.

“Hey,” JJ frowns, “Are you feeling alright? You look a little green,” she observes, watching Spencer as he gathers your things.

Shaking your head, you shrug, “Might’ve been something I ate, we’re gonna call it a night,” you explain to the rest of the group, not even evoking a suspicious look from them.

Emily nods in what she probably thinks is absolute understanding, “Let us know how you’re feeling in the morning. Garcia was talking about going to a farmers market.”

You glance over at Spencer, wondering if he already has plans for you tonight, but you nod anyway. Waving goodbye to everyone before your boyfriend nearly drags you out of the bar, ready to get home.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months ago

Text

the abandoned tie

a/n: this man... this man, this man. i've missed him so much. he has been on my mind all summer and now i finally snapped and wrote some yummy yum about him.

summary: It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

warnings: matt murdock x secretary!reader, smut, coworkers to lovers, kissing, office sex, clothed sex, ripping pantyhose, manhandling, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex, alcohol consumption, foggy slutshames matt (as he deserves. he a hoe and we love him for it)

word count: 4144

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Okay,” Foggy huffed out a long exhale, “I can’t look at this anymore, I’m going all cross-eyed,” he slammed shut the laptop on the conference table before him, “I gotta call it a night,” and as he raised from his seat, your head tilted up from the intimidating stack of paper your nose was buried in, “any of you up for a round at Josie’s?”

“Uhm, actually, I think I might stay here a little longer,” your thumb brushed against the corner of the pile before you, a mountain of perhaps the most boring paperwork you’d ever given your time of day, but the small chance that some tiny nugget hid in there, something that could help the firm on their current case, convinced you to volunteer to take on the job, “see if I can make a bit more of a dent in this.”

“Alright, fair,” your colleague eyed the papers, then shifted his glance to his partner, seated on the stool directly beside where you sat, “Matt? Come on, man. Don’t let your best friend drink alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he shifted slightly in his seat, then uttered in a tone that almost made it sound as if he was just making up his answer to match yours, “but I think I’m gonna keep going as well,” though the hope that he had changed his verdict to sync up with your own was a dream you’d never truly let yourself believe.

It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

“Workaholics the both of you!” Foggy groaned light-heartedly, conjuring an airy chuckle to bubble out of you, “well,” he puffed as he bent down to grab his bag and stuff his laptop inside, “then I guess I’ll just see you guys in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Matt flashed his friend a smile as he crossed the threshold of the door to the conference room.

Catching his eye through the windowed wall as he made his way out towards the exit, you waved, “night!” before he raised his hand to mirror your gesture.

After silence had consumed the office once more and your eyes returned to their tedious scanning, a yawn soon forced its way out of your lungs.

As your hand flew up to cup your mouth, Matt’s soaring fingers stilled over the braille on the pages before him and his head tilted up in your direction.

“You sure you’re not done for the day?” he quietly asked.

“No,” you uttered before the yawn was through, “I wanna stay.”

“Alright,” he breathed, “how about some coffee then?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can go make some–”

“No, no, stay, I didn’t mean for you to–�� I’ll make it.”

“Oh,” you blinked back at him, perhaps finding the role reversal a bit more staggering than you’d expected as you were usually the one making everyone else beverages, “y-yeah, that would be great,” before your gaze then shadowed him as he got up and crossed the small width of the humble office to the little kitchenette nook.

You should have probably just returned to your reading as he stood there and waited for the water in the electric kettle to boil, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

When he returned with a steaming mug, he held it out for you to grasp, “here you go,” before he returned to his seat beside your own.

“Thanks,” your fingers enveloped the warm ceramic before you took a small sip, one that was swiftly cut short as soon as the flavour enveloped your tongue, “wow…”

“What? Is it bad?”

“No, no, quite the opposite actually,” you glanced down at the coffee in amazement before your gaze flickered up to him, “it’s perfect,” you uttered, unsure if you were more shocked or just plain weak in the knees at the fact that Matt somehow knew how you took your coffee.

The evening however didn’t drag on for too much longer following the very last sip of your caffeinated beverage. You tried to return to your work, you truly did, but no matter how hard you tried to get back into the flow of things and make a proper dent in the colossal workload, you just couldn’t.

You were too occupied staring at Matt.

Gazing longingly at his burly forearms, exposed and framed by the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down, at his wide hands as they danced over the papers before him, nearly caressing them in the manner you always fantasised he would touch your goosebump-ridden flesh, and even at the slight furrow line that appeared betwixt his dark brows as his brain absorbed the texts he read, the little crease you so badly wished to soothe with a kiss.

As your eyes continued to linger and your heart thumped in your chest at the way your mind ran wild, Matt’s right hand then extended in search of one of the items on the cluttered table, though before his fingers located the wanted folder, they first wandered so close to you that they grazed against your forearm resting there on the surface.

Though the contact sent butterflies soaring throughout your stomach, the spark also managed to snap you out of your daze and jolt you back to your senses, though the realisation bolted through you so severely that in your haphazard and hazy attempt at both hiding any trace of what you’d let yourself do, as well as dive back into what you should have been doing all along, your clumsy ass twisted away in a manner that almost caused you to fall off your chair.

Almost.

You would have fallen face first on the cold office floor if a pair of swift hands hadn’t seized your waist.

“Wow–, I’ve got you.”

As your head tilted up, gratitude ready to drip off your tongue, it ceased and shrivelled as you realised just how close you now were to Matt. Your noses almost touched as his grasp didn’t move to unfasten their strong hold on you even though you were now completely out of danger.

“You’ve got–…” you echoed hazily, “I-I–…”

As his breath fanned across your face, your eyes flickered down to his lips. You’d never been this close to him before, but now that you were, impulsivity swiftly seized your soul.

Pressing your lips against his in a chased kiss, you soon sensed his grip shift as he kissed you back, his fingers gently digging into your sides to claw you even closer.

Though as you felt yourself melt away in the dream you’d always yearned for, a flash of sense sparked within you and caused you to plant your palms on his broad chest and push him back.

“Oh my goodness…” your shoulders shot up towards your ears, “I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t fire–”

But no more fretful words managed to leave your lips as Matt then primally grabbed your face and shut you up with a kiss, a taste of hast tingled on his tongue as he let his own desire take over and rush for more instead of other civilised methods one could opt for in such a situation, he didn’t stop to put out the fire, only fanned the wicked flames and kissed you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

It had caught you completely off guard and was only when he slowed his heated lips to smouldering pecks that you got the chance to catch up.

“Oh my god…” you whispered slowly between kisses, utterly stunned and reeling in the reality. Your tone at first came out a bit timid as you still couldn’t believe what was transpiring, but as soon as his lips began to wander down the side of your neck and your eyes fluttered at the dizzying sensation, you felt yourself melt into the moment and echo, “oh my god…” though now in a completely different manner, one that dripped with the desire that you evidently hadn’t been the only one to keep bottled up for so long.

As the lawyer soon rose from his seat, he dragged you up with him by the starved hold he had on your face, keeping you close and devouring your lips.

Your fingers found his dark tie for support, the fabric of which had already previously been loosened slightly by his own fingers when they long ago drifted up to pop open the very top button of his collar.

When his feet then shuffled and your backside bumped into the table’s edge, Matt’s palms coasted down your frame till they greedily swept over the pencil skirt you wore and cupped your ass, only letting himself cop a feel for a second before a small yelp bubbled out of you as he then lifted you up to sit on the conference table.

As your fingers then untangled themselves from the silk hanging around his neck and swept up to the sides of his face, your eager touch bumped into his tinted glasses, which you swiftly removed and cascaded to the messy tabletop beside you where you sat.

“Oh… Matt…” a small whimper rolled off your tongue as he then ducked down to plant sloppy pecks all along your neck, “please don’t stop…”

His low voice then vibrated against your rapid pulse, “yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” your head tilted slightly in a nod as your fingers stretched to weave in with his dark hair, “I–… I–…” you tried to fight through the foggy feeling he distilled in you, though ended up only offering him a short and desperate, “please.”

When you glanced down at him, fully expecting the lawyer’s lips to return to your own, you instead watched as they dipped down even lower, straying from your throat and wandering down to the sliver of skin on display in the neckline of your silky blouse. Your breathing was heavy as you watched your chest rise and fall beneath his hot pecks. Mouth agape, you stared intently as his kisses wandered even further south, his nose nuzzling against the soft material of your shirt as he dropped down to his knees.

Planting your palms on the surface of the table for support as you watched Matt crack open your pantyhose-clad legs, his lips then dipped down to one of them as he plucked it up to rest it upon his broad shoulder, all the while a series of kisses smothered the sheer nylon clinging to your skin.

Soon he had your skirt pushed up and bunched around your hips, fervently opening you up and peeling back your layers till he reached what he most desired. However when his touch finally did sweep up to graze against your covered centre, it didn’t continue on the journey up towards your waistband as you had assumed, but instead, his fingers pinched the sheer core of your stockings and tugged till a ripping sound rung out through the dark office.

“Fuck…” he groaned as he finished tearing the hole, nearly making it huge enough for the nylon to just give up completely and split right down the middle, that’s how little he let remain intact before he moved on and reached for the underwear now accessible to him.

His thumb stayed hooked in the soaked gusset of your underwear as he rushed to dive in for a taste of your divine. One of your hands shot down to gently grasp his hair as his tongue lavishly licked you up, making your whole body quiver from the way he made out with your cunt.

Scooping a palm up to cup your tit through your clothing, Matt groaned, “shit…” his fervent rumble vibrating against your puffy pearl before he sucked down on it, “you taste so good…”

As you swiftly felt his kisses push you over the edge, your hips began to rock back against his efforts, grinding your pussy against the lower part of his face as he lapped you up, his fingers too raising to dent your thigh, both to keep your leg draped over his shoulder, but also to keep you steady through all of your squirming as you rode out your high.

“Oh my–, fuck!” you gasped, catching your breath. Blinking down at him, you watched as he slowly rose back up, planting a few pecks in a sporadic pattern up your form till his lips again found your own. The taste of yourself was heavy on his tongue as you drifted a hand up to wipe your slickness from his stubbly chin.

“Miss Y/l/n,” he smirked as you tilted away from his kisses to clean him better, addressing you with the same formality he only occasionally still withheld for you during your working hours together, “whatever would I do without you?”

Still in your haze, you thought too hard about the flirty comment and instead turned it into some kind of unnecessary riddle, “well, first of all, you properly wouldn’t have the evidence of what you just did all over your face, and second, then I also wouldn’t even clean it up because it wouldn’t be there, because I wouldn’t be here, and–,” but then, he simply cut off your words, frankly, as well as your brain, and pressed his lips to yours.

“I fucking love how your mind works,” he grinned, a hand floating up to offer a feathery stroke through your hair.

“Oh, I–,” a shiver ran down your spine as you blinked back at him, “thank you.”

A gentle chuckle then rumbled in Matt’s chest as his fingers reached up to tug at his tie, “sweetheart, if you’re gonna thank me like that every time I pay you a compliment or talk dirty to you,” he yanked the loosened accessory over his head, “then I don’t know I’ll ever be able to stop,” and tossed the silky material to one of the dark corners of the dim room.

Tangling your arms around his neck, an amazed giggle bubbled out of you as you then settled on simply repeating, “thank you,” softly egging him on as your nose nudged against his own.

Groaning lowly, “you little minx…” a smile tugged at his lips as he then leaned in to claim your lips once more.

As he kissed you once again, your legs snaked around his form, dragging up against his sides like a cicada in his arms.

And when he soon shifted a bit before you and extended an arm to something on the table, you breathlessly asked as your fingers floated down to undo his belt, “do you have a–,” but then you twisted your neck to see what he conjured from his bag, “oh,” you glanced down at the small foil packet in his hand, “you do,” you let out a relieved exhale, “good, because I didn’t, so here I was scrambling my mind for what other options we had.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, the sudden presence of his hands working at freeing himself caused your own to retreat, “and what did you come up with?”

“Oh, well…” you swallowed, conjuring enough courage to utter, “we could just touch each other…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hazily nodded, “or I could repay you the favour.”

“Yeah?” his hard length sprang free, “you’d suck my cock?”

Scarcely breathing at all, you stared as he swiftly rolled on the condom, “more than you know…”

“But none of that’s what you really want right now, is it?”

As his hand snaked around your hip to scoop you that much closer to the edge, you foggily shook your head, “no…”

“Tell me what it is then,” he uttered as he rubbed the bulbous head of his dick through your folds, making you squirm from the dizzying sensation, “tell me what you want.”

Though the mission of getting words out and offering him an answer seemed more difficult than you anticipated as his tip nudged against your swollen clit and made it near impossible for you to think, “I–… you. I want you,” your arms draped around his neck he inched back in for a kiss, “I-I–, Matt, please just put it in–”

Answering your prayer, he then slid his cock inside, slowly filling your dripping pussy up till his pelves pressed against your puffy pearl and the tip of him kissed a spot so deep inside of you that you felt as if you could scarcely breathe at all.

“There you go,” his groan rumbled in your ear, “that what you wanted, huh?” though when you tried to respond, only whimpers flowed from your lips, “then be a good girl and thank me again,” he dared to request as he gently began to move, “tell me thank you for giving you exactly what you want,” and you moaned, eyes rolling at the way he dragged his girth out of you, so overwhelmingly slow that your cunt clenched around him so tightly that he had to carve anew when he finally thrust forward and filled you up once more, “come on, you can do it. Your pussy’s already doing it in her own incredible way.”

As his lips lowered to flutter against the side of your neck, you faintly murmured, “t-thank you–”

Though the cocky lawyer only bucked into you harder, making you tremble in his grasp as he smirked against your goosebump-ridden skin, “what was that?”

“Thank you, M-Matt!” you successfully squeaked.

“Atta girl,” his hand slid up the column of your neck as your head began to lull, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Uh-uh,” you hazily shook your head as you clung to his broad shoulders.

Lightly enveloping his fingers around your neck, just to keep you close, his other digits then reached down between your bodies to find your clit in a harsh rub as he dared to say, “then say it again…”

The words of gratitude then became like a mantra on your lips, incoherently flowing through your moans as he rocked into you so hard that the conference table rattled beneath you, fucking you till you both tumbled over the edge, though the simple phrase still kept rolling off your tongue even when he offered to walked you home afterwards and too when he pressed a soft peck to your forehead, whispering you goodnight before you disappeared inside your building.

The cups of coffee you had nervously bought the very next morning were quite the task to balance in your hands. It would have been strange if you didn’t buy one for all of your coworkers, even though the brew truthfully had ulterior motives.

It wasn’t just the regular kind and thoughtful round of coffee to start the day, but in truth was a thanks for the bang last night, oh, and by the way I am head over heels in love with you, I know I was too scared to tell you last night, but I’m terrified of fucking this up kind of coffee.

It was a lot of pressure to put on a simple cup of coffee, you recognised that, but what else were you to do?

Though when you managed to push open to door to the office without dropping or spilling any of the balanced paper mugs, Foggy was the first one to spot you.

“Oh, you bought coffee?” he grabbed one out of your arms, “thanks!” before he called over his shoulder, his voice flooding into the room to the left, “hey Matt! Y/n got a round of coffee!”

It hadn’t been the suave delivery you’d hoped for, having Foggy force the mood in a purely platonic and professional direction as Matt appeared and casually seized the cup his friend caught from you and extended to him, instead of the fantasy that had tickled your mind all morning of effortlessly slipping into his office and sliding it across his desk with some clever line you hadn’t been able to come up with yet.

Though Matthew still smiled and said as he raised the cup up to his lips, “thank you, Y/n,” and the mirroring echo of the words he’d made you repeat last night so many times that it lost all its meaning, caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Uhh,” you blinked back at him, trying to shake the memory off of you, “y-you’re welcome…”

However, before you could part your lips, ask your boss for a private moment and finally make your move, Foggy opened his mouth once more and spoke.

“Hey, remember how I put out feelers to Karen?” he began to saunter into the conference room.

As Matt began to follow his voice, you too shadowed them, all the while trying your best to keep the butterflies on your belly at bay as you returned to the scene of the crime, most of the papers on the table still in a mess from how little the pair of you had bothered to clean up afterwards.

“Yeah,” Matt tilted his head, “she got anything?”

“Yup,” Foggy took a sip of coffee, “called me this morning and said she’d pop by later with the stuff she–, hey,” his sentence then took a sharp turn as his gaze found something on the floor that puzzled him enough for his brows to crinkle up. Bending down, he picked up a silky string of fabric and wrapped it around his fingers, “Matt, did you forget your tie here?”

“Uh, what?” the man beside you stiffened up slightly.

“Your tie, this looks like the one you wore yesterday.”

“Oh, uhm, yeah,” he coughed, fidgeting lightly with the to-go cup in his grasp, “it just bothered me last night, so took it off, must have forgotten to put it in my bag.”

As Foggy’s eyes scanned Matt’s reaction and too let his gaze wash over your flustered form and spot how the truth virtually poured out of your pores from the way your eyes grew, he simply hummed, “…uh-huh…” not believing his pal for a second.

Sucking in a breath, Matt tried to extend his hand and asked, “can I have it back?” though his forced casual tone was utterly unconvincing.

“Oh my god…” Foggy sighed before tossing the tie in his friend’s face, “you have a problem, man.”

To your surprise, the man beside you caught it, though you were still just one step too far behind him to catch the way a smug smirk tugged at his lips, “what?” as he couldn’t for the life of him hide the pride of the discovery is friend had surely made countless of times throughout their friendship.

“I leave you two alone for one night, one night!”

“…and to Matt for giving the closing argument of a lifetime and winning us this case!” Foggy raised his drink to the centre of where he, his colleagues and Karen sat around one of the small tables at Josie’s.

“Oh, come on,” the dark-haired man beside you humbly tilted his head, “you were on fire as well–”

“Matt,” his friend cut him off by briefly planting his palm on his shoulder, “just shut up and take the compliment,” before he tilted his beer bottle back up and roared, “cheers!”

“Cheers!” Karen, to the left of you, sang before the rest of you echoed, clinking all of your glasses together.

“Thank you,” Matt gave in and smiled as everyone took a sip, “I couldn’t have done it without you all,” before he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “especially you…”

The sound of his low voice directly in your ear was enough to turn your knees into jelly, but as your eyes fluttered up to gaze at him, the personal space he had now eliminated betwixt you two caused you to positively melt.

As you breathed out an audible smile, his lips stayed close as his breath once again tickled the shell of your ear, “so now that the trial’s done, I was wondering,” he uttered slowly, making you cling onto each and every syllable that flowed from his lips, “would you let me take you out on a real date?”

#lea’s writing #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock oneshot #matt murdock one-shot #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock dialogue #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #matthew murdock smut #marvel smut

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bokutosbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Airys BSD Masterlist

Armed Detective Agency 💚

Port Mafia 💚

The Guild 💚

The Decay of Angels 💚

The Hunting Dogs 💚

other bbgs 💚

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wannab-urs · 4 months ago

Text

Morning Ride

Pairing: Logan Howlett x f!reader

Summary: Logan wakes you up the morning after your motorcycle excursion OR Logan fucks you soft and sweet because you’re still sore.

Warnings: smut! Somnophilia, morning sex, soft and sweet this time, mostly, pet names, no use of y/n, mostly Logan POV so there’s the barest hint of angst related to him not aging and tragically losing everyone he loves, part 2 of Handlebars but can be read standalone, Logan can pick you up because he has mutant strength <3 WC: 1.1k

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after you get railed on the motorcycle and the contrast of how Logan would treat you. So here’s that. Thanks to @pedgito and @pr0ximamidnight for the read throughs <3

Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Logan wakes to early morning sunlight streaming through your gauzy curtains and you wrapped around him like a koala. He looks down at your peaceful face, nestled comfortably against his chest. He wants nothing more than to make you happy, all the time, in whatever way he can. You’re precious to him. He’s lost everyone he’s ever loved, knows he will lose you too. He’ll savor this while he can, make you feel good while he can.

He carefully extricates himself from your grip, settling himself between your thighs. You’re still bare after last night, your shirt lost somewhere over the edge of the bed.

Your pussy is still a little swollen, probably sore after he made you come so many times. He gently licks a stripe through your center and you whimper in your sleep. You unconsciously try to close your legs, but he’s got them spread open on his broad shoulders. He licks you again, adding a little more pressure to your clit. Your hands search for him, one burying itself in his hair and the other grasping at his arm. He buries his tongue inside you, licking up your slick, before flattening his tongue against your slit.

You wake up with a sleepy little moan, the sound going straight to his dick.

“Logan?”

He presses a kiss to your mound before answering. “Yeah, baby?”

“Please don’t stop.” Your voice is airy and desperate.

He looks up at you, all sleep mussed hair and bleary eyes and absolute perfection. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

Logan licks you in earnest now, drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. He pushes one finger into your entrance and you whine. He pulls back, looking up at you with a crease in his brow.

“Still sore. But don’t stop… please,” you gasp. He’ll stop if he thinks he’s hurting you, and you cannot have that.

He presses his finger the rest of the way inside you, curling it upward into your sweet spot and massaging you there. His tongue on your clit is relentless and you feel your orgasm bubbling up. You bury both hands in his hair and grind your hips against his face. Logan loves how lost you get in him, giving yourself entirely over to him so that he can make you feel good. He adds another finger, stretching your walls around his thick digits.

You’re shuddering against him almost instantly, walls clenching around his finger. Your soft moans spur him on and he licks you through your high, until you’re pushing him away, oversensitive. He sits up on his knees and looks down at you, fucked out and smiling blissfully.

“Come here,” you whine.

And he’s powerless to resist. He crawls up your body, lips dragging from mound to navel to each of your breasts. He presses another kiss to your throat before finally landing at your lips. You kiss him deeply, tongues brushing against each other. The heady taste of your own arousal on his tongue makes you whine into his mouth.

He notches the head of his cock at your entrance. You squirm beneath him, trying to take him in deeper.

“Careful, baby. You’re still sore,” he mutters against your lips.

“Not that sore. Fuck me, Logan.”

Again, powerless to resist anything you ask for, he pushes in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Your fingernails drag down his back, leaving bright red trails that heal almost immediately. He drops his forehead to yours, your breath comingling with his in the scant space between your lips. You both savor the feeling of him inside you, two halves of a whole forming into one, your bodies completely intertwined.

He pulls out slowly, only a few inches before he pushes back in, like he can’t stand to leave the heat of your body for long. He sets a slow, gentle rhythm, grinding his wiry pubic hair against your clit with every thrust. Your hands find the back of his head, wrapping his hair in your fingers and tugging him into you.

He kisses you again, softly on the lips, your nose, your forehead. Your eyes, when they’re open, look dazed, still heavy from sleep and made heavier by the slow drag of his cock in and out of your pussy. His own eyes nearly roll back in his head from how good you feel, but he determinedly keeps them trained on your face. He loves to watch you fall apart.

He sits back and pushes one of your legs up onto his shoulder before leaning forward again, deepening his thrusts so that he hits a spot inside you no one else ever has. Your hands tighten in his hair and you tug him back down to kiss you again. He increases his pace a little, still not enough to make you come, but enough to get you whimpering into his mouth.

“Please, Logan. Please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Lemme come. Wanna come for you.”

What kind of man would deny you that pleasure? He certainly can’t. He sits up on his knees and pulls your other leg onto his shoulder before leaning over you.

“Gonna let me fill you up again, baby?” He starts slow and deep, relentlessly pounds into you, hitting that spot with every thrust and making you see stars.

“Yes, Logan! Please!”

He feels you shatter around him, your pussy squeezing him so tightly. He thrusts into you one two three more times before spilling inside you, filling you so full his spend leaks out around his cock and down between your thighs. He stays buried inside as he lets your legs slide off his shoulders. He presses kisses to any skin he can get his mouth on until you pull him back up to your lips.

“Good morning,” you giggle against his lips, a smile forming on your own.

“Good morning, baby.” He smirks at you and drops a kiss to your forehead.

You bask in the afterglow for a little while before the mess between your thighs grows sticky and uncomfortable.

“I need a shower…”

Logan slowly pulls out of you with a deep groan and stands up. He lifts you out of the bed and into his impossibly strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and gets the water running.

You hop down and follow him into the shower, pressing your naked body against his. He gently runs a washcloth over every part of your body, lovingly, reverently even. You do the same for him, returning a softness he isn’t used to receiving. A softness he only gives to you and only gets from you.

After the shower, you end up back in bed, not willing to separate from him just yet. He cradles you against his chest, holding you close while he can.

“You made a mess on my bike last night,” he mumbles into your ear.

“I’ll clean it up later, Logan. Promise.” You nuzzle your face into his body and settle in for a few more hours of sleep.

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ichorai · 1 year ago

Text

wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter.

Control. That was all he needed.

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you.

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled.

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.”

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time.

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine.

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

��Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you.

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth.

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow

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mariasont · 7 months ago

Note

not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️

Undo You - S.R

a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo

anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)

wc: 1.3k

Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.

The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.

Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea.

Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose.

You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.

"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.

You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.

"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.

He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.

"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."

"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.

"Yes, exactly like that."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.

"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."

Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.

"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"

You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"

"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.

You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.

He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.

One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.

Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.

"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.

You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.

He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.

You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”

“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.

“I figured as much.”

Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.

“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”

He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”

That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.

You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.

He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.

He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.

He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.

He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”

You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”

He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

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amiableness · 4 months ago

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hiii!

first, i’m loving this dad!james series its genuinely so heart fulfilling so thank you for taking time out of your day to write

now i’m not sure if this will spark any interest but maybe dad!james and r have been dating for a like a month but no one knows and then the whole gang (or just rem and sirius) come over and like James is like extra touchy with her which like he was before but more so now so they’re both kinda like ??? until james is like she’s my girlfriend

ily

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 977 words

thank you sm babe! i love writing for you all! hope you like it <3 series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Do they seem off to you?” Remus murmurs, his gaze following James as he heads into the kitchen. He had muttered something about helping you with the tea, but it wasn’t like you really needed the help.

The whole afternoon, Remus had noticed how James couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze filled with that familiar, adoring warmth. That in itself wasn’t unusual—James had always looked at you that way. But what really caught Remus off guard was how openly you were returning those looks, your eyes just as soft, filled with the same affection. It wasn’t just the casual brush of his fingers against yours or his hand resting briefly on your lower back as you passed. It was also in the subtle, consistent touches—his knee brushing against yours under the table or the way his hand would linger on your arm during conversations.

You both appeared entirely and undeniably in love.

Sirius, however, is lost in his own world, meticulously taking apart one of Henry’s Lego sets just to rebuild it. “No,” he replies, not even looking up, his fingers expertly snapping the pieces back together. “Why? Did you notice something?”

“He hasn’t stopped touching her since we’ve got here.” Remus continues to stare at the doorway, as if expecting it to provide an answer somehow. The wall separating the kitchen from the living room blocks his view, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is different.

“He’s always like that with her.” Sirius says, focusing on a new Lego piece that refuses to snap into place. His frustration is clear as he twists and turns the piece, trying to make it fit.

“No,” Remus replies, shaking his head with a hint of uncertainty. “I’m sure I heard him call her ‘baby’ earlier.”

Sirius finally looks up, curiosity piqued by Remus’s tone. “When did you hear that?”

“When we first got here,” Remus says, his gaze distant as he recalls the moment. “James was talking to her in a more intimate way than usual.”

Sirius considers this, his frown softening slightly. “Oh, he probably did. He’s always calling her something sweet,” Sirius says with a casual shrug. “Lovesick is what he is.”

“He’s never called her ‘baby,’” Remus insists, his brow furrowing. “It’s different, I swear it.”

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, still engrossed in his Lego project. “We’ve thought that for years, and nothing’s ever really changed. Maybe this is just another nickname of his.”

Remus swears he hears you sigh James’ name from the kitchen, light and airy, and before Sirius can react, Remus is on his feet, tugging at his shirt with a sense of urgency. Sirius starts to protest, a frown forming on his face, but Remus doesn’t bother with an explanation. “C’mon,” he insists, pulling him toward the kitchen without another word.

“Nothing’s different, Rem. They’re just—” Sirius’s words die in his throat as he catches sight of you both.

James has you perched on the edge of the counter, his body firmly nestled between your legs, the warmth of him pressing against you in all the right ways. One hand cradles your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tilts your head just so, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your hip, fingers curling into the soft flesh where your shirt has bunched up, his touch pulling a gasp from you. The kiss is slow, unhurried, every brush of his lips against yours filled with a lingering desire, like he’s savoring every second. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the way your body arches into his, seeking more of him, makes it clear that neither of you wants to let go. The heat between you is palpable, each movement charged with a quiet intensity that speaks of just how much you want each other.

This is not the first time you’ve kissed clearly.

Remus clears his throat, a sound that cuts through the charged silence. You pull away from James, your breath coming in short, startled gasps. Your lips are swollen and pouty, still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. You clutch at James, reluctant to let go, as if the contact alone is grounding you.

James quickly tugs your shirt back into place, his hands lingering for a moment as he smooths out the fabric with a touch that’s both tender and possessive. His gaze flicks over to the boys, a mix of surprise and awkwardness crossing his face as he registers their stunned expressions. The heat in the room seems to intensify, the once-private moment now exposed under their watchful eyes.

“What the hell?” Sirius exclaims, his voice sharp with disbelief. “We’re out here building Legos—”

“I wasn’t building—” Remus begins to protest, but Sirius cuts him off.

“—as we wait for our tea, and you two are in here snogging?”

“No, we weren’t sno—” You start to protest, but Remus and Sirius cut you off with pointed looks.

“When did this happen?” Sirius demands, clearly miffed. “Because that’s obviously not the first time you’ve kissed her.”His tone reflects his hurt that James, his best friend, hadn’t mentioned anything about this development.

James clears his throat, his face a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. “About a month ago,” he admits.

“So you two are just messing around?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow. James’s expression turns from defensive to offended, his brows knitting together.

“No, you prat! She’s my girlfriend.” James snaps, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Bloody hell, it only took you about eight years.” Remus retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. You let out a laugh, unable to help yourself at Remus’s quip.

Sirius, his annoyance settling, lets out an exaggerated sigh, “I expect another niece or nephew as compensation for making us all wait this long for you two to get together.”

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

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