#and so much of the time i read stuff like this could've just been an original story because this has zero connection to canon whatsoever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tangents-within-tangents · 6 months ago

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Ooh! Okay, I love all of that! Thank you for sharing lol you just gave me some epiphanies!

I hadn't quite been able to figure out the significance of Crosshair killing Nolan, like that action specifically, and I think what you said makes a lot of sense! Because it totally wouldn't have worked (narratively or like for the character) if he had just quietly defected after the fact.

Crosshair is really complicated, and since I was focusing more on the comparisons to Emerie I didn't get into all the aspects of his full arc (but at this point why not make the post even longer lolll). But I also noticed how often Crosshair identifies himself as a soldier, I actually originally had this exchange in my analysis:

Rampart: All that time, left for dead and yet you still came back. Why? Crosshair: I’m a soldier of the Empire. Rampart: I see. Your loyalty and determination are commendable.

(which side note, I realize that further shows the difference between those two! Crosshair is there to be a soldier whereas Rampart is just there for himself, like he can't even fathom Crosshair's loyalty after being abandoned like that)

Those recurring ideas of loyalty and purpose are directly tied to Crosshair's identity as a soldier, like that is where he finds his purpose and that's why this is what changes his mind:

Nolan: He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

So the idea that killing Nolan isn't a desperate act of vengeance but Crosshair deliberately giving up his identity as a soldier just really clicks for me and makes that arc feel more complete in a way.

If it was purely self-preservation he could have just defected and run away. That would have been just cutting his losses and leaving the Empire solely because it no longer serves him. But unlike with Cody it's not enough for him to just stop serving the Empire. Instead by killing Nolan he actively rejects the Empire and "seals it in blood" by choosing treason and its consequences. It's like in that act he is 'killing' the soldier that he was for the Empire. (And if we bring the context of Mayday into it, it means that he would rather die defying the Empire than die for them.)

This also ties to my other favorite bit of the vulture symbolism! Which is this moment:

When Crosshair collapses and the stormtroopers close in to take him away, what would appear as his lowest point, the vulture soars upward. To me it shows that even in this dire moment Crosshair truly is finally free. It ensures that this is an internal triumph even if it looks like an external defeat. (And after this turning point he never does go back, even when he could have saved himself by giving Hemlock what he wanted in Tantiss)

So yeah thanks, I didn't quite realize that in killing Nolan he was choosing to be imprisoned or killed as traitor. I think that's a death 'redemption' I could get behind! Because it's not a sudden single sacrifice that supposedly absolves them of all wrongs without ever facing the repercussions (look at that you drew the rant for another time out of me lol), it's him 'killing' the version of himself that did those wrongs, rejecting that identity. It's not 'redeemed' through heroic death, it's like by the death itself (if that makes sense). And since he didn't actually die like he thought he would, he still has to live with the aftermath and implications of that change. Viewing it like that, it makes way more sense that the after-arc in S3 is about rebuilding his identity and finding new purpose with his family: "Omega needs all of us". (which also fits with the hand tremors thing (losing his identifying skill), and more possible parallels with the CX troopers since their "identities were erased" (though that plotline was pretty rushed so I don't even know) but I really like what you said about Ventress and Omega helping him realize things!)

But! He's still only facing the aftermath implications for himself, not for those he hurt with his actions, which is why to me his arc still isn't a 'redemption' in that sense. And @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog (sorry I don't want to keep reblogging my own beast of post lol) yeah it is 100% a valid arc/ change, I guess it depends on your definition of redemption, because to me the amends/accountability part is really important (something this posts (@antianakin) touches on, though I clearly disagree with the purpose of those characters' arcs). And to clarify, I'm not talking about the character himself, or what he's been through or deserves or whatever, it's about how it's written and what the story we are actually given is saying. That's what I'm critiquing.

With the above context I see how the change itself is really vital. I can get what you're saying that it "convinced Howzer that Crosshair had changed for the better, and that was good enough for him." And it is in-character honestly (Crosshair's not much for words) and it works for what it is.

What bothers me with those episodes (I guess we can do this rant now too lol might as well) is how the show/writing treats Howzer. Because it really feels like they are saying Howzer is in the wrong for not immediately accepting Crosshair, even though he has completely legitimate reasons to dislike and distrust Crosshair because of his actions. Even Hunter calls Howzer out when in the last episode he was just as rightfully distrusting of Crosshair's change until they talked it out. Crosshair doesn't show any remorse in those episodes, he comes off as pretty smug and dismissive instead, but Howzer still has to accept it anyway, mostly on his own by just observing Crosshair's behavior.

Like I said, Crosshair has changed and that's great, but he still did those things. The show had the perfect opportunity for him to face that here! To show that he regrets his past actions instead of just telling Hunter, and to act on those regrets by making amends with someone who was affected.

Like I think of this scene from Atla for comparison:

Suki: You kinda burned down my village. Zuko: Oh… sorry about that.

It's simple, it doesn't undo the wrong (reparations) but it still does the bare minimum of amends (and more is done with his reconciliation with the main characters). Yeah Suki can see that Zuko has changed by his actions (and he is actively fighting against the Fire Nation to help others) but they don't expect her to just accept that in and of itself, Zuko still shows and expresses remorse, and doesn't shame Suki for being upset about what happened. But with a very similar scene of 'changed person is confronted by a past wrong' we instead get this:

Howzer: Most of my squad from Ryloth is dead because of you! Crosshair: *blinks* Rex: Easy, Howzer!

Crosshair is confronted with someone who he directly harmed, but instead of exploring his accountability in the aftermath of his change they made it about his victim's acceptance and unearned forgiveness.

Crosshair's arc as it is (described at length above) works for me, but this does not. Like if they had done just this differently I think I honestly would be fine if everything else stays the same and Crosshair never actively goes against the Empire. Because it's not even about screen time, the opportunity was right there to tip the scales into an better-written actual redemption but they just didn't use it!

And I think that is why TBB as a whole has been frustrating me lately lol. The writing was honestly so good at times, so I can never dismiss it out right. But there are also so many ways it could have been SO MUCH better. And it was really close too which almost makes it worse! Because then we see these glimpses of what the show could have been to compare it to. The potential was there they just missed it, or often times actively avoided it. (But that truly is a discussion of another time, I've got a LOT of draft posts in the works lol)

Hot take:

Crosshair does not have the Imperial disillusionment and redemption arc of The Bad Batch

Emerie does.

Crosshair has an arc for sure yes but it's not that.

I was thinking about this scene:

and how it got right what this scene kinda didn't:

(It was so close but then bad writing decided to undercut the moment with a joke rip)

And I think it's really interesting that these characters who were more or less raised into the Empire/First Order and chose to leave it are all directly asked why.

But take a look at Crosshair's answers in comparison:

Different context for the asking, yes, but still, compare that to clones like Howzer, Cody, Slip and Cade who left or turned against the Empire because they knew what the Empire is doing is wrong and they weren't just going to blindly follow orders:

Crosshair - Loyalty, Purpose, and Survival

Crosshair didn't choose to join the Empire (though the show isn't very clear or consistent about how much control the inhibitor chips have) but he did, for whatever reason, choose to stay. By the end of S1 we know his chip has been removed and as he definitively says "This is who I am." There were likely still other influences on his decision, but listen to how he talks about the Empire in the S1 finale:

Hunter: Crosshair, I've seen what the Empire is doing. Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right. Crosshair: You still don’t see the bigger picture, but you will. Hunter: Can't you see they're using you?

Crosshair: We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior. The Empire can’t protect the galaxy without strength, this is what we were made for. Think of all we could do, together!

Crosshair: You all are meant for more than drifting through the galaxy. It’s time to stop running. Join the Empire, and you will have purpose again.

Hunter: They destroyed an entire city! Crosshair: They did what needed to be done. Kamino, regs, the Republic, that time is over. The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it. Hunter: Don't fool yourself. All you'll ever be to them is a number.

He undeniably knows what the Empire is doing, but he does not care. In fact it sure sounds like he actually supports it and finds self-meaning in it. Hunter spends those episodes trying to convince him it's wrong, he doesn't change his mind. In the end they offer him an out and he doesn't take it.

Wrecker: You coming with us? Crosshair: None of this changes anything. Hunter: You offered us a chance, Crosshair. This is yours. Crosshair: I made my decision.

The next we see Crosshair in "The Solitary Clone" (S2:E3) he follows orders and shoots the Desix governor, right after Cody heartbreakingly tries to do what's right and find a peaceful solution.

Cody: Tell me something, Crosshair. This new Empire, are we making the galaxy better? Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

After this (glorious!) conversation, Crosshair stays. Maybe this began to seed some doubts, but he actually smiles a few scenes later when Rampart assigns him another mission. It seems like for him it truly is as he said in S1:E1 (chip not enhanced yet but still influencing him enough for his brothers to notice he's acting strange):

Crosshair: Republic, Empire... what's the difference.

Crosshair: Orders are orders.

This unethical mission that finally pushed Cody over the edge does not change Crosshair's mind about the Empire, at least not enough for him to take action.

But what does?

Mayday: And here we are, the survivors. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments. Crosshair: Mission’s a mission. Mayday: Yeah, I used to say the same thing.

Mayday: After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed. We’re good soldiers, we followed orders. And for what?

This mission has nothing to do with how the fascist Empire treats the galaxy, it's about how they treat their soldiers. It's about how Mayday loyally fought and served his whole life and Lieutenant Nolan let him die

Lt Nolan: He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire. Crosshair: You could have saved him! Lt Nolan: Perhaps you didn’t hear me, he is expendable, as are you.

Crosshair thought he could find purpose within the Empire, and Nolan shows him exactly what that will be.

His turning point is accompanied with this powerful visual of the ice vulture, a symbol (and threat) of death, and also set up within the episode a symbol of survival:

Mayday: Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.

This critical moment (that gives me chills, oof this episode is a masterpiece!) comes right after Nolan calls him expendable and directly threatens him:

Lt Nolan: And if you speak to me again with such disrespect I'll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.

then Crosshair sees the vulture's shadow and turns to Mayday's dead body (ahh visual storytelling my beloved) then makes his decision:

Crosshair turns against the Empire not because he believes Hunter was right about this:

Hunter: I've seen what the Empire is doing ... You know it's not right.

but because he was right about this:

Hunter: All you'll ever be to them is a number.

Redemption (both in fiction and irl in my humble opinion) comes with making amends and reparations (which is why death 'redemptions' bother me so much but that's a rant for another time). Unlike Emerie, Crosshair never explicitly denounces the Empire or his own actions within it. He never says anything to specifically show if and how his views have changed from what he said on Kamino. He makes amends with his family (sending the warning message, helping Omega escape, making up with Hunter) but that's about it. The most we get in terms of acknowledgement is this:

Crosshair: I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire. I thought I was being a good soldier. Hunter: Nobody really understood what was happening back then. Crosshair: I’ve... done things. I’ve made mistakes. Hunter: I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better, and who knows there just might be hope for us yet.

Which is nice and all but it's more about them making up as brothers so it's way too excusing tbh ("no one knew what was happening back then" ummm? "The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it" remember? And even if at first Crosshair was being controlled by the chip, the fact that he chose to stay after it was removed* means he condones and is therefore still accountable for those actions).

There's also a bit of self-destructive guilt:

Crosshair: Omega, don't risk anything for me. I belong in here.

Crosshair: Omega needs you both. So I’m doing this alone, it’s what I deserve. Hunter: Don’t even think about plan 99, Crosshair. Omega needs all of us.

(which thank you Hunter for pushing back on the death redemption bs and oh look is that a wrap up for the purpose thing?)

But there's no action taken on his part to make up for what he's done or to stand against the Empire (aside from the bare minimum of help with Tantiss, only after it became personally relevant, which like yeah he had trauma to deal with but still).

While I do think the implications/follow-up of Crosshair's turn should have been handled better in S3 (like rip Howzer! he deserved an apology, but that's a rant for another time), I don't necessarily** think this arc is a bad writing choice. It's just saying different things than we expect:

Maybe Crosshair's story is not about standing up against an unjust system, like we see with many other characters (who deserved more screen time but that's a rant for another timeeee). Maybe his story is about how even those who are loyal to the Empire, who actually believe in it, still suffer under and within it's rule. Not to garner sympathy, but to show that there is no winning.

Crosshair has another 'so what changed' convo in S3:E14 with Rampart, in which they draw parallels to each other:

Rampart: You used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair: Depends on who's giving them. The Empire betrayed us both. Rampart: And you think you can fight them? That's not you. You're like me, loyal to no one but yourself. Crosshair: I've changed.

(note how he says who's giving the orders, not what the orders are)

"Loyal to no one but yourself" describes Rampart much more than Crosshair, since we often saw Crosshair pride himself as a loyal soldier of the Empire whereas we saw Rampart abuse power to be self-serving within the Empire (like when he killed Wilco to save face). But they were both betrayed either way. Vice Admiral Rampart, snively Imperial opportunist through-and-through, shouts "I was following orders!" as he is arrested for the Empire's purposes.

Even Hemlock, the final boss immoral Imperial scientist, who has to be benefiting the most from this system, echoes the expendability idea:

Hemlock: What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire it makes me indispensable.

Then there's CX-2, also set up as a parallel/foil to Crosshair (fight me), who in the end is discarded as no more than a weapon, a tool that served it's purpose, showing us what would have become of Crosshair if he had stayed.

There is no winning in the Empire. Loyalty is not rewarded, it "doesn't go both ways." Everyone has to fight for their value. Even high ranking individuals** who for a time benefit from the injustice, in the end are just pawns to be used up and cast aside at a whim for the Emperor's gain. Even people who are motivated by self-interest alone cannot survive within this system, the only viable option in this galaxy is to fight the Empire and dismantle that system. (unless you conveniently find a magically safe island to hide away on but that's a rAnT fOr AnOtHeR tImE)

Which brings us back to...

Emerie - Cooperation, Compassion, and Choice

(Okay this post has already gotten away from me but I still want to talk about her to show the contrasts.)

Emerie may not have been given a lot of screen time to really flesh out her development, but there is a lot that is pretty clearly implied with her:

Crosshair: They’ll never turn her [Omega] over. Hemlock: They don’t have a choice. She is a clone, and therefore Imperial property. *Camera cuts to an angle more centered on Emerie’s face*

Crosshair: Give me your access card! Emerie: It won’t get you outside!

Emerie: I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the Doctor.

Emerie: Prisoner? Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there.

Emerie: You should go back to your room. Crosshair: You mean her cell?

Emerie: Why children? Hemlock: Children are easier to attain and more agreeable to the subjugations. They are unaware of why they are here and what they possess.

Emerie: They're children. Like I was... Was your plan to discard them too? Nala Se: The Empire will keep them in order to control them.

We don't know a lot about Emerie's background, but it's clear that she had a lot less choice than Crosshair and less opportunity or ability to leave. Unlike Crosshair, we never directly hear Emerie's views of the Empire (and she was most likely 'taken under Hemlock's wing' before the Empire even came to power), but lets look at how she talks about the Tantiss:

"Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive."

"Don't make this worse, Crosshair! There is no escape!"

"All of us serve a purpose here."

"The Doctor will inform me, if it's necessary."

"It's best not to ask questions."

"Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good."

She honestly does the best she can within the system she is also trapped in. She tries to help Crosshair, Omega, and the vault kids in the only way she knows how (warns Crosshair about the hounds and security, tries to protect Omega from Hemlock, tells Scorch his "actions were extreme" with Jax, insists on overseeing Bayrn's retrieval, double checks his m-count (to give him an out), and tries to find out where he came from). When she gives Omega, and later Eva, the doll, I think it shows just how little she really is able to do here (and it's kinda heartbreaking imo).

The framing of this shot especially (after Jax's escape attempt) visually shows how Emerie herself is trapped/imprisoned:

Despite the fact that very little of this is Emerie's fault, she has very little power and she is doing all she can, the narrative does not excuse her role in the Empire:

Nala Se: What will you do, Emerie? Emerie: There is nothing I can do. I don't have that kind of power. Nala Se: Don't you?

Emerie: I- I was doing my job. Echo: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. You’re a clone. How can you be part of this?

These fighting-the-Bystander-Effect conversations parallel these exchanges:

Hunter: We made a choice, and so did you. Crosshair: Soldiers follow orders. Hunter: Blind allegiance makes you a pawn.

Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

which did not change Crosshair's mind. And honestly, all respect to Echo's disappointed mom glare™ but I think it's clear Emerie had already made her decision, she just needed help to actually be able to do anything about it. When she stopped Echo, with her voice wavering on the verge of tears (ahhh v good voice acting), she clearly had no intention of turning him in. She's on her own in the Empire's most secure facility with very little resources, if she had tried anything on her own she most likely would have failed and been killed

Omega: Emerie, you don't have to do this. Emerie: (sigh) I’m sorry, but I do.

but as soon as she is enabled by an ally, she immediately turns around to help: giving information and getting Echo through security, helping the kids escape, and giving Omega the tablet that allows them to free the other clone prisoners.

Where Crosshair's turn is accompanied by the symbolic imagery of the ice vulture, Emerie's is the removal of her (literally rose-tinted!) glasses:

Symbolizing how she has shed her previous views/indoctrination that altered her perception of the Empire and blinded her to it's wrongs. It's disillusionment.

Emerie's story shows us that even those who are raised and indoctrinated into this system can, should, and will escape (with needed help). Even those who did not choose to be apart of the Empire and are not making the decisions still have the responsibility and ability to act on what they know is right.

Emerie, whose name means 'Home strength' 'Brave' and 'Powerful', and "reflects the importance of leadership and authority in the workplace".***

While Emerie is only in one more scene after her turn, so the wrap up is a bit rushed, she still very simply does what Crosshair does not:

Emerie: Because I was wrong about this place. And I'm trying to do the right thing.

Echo: I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find what you have to say very helpful for our cause. Emerie: I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.

She admits wrong, takes accountability, commits to making amends, and leaves with Echo to go take on the Empire (which hopefully we will get to actually see more of some day).

So, in short, she's showing us how redemption is done right!

---

Notes:

*Whether this writing choice was good/logical/in-character or not is another discussion entirely, but I'm going off of what we were given, what the show is presenting in the canon text and (reasonably inferred/intentional) subtext. Crosshair is pretty multifaceted and I could only touch on so much here. There's a lot of ways to interpret his character/choices, but I tried to avoid the realm of speculation or fanon explanations (even if they sometimes make more sense lol).

**History and political theory are not my area of expertise at all, so I have NO idea how well this aligns with real-world fascism stuff and therefore what implications this storytelling choice could have. I think the message of like 'if you think you could survive or gain power by doing what the Empire/fascist system wants you are wrong' could be good (like how everyone is actually harmed by the patriarchy type of a thing), but I hesitate bc maybe there are those who would benefit, since it's a hierarchal system, right? If anyone more knowledgeable than me has incite to share, by all means

Either way, I do think it works in-story and in-universe though. It's just in the execution. The main problem (even from a strictly theme/character arc stand point) is the lacking follow-up/consequences for Crosshair in S3. Like you gave your character accountability by removing the chip and I think that's great setup for an arc but you gotta follow through with that and actually hold him accountable!

***I'm always curious when clones have 'normal' names, like why did they chose the name Emerie of all things? So I looked it up. Idk how reliable sources are for name meanings so take it with a grain of salt but it's still fun. Fits pretty well, and clones names have definitely had significant meanings in the past (like how Rex and Jesse both mean 'king') so I'm pretty sure it was intentional.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my tedtalk

#sometimes i feel like i'm reading too much into this show and giving the writers more thematic credit than is due #the pieces are defo there but there's a difference between finding it through analysis and reaching through OVER analysis #i think there's ways they could've solidified these things within the actual text and subtext if it's what they were really going for #and they could still have executed them better too #the cx troopers are a good example of that #they clearly were doing parallel stuff but the plotline didn't resolve well enough for that to actually work or really mean anything #also why is this one character SO complex while wrecker (who technically has more total screen time) has like no development whatsoever?#like don't do an ensemble show if you can't balance all the characters #additional tangent on this already long af post that just got longer lol:#i believe that characters arcs in general should be ARCS #often times a story ends at the PEAK of an arc so we don't get to see the results of that change #and that exploration and aftermath is MOST important for redemption arcs ESP when people have been harmed #thats why the death redemptions bother me bc the character completely cheats out of ever dealing with the consquences #change is good and important and so are good deeds #but one ultimate sacrifice doesn't make up for everything they did and does nothing to help the people who are still affected #darth vader's death redemption works for me bc it was actually about Luke being right about seeing good in him and trusting their connectio #kylo ren's does NOT (though nothing worked in that film lol)#i was so mad when he died for this very reason bc i knew it was gonna happen and that's not REDEMPTION ugh #also why did they kiss ew #ANYWAY #redemption arcs #character arcs #tbb crosshair #tbb analysis #tbb critical #tbb's subpar writing #writing #writing pet peeves #atla #atla zuko

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evieelyzabethh · 10 months ago

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Warmer than a Comforter

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: it wasn't unusual for Spike to 'break' into your apartment, but it was unusual for him to want to spend the night.

warnings: very long (4.4k words), spike being a simp, one bed trope, dry humping, thigh fucking, masturbation, some fingering, slight praise, Spike being Spike, a smidge of possessiveness, and thats about it

It was no secret to anyone your favorite time of day was long after the sun went down. A full-time college student who worked a part time job on top of that was no easy feat. Your time during the day was never your time, it was your shitty professors time who assigned reading after reading that needed to be read for the never-ending stream of papers and theses, it belonged to your shitty boss who piled on tons of paperwork and demanded you be at his beck and call even after you clocked out. As much as you loved them, your time off belonged to your friends; patrolling, looking through dusty-old books, trying not to die every time you stepped out of your apartment.

When you got home (if there was no patrolling to be done), it was your time and while you were tired, you made time for your nightly routine. You'd slip off your shoes and walk in the dark to make it to your room to turn on your lamp, because you'd be damned if you were turning on one of the big lights this late.

You would usually strip down and dig a pair of pajamas out of your drawers before taking a scalding shower. You'd brush your teeth and wash your face, maybe if you had the energy, you'd do a face mask and paint your nails. You'd turn on your stereo or switch on your TV to fall asleep to the fuzzy sound and soft light. This, of course, is what you'd be doing right now had you not walked into your house with company.

You could see him lounging on your bed, the darkness of his attire somehow darker than your unlit room. His duster slung on the back of your desk chair, only clothed in some tight navy shirt and jeans.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed when you realized he had his dirty ass boots on your bed.

"M' paying my favorite Scooby a visit." You walked over to turn on your lamp, giving you enough light to see how smug he was. His arms sat behind his head, his eyes glittering with amusement. He was doing this to annoy you. He did most things just to annoy you.

"Pay another Scooby a visit." You were dead tired, practically forcing your eyes open. You had just gotten back from work, your bag still in your hand which you used to knock his legs off your bed. He could've been stubborn, but he let you.

You stripped off your hoodie, flashing him your stomach as your undershirt rose with the movement. He whistled, "Scandalous."

"Get out of my apartment." You tossed your hoodie at him while rolling your eyes. He caught it midair, bringing it to his nose to sniff it.

"Smells different. You using a different bodywash?" You hummed as you walked around your room to find something suitable to wear to bed. It was dreadfully hot out, even worse than what you'd expect from a California summer. You had at least 3 fans going anytime you were here, especially since your landlord could never seem to find a permanent solution to the junky A.C unit.

"Midnight Rose. Real fancy stuff." You hadn't even noticed a difference, but of course Spike would. Vampire senses had a way of being intrusive in a way that was only helpful when it came to your cycle and saving you bed sheets.

"I like the other one better: the cocoa butter one. It was fainter. You smelt more like you." You scoffed.

"Duly noted." Your hands roamed over the old t-shirts from high school and camisole tops so old the straps had snapped on a couple of them.

Spike sat up on your bed, untying the laces on his shoes haphazardly before setting them by your bedroom door. He roamed around like you had been, picking up bottles of nail polish and flipping through one of the books on your shelf.

"You could spare me a bit of your attention, love. I mean I did go through the trouble of-"

"Breaking into my apartment?" You interrupted.

"On second thought, it was a bit easy. I pushed it a bit and the window came right out. Are you leaving it open for somebody?" His tone was supposed to sound much more teasing than it did. There was a pang in his chest, probably of jealousy. Much to his chagrin, he was jealous a lot these days and he couldn't quite tell if his frequent visits were enabling that or the very cause of it. Either way, it was hard not to just crawl through your window anytime he pleased.

You acted like you were annoyed and if he had a dollar for every time you threatened to call Buffy on him, he wouldn't need to dumpster dive for furniture. If he had another dollar for every time, you never followed through, he'd be even richer. You said it's because you could handle yourself without her help, but, admittedly, you didn't hate his company that much.

As far as house guests go, it could be worse. It's not like he eats all your food, talks your ears off, or is unfunny. He was just there. A pain in your ass sometimes, like when he insists on being half a step behind you during patrols and never fails to tell you how great your ass looks from behind. Never a malevolent presence, just annoyingly noticeable.

His boots were clunky, and he smelled of faint cigarettes and alcohol. He also hated silence. He was fidgety and anxious, even if his intentions were stealth, he couldn't help but break the tension and open his mouth. At times against his will, he just wanted to be noticed that bad. He just needed to be around you that bad.

"I keep telling the landlord to fix it, but he insists it's just fine. 'Nothin' some glue won't fix'." But you had tried gluing it. Had it not been for the clear shit jammed in the lock, the window would've just come right open with the flick of a finger.

"I could fix it for you." He went ignored while you had made your way to your bathroom, taking your hair down from the claw clip it had been stuck in for the past few hours. A slight moan of relief slipped through your lips as your fingers carded through it to massage your scalp.

"You know how to fix windows?"

"Well...no. But it can't be that hard. I've been around a few hundred years, surely I can figure out how to fix a bloody window." What he meant to say (if he had the balls) was that he would be more than happy to learn how to fix a window for you. It would give him an excuse to hang around, it would keep him in your good graces for a solid month, and he wouldn't have to break an entering anymore. Granted, his preferred place of entry had long been broken and he could always come through the front door, but it was a matter of principle.

You looked him up and down, trying to decipher if this was a set up for a joke or if he was actually serious, but he kept his head down. He hadn't been able to blush since he was a human, but the habit had a way of rearing its head for you.

He was so pretty too. With his high cheekbones and the way the warm light made his complexion look less ghastly. As ironic and cliche as it would be to say, he looked slightly angelic. Like one who fell from Heaven and donned the dark and mysterious charade to make it hurt less. He would burn away under a cross just to make it back to Heaven. Nearly break his spine falling out of windows and bleed out taking stabs if it meant he was closer to your doors. If there was one thing Spike did well, it was devotion.

"You wouldn't even know where to start. I'll just call Xander or something."

"What're you gonna do that for!"

"Because, Spike," you laughed incredulously, confused as to if this was going to become an argument or form a chip on his shoulder. "If I want something fixed, I'm going to call someone who does it for a living."

"But would Xander do it for free?"

"Would you?"

"I wouldn't charge anything of monetary value." You snorted, not surprised at all with his answer.

"You are such a whore, you know that?"

"What can I say, baby?" He leaned against the door frame of your bathroom, where you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was happy that his nonexistent reflection could betray him. He was grateful to be a part of this routine - your routine- in a way that didn't disrupt your peace. It was soft. Almost domestic.

You were so meticulous about the way you scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth. He liked how when you took off your makeup the glitter remained. You sparkled at the right angles, really fucking sparkled. Of course, he was going to sit and stare at you; mascara still not completely wiped away, hair tied back with a fuzzy headband, lips agitated from being bit throughout the day. It was poetic. Second nature to him. He didn't need to breath, but it came to him then, overwhelming and filling his lungs like water until he was full as he stared at you in the mirror with not even his own reflection to judge him.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower."

"How rude, without me?" Damn, he sounded like a bloody idiot. You only looked him up and down, trying to appear deeply disgusted but stopped just shy of mildly annoyed.

"Get out of my apartment before I stake you." You slammed the bathroom door in his face, hiding your blush behind the wood.

"That's not a no." His voice is muffled behind the door, and as much as you'd like to believe he didn't hear it, you did laugh.

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

Spike had to have been a cat in a previous life, is what you decided when you found him still on your bed, nose in some magazine he found pretending to care about the newest Natasha Denona palette.

"That crypt must be uncomfortable as hell for you to still be here." You skated around your room to sink beside him. He reaches across his side to pull out a bottle of water and hands it to you.

"Your showers are hot as hell; I'm surprised you didn't pass out in there." He flips through the pages nonchalantly, pretending not to be incredibly fixated at the water dripping from the nape of your neck and disappearing into your shirt.

"You would've loved that, wouldn't you? Getting to play 'knight and shining armor' while I'm conveniently naked." The sound waxy pages being torn was a surprise. So much of you and his banter was contingent on the assumption that neither of you meant anything serious so nothing would become anything.

Spike, who spent most of his mortal adult life swallowing his feelings until his stomach became an endless chasm where his feelings went to fester rather than die, was more than okay with this unspoken arrangement. Sarcasm was a second language to you. You were used to your words not mattering, especially since in your group of friends, your existence seemed to matter far less than everyone else's. You wondered if that was why you and Spike got along so well.

He just got you. Maybe a side effect of him being around you whenever he could. He just got you. In a stupid way. In an annoying way. The kind of way that made you worried that reading minds was also one of his vampiric powers. He wormed his stupid way into your brain, slithering around in his own sort of Spike way til you didn't know where his influence began.

He did sort of have this hypnotic way of speech. Maybe because he was a poet. Poets have to have some sort of hypnotic power, right? Surely, there was some connection between rhythms and brain waves that made the effect of Spike's voice so persuasive. Maybe it's not the rhythm and it's just the honesty. Ironic, since the basis of your "relationship" was built on never assuming that the other meant what they said, but who cares. It gave you guys flavor. Something to keep things interesting.

"I'll have you know; I am a very old-fashioned guy with manners." You snorted as his response. He talked about his "old-fashioned" ways a lot. Maybe to convince you that he was a gentleman. Gentleman your ass, you'd seen what he kept in his crypt.

"My deepest apologies for assuming that a guy that used railroad spikes as a murder weapon of choice wouldn't be above jumping at the opportunity to see me naked."

"Am I that transparent?"

"When it comes to mirrors, yeah." His scoff was lost in the sound of a car horn going off across the street. Damn, you needed a new place. He had complained to you about the noise before. If you didn't leave near a busy street, he would try his luck spending the night far more than he already did. Each blare deepened the scowl on his face as he flinched at the sound, even louder from where he sat in front of it.

"Those death buggies have to be the worst thing to come out of the 20th century. So obnoxious, and for what?"

"I imagine they are more convenient than horse drawn carriages."

"Yeah, more convenient and not even half the charm." He turned his head to gaze out the window. "It's not even a nice car! I'd rather ride around in the fucking Angel Mobile than drive around in that thing."

"You are so dramatic. Usually I just," you swing your leg over his waist, straddling and reaching over to close the window. He swallowed hard at the feeling of your chest pressing against the magazine, the only boundary between him and you, and the nonchalance of the action. "Shut the window." You felt him tense beneath you, his right hand awkwardly meeting your hip, blue eyes staring up at you through dark eyelashes. "Then again, I'm not a pansy who needs complete silence to sleep."

He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I sleep in a cemetery, love, ain't much noise around those parts." His eyes wandered everywhere they could but the worst part about beautiful people is that there is no unsightly place to avert your gaze. He couldn't stare at your gorgeous eyes, or your stunning nose, or your lips to distract himself from the steadily growing boner that you were sitting right on top of. You were no better than he was.

Within the context of the unspoken agreement, this meant absolutely nothing. The boner was just a normal reaction, that didn't have to mean anything. The way he was looking at you was a bit hard to ignore, but that was the way he always looked at you. He was a lot closer right now, sure, but that stupid lovesick look that you have spent years trying to ignore, totally just a joke. Not real at all. A trick of the light, in fact. The hard-on was very real though.

After sitting there for a few seconds too long, you shift your weight to move back to your side of the bed, but his hands keep you in your place. " 'm cold", he mutters, his thumb rubbing circles between where your shorts meet your bare skin.

"Yeah?" You feel him pressing up against your core. "I didn't think you could get cold."

" Me either but-", you lowered yourself completely on his clothed dick and the groan he let out was salacious. "Here we are." The frigid way he moved made his lie believable. Incredibly cautious, hesitant. No idea what to do with himself. He ran his hands along your thighs, up and down your side, one cold hand sliding underneath your shirt, rubbing the hem of it between his pointer finger and his thumb.

You leaned forward, warm breath fanning against his nose. It smelled like mint. You smelled like some sort of cocoa butter. Smooth and soft on top of him and he didn't know if you were going to roll right off or melt into his skin. Your hands come to the sides of his face, and you stare intently at him. He felt like he was under a microscope with the way you looked at him like you were committing each detail of him to memory so that even when you closed his eyes, it was still him burning in the forefront of your mind.

"You gonna kiss me?" You whispered, pressing yourself further into him. He let out a breathy laugh.

"What, a guy's always gotta make the first move?" With that, you leaned down to give him what was meant to be a quick peck. A tester. A tease. But when you give Spike an inch, he takes a mile, and he took the opportunity to devour you. Mouth open, sloppy, wet kisses while his hands worked as eagerly as his tongue did. You were a calming presence, slow and sane as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to try and ground the both of you.

Breathing through your nose, you inhaled him. The faint smell of smoke, the fresh smell of whatever he washed the gel from his hair with, the distinctly Spike musk. Your thighs wrapped him more closely, subtly grinding into his lap, ignoring the slight burn on your knees from the friction between them and your sheets. His large hands covered swathes of skin, cooling you where you grew too hot from his touch. When he had his fill, he broke away from you, still nose to nose, a string of saliva still between the two of you.

"Do you wanna spend the night?" Your voice was somehow meek as if there was any way in hell he would say no to you. He breathed out, turning his head into the crook of your neck, leaving searing kisses on your silky skin, worshipping at his altar, and thanking who or whatever got him here tonight. He kisses you from your neck, along your jawline, to the corner of your lips.

"Yes", he whispers against your skin. He bucks his hips into you, the imprint of his cock and the rough material of his jeans kissing your pussy through the thin layers of material. You nearly choke on his tongue at the feeling. Fuck.

Your eyes are closed, hips moving furiously against his, too blissed out to even care about the steadily growing wet patch in your underwear. You're lost in kisses, kisses that overwhelm and confuse and steal your breath until you wonder how much you need to breathe anyway. Along with not needing to breathe, you learned they must have incredible resolve. He chases you. Not like how a wolf chases a lamb but how the sun chases the moon.

He pulls and you push for breath, some sort of reprieve, some time for your mind to catch up with your body because right now everything but the way the seams of his jeans catch your clit is one of the only things on your mind. He pulls you, still, his hands squeezing at your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbing at your nipples, and flicking the already hard peaks. And you push, still, not in protest but in harmony. Your hips pressing down, his jerking up. Your hands tugging his hair, his squeezing your waist. It was good. It was so good.

"What is the point", he starts breathlessly, "of these damn shorts if they're so thin. You're leaking right through, love." He smiles against you, sharp teeth grazing against your cheek as he smirks.

"Take 'em off me then." For once in his life, he takes his time. The desperation of his prior movements forgotten as he looks at you as he trails a finger from your chest down between the valley of your breasts, to your navel. He draws invisible shapes along your stomach, diamonds, hearts, and letters spelling m-i-n-e. And he stalls there. Looking from beneath you, smug as you ground yourself onto his dick in an attempt to move him along.

He was amused. Fascinated. You in your own world, mewling, moaning, putting on a show just for him. Choosing to ignore how sticky your panties had gotten, how much they stuck to your cunt as you wiggled your hips as if you could get any closer. Your tits moving with you, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the way you keened when you rubbed against him just right. It was no motivation for him to move his hands at all, not when it was much more rewarding to angle his hips up and make you see stars. "You gonna cum like this?" He crooned, full of fake sympathy.

"You're really gonna make me get myself off." You rolled your eyes, maybe out of pleasure, maybe out of faux annoyance. Either way, his hand slithered to the waistband of your shorts and dipped even deeper. He left feather-light touches on your clit which sent jolts of electricity up your spine. Overcome with the tightening feeling in your belly, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as your hips worked and worked you snapped. Impossibly wet and dazed, you rocked into him until the high had passed and the stars had left from behind your eyelids leaving only Spike.

His fingers still, in your panties, he moves to slide them and your shorts off your body. You hover slightly, still too sensitive to rub your bare pussy against him. You fidget with the button of his jeans and zipper, Spike's hands coming to cover yours to ease the shakiness. Maybe to give the appearance that he was much calmer than he was. He was painfully hard, and you felt it when you palmed him through his boxers after getting his pants down enough. Where his tip sat was a wet spot. You smirked.

"Did I get your dick that wet?" A shiver went down his spine. The heat from your palm was felt through his boxers. Your hand was barely big enough to cover it. Before either of you was prepared for it, he flipped you on your back. His hands sat on either side of your head while yours removed him from his boxers. He was so big.

You tore your gaze away from his cock to meet his gaze. He still looked at you the same. Pupils widened from lust, cheeks with a slightly pink tinge, lips puffy, eyes looking down at you with the same look they always had. It's then he leans down to kiss you for the millionth time. No urgency, less messy, a kiss like he was trying to wake you from a thousand-year slumber.

Your hand still on his cock, you pumped it a few times, swiping your thumb against his tip to lubricate his dick. He groaned into your mouth, humming in pleasure. You try to line him up to sink in your hole, but he slaps you on the wrist. "Don't want your cunt tonight," he mumbled in between kisses, "Jus' let me feel you."

He pumped his cock a few times before slotting it in between the meat of your thighs. The veins and ridges of his dick would occasionally slide between your folds, but that wasn't the focus. No matter how much you wiggled for him to plant his cock so far deep it kissed your cervix, you were ignored as he squeezed your thighs together, panting as he fucked them.

The juxtaposition made your head dizzy. The softness with which he kissed you and the fervor of his dick between your thighs, them getting wetter with the accumulation of precum leaking from his dick. It only forced him to press harder, leaving handprints from how hard he gripped. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you." He sighed out, his pace still even but his breaths far from it. "Go ahead and touch that pretty cunt f' me."

As much as your brain wasn't working, it wasn't needed to do what you were told. Bleary-headed, your hand traveled from the outside of your leg to between your folds. Still wet from your previous orgasm, it didn't take much to just slip a couple fingers in, moaning as you did. One hand toyed with your tit as the other toyed with your clit, your hips wanting to buck into your hand had it not been for Spike's palm on your stomach.

Had he had the composure, he would have made some sarcastic comment. Slow down, love, what's the rush, is what he would've said had his thrusts not been as sloppy as they were. He pulled away from your lips to see the mess he was making. White beads pooled on the skin of your stomach, dripping down your thighs like liquid pearls. And you. Low warm light bouncing off your skin, lip tucked in your teeth, staring right up at him. It took all of him not to cum at the sight.

Not before you did, he decided, which by the way your moans pitched up wasn't that far away. Each "accidental" slide into you was met with a jerk of your hips. "Stop it", you squealed, the bucking of your hips screaming otherwise.

"Feels too good, doesn't it." Then he did it again. His large hand drifts around before grabbing your abandoned tit, groping it until you hit your limit again. Your chest heaved unevenly as you tried to catch your breath as Spike's hips sped up, stuttered, then stopped as his cum splashed on your stomach and breasts.

Spent and not knowing what to do, he kisses you again. He smiles into it, and to his surprise, you do too. Like it was the only thing that made sense to do. The fuzz gradually fades from your mind, the noise from the multiple fans running and the faint humming of electricity apparent again. There's a breeze coming in from your window and you giggle.

"Are you still cold?"

#btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #btvs smut #spike btvs fanfiction #spike btvs smut #spike x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #spike smut #spike btvs #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine #buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #buffy the vampire slayer smut

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cooneyscross · 7 months ago

Text

odio amarte

Alexia Putellas x Lionesses!reader

summary: All of your Barca teammates think you and Alexia need to get together, but the two of you are 'enemies'.

(i do not speak much Spanish, so if some of my translations are wrong I apologise!)

a/n: not proof read or edited and very short

'What is wrong with you Alexia!' You exclaim when the Spanish girl spills her cup of coffee all over the table, the brown liquid smudging your notes that you had been working on forever.

She looks up to you and sends you a dirty glare. 'It's not my fault that you've taken up the whole table with your stupid homework meaning I had no where to put my cup.' She snaps back gesturing to the mess you had created everywhere.

'You could've just asked me to move some stuff.' You tell her sighing as you try to make out the messed up words. 'Or do I scare you to much?' You tease a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

'¿alguna vez te callaste?' (do you ever shut up?) she mutters walking away into the kitchen leaving you alone to try and clean up her mess.

No one really knew why you and Alexia despised each other so much, some of the fans thought it was because Alexia was scared that you would replace her on the team and others would make up crazy rumours that were definitely untrue.

You're teammates didn't have a clue and to be fair neither did you. You hated Alexia because she had always been mean to you, and you had no idea why. If you were entirely honest you didn't really hate the girl, you often found yourself enjoying the attention she gave to you whenever you two were arguing.

After a while of rewriting your notes you placed them all in a neat pile and stood up stretching your back. You're teammates had left to go to the shops about an hour ago, leaving you and Alexia home alone together. They were meant to be back soon but you still had some time to kill and decided to do one of your favourite things.

Annoying Alexia.

You wonder into the living room of your and Keira's shared apartment, sitting on the armchair next to the couch where Alexia was already sitting, her eyes glued to her phone.

The Spaniard hated it when you would bite your teeth, a nasty habit you often found yourself absentmindedly doing.

This time however, you purposely starting chewing on your nails. Pretending to stare out the window, when in reality you were staring at the blonde girl on your couch, a grin forming on your face when she noticed your actions and her jaw tensed.

Her mouth stayed shut though, not wanting to give you the reaction you clearly wanted.

Alexia had not known you for very long, but in the time you had been teammates at Barca your relationship had been rocky to say the least.

She was entirely to blame for your constant bickering, she was the one who hadn't even bothered being nice when you'd approached her on your first training session.

Alexia did feel bad for how rude she had been to you, but once she had began and you had retaliated she couldn't back down and seem like a coward in front of you.

That would be humiliating.

On your first day, Alexia was late, but you'd immediately caught her attention. You'd only been there for a few hours but you already seemed so comfortable talking with all the girls like you'd known them for ages.

You'd already had Alexia hooked and she didn't like that. She didn't like the way that her heart would race whenever you laughed or the way she'd look in the mirror to checked how she looked whenever you walked closer.

In all honesty she was scared of her feelings.

She felt like a stranger in her own body, completely foreign to all the feelings she was experiencing.

She'd never felt this way before for someone she'd only just met.

It didn't seem like it at all. But those feelings had stuck with her for almost a year and a half now.

She hid it behind every insult and eye roll. She'd blame it on her anger whenever her cheeks flushed red at something you did.

But the Spanish captain was still yet to react to your nail biting, which was unusual for her, and you're nails were beginning to bleed from biting them for too long.

Disappointed in the result, you decided not to back down just yet, starting to make clicking noises with your tongue knowing that it always drove Alexia crazy.

It only took a few seconds for her turn around and face you. 'I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work.' She snaps making you grin as your plan had worked.

'Are you sure about that?' You tease, making her roll her eyes and huff as you begin clicking your tongue even more.

'odio amarte!' (i hate that i love you) she groans hands flying up to her hair.

All of a sudden your clicking stops and your whole face burns bright red. You didn't know a lot of Spanish as you sucked at learning languages but you'd learnt quite a bit from just hanging out with the other girls.

You thought you hadn't heard her right. Surely she wouldn't say something like that right? You must've translated it all wrong.

Alexia had noticed the way you'd frozen up and how a light blush painted your cheeks.

'Alexia?' You questioned, voice weak and quiet not quite processing what she had just said. 'Why did you say that?'

Her eyes widened and all of a sudden the normally cool and composed Spanish captain felt sick. She was so used to muttering stuff in Spanish around you that she'd forgotten you actually did know a fair bit.

'Nothing.' She said but it didn't matter, you both knew exactly what she had said and now all insults were long gone, instead you sat in an awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to take a big risk; 'Do you mean it?'

Alexia didn't know how to respond, she couldn't really say that no, but she also didn't want to confess the truth.

'I-I guess...' She stutters her cheeks permanently pink. 'I guess that I do.'

You were in shock for a while not knowing how to respond.

Alexia didn't know what to do either. She don't know what made her get up from her seat and do the one thing she never thought she'd do.

She kissed Y/N L/N...

'I keep finding new ways to stuff up don't I?' Alexia sighed when she pulled away from the kiss.

'No.' You say, putting your fingers up to her lip. 'You didn't.'

'I didn't what?' Alexia says shocked, looking at you with wide eyes. Not believing what you had just said.

'You didn't mess up.' You said sternly, placing your hand on her shoulders and looking at her in the eyes 'Not even a little bit.'

'You sure?' Alexia asks you, looking down and biting her lip in nervousness.

'I think I'm sure.' You say, a small and nervous smile on your face. 'As long as you don't regret doing it.'

'I don't' Alexia exclaimed a little too loudly causing you to move a little bit away from her due to the loudness of her voice.

'I'm sorry.' She said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing the back of her head.

'Don't worry about it.' You smile a small laugh also escaping from your lips.

'No really I'm sorry.' Alexia says, her mood changing to much more serious 'I'm sorry for being a dickhead for the past year, I shouldn't have been that rude to you.'

'I mean, I was rude as well, you're not the only one at fault here.' You laugh lightly.

'No, you were only like that because I didn't give you a proper chance and I'm sorry.' She says, looking genuinely sad.

_______

Meanwhile, Keira, Lucy, Ingrid and Mapi were all walking home from the shops together. Mapi slower than the others as she had been forced to carry all the bags.

'I wonder how Y/n and Alexia are?' Keira wonders, everyone knowing how much you to argue. 'Probably wasn't the best idea to leave the two of them alone together.'

'y/n/n had uni work and Alexia said she'll stay and make sure she's alright.' Lucy states 'Half the time I can't tell if they're fighting or flirting, it's kind of funny. I wonder who'll make the first move.'

'Let's just hope they're not at each others throats again. I hate when they fight.' Ingrid sighs, taking a bag of Mapi after noticing her struggling.

'I agree, when they fight they're one step away from getting together. I don't think I can handle anymore of their longing stares at each other when they think no one is looking. The two of them cause most of my stress now.' Keira sighs, shaking her head.

The English midfielder sticks her key into the lock of your shared apartment when the four footballers arrive opening the door and walking in.

They all make their way to the living room. Absolutely nothing prepared them for what they were about to see.

Sitting on the couch, Alexia Putellas and Y/N L/N were at each others throats. But not in the fighting way. Keira choked on her own saliva in shock, Lucy and Ingrid gasped and Mapi just yelled.

'¡mis ojos!' (my eyes) Mapi exclaimed, startling you and Alexia causing you to pull away from each other. Blushes covering both of your faces.

'Surprise?' You say sheepishly.

part 2?

sorry this isn't the best

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #lionesses #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #spainwnt #barca femeni #lucy bronze #keira walsh #mapi leon #ingrid engen

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tan1shere · 5 months ago

Note

I HAVE A..A FUN LITTLE IDEA!

what if sugar mommy billie x sugarbaby reader and like billie loves buying things for reader and loves just buying stuff for her and reader is kinda a bimbo but the public thinks they are polar opposite best friends. not knowing that same night reader put lingerie on that billie bought for her and billie tear it off to eat her out then later fuck her (with strap)

crazy big brain moment when thinking about if i should be a sugar baby or not

A Little Secret

Sugar mommy Billie Eilish x sugar baby fem reader !

A/n: duhrrr omg I adore this, and GURL you're so very real for that last statement 😫 I really hope I did a good job !!!! And that you like it 😊

Summary: it was all top secret what you and billie truly were. Definitely not just friends.

Warnings: Slight age difference ? (B30,R21) fingerings, eating out, let me know if i missed anything !!

Masterlist

You could come out and just say that the two of you are dating. But people would soon realize there was something more going on. So. You both had to keep it as secret as possible. Not to mention how obvious the age gap was.

And you managed to, it was especially hard when you wanted to post and flaunt all the pretty gifts she'd get you. All you wanted to do was show how thankful you were of her. You wanted to show her off even if the situation wasn't as normal so you two see it. But you both didn't care, you were insanely happy.

One day you were getting ready to go out to the mall. You open your car door to be met with some roses and a prezzie. With a note from Billie saying.

"I wanna be the reason you slightly tilt your phone away from others when you read it" - Have a good day sweet angel ;)

That was a constant thing she'd do, leaving gifts for you, especially with a cheeky note.

"Hey Bub, look what I got." She says with the widest grin. "Whatcha get." You say sitting up from the couch. She had a black handbag in hand, it was beautiful. She turns it around, smirking as your eyes gleam at the designer symbol. You look at her, looking at that sexy smirk of hers, her eyes. You quite literally pounce at her, kissing her lips. "This is gorgeous Bill!" You beamed as you go to grab it, looking at it. The compartments.

"Exactly like you baby." You blush ever so slightly, as you keep looking at it. You were truly mesmerized. "You can use it for our date night tomorrow." She then says leaning on the couch. "Where are we going!?" You had so much enthusiasm she adored it. It made her feel truly happy. "It's a surprise my love." You sit there and think for a moment. "Alright, but I know wherever it is I'll love it." She smiles more. "I know you will."

Tonight was the night, you were currently in the bathroom lining your lips before you put the soft red lipstick on. She comes up behind you, kissing your neck. "You look so good. Smell great too." You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "So do you!" She soon looks at you through the mirror. "Kinda don't even want to go for food now, I mean. You look pretty tasty." She bites your neck, causing another giggle to rumble from you. "Bill." - "You'll be calling me something completely different by the time I'm done with you."

A blush spreads widely across your cheeks, even more considering the slight blush you already wore. She then turns you around once your lipstick was applied. Grabbing your hand gently and kissing it. "Howd I get so lucky. Daym." You kiss her cheek. "I'm so grateful for you." You say sweetly. "Ready?" You nod as she takes your hand in hers again, taking you to the car.

The place she took you to was beautiful, the building was dimly lit. Only source of light was coming from a few on the ceiling, and the tall, skinny candles on the tables. You and Billie sit down, tucking your feet under the red velvet table cloth. Billie would always make sure the places she took you to were secluded. Just in case any eyes saw. Of course it could've been just two friends. But with the way you two were both dressed, a blind man would spot that from a mile away.

The evening was great, everything so still, calm and quiet. Soaking up the luxury of the building and the atmosphere. When you were both ready to go she grabs your hand leading you out to the car, like always she opens the door for you. Letting you get in before it closes, and she's making her way to the driver's side.

The ride is peaceful you had the window rolled down enjoy the slight breeze. You then get the idea to stick your head out, maneuvering your body out of the seat belt, having your back slightly out of the car. Having it rest there. Your hands grip the upper part of the car, leaning your head back as the wind blows through your hair. But as you got into the position you're in currently. You were unaware of the fact your dress had ridden up ever so slightly. Giving Billie the most perfect view of your black lace underwear.

Specifically the ones she bought you just recently. You hadn't worn them yet so it cones as a surprise to her eyes. She had to stay focused on driving but God how it hugged your pussy so delicately. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She eventually did, knowing you guys were almost home. The things this woman was about to do. She truly wasn't kidding earlier on.

That's exactly how you ended up here, sprawled on the black fuzzy sheets. The softness of the fabric against you skin only adding to Billies actions. Which currently was teasing. Your whine was heard for maybe the 5th time now. But she needed to savor this. Your taste your scent. Her face was right infront of your cunt, having her nose bump your clit purposefully. Sending you absolutely mental.

"Billie-" Your whiney voice echoed throughout her ears, her mind. Her soul. And all movement stops. Her eyes look straight up at you warningly. Your breath only gets caught in your throat, knowing where you fucked up. But too fucked out to correct. Her figure was still as anything, awaiting the propper words. Until you're whining again. Her head just shakes.

"That's no way to talk to me sweetheart." Her finger taps your thigh gently. "Do you not want this?" She knew damn well you did, but she needed you to say the word, needed you to address her properly.

"What do you call me baby. Go on, be good."

A small whimper is heard. Her finger slowly coming in line with your entrance making you snap out of your dazed state.

"Mommy."

"Louder." Her finger slides into you.

"Mommy!" You screech slightly, having your mouth hang open.

"Good. Girl."

She notices your reaction as she kisses around your pussy. "Don't forget to breathe." She whispers sexily, so slow with her words too. Her own breath fanning against the skin of your swollen cunt.

And that's all it took, for her fingers to move so insanely fast inside you. Her mouth coming to suck on your pussy lips, biting just a tiny bit. Your head flew back again, eventually feeling her soft hands move up your torso, so slowly, every action. Reaching a breast and squeezing. Your head starts to spin, her movements rapid.

Everything was happening in the speed of light as your orgasm approaches quick. Sending your head right back into the pillows as her tongue relentlessly moves against your clit. "Mommy, please let me cum.. please." Your breath was nothing but short finding any thought in your brain to be dead. She hums against you the vibrations not helping with the fact you had to hold on, until she grants you that permission you so helplessly need. "Mommy!" You scream out. "Cum." She growls against you.

Billie was so caught up in it she actually hadn't heard your voice asking. Her hands were gripped tightly around your thighs most definitely creating a mark. The way you smelt was like a drug, addictive. And the taste she could already feel on the tip of her tongue. "Need more." She then moans into you, desperate to taste you properly. You hadn't even overcome the last euphoric feeling.

When you feel her tongue stick deep inside you. Your eyes roll all the way back at this new feeling, her tongue was so warm and wet. Mixing with your previous orgasm. The way you tasted makes her own eyes roll back. If anything she was enjoying this more than you. Not to say you weren't, wriggling with pleasure underneath her. "T-too m-uhg!" A moan gets caught along your words as her finger move to spread your folds open, wide. Her tongue moving in and out of you faster. You were so loose currently and she was adoring it.

Loving how easily her tongue was slipping in. Your hole feeling stretched around her tongue. You begin to shake as the second one is coming, her nose bumping your clit as she moves. Making your brain fuzz over with pure pleasure. You gush into her mouth having her drink you like a thirsty dog, your body giving out in the process. She could care less that you didn't ask. Cuz like an addict she's not stopping tonight. Or ever.

She was going to drink you dry.

#billie #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish x y/n

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porkcutletbowl44 · 4 months ago

Text

Movie night gone... Right?

Simon Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: NSFW. MDNI🔞. Size kink, mask kink, rough sex, primal play, bondage, dom Simon, unprotected p in v sex, spanking, mention of anal, after care, fluff.

WAKE UP YALL ITS HALLOWEEN!!!!!(i did not proof read apologies)

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Movie nights were a special occasion, just you and Simon, snacks, cuddling, and whatever new movie was out. Or in this case, it's slasher night, something you thought Simon would appreciate greatly, or even explain a bunch of things.

Everything is perfect tonight, your fuzzy socks, fresh popcorn, the man you love, except...

"Thas not 'ow this works. Not accurate." Simon criticized for the millionth time. "Fuckin' hell this is so boring."

"I feel like you'd be able to make a pretty sick scary movie," you commented lightheartedly, adjusting your bowl of popcorn on your legs.

"Y'think so?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, he leaned back in his spot, turning his body to you.

He'd been in the middle of a rant about the things that didn't add up with slashers or murder mysteries, 'not enough blood, too much blood, that knife wouldn't do that-' quite frankly it was getting annoying.

"I think I 'ave too specific horror movie tastes to actually make somethin'." He explained, crossing his arms before putting some popcorn between his lips.

The scary movie he could make, would be horrifying.

"Well yeah, you know about this kinda stuff...it would be realistic, in a scary way." You nodded.

"Too realistic." He muttered, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "I feel like people would say it's too much, too gory." Simon explained.

The girl in the film was trying to crawl away, dragging herself along the carpet. Michael was slowly following after her, playing with his knife in his hand. Simon shifted forward, groaning to himself in boredom.

"Too much gore? Pfft, only pussies say that." you scoffed, playing off the chills of imagining real gore that he's been through.

"Fair." He grunted, he leaned back, folding one leg over the opposite knee restlessly.

He threw another handful of popcorn into his mouth, eyes glued on the screen. The girl in the film was now at the front door. Michael was just behind her, waiting for her fingers to just slide away from the handle of the front door.

"He could jus' snatch 'er, she's right there." Simon pointed out.

Please shut up, watch the fucking movie...

"He's playin' with his food, an' then he'll kill 'er."

You glanced over at him with wide eyes, you love him to death, but sometimes (everyday) you have this 'what the fuck' moment.

"I swear you'd be a serial killer in a different world." You mumbled under your breath.

"Or even this one." He whispered back, he leaned back restlessly, folding his arms across his chest.

What the fuck, Simon.

"He could've grabbed 'er by now. It's annoyin'." Simon sighed heavily, glancing at the corner of his eyes at you.

You laughed now, laying your head on his shoulder.

"Y'know what movies freak me out?" You quip.

"What?" He mumbled, his brain rotting from the slasher movie in front of his eyes, that he claims to be so boring.

The girl was trying desperately to pry her fingers from the handle of the front door. She'd almost did it before Michael snatched her wrist, his other hand wrapping around her mouth and squeezing. In the film, she was shaking her head frantically, her screams muffled by Michael's hand.

"Found footage movies." You answered with a knowing smile.

"'Cause they are more realistic, yeah?" He shifted his position so that his arm would go around you, he pulled you to him and then he turned his head to look at you.

"Yeah, and just creepy in general." You added, shifting your folded knees on his lap.

"I could make a found footage movie." He thought over, eyes softening down at you.

He squeezed your torso into his side, pulling your legs over his lap for you to curl up against his form comfortably. Another thing about movie nights, an excuse to be up his ass. He's so warm and comfortable, sure your arms couldn't go all the way around his bulky waist but holding is holding.

"You're my muse." He mumbled against your crown.

You smiled fondly, happily nuzzling into soft and firm structures of his beefy body.

"Think found footage would be a little harder for you to make, you'd have to have footage on an old ass camera."

"True." He mumbled, brushing his hands through your hair.

The girl in the film is crying while Michael drags her away. Simon rolls his eyes,

"I've seen the real thing." He muttered exasperatedly.

"Have you? Then is this realistic?" You asked curiously, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Too realistic."

Even the sound of the girl trying to scream sounded accurate to you. The only thing they got wrong was the amount of blood.

"She'd be dead by now." He commented in complete monotone.

"Well it is for the movie, but I think I get what you're saying. Why mess around to add more fear? Doesn't make sense." You agreed to get him to shut the fuck up.

"’Cause they need to extend it, make it longer."

The girl was screaming and crying, trying to pull away from Michael's grip, dragging her up the stairs and out of view.

"Are there any accurate gore movies?" You asked him, looking back at the movie.

That would be scary, being dragged around by a giant ass serial killer.

"Probably not." He mumbled.

His body heat was seeping through his clothing, making you feel warm and fuzzy on his lap. He was always so warm, it wasn't fair.

"Most o' the time they exaggerate the amount o' blood." He explained, glancing at the screen here and there.

"A shame," You sighed out, resting your head back on his shoulder, pulling your fluffy blanket up to your chin.

The girl was still crying, her screams were muffled as her legs dragged against the carpet stairs. Michael was now tying rope onto the girl's leg before dragging her into a bedroom.

"'M bored." Simon mumbled, he stretched his legs out, one of his massive paws on your thigh.

"Wanna watch a different movie?" You asked, yawning.

"Sure." He mumbled, his hands on your thighs shifted upwards.

He was now petting your thighs, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips. The girl in the film was trying to escape, to wiggle away from Michael, she had gotten free from his grip.

"Finally." Simon mumbled, his eyes on the screen.

The girl was in the woods, crying as she stumbled and sprinted, screaming bloody murder.

"There's no way that's the fastest she could run, if that were me I'd be gone." you pointed with frustration.

"Same." He murmured, his eyes watching the film with minor interest.

The girl ran into the darkness of the forest, tipping and getting caught on spider webs with loud flailing.

Simon groans in annoyance, "She's not goin' in a straight line, she's gonna die."

The camera pans to her face, and when she turns around Michael is right there with loud music. You jumped with a choked gasp,

"Jesus—that got me. Wasn't expecting that." You huffed.

"She's dead." Simon stated, giving your thighs a pat.

The girl collapsed on the ground, her screams were muffled by the music and other sounds around her as her killer got ready to seal her fate.

"Shouldn't 'ave gone towards the woods." Simon mumbled smugly with a chuckle.

"What are you talking about? The woods is the best place to run away. Too vast," You stated back with confusion.

"Are you kiddin'?" Simon scoffed, "The woods is a killer's dream spot." He explained.

The girl in the film was crying loudly, crawling away, desperately trying to escape Michael's grip.

"You're isolated, it's night time- the darkness is his friend. The woods make a lot o' sounds, you 'ave t'be super alert." Simon pointed out, he shifted his eyes back to the screen.

"Yeah, but you could run anywhere. You'd never be lucky enough to make a guess at where they are," You countered.

He let out a small laugh, "But only the killer needs t'be lucky one." Simon pointed out. "He can track your footsteps jus' from the sound o' leaves." He added.

The girl in the film was dragging herself away from Michael, he was following her slowly, deadly.

"He has an edge, it's his terrain. An' he knows it." Simon explained.

You snorted, "well, I'm not as dumb as her, I'd be just fine."

Simon hummed, squeezing the inside of your thigh.

"Yeah? Are you willing to test that theory?" He asked.

The girl continued crying loudly, scary music playing as Michaels knife comes into view.

"She thought the exact same thing. That she could run away. But look'it 'er now. On the ground, in the hands o' 'er killer." He smirked.

You sat up a little straighter, a small snicker coming from you. It was always the dumb girls in scary movies that never made it.

"Look at him; he walks everywhere. I could definitely out run Michael Myers."

"You're underestimating him." Simon muttered, he turned his attention away from the film to you. "He's tall, he's strong."

The actor playing Michael was stalking his prey, emotionless white mask with empty eyes. The girl in the film was still trying to crawl away, she was on one knee, pushing herself off of the ground with her hands as she tried to get away.

Imagine back shots in the woods, alone, with an insanely hot guy chasing you. Tall and strong. You eyed him, he was taller than Michael Myers, more muscle on Simon...

"So? I'm quick. I'd never get caught." You replied, basking in the warmth of his body.

"Quicker than a six foot, full grown man? Come on." He scoffed, he looked down into your eyes. "I could catch you easily." He rumbles lowly, vibrating against your shoulder.

The actor portraying Michael was walking faster, god they were dragging this shit out.

"You'd be caught in seconds." He stated.

You shivered. He knew how this worked, that was his job. Tracking people down and catching them.

"You couldn't." You argued back anyway, getting a little more serious

"I could." He insisted. "Y'wouldn't get the chance to run. If y'try, you'll just exhaust yourself, an' the minute you're exhausted. I'll catch ya." He stated easily.

"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, your hand going on top of his that was wrapped around your shoulders.

He smirked, "Wanna test it?" He suggested. "I'll catch you under one minute." He promised.

The camera zoomed in to Michael stalking the girl through the forest, he was approaching her. God damn just catch the annoying chick already and move on.

"The thing with the woods, the noises are unpredictable. You'd need t'listen out for your predator." Simon explained lowly, his hot breath wafting down your neck.

You shivered again.

"You really wanna lose a bet, huh?" You asked suspiciously.

"'M not the one who's gonna lose." He grunted boredly. "Come on. Lemme track you, show me 'ow fast you can run. A million bucks if I win." He suggested, his massive paw moving your hip, his fingers curling around your waist.

"Do I look like I have a million bucks?" You scoffed, glaring softly at him. "I'll agree if you have a better idea of a reward,"

"Name your reward." He shrugged, "I'll catch you in less then a minute." He repeated lower, a challenge.

"Name anythin', I'll get it." The grit in his voice was heavier.

Heat coiled in your belly, your mouth watering and going dry at the same time. You knew what he was thinking. He knew what you were thinking. He knew you knew what he was thinking.

"You catch me, you fuck me." You stated.

"Deal."

You let out a yelp being yanked up from the couch, socks slipping on the floor while dragged to the back door.

It happened so fast.

You were now outside, the night was alive, the moon was full, and the woods were waiting. Simon's hands rested on your shoulders, he looked down at you with that cocky smirk on his lips.

"You ready? Get a 'ead start cause y'ain't gettin' far, lovie." He grunted.

You shivered under his lazy gaze of his eyes, you looked at the forest, a coating of fog on the ground and a bright moon casting shadows.

It was a little eerie... Could you chicken out and have him not tease you for it every chance he got? Unlikely.

"What's...my head start?" You asked, containing the shake in your voice.

His breath was on your neck, the night was cold but his warmth was on your body. Soon, you'll be warm on the inside. He could not be serious; what if you tripped and fell? Sprained your ankle? Broke your ankle? What if you run into a spider web and swallow the spider? What if you get lost?

"Five seconds."

"FIVE?!" You gasped in disbelief of the unfairness, but prey instinct immediately kicked in and you bolted.

You heaved your chest, barely feeling your legs pumping on the ground, littered with leaves and sticks getting stuck to your socks. Great, they were your favorites and now they feel crunchy on your feet. You couldn't even hear him, you had no idea if he was behind you and you were not about to confirm that.

You weave in and out trees and bushes, breathing hard, your socks almost sliding off your feet with sharp turns. You have no plan, no direction, and absolutely no idea what the fuck you are doing.

Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel the cold night air on your skin. The wind whistled through the branches of the trees stood tall and thin. It was really fucking eerie. You did a sharp turn, unsure where he was or what he was doing and jumped over a thick trench with a small stream of water. Oh, lovely! Your socks are wet and muddy now too!

You hear a sound behind you, you don't know what the fuck it is, but you squeak pathetically and closed your eyes while running. Stupid, but you're incredibly scared and horny now. What will he do when he catches you? Will he do that thing he does with the tip or will he skip that and just fuck you silly?

You stopped in a small clearing, panting heavily and looking around to see Simon was nowhere in sight. You took ragged breaths, unable to hear over the sound of your own breathing, the pulse in your ears and your burning lungs, and why not add the aching sides while you're at it?

You jolted at the sound of a cackling coyote, ankles shaking ready to bolt... But where?

His steps weren't heard, he was following the sounds of your breath. The moonlight made it easy for him to track you with his eyes, his footsteps were silent.

He was following you, his eyes were locked onto the clearing. In the moment of silence, he was watching your back, waiting for you to bolt.

You saw a overgrown path and set off in that direction in a lighter sprint. You only had so much of an advantage, you had no clue where the fuck he was. He was surely keeping track of time, the smart fucker, you had a head start and after a minute if you hadn't been caught then you'd win.

The adrenaline pumps into your veins, the fear in your body making me ignore your aching legs but not your wet pussy.

It was scary that Simon did this for his military work, and it terrified you and excited you at the same time, what he would do when he caught you. Arousal was a steady pulse in your pussy, making you almost want to let him win but your pride smacked that away with aggression. Make him work for it.

At moments, you swore you could hear him breathing behind branches, and behind the other obstacles he was using to his advantage. Analyzing the way you were moving, your way of avoiding things, and he was trying to learn from it.

This was his forte, his expertise, you've had a head start but he still had time. You were getting tired, sweat running down your neck as you looked around to a different direction. You were getting slower, the fear was starting to cloud your mind.

The more time went on, the more scared you got.

Maybe he did lose you. Maybe you are lost, maybe he got hurt-

The sound of the wind and the trees moving around were getting louder, the forest was closing in on you. You cursed silently, stopping in your pace at the sound of a brank cracking loudly.

Fear froze you as you looked around the empty forest. Your breathing became louder as the silence took over. Fear hit and you were unable to move, the cold was starting to settle in as the night grew dimmer with the clouds covering the moon.

Suddenly a dull sound broke the eerie silence, making your eyes dart everywhere. You had almost no cover around you as you were in a clearing, in the open. Your eyes were searching for Simon, or something else, but all you could hear was the wind. No bugs. No animals. Nothing.

Okay, not cool, this is getting really scary.

Your heart rattled your chest, but if Simon wasn't in sight then you were safe.

You let out a soft breathy laugh, you actually did it—

"There y'are."

His voice was behind you, his breath on your neck, burly arms snatching you up. You shrieked in surprise, kicking your legs and flexing your arms up against his. No use.

"Y'thought you'd get away?" He grunted, chuckling.

"That's not fair!" You squealed, kicking your legs desperately making one sock go flying.

"Who said anythin' 'bout fair?" He teased, letting out a gruff, dark chuckle into your neck. "The deal still stands. An' guess what?" He whispered.

You breathed heavily, looking up at him wide eyed and exhausted. A rush of excitement flooded your mind, but at the same time,

"R-Right here?" You questioned, being pressed against a tree.

"Right 'ere." He growled.

His grip was strong and firm trapping your body between him and the tree. He looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes, barely breathing heavy behind the balaclava. You whined softly, clenching your legs together under his predatory gaze.

"Spread them." He demanded harshly, never faltering once as he held you still. "I told you I'd catch you. An' I've kept my word so far." He snickered.

He moved his hands to your thighs, spreading your legs apart. You whimpered, soaked through the thin shorts, cheeks flushing heavily at his discovery.

"Thas it." He murmured, his breath hot as it brushed against your neck.

His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers curling and squeezing them, spreading them apart around his broad hips. His hand ran down against the slick wetness on your thigh, making him growl softly, noticing how excited you were and absolutely nothing happened. He shoves your shorts and panties to the side,

"Do you 'ave any idea 'ow wet y'are right now?" He breathed, eyebrows pinching with a groan.

The pressure of his hands was light as he used them to hold you in place, his grip was stronger around your waist.

"You've only been chased for a minute." He mocked.

You shook your head, at both of his sentences because it did not feel like a minute. You squirmed in his hold, not appreciating the way his fingers parted your pussy lips in the cold air.

"Don't move." He growls.

He slowly slid his hands up your thighs, your body was twitching as it reacted to him touching you. He pulls his balaclava up, fiercely kissing you. His tongue invades your mouth, barely giving you time to react as he nips down on your lip. Rinse and Repeat. He squeezes your jaw, lips devouring, spit smearing, groaning and moaning into each other. He gropes your breast, His tongue pushing your back to get every taste he could get.

"Look at you. You're an obedient little thing." he murmured in satisfaction.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, just hearing him breathe heavily down at you made you whine in want and need. He tuts, meeting your gaze through your lashes,

"Such a pretty thing." He grunted, giving your ass cheek a sharp smack.

You squeal, his body pressing into you, the tree bark digging into your back.

"Now don't move." He whispered roughly.

His fingers reached inwards, his thumb teasing your drooling slit to feel the way it flutters and tries to suck him in, coaxing something bigger, something you want more than fingers. He groans raggedly, bringing his thumb up to lick it clean.

He yanks you forward, shoved to your knees and chest to the ground. His calloused hands pinned your wrists above your head, shorts and panties aggressively shoved down exposed to the cold night air. Pine needles dug into your knees and forearms uncomfortably. You whimpered, feeling his gaze to your bare cunt in a rather exposed way.

"Good girl." His voice was rough, it carried a smirk on it as he leered at you.

He spreads your cheeks with a harsh knead, pushing them up to arch your back. He had a very good view of your pussy and ass, and the cocky bastard was taking he sweet ass time.

You keened, shoving your hips back into him, "Simon," You pleaded, overwhelmingly turned on from the chase and embarrassed to what he was doing.

"I know what y'want." He grunted.

His hand on your ass squeezed as his grip on your wrists pushed them further above your head, stretching your back out.

"But you 'ave to be obedient an' patient." He warns, his breathing rapid and hot at how great this was about to be.

Your back arched more, you whine long and deep from your chest. You didn't even care about the bet, you just wanted him, you wanted him to claim you again like every other night, but with this situation it was different, new.

You grinded back on him mindlessly, barely scraping against his clothed cock.

"Such a needy thing." He hisses with a small scoff.

He began to spread your legs wide, his fingers digging into your thighs as he gripped them tightly to get all the space he needs. The sound of his zipper screaming rips through the night, his jeans hitting the ground was loud, belt buckle cold against the back of your thigh. His blunt cock head rubs against the length of your cunt, gathering all your slick on his girth.

He smirked, his head tilted to the side as he watched your pretty hole flutter, you were trying your hardest not to moan. The cold belt leaves your skin, looping around your wrists for Simon to hold into the ground.

"There's no one 'ere to hear you. No need t'be quiet." He coos, almost meanly.

You feel the ridge of his frenulum rut between your ass cheeks, catching on your rim, drooling pre cum dripping on your skin, you moan out loud in a sound you've never heard yourself make. He thrusts a few more times, balls teasing your throbbing clit.

"Yeah? like that? Could take this hole too, you'd like that? Wouldn't you, lovie?" He pants, bringing a hand down on your ass.

He chuckles at your broken mewl, dragging his cock away to your pussy, "Wanna feel 'er first. I'll take your tight little ass later, yeah?"

He notches his tip to your slit, thrusting shallowly to work himself until he can send it home. The stretch is always the tedious part with him, your walls are pulled taut to their limit. You let out breathy moans, your ass bouncing on his hips with the rocking movement sending the pine needles deeper into your skin. You were sure there would be indentions but you could give a fuck less with good dicking.

"Good girl." He growled, enjoying seeing you exposed to him, still in shock from the chase.

Your ass swayed back and forth, rippling, jolting, it was one of his favorite feelings, it was hot. His breath was hot as was yours, his hand gripping your wrists so hard that it was almost painful.

"Yes..Yes...mh...Yes," You chanted breathily, meeting his movement greedily.

"Such a good fuckin' girl." He groaned.

He leans forward, nipping and sucking at your neck with needy growls as he buries his cock to the hilt in your cunt.

You didn't know why you even agreed to try this bet, you never would have lasted long anyway. A trained predator against you? You must of been sloppy, too easy for him, an easy prize for his taking. You knew Simon wouldn't ever hurt you, but how eerie he looked with his skull mask, stalking you through the dark woods? That was so fucking hot.

"Y'think you'd escape me?" He whispered harshly into your ear, his thumb rubbing his tacky pre over your rim, breaching through ever so slightly.

The feel of his breath on your skin made your body shudder, your eyes roll, drool leak from your lips. He laughed softly as his hands tightened around your wrists, the pressure was hurting you almost but you didn't say anything, you couldn't, his cock battering your cervix, balls slapping your clit roughly.

You whimpered in response, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks unable to form any coherent words.

"Aww." he scoffs, rutting into you harder. "Such a needy girl." He murmured as he squeezed your wrists together brutally, growling and groaning into your neck, skin between his teeth.

"O-Oh god-" You gasp, clenching tight around him.

The semi-stimulation to your clit, the soft burn of the stretch, the rough hair at the base of his cock against your skin, it's fucking heaven. He fucks into you roughly, an almost growly throaty groan ripping from him as his hips snap one last time against you, rapidly rubbing his fingers to your swollen bud side to side-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moan, your spine bowing as he grinds into you with a wet groan, velvet walls convulsing around his spurting cock.

He stays pressed into you, breathing against your shoulder. You feel light. Weightless. Like you could float away into the sky. Your arms tingle, your knees are numb, your thighs burn, your ass stings.

He pulls out, goosebumps surging across your skin at the loss of heat. He uses his thumb to spread your fluttering hole open in the moonlight, purring as his cum pearls into sight, dropping to the ground in thick lumps. He scoops some up, gently prodding it back inside with a whimper from you.

Simon had carried you after the "date night activities as a result of movie night", he sat you down in the showers and washed you. He then helped you get into a nice hot bath, the heat helped soothe your soreness, the nice bubbly water washing your body clean of dirt and dead leaves paired with his extra sweet soft kisses.

He got you all nice and clean, changed your clothes and he was even kind enough to make you hot chocolate with some extra snacks. He cuddled you up on a couch, the warm blanket was wrapped around you as he held you, head on his chest.

You requested a calmer movie for movie night, agreeing on Avengers for the time being.

"I'd hate being the war criminal you have to chase," You murmured against the rim of your mug, eyes trained in the movie.

It was scary, being chased by a dangerous man even if he had zero intentions of harming you specifically. At least you got a good dicking down, from the man you love.

"Hm." He murmured, his body slightly rocking you as you watched the movie.

He smirked at your statement, his hand was playing with your hair as you focused on the movie.

"It's not scary at all." He murmured softly.

"That's not fair to me though..." You pouted. "I'm not experienced in that stuff."

"The chase was t'see 'ow fast I could catch you." He kept his eyes on the television when he spoke to you.

His grip was tight as he didn't want you to move from him as he pulled you under his arm again.

"An' it makes it much more fun." He smiled. "No excuses." His voice was a tease, a play on words but deep down it was still teasing at you.

"it was still unfair." You grumbled back, turning your head.

He purrs, glancing at the marks on your neck before letting out a small huff. "They look adorable on ya." He whispered, a smirk on his face as he saw you flaunt them.

He turned his eyes ahead, he wasn't looking at you, instead he was looking at the television. You pouted again, your back and knees still sore. You slumped your head on his chest. He kept his eyes on the television, hand playing with your hair, his gaze glued to the screen as he held.

"I can't imagine what those guys think when you track them.." You mumbled softly, throat going dry remembering Simon's military work

"Some o' them shit themselves. The others think that they are bein' tracked by the boogeyman." Simon snorted as he spoke, half watching television and half focusing on you.

"I wonder what they would do if they found out that your girlfriend makes you do skin care." You snickered to yourself.

"Hmph." Simon snorted and laughed, "Shut up." He murmured, his voice carried no heat in it but a small smirk was on his lips.

Your thoughts still wavered at the fear you felt of being chased, and yet the excitement of knowing what Simon would do to you but... Simon was a pretty dangerous man. The fear of being chased by a man who had zero intentions on harming you had some excitement in it, the feeling of adrenaline was addicting. Your thoughts started to roam freely, the more you thought about it, the more you realize just how dangerous Simon was.

He knew how to hunt people, he did it so smoothly. The thought of it began to scare you yet it turned you on.

You swallowed hard before taking another sip of hot coco. That's enough dick tonight.

You feel Simon's hand gently rub your kneecap, being careful of the sore skin. It felt soothing in a way. He felt guilty, he was too tight, he pushed you too hard, he scared you. This was him processing, beating himself up.

You felt him huff, looking up at him curiously with both blanket covered hands still on your mug.

"Tired?" You questioned, trying to see what was wrong.

"No." Simon answered shortly.

You knew that tone. He didn't want to worry you. His grip on your shoulder was looser, his hand played with your hair as he looked at you.

"Just thinkin' 'bout somethin'." He said, his body was still, his eyes were locked on yours as he spoke.

"What is it?" You asked softly, keeping your attention on him.

"Nothin'." Simon muttered, a little stern, he was lying. "Nothin' at all." He added, lowered to a quiet voice as he lied to you.

"Simon." You deadpanned quietly.

"What." He answered with the same sternness.

"Don't lie." You stated quietly, being serious with your words yet gentle.

"Fine." He mumbles, "I was thinkin' 'bout the fact o' what would happen if I randomly slip into my... work mode around you, I don't want to do that an' scare you accidentally." Simon explained, it was the truth, he was being honest with you for a change.

"Scare me...?" You echoed in a whisper, confusion in your tone as you rested your cheek on his shoulder to listen.

"Yeah, scare you." Simon murmured, it was a possibility.

There were many times where he's had to go into his soldier persona, it was quite a drastic change.

"'M scared that me bein' like that would cause me to scare you an' f'you to become scared o' me." Simon explained.

The idea of you being scared of him was unsettling, and completely impossible. You live with him, the only thing you see of him is his uncaring moods when you get up to shit head activity.

"And you think that's a likely possibility that I would be scared of you?" You pieced together.

Simon nodded slowly. "Yes." Still avoiding eye contact with you.

"I don't think I'd be scared of you. I think it would be fear of your capabilities." You replied, realizing how it probably didn't help the situation. "I mean—what I'm trying to say is I don't think I can be afraid of you for my safety."

"But the thing is..." Simon took a deep breath before continuing, "I- in my work mind, 'm capable o' hurtin' anyone. Anyone." He muttered as his voice lowered a bit more.

"I-I know.." You whispered, listening to him.

Maybe Simon just had to make it known with words that he wouldn't hurt you, just get it in the open and there.

"I won't hurt you. Not ever, I wouldn't even think 'bout it." He was giving you his word that he wouldn't hurt you, not even in his soldier persona.

"I know that, Si." You put your hand on his chest, looking up to his lidded eyes with reassurance.

"But it's still somethin' that bothers me a lot." His gaze locked on yours, his other hand running through your hair softly. "I jus' don't want you t'be scared o' me." He murmured softly.

"I'm not scared. I couldn't be... Not when you're like this." You soothed, your palm rubbing on his pec slowly.

It breaks your heart, the man you love thinking he would hurt you, scare you, after how sweet and caring he actually is.

"But what if I was not like this." Simon considered, "What if 'm 'ome an' suddenly switch on you. Would you still feel safe?

He was looking at you in the eyes as he spoke, you could see how much this mattered to him. This had to be something he had been thinking about for awhile.

"Yes." You answered immediately, soft and truthful without hesitation. "You wouldn't hurt me yourself, meaning you wouldn't let someone else hurt me."

Just the fact that you trusted him so much was a comfort. You knew better, when it came to him.

"No. I wouldn't." He agreed, "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." It was the truth.

He would never let anyone hurt you, he would rather fight off anyone that would dare to harm you.

You finished the rest of your hot coco, setting it on the coffee table and curling under his arms against his chest with a satisfied grunt.

"Comfortable?" He murmured.

It was a very cute sight, you sitting under his arms, almost curled up against him.

His head was still facing the television, his attention was still there to an extent but you were satisfied by the position you were in right now. He tightened his grip on you with one arm as his other arm still played with your hair idly.

You nodded, bringing the blanket up further around your body and tossing some to Simon to share. He grabbed the blanket that you tossed him and he pulled it over his body, tangling his leg between yours.

He kept stroking your hair to your shoulders lovingly with one hand as his eyes stayed glued to the TV screen. His warmth traps under the blanket, that paired with a full belly of snacks and a warm drink? Having a relaxing bath and new clothes after having a mind blowing orgasm?

You fell right asleep in his arms. Where it's safe.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fanfic

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blackwidownat2814 · 6 months ago

Text

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 1408

Summary: You begin your new job as a Tornado Wrangler (remotely), and meet most of the team. It isn't until you suffer a little mishap that you meet the man himself.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to the Prologue!!! I didn't think it'd be that much of a hit, so I was surprised with all the love. After finishing this chapter, I feel like it could've been part of the Prologue, but oh well. It's been a while since I've written as well, so bear with me. As always, thanks to my awesome beta, @buckysdollforlife, for their help with this and for creating the header for this story (I LOVE IT!!!!) and bestie, @13braincellsonly, for allowing me the use of their son's name and personality when I needed to come up with a horse. **All descriptions of Ziggy the horse were approved by his momma.** And as always, I will be cross-posting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen.

City Girl Knows Her Stuff

You became a Wrangler near the end of the season that first year. Kate picked you up at the airport with two members of the team: Lily and Dani. Lily immediately pulled you into a hug, chatting a mile a minute about how excited she was to have you on the team. Dani (perhaps picking up on your shyness) offered a handshake and big smile, welcoming you to Oklahoma. Kate was more than happy to let Dani and Lily talk your ear off on the drive to Sapulpa, where you’d be staying with Cathy until you found a place. She knew it was somewhat difficult for you to make friends, so she was happy to see you enjoying a conversation with two new friends.

You got to meet Dexter when he came by in the van to pick up Lily and Dani. You thought he was funny and enjoyed some very science-centric conversations with him. Before they all left, Lily let you take her drone for a spin. You enjoyed it so much that for your birthday later that year, she gifted you a smaller drone that wasn’t quite like hers, but it had a small camera and small, tinny sounding speaker. She even had it painted in your favorite color. That would become one of your absolute favorite gifts. It made you cry.

Like most storm chasers, you had to have a job in the off season, so you got a remote data analyst job with the NOAA offices in Norman and moved out to a place just out of Sapulpa. This would allow you to visit Cathy at the farm and work on data in the barn workshop the Wranglers had set up. You even got yourself a cat. Abandoned due to his looks and runt status (according to the shelter), you snatched him up the first time you saw him. Black cats didn’t scare you. Life with Roach (you’d spent quite a bit of time watching The Witcher) was idyllic and you were happy.

By the time you met Boone, the Wranglers felt like family…and Boone felt like the brother you never had. Like Boone, you were an only child and didn’t have much of an extended family and it was a bit lonely in the beginning. The difference, however, was that Boone was an outgoing guy and it was easy for him to make friends and talk to people he didn’t know, whereas that scared you half to death most of the time. You loved his boisterous way of being, but you also appreciated that he (like Dani) could tell when your social battery had run down and turned it down and would sometimes sit with you in a quiet environment. Sometimes he’d sit and nap while you read or he’d pick up the latest meteorological article (or sometimes the latest comic he picked up at the shop). He didn’t even make fun of your nickname like others had before, so you trusted him.

The day of Cathy’s pre-tornado season bbq, while cleaning some dishes, you confessed to Boone that you were nervous about meeting the head tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens.

“T’s a sweetheart B, you got nothin’ to worry about. Why are ya nervous?”

“Boone! He doesn’t know me, what if he doesn’t think I’m a right fit for the team? What if he doesn’t like how I do work? Y’all are famous ‘round here, what if he gets irked by the fact that big crowds make me nervous and it takes me forever to become comfortable with people? You know it’s not easy for me to talk to people I’ve never talked to before”, you cried in exasperation.

“B, imma need you to take a breath, okay?” Boone reassured you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “If Ty thought any of those things, I would definitely not be workin’ with ‘em.”

You were so busy trying to get yourself to relax that you missed Kate wandering into the kitchen.

“B, are you freakin’ out about meetin’ Tyler again?” she asked. You and Boone nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry. He won’t be able to come today, said he had to drive down to Texas to see his parents.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, sending some of your hair floating up. “Good, I have time to relax about it. Thanks Kate.”

“Thank Tyler’s parents.”

“Thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Owens!” you said to no one in particular and dried your hands, as you looked over at your friends. “See you two out there!”

Kate and Boone followed, but stayed on the porch, both taking twin sips from their beers.

“You think either of them has any idea what’s about to happen to ‘em?” Boone asked.

“Meaning that Tyler is going to become enamored the second she opens her mouth?”

“Yup.”

“And that she’s going to have the same thing happen to her the second she comes into contact with that cocky cowboy swagger that he exudes when you meet him the first time?”

“Yup.”

“No, I don’t think either of ‘em knows what’s coming.”

A few days before the chasing season began, you brought Roach down to Cathy’s, where he would be staying while you were out with the Wranglers for your first season on the road.

While there, you asked Cathy if you could saddle up your favorite of her horses, Zig, nicknamed Ziggy. He wasn’t the brightest of the bunch; he was the type of horse you’d see in a video because someone thought he was dead but in actuality, he was just sleeping. You swore that his mother, a horse named KJ, rolled her horse eyes every time someone caught him playing dead.

Ziggy may not have been the sharpest pitchfork in the barn, and may not have enjoyed doing much of anything besides looking dead when he slept, but he enjoyed riding through fields with you. He knew whenever he saw you approaching with a bowl that he was about to get one of his favorite snacks: ice cubes with apple bits in them. You put Ziggy’s snack bucket down so he could munch while you brushed him and got him saddled and ready to go for a ride.

When Ziggy let you know that he was done with his snack, you popped in your earbuds and shuffled your favorite classical music playlist on Spotify. You found it was one of your favorite ways to relax. After you climbed on Ziggy’s back, and kicked him into gear, you took off for the open fields near the road leading up to the farm.

You’d been out there for a while when you started hearing the faint rumble of an engine, but ignored it because trucks passed near this area all the time. You probably shouldn’t have ignored it though, because when that modified-to-withstand-tornadoes red Dodge Ram 3500 turned on to the road and took off towards the main house, Ziggy took off after it. By now, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he recognized the truck or the person in it, but you were…and because you were so thrown off by it, your hands (stupidly) had not been holding the reins. And because you had not held on, you went flying off Ziggy’s back while he just followed the familiar truck. Lucky for you, the fall didn’t cause you to go unconscious, but it did knock the wind out of you after you landed hard on your back.

As you attempted to take deep breaths, you heard someone yelling and running towards you, so you tried to sit up. The voice yelled for you to not move, so you listened and stayed on the ground, with your eyes shut. You just lay there, waiting.

All of a sudden:

“Are you okay?” the voice asked. You knew that you knew who the voice belonged to but you were so thrown by being thrown that your brain wasn’t focusing. You blinked your eyes open, and your vision swam before focusing on the most beautiful face.

“Wha-”

“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked as he helped you sit up.

“Uh…”

“Did you black out?”

“No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Cathy’s farm, in Sapulpa.”

“Do you know your name?” He smiled when you told him. “Where’d you come in from?”

“New York City.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m the new data analyst for the Wranglers.”

“Well…looks like we got another city girl that knows her stuff.”

Tagging: @ladybirdbeetle7 @omgbrianab @itsdesiree86 @avengersfan25 @keyrani @thedonswife13 @lonelyghosts-stuff

DON'T FORGET TO LIKE AND REBLOG!!!!

Main Masterlist

#Series: Steal My Thunder #Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x female reader #Tyler Owens x shy!reader #Tyler Owens x insecure!reader #Tyler Owens fanfiction

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l0v3-qu4rtz · 6 months ago

Text

Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Model!Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. (very badly written) SMUT. MDNI, thank you. very poor description of model shows, talks of lingerie, cursing, rough sex (?), light choking and hair pulling, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, teasing derek at the end. Kinda proofread ? Not rlly.

A/N: Hiyo, so i posted this like a long time ago (a month ago) on AO3 but I just decided to post this on here now because why nott ?? Lemme know what you think, and if I missed any warning please lemmeee knowww, also should I make this a series ???!!!! <333

You stood behind the curtains backstage, anxiously peeking through, towards the crowd. You look down at your phone, "on my way, I'll be there in 30 minutes" It's been 40 minutes, where is he ? you knew dating an FBI agent that his schedule was gonna be busy but you've been telling him about the show for weeks, he promised he would make it. You were out in 5 minutes and still didn't spot him. You were tempted to call him, ask him where he was, but decided against it. Your manager was rushing you to get in position to walk out but you were stalling as much as you could in hopes that Reid would magically show up. 4 minutes now.

YOU: Where are you ? I'm out in 4 minutes.

SPENCE: Im here, love. Backrow.

You felt your heart coo at the petame. You heard your manager yell for you to get in position for one last time, you rushed into position, handing our phone over to your manager. You specifically asked Reid to come because it was a lingerie fashion show. Think Victoria Secret, You knew Spencer would go crazy upon seeing you in lace and ribbons, you were giddy with excitement as you think about walking past him, you knew what he was risking coming to your shows so you wanted to make it all worth it. You heard the show director counting down as you take your robe off and adjust your hair and accessories. You put on your best poker face and start walk.

Walk, just walk. Look straight ahead, don't turn your head. Do not go looking for him. You repeated in your mind, each step you took making a direct impact with the runway. Your arms swaying back and forth, hips swaying. You were extra nervous, this was the first time Spencer finally agreed to come to one of your shows and your heart could've jumped out of your chest knowing this. You kept everything on beat, from your steps to your hip sways. Once you reached the end of the runway, you put your hand on your hip as you shift your weight onto one foot, flashing a smile occupied with a quick wink before turning around walking back.

You finally notice Reid in the back row as he said, making direct eye contact with him for only a split second before looking forward again.

From Reids point of view, once you made eye contact with him, he knew he was done for. He attempted to keep his composure, legs crossed, his hand on his chin, but inside a small fire was lit inside him that only grew brighter and bigger with each step you took. As the show reached the end, and you did the final end walk with the rest of the models, Reid was completely captivated by your walk, the way your hair bounced with each walk, the way your hips swayed, how you walked in a perfect straight line. Spencer knew he had to get his hands on you, and it was a craving he had to satisfy as quick as possible. Backstage, you decided to just put your long coat over your robe as you gathered your belongings together and talk with your manager.

"Oh by the way, heres your phone" He says as he pulls your phone out of his pocket. "You got some very interesting texts, lets just say"

You roll your eyes at his teasing remarks. You open your phone and see two messages from Spencer.

SPENCE: You knew what you were doing by inviting me to this show.

SPENCE: I'm waiting outside for you in the car.

You smile, biting your lip as you read the texts. You gather your stuff and say bye to your manager before heading out. You spot Reid's car and rush over to it, your slippers hitting the concrete. You enter the car, Reid giving a small smile as you enter. You greet him but receive no response. You furrow your eyebrows, watching his face, hes deep in thought and keeping his focus on the road. You reach over to softly touch his arm.

"Spence, what's wrong ?" Your voice is laced with worry.

"Just wait til we get home" he growls in a low tone, his jaw clenching. Keeping his focus on the road. You feel your heart skip a beat at the comment and a soft pulse in-between your legs. You let out a soft and quiet moan, getting comfortable in your seat. Counting down the minutes before you reach home.

As soon as you enter through the front door of his apartment, You're started by the sound of Reid slamming the door, turning around, Reid attacks your lips. Practically ripping your coat off and tossing it, he pushes his lips into yours so forcefully you arch your back and lean back. Arms wrapped around his neck, you deepen the kiss, sticking your tongue in his mouth and tangling your hand into his curly hair. He pushes on the couch, unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at you with lust and desire in his eyes. "I can't wait to be in the bedroom, im taking you right here, right now" he growls "Take that robe off." He commands in a deep, sinful voice.

You undo the robe straps and pull the silk material down your shoulder. He lets out a low groan, quickly wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you into the couch cushions. "You dirty whore" He whispers into your ear as he grabs the robe, yanking it onto the floor. "You kept that on on purpose, huh ?" he snarls. He lightly pushes your head into the cushion before standing up straight. "Take off my belt" You follow his command, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. But right as your about to unzip. he grabs a fistful of your hair and guides your eyes up towards his, "Use your teeth"

He lets go and you lower your head towards the zipper. Gripping the small slider, tasting the sour metal against your tongue, you start to unzip. Right as you let go, your hands trail up to the waistband of his jeans. Leaving him in only his boxers. you admire the tent of black fabric before starting to palm and lick his shaft through the fabric. Hearing his low groan and feeling his hand softly massage your scalp only motivates you even more. Spencer tries to hold himself back, but ultimately gives into temptation and pulls you away by your hair. "Fuck your teasing" He says in a low, impatient tone. He pulls his dick and shoves it into your mouth, beginning to fuck your face, relishing in the sounds of your gags and soft moans.

"That's it, take it like the good little girl you are" he praises, shoving his dick deep into your throat before allowing you to pull away. "lay on your back." He demands as you catch your breath. You immediately lay down on the couch as Spencer positions himself between your legs. He leans down and begins to leave love marks all over your jaw and neck "Beg for me" he growls lowly in your ear. You start whimpering and whining "Please Spence, fuck me... Use my body and show no mercy.." He grips your neck and snarls. "Use the right fucking name" You gasp quietly and whimper "Please.. Doctor.." He chuckles sinfully, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra with one hand.

He pushes himself up and takes a few moments to admire you "so gorgeous.." He whispers to himself before slipping his fingers under the band of your panties. With one swift motion, he rips them off. The tear echoing the apartment so does the small welp you let out. He wastes no time lining himself up with your opening. He waits there for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you squirming under him. Without warning, he rams into you with full force knocking a lustful scream out of you.

"Take It, love. You can take it." He whispers as he starts at a quick pace, slamming into you over and over again. You both are a moaning mess. You scratch down his arms and arch your back, each one of your moans getting louder and louder. He groans at the feeling of your nails peeling the first layer of his skin. He wraps his arms around you, his pace quickening by the second. "Doctor.. im.. gonna.." You can barely even finish your sentence as your breath is knocked out of you with every pound into your core. "Good girl, cum for me princess. That's it, bunny" he whispers in your ear, through moaning. You once again use your nails to scratch down from the back of neck all the way to his back as you let out a loud moan. You feel your whole body shake and your hole tighten around him.

Spencer moans at the sudden squeeze, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he reaches his climax. He moans out your name as he finished inside you, letting his cum pour inside of you with one final thrust. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being filled. Spencer pulls away from you, cupping your cheek "Are you okay, princess ? Did I hurt you ?" he asks through labored breathing. You shake your head, your mind still coming down from your high. Spencer lans up and kisses your forehead "You were such a good girl, baby. I love you so much." You feel your body slowly relaxing "I love you too, Spence" You both smile sweetly at each other and share a sweet, passionate kiss.

The next morning at work, Spencer was grabbing coffee while reading his book. He was standing near the counter, just sipping on his coffee when Derek came up to him. Derek said a quick greeting to him while pouring a cup for himself. He was about to walk off when he noticed the red marks on the back of Reids neck, reaching over and pulling his collar down slightly. "Hey, what happened Reid ?" Morgan asks slightly concerned. Reid turns around covering it with his hand. "What ?" Reids cheeks flush red as he remembers where he got it from. Derek notices it, a wave of realization hitting it as he smirks and puts his hand on his shoulder. "My man" he says teasingly before walking away.

#spencer reid #i love spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr reid #marrymespencerreid #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencerreid

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