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#and then as he’s closing up there’s a little rap on the door
roseandgold137 · 1 year
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The sketch last night
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And the picture now
might add colour later but yeah I’m having thoughts abt the bats and Gotham and how Gotham regards them… like they’re these untouchable creatures of the night and day but sometimes they’re just so clearly human and I just. Oh my god. The bats as symbols for movements like we are Robin and public perception is so complex but in it all there’s a small restaurant chain that went all in on their theme of putting vigilantes and villains alike on their branding.
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antiquepearlss · 3 months
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Wouldn’t it be really funny if Rapunzel just, forgot about Varian’s whole villain arc in convenient moments?
Like Varian is suspected by some villager of conspiring with criminals and she’s just like “Why would Varian be around criminals lmao?” Or he commits some petty crime (against someone who totally deserves it) and when he’s accused she’s just like “Varian has never done anything wrong in his entire life!”
Varian: pranks Frederic by putting thumbtacks on his throne, puts blue dye in Nigel’s shampoo, steals classified documents for shits and giggles, sneaks in fake documents within real documents, replaces the guards swords with inflatables, blackmails uppity nobles, goo bombs Kiera and Catalina’s treehouse, dyes all of Lance’s clothes hot pink, and steals Eugene’s makeup.
Rapunzel: Varian is such a silly little guy. What a sweet lad.
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Insomniac
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: you’re tired of falling asleep in an empty bed due to your workaholic husband’s sleepless nights
Based on this request
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You rub your eyes and blink a few times, adjusting to the soft glow of the lamp on the end table as you lift your head from the couch cushion.
2:17 AM.
Again.
This makes the fifth night in a row that you’ve fallen asleep alone on the living room sofa, having given up on the hope of Toto joining you in your shared bed upstairs. The cashmere blanket wrapped around your legs does little to ward off the chill of the night, and you suppress a shiver as you sit up.
With a sigh, you slide out from under the afghan, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet as you quietly make your way out of the living room and down the hall. The sliver of light peeking out from underneath the closed door of the study confirms your suspicions — Toto is still awake, still working at this ungodly hour.
Ever since the news broke that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari at the end of the season, Toto has been unable to relax. He barely sleeps, poring over stats and projections deep into the night as he tries in vain to figure out how to move forward.
You know he feels responsible — for building the team into what it is, for leading it to seven constructors’ titles, for creating an environment where Lewis could thrive. Letting him go feels like a monumental failure in Toto’s eyes, even though rationally there was nothing else to be done. Lewis’ mind was made up.
But knowing how reasonable a decision it was does nothing to quiet the ceaseless chatter of Toto’s anxious thoughts. He second guesses himself constantly, running through hypotheticals and what-ifs over and over.
What if he had offered more money? More freedom? What if he had anticipated Lewis’ wandering eyes and somehow convinced him to stay? But you know better than anyone that his hands were tied — Mercedes’ board of directors simply would not cooperate with his suggestions.
You understand Toto’s anguish, but his sleepless agonizing is starting to take a toll. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever, and the weight of his responsibilities hangs heavily from his slumped shoulders. His embraces are no longer as warm, his kisses no longer as tender. He retreats into his own head, consumed by doubts and regrets, and you feel him slipping away day by day.
Enough is enough, you decide. If Toto won’t take care of himself, then you will have to take matters into your own hands.
You tiptoe to the kitchen and quietly replace Toto’s usual late-night dark roast with decaf. It won’t stop him from working, but at least it won’t add fuel to the fire of his racing thoughts.
After preparing for bed yourself, you head down the hall, suppressing a shiver as your bare feet meet the cool wood floors. Pausing outside the study door, you turn the thermostat down just a couple degrees. It’s a subtle change, but you know Toto will notice, and it just might make him long for the warmth of your shared bed.
Taking a breath, you gently rap your knuckles against the door and let yourself in. Toto is exactly where you expected, hunched over his desk with his brows furrowed, staring fixedly at his laptop screen.
“Hey,” you say softly so as not to startle him. “It’s getting pretty late, I’m going to head to bed.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmurs absently, barely glancing up.
You stifle a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. “Are you coming?” You ask hopefully.
“In a bit,” Toto mumbles. “I just need to finish this analysis.”
You sigh, walking over to him and sliding your arms around his shoulders. “Toto, please,” you plead, nuzzling into his neck. “Come to bed. You need to rest.”
He reaches up to give your hand a quick, distracted pat. “Soon, liebling. I promise.”
Accepting that you won’t sway him now, you kiss his stubbly cheek and head for the door. “Don’t stay up too much longer,” you implore, then make your way back down the hall.
Once in your bedroom, you go through your regular bedtime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face. But instead of climbing into your big empty bed, you find yourself wandering further down the hall to the nursery.
Pushing open the door, you pause to gaze at your sleeping infant daughter in her crib, her little chest rising and falling with soft even breaths. The corner of the room holds a cozy cushioned rocking chair, and you sink down into it with a yawn, the lateness of the hour finally catching up to you. Your eyes drift closed as you let the gentle motion lull you towards sleep.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you feel strong arms sliding under your knees and behind your back, lifting you from the chair. You let out a soft murmur, still more asleep than awake, as Toto carries you from the nursery. Resting your head against his chest, you breathe in his familiar scent as he brings you down the hall to your bedroom.
Gently, he lays you down on your bed, brushing a wisp of hair back from your face as he pulls the covers up around you. Through bleary eyes, you see him cross to the dresser and begin shedding his clothes, swapping his button-down and slacks for a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Finally, he climbs in beside you with a weary sigh, and you immediately nestle against him, seeking his warmth.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his arms encircle you.
You lift your head to meet his tired blue eyes. “It’s okay,” you murmur. “I know this has been hard for you.”
He shakes his head slightly. “That’s no excuse. You shouldn’t have to deal with my restlessness.”
You reach up to cup his cheek. “We’re in this together, remember?” You remind him gently. “For better or worse.”
The corners of his mouth twitch in a hint of a smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Hmm, I don’t know if it’s come up,” you tease.
He gives you a playful little squeeze. “Well I do. So much.” His voice grows more serious then. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m thankful for you every day.”
You grin and snuggle impossibly closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Wolff.”
His low chuckle rumbles pleasantly against your cheek. “I mean it though. You’re my rock. My safe place. With everything going on ...” He trails off with a heavy exhale.
Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers through his and give a supportive squeeze. “I know. But it’s going to be okay. Mercedes will find their way again, with you leading the charge. You’re the heart and soul of this team, Toto. You brought them this far, and you’ll bring them even further.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” he admits softly. “I just hope I can live up to it.”
“You will,” you say without hesitation. “You’re the most driven, passionate person I know. Your commitment is unmatched. If anyone can navigate these changes, it’s you.”
Toto is quiet for a moment, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says finally. “Just … thank you. For believing in me. For supporting me. For loving me, even when I’m being a stubborn arschloch.”
You grin. “Well, you’re my stubborn arschloch. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He laughs then, the sound warm and rich, and you feel some of the tension leave his body.
“No more working until sunrise though, okay?” You implore, threading your fingers through his hair. “You need to take care of yourself too.”
He nods, eyes shining with affection. “Okay. I promise.”
Satisfied, you nestle against his chest once more, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His lips find the top of your head in a tender kiss.
“I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So very much.”
You smile softly, already drifting towards sleep in the safety of his arms.
“I love you too,” you whisper. And with a contented sigh, you surrender to the pull of peaceful slumber, the two of you wrapped up in each other as you should be.
No more empty beds or sleepless nights. Just the comforting nearness of the man you love.
Your partner.
Your home.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
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𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??
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Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.
It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.
When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.
Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"
"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"
"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.
"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.
"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.
"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...
"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.
"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."
You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."
"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.
You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"
The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."
You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."
"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.
"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."
"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."
"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"
You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"
He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."
"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.
"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.
"No, I meant—"
"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"
"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—
Oh shit.
You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.
“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”
“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”
“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”
“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”
“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”
He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?
“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.
He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.
“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.
“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”
You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”
He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”
His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.
“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”
“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.
“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.
“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”
You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”
You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”
His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”
Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.
You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.
His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 
After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.
You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.
Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.
It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.
Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.
“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 
“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”
“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.
Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.
“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.
You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.
“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 
Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”
He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.
Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…
You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.
“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”
He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 
“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.
You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.
“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”
You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”
“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”
Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.
Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.
You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.
Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”
You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”
“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.
“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”
“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.
Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.
“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.
Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.
“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”
A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.
“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.
You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.
“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”
You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.
Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.
The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.
“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”
“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”
“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”
“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.
“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”
“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”
“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”
“But this is different,” he insisted.
“How?”
“Because this…”
He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.
“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.
“You were saying?” you teased.
“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”
You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.
“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”
“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.
“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”
He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 
Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.
“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.
“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”
He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.
One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”
He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.
Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.
“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 
“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 
“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 
“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!
“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”
That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”
He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”
“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.
He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.
“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”
You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”
“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 
Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.
“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”
You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.
Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.
“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”
“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.
“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.
“You’re on—”
“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.
You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.
“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.
“Probably a little,” you shrugged.
“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”
“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.
He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.
“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.
“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.
“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.
He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”
8K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 10 months
Note
Lol I just keep thinking about perv!geto taking her on a proper date for once lmao
PervyRoomate!Geto x reader
note: i have a running series of perv!geto u can find here // but you can read this w/ out context :3
Contains: fem reader, sex toys, exhibitionism, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!Suguru, fingering, car shenanigans, humiliation, degradation, praise, an unhealthy amount of dirty talk, Suguru has a big dick, nipple play, panty stealing, talk of masturbation, belly bulge if you squint, creampie,
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
A knock was rapped on your wooden door, interrupting a very important part of the drama you were currently watching. "What?" You yelled from your bed, not taking your eyes off the messy breakup scene in front of you. Your door squeaked open to reveal a handsome Suguru, looking too dressed up at 3pm on a Friday. He wasn't adorned in anything particularly fancy, but you weren't really used to seeing him in anything other than grey joggers and some band t-shirt.
You gave him a quick one over, admiring the black slacks that fit his thighs too well, the white button-up shirt he had tucked into them, and a like-new looking belt that was half on, as his fingers made quick work to thread the prong through the belt hole. "What are you doing? I told you I was taking you out tonight." He said, raising his eyebrows. It's not that you looked bad, but you weren't exactly ready for five-star cuisine in your booty shorts and tank top. "Riiight.. are you ready to go? or?" You asked, looking around the room in confusion before your eyes landed on his.
When he finished looping the belt through the buckle, he crossed his arms and leaned against his doorframe, smirking at you. "Get that disgusting look off your face," you cringed at him, pushing your laptop aside as you pulled your body up to sit crisscross on your bed. "I'm not taking you to McDonalds baby." He laughed, confusing you even more. "Okayy.. so where are we going?" you asked. You fully expected him to name some sit-down diner that was one or two marks fancier than a Mcdonald's, but you weren't expecting him to name the most expensive and highly rated restaurant in town.
Your mouth fell agape as you stood watching the dark-haired man in the doorway laugh at you. "Don't take offense to this, but you're not exactly the most wealthy person I know." You said, still looking at him in disbelief. "If Gojo asked me out to this place, sure, that might sound a little more realis-" "Don't talk about that idiot taking you out in front of me." Geto interrupted, uncrossing his legs as he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes, giving you a smile that did little to cover up his animosity.
Ever since you and Geto had started fucking around pretty regularly, you have noticed a change in his demeanor whenever Gojo would hit on you. It wasn't like it was anything new, Gojo has been hitting on you for years, for as long as Geto has been bringing him around, you think. Before you and Suguru started hooking up, whenever Gojo would flirt with you he would brush the white-haired man off for the most part, maybe give him a scoff or incredulous look if his attempt at a pickup line was really that horrid on the ears.
Recently though, whenever Gojo tried to hit on you, or his touch would linger a little longer than it should, Geto was quick to intervene. Putting himself between the two of you physically, or butting into the conversation to shut down his attempts. Geto knew you weren't interested in Gojo in the slightest, but he couldn't help but feel that greed-eyed monster of jealousy bubble up inside him whenever you laughed a little too hard at his jokes, or in this case, brought him up in conversation unprovoked.
"Sorry~ Didnt realize he was such a sore subject for you.." You teased, "Unriquitted love, maybe?" He knew you were trying to push his buttons, but you weren't far off. Just not in the way you were thinking, because he sure as hell wasn't interested in Gojo like that either. He sighed, before gripping something in his pocket and pulling it out of his pants, keeping it concealed in his fist.
"Anyways, I don't even know what I would wear to this place!" You said exasperated, glancing over to rake your eyes through your closet to see if anything caught your eye. Without making a sound, Geto slipped out of the room and quickly returned with a dark red bag, tossing it into your lap and landing it perfectly between your crossed legs. You peeked inside the bag and saw some sort of black fabric, you crunched your eyebrows together, looking back up at him. "Wear that." He said, his smirk returning to his face.
Your lips dropped open slightly, a small gap being created between your lips. "Sugu.. If you robbed a bank you know I would never tell anyone.. right?" You said, all too seriously. The man burst out in laughter, "Fuck! I'm not as broke as you think!" He spoke through his laughter, holding his hand over his chest. "Just got a raise at work is all, couldn't think of a better way to spend my first fat check." He crossed his arms again, keeping the one fist balled up as he did so.
"Oh shit, congratulations Sugu! I'm actually not a great liar so I probably would've told someone about the whole robbing a bank thing." You said, clicking your tongue, "Sorry." He giggled at your words, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I know." He spoke, watching your face beam as you pulled out the beautiful black dress he bought you. "Oh yeah, bought just the thing to wear with that too." He smiled in faux innocence, unballing his fist he dangled a pair of skimpy, black lace panties in front of him.
They weren't just any panties though, you could see on the crotch of those panties that would be pressed against your cunt, a flat teardrop-shaped silicone vibrator adorned the fabric. Your jaw really dropped now as you stared at the piece in disbelief. He wasn't really expecting you to wear remote-controlled panties in the fanciest restaurant in town, right? "Pretty, huh?" His voice filled the room when you didn't react. "You never change, huh?" You sighed, holding your hand out in front of you as he tossed the panties over to where you sat.
A big part of you thought this was a horrible idea, knowing how sensitive you are, but another, less rational part of you couldn't help but get excited at the thought of Suguru having full control of getting you off with a little remote control in his pocket, while the two of you dined in the fanciest atmosphere you had yet to immerse yourself in. "Pervert." You said, looking up at him under your lashes as you stretched the panties between your fingers, admiring how well made they were.
Suguru giggled, walking over to the bed you sat on, his knees bumping into the mattress as he reached out and took the panties away from you. "Hey-" "Need some help putting them on?" He asked, twirling them around on his finger. You scoffed, "Suguru, why would I need help putting on a pair of panties, just-" You tried and failed to snatch them back from his hands as he yanked them out of your reach. "You sure?" He said, continuing to twirl them as he started to back out of the room with a mischievous grin on his face. You threw your hand up in the air in defeat, giving him a 'what the hell' look before he closed the door behind him on the way out.
"How am I supposed to wear them tonight if you just kidnapped them!!" You yelled through the door, hearing his footsteps descend further away from you. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off of your comfortable mattress and began getting ready for the night ahead of you.
--
Smoothing out your dress in the mirror, you turned your body around and checked out your own ass in the mirror, and lord was it an ass to behold. It's like Suguru had taken your measurements in the middle of the night to make sure this dress absolutely fitted your figure in the most flattering way; honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. You absolutely wouldn't be mad that's for sure. You had done up your hair and face and adorned your feet with the nicest pair of black heels you owned. You looked absolutely perfect to the unknowing eye.. the only thing missing? Your panties. The absence of something hugging you down there made you feel a little vulnerable, but otherwise, you felt perfect.
After a quick one-over to make sure everything was as it should be on your figure, you stepped out of your room, shutting off the lights and closing the door as you left. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you made your way into the living room, where Geto had splayed himself out on your shared couch. His big thighs spread wide on the cushions, his arms spread out behind him on the back of the couch. He looked edible; the way his pecs were pressed tightly against his shirt from how he was stretching his arms apart made you want to pounce on him and play with his massive chest; who was the pervert now?
Right when you finished checking the man out, he noticed your presence, tilting his head to the side, his eyes doubled in size, his eyebrows raising to make room for them. He let his head fall back on the couch, a grin spreading across his face as he raked his eyes over your body before his eyes settled on yours, giving you a whistle. "Yeah, I chose the right dress, you look fucking edible." He complimented, licking his bottom lip before he briefly took it into his mouth.
"Wait till you see my ass." You teased, placing your hand on your hip and tipping your head at him. "Oh yeah?" Geto raised an eyebrow challengingly. Tipping his chin down he stood from his spot on the couch, heavy steps walking over to where you stood in the entrance of the living room. He stuck his hand out to you, signaling for you to grab it. "Give me a spin baby," Geto whispered into the quiet room, the tv playing some unimportant show in the background as you placed your hand in his. He lifted your arm, slowly spinning you around, making sure to get a good look at your ass in the dress.
He whisted again, "Oh yeah~ fucking perfect." He said, spinning you back around to face him again as he released your hand and fished for something in his pocket. "Only missing one thing~" He said, raising his eyebrows at you knowingly. "Yeah, gimmie that shit, feels weird with nothing down there." You said, holding your hand out to him. "Nuh-uh," He said, tsking at you. You scrunched your eyebrows at him in annoyance. Though he didn't give you much time to pout as he dropped on one knee, opening up the leg holes of the panties for you to step in as his eyes watched your expression from the floor.
You felt your face heat up, this position was so intimate it flustered you. "H-huh?" was the only thing you could muster. "C'mon, we gotta get going if we wanna make out reservation on time." He cooed, nodding his head at you. "Do I just-" You started, raising your heel-clad foot from the floor as you poked it into the hole of the panties. "Mhm.. and here I thought you said you didn't need any help putting your panties on?" He teased, washing away some of your embarrassment as it was replaced with irritation.
You kept quiet, stepping into the other hole of the panties and letting him slide the material up your body teasingly. He rose from his position on the floor, standing in front of you in his entirety as he kept his eyes on his hands, where he was moving the cloth up your body. The dress was being bunched up to your mid-thigh, and would soon rest on your hips the higher he dragged the panties up. Once he saw your cunt come into view, the panties only centimeters from touching your throbbing clit, he gazed back up into your eyes, watching your reaction closely.
You swallowed whatever saliva was still in your day mouth, keeping your eyes on his. He watched your eyes flutter, your nose sucking in a breath as he pulled the panties up to your hips, the cold silicone being pressed against your cunt and creating a delicious friction between your legs. Smirking, Suguru slid your dress back down your thighs and smoothed it out before placing his hands on the small of your waist and caressing the skin there. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling yourself throb between your legs with the added pressure and the intensity in which he was staring at you.
"How's that feel?" He said, sliding his hands up and down the sides of your body before sliding his hands to your ass and gripping the fat there, simultaneously pressing your body closer to his, his knee sliding between yours and making the dress wrinkle at the bottom. "Feels good." You nod. Geto tilted his head down, looking between your lips and eyes as one of his hands left your waist to dig in his pockets, out of your view. "Yeah?" He said, licking his lips. "Let's just make sure everything is in working order before we go, yeah?" He whispered agaisnt your lips, neither of you daring to close the distance.
The tension was thick in the air when you nodded, the man in front of you mimicking your nod, whispering a quiet yeah. Your breath hitched in your throat, your legs wobbling slightly when you felt the soft vibration tickle against your clit. Geto's jaw dropped as he watched your reaction to the toy buzzing against your sensitive bud. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before closing completely when he upped the intensity of the vibrations. "It hittin' the right spot?" He asked, leaning in to whisper against your neck when you tipped it back.
"You let him pull your body tighter against his own, his knee pressing against the toy against your cunt, increasing the feeling as you let your jaw drop, moaning quietly into the air as he left soft, barely-there kisses against your throat. "Y-yes, it's on the right spot." You confirmed. Your legs felt like jello at the stimulation combined with how palpable the tension filling the room was. "Vibrating on 'ur little clit?" You knew he knew how much his voice turned you on, and fuck was it turning you on. "Yes," you whimpered breathily, squeezing your thighs around his larger one between your legs.
"Bet it feels so good." He said, biting your neck gently before pulling away to look at your face, expression painted with lust. You just gave him a nod, gasping as you started to rock yourself on his thigh. "Oh~ Horny girll~" He teased, pulling his body back to watch you hump slowly along his toned thigh. Just when you were falling into a rhythm, the buzzing stopped. When you cracked your eyes open to scold him, you were met with a cocky-looking Geto, smiling mischievously at you. You sighed, realizing how the rest of the night was going to go.
"Oh my, look at the time!" He said dramatically, holding the expensive watch Gojo got him for his most recent birthday out in front of him. "There are no batteries in that watch, Suguru." You call him out, deadpanning. "I'm all-knowing, I don't need a watch to tell me we're going to be late if we don't leave now." He said, patting your ass before he pulled away, you instantly missed the pressure his knee brought between your thighs.
--
The ride to the restaurant was short but dreadful. He had kept his warm hand on your thigh the entire time, rubbing his thumb teasingly against the inside of your leg, slowly rubbing higher and higher, making you think he was going to touch you, but he ultimately pulled away. You kept waiting to feel the vibration against your clit, but it never came. You just throbbed pathetically with no relief in sight during the ten-or-so-minute drive, although your increased arousal made it feel like hours.
He patted his hand on your thigh when he parked the car, turning his head to look at your hot and bothered face, giving you a charming smile before killing the engine and sliding out of his driver's seat, ordering you not to move before he shut the door. Your roommate popped open your door, holding his hand out for you to help you out of the car. "Such a gentleman." You said, half sarcastically. He smirked, closing the door behind you. He felt his heard skip a beat when you laced your arm with his as the two of you made a short stroll towards the establishment.
Even the outside of the building called you poor in twenty different languages. It was lit up beautifully, the tinted windows giving you a little peek at the rich interior of the building. "You nervous?" He asked as the two of you approached the door. "A little, I've never been somewhere so fancy before." You replied honestly. "Yeah? Just stay close to me, all you gotta do is stay on my arm and look pretty." He cooed.
Geto's confidant demeanor made you hot in the face and other places. You felt like a trophy he was showing off to the world, his confidence rubbing off on you as the two of you walked into the establishment. You approached the man in the front, dressed in a full suit, taking reservation names before you were seated. Geto didn't miss the way the blonde young man blushed as he gave you a one-over, admiring your body before clearing his throat and asking Geto for the name on the reservation. You were too busy looking around the establishment to notice the man's glances, but you did feel Geto's arm squeeze tighter around yours.
"R-right this way." He said, bowing his arm in front of him before starting a trail to the semi-secluded table he would bring you to. The lights hanging above the tables were dim and elegant, it felt strangely warm and comfortable, making you relax your shoulders. "I think our host has a little crush on you~" Geto whispered into your ear, making you jolt out of your daze. "H-huh?" You said, looking up at the dark-haired man in confusion. "You really are so oblivious." He said, giggling, "Someone might try to eat you up one day, you should be more aware." His word irritated you for some reason, but then again, everything he did irritated you.
"Asshole, I'm self-aware. Not everyone is a pervert like you." You spat, averting your gaze to the back of the host boy as you continued your pace to the table. "You'd be surprised." Was the last thing Geto said before the host stopped in front of you, raising his arm out to the table, signaling the two of you to sit. "Thank you." You said to the host, your eye contact making the young man blush as he nodded and said a quick, "My pleasure." before leaving.
"Oh, he's so into you." Geto giggled, sliding into the booth. The seating he gave you looked to be the most beautiful in the restaurant. He had sat you in the corner of the room, a beautiful vintage-looking red light hung between the two of you, the window immediately to your left giving you a view of the Holiday-esc decorated street, twinkling with white lights and garland. You ignored his comment, taking in the scenery as you relaxed into the comfortable cushion, almost forgetting about the toy hiding inside your panties.
"It's so beautiful, Suguru." You said. He fully expected you to curse him out for the comment about the host, so when he received this response instead he was quite taken aback. At that moment he felt his heart race in his chest, but simultaneously a feeling of sadness crept over him. He wished he could afford to take you to places like this more often. Maybe if you were with someone like Satoru, you would get to experience this more. "Suguru?" You called out to him, tilting your head at his far away look.
"Sorry," He replied, being snapped out of his stupor, looking back to you. You looked so beautiful under the dim glow of the red-tinted lights, he wanted to lean across the table and take your lips against his. "It is beautiful." He agreed. You still felt like something was off, but his mood didn't seem odd enough to ruin the night, so you let it be for now. "What made you want to take me here?" You asked, glancing through the wine menu in front of you. He smirked at you, "What, you don't like it? I thought it was beautiful." He teased.
You kicked his shin gently under the table. "Don't be dumb, of course I like it. I've just never been to a place with a set menu before.. and I don't think you have either." You smiled at him. "I've been to a place like this with Satoru before, just once, It seemed like somewhere you deserve to be taken." He answered honestly, grabbing the wine menu to look at himself when you slid it across the wite tablecloth. His words made you blush, you silently thanked the owner of the restaurant for choosing the red lights, it was saving you the embarrassment of Geto pointing out your flushed face.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but you know I love this just as much as when you take me to get McDonald's you know." You giggled. You were sure if anyone around you had heard the comparison of this establishment to a place light McDonalds, their heads might screw off in astonishment. Your words eased the self consciousness in his chest, only you would say something like that. "Plus, I might start acting spoiled if I don't be careful about coming to places like this." You giggled, making him smile.
"What if I want you to be spoiled?" He responded, his tone making you squeeze your thighs together under the table. "You spoil me enough, Suguru." You respond, your sultry voice uttering his name made his pants feel tight. The mood was quickly shifting from romantic to a more lust-filled one. "Yeah?" He responded, slipping his hand into his pant pocket to find the remote connected to the panties, just rubbing his thumb around the button. You nodded, poking his shin with the tip of your heel under the table, your flirty ministrations being hidden by the long white tablecloth.
"How so?" He asked, tilting his head as he pressed the on button of the vibrator, sending a dull vibration against your clit. He watched your eyes flutter at the stimulation, humming out a "hmm?" when he did so. "You're spoiling me r-right now. Always thinking of ways to make me f-feel good." You replied, taking deep breaths to ensure a whine wouldn't slip out. "Am I?" He replied, leaning back against the booth, upping the vibration with the remote in his pants as he watched you jerk forward.
"Suguru-" You wined quietly, biting your lip as you squeezed your thighs together. "Feel good when you cross your legs, baby?" He whispered, leaning his forearms on the table as he tried to look at your expression from your head tipped forward, eyes shut at the intensity. You didn't know how he knew you were crossing your legs, but you nodded in response anyway. "The waiter is coming baby, pull yourself together." He whispered before sitting back, averting his gaze from you as he watched a new man approach your table. You grit your teeth in irritation, if he really wanted you to 'pull yourself together' he would stop the toy.
You swallowed hard, trying to take steady deep breaths into your lungs, smiling at the nice-looking waiter as he approached the table. "What do you want to drink, honey~" He cooed, egging you on by using the ridiculous pet name. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, he upped the vibration twice, making your body jerk forward. Of course, the waiter just had to ask if you were alright. "Yeah, you alright?" Geto chimed in, hiding his smile with faux concern on his face. You waved your hands in front of yourself, "Hiccups." You said, trying to muster up a smile as you glared at the dark-haired man across the table from you.
"Ill order, we'll take the-" Geto's voice faded out as he interacted with the waitor as you bit your tongue, your stomach clenching at each vibration, feeling yourself drip into the panties. You placed your elbow on the table when the man walked away, squeezing your eyes shut you covered your mouth, moans occasionally being muffled against your hand. "Fuck, that was so hot." Geto laughed, feeling himself twitch in his pants. You looked up at him once you cracked your eyes open again, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure as your thighs squeezed tightly against one another.
"I'll give you a break." He said, reaching into his pocket he switched off the remote, making your muscles unclench as your hand fell from your mouth, gasping as quietly as you could into the air. Geto pulled the tablecloth over his lap so he could grope himself over his pants without anyone seeing him act so indecently. You had no smart remarks left in your brain, you weren't sure if Geto knew how close you had just been to cumming in front of the waitor, but with how breathless he looked you thought he might've had some idea.
You were the one with a toy pressed against your most sensitive spot right now, but just from seeing your reactions alone, Geto was feeling all hot and bothered. Every time you inhaled sharply or your body jerked, he felt his cock leak into his boxers. "Is this okay?" He asked, continuing to rub his cock slowly, giving himself some sort of relief. You nodded, your expression very obviously coated in lust.
"Good, this shit is making me so hard you know that?" He confessed, looking into your eyes. You forced a smile through the arousal, "Maybe next time, you should be the one with a vibrator on your cock." You teased, making him laugh through a groan. "Yeah, might have to let me borrow those panties when you're done here." You clenched your thighs together at the thought of a big strong Suguru with dainty panties pressed against his hard cock, undoubtedly most of his length would be poking out through the top of the panties, and that just fueled your arousal even more.
"Suguru." You wined, covering your mouth once more, he tilted his head at you, feeling you run your leg up his shin, teasing higher and higher as you stroked your heel-clad foot on his thigh, making him hiss in a breath, abandoning the hand on his cock and placing it on the cushion next to him. "Turn it on." You said from behind your hand, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones. The way you were getting so into this made his face feel hot, his cock twitching under his pants when he felt the tip of your heel press softly against his balls.
He listened to your instruction, switching the vibration on once more, you sucked in a breath, continuing to rub your foot against his crotch. "So naughty." He giggled through his arousal, watching you swallow hard at how good the vibration felt. "Your wine," A voice came out of nowhere, catching the two of you off guard as the waitor seemed to appear out of thin air, filling your glass with the red liquid before repeating the same to Geto. Your heart was racing out of your chest, quickly you snapped out of whatever horny trance you had been in, retracting your foot from Geto's crotch you crossed your legs once more.
Geto smiled at you as you watched the waitor pour the wine, feeling the throbbing in his pants intensify with the loss of your foot on his cock. "Came to your senses?" Geto giggled, switching off the vibrator so you could relax once more. You blushed, embarrassed about how shameless you had just been. You had almost completely forgotten you were in public. "You make me lose them." You said, the vein on your forehead popping out at his audacity. He laughed, reaching over the table to take your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand.
You welcomed the feeling, feeling your irritation wash away. "Sorry, truly, didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetheart." He said, smiling more authentically at your face, still screwed in annoyance. You sighed, his charm melting away your annoyance, "It's fine, dude came outta fuckin' nowhere." You complained, pouting. Geto laughed, "I didn't notice him either, sneaky bastard." His shared animosity made you laugh, easing your nerves as the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation.
The rest of the dinner had gone smoothly, the two of you almost completely forgetting about the vibrating panties as you immersed yourself in the conversation, that was until the desert was brought out. Vanilla ice cream and some fancy-looking dessert next to it, looking too pretty to eat. The both of you thanked the waiter, plastering smiles on your faces until he walked out of view. "Suguru I cant do it." "Fuck I'm so glad you said something, I need to take my belt off before I explode.. and it's not for the reason it normally is when I'm with you." He said seriously, making you laugh.
"This place is so expensive though, I feel bad just leaving this here untouched." You said, raking your eyes over the dessert. "Don't force yourself." He said, rubbing his hand over his bloated tummy. There had been 5 courses, they weren't relatively big alone, but after eating so many little dishes you were feeling like you were at your limit. They had all brought flavors you had never tasted before and never thought you would taste, so you couldn't help but think the same would be true about this desert, you didn't want to miss out.
"If you feed me I think I can do it." You teased, sticking your tongue out for the man in front of you. "Fuck." He laughed, feeling his now semi-hard cock twitch to life in his pants. "Might need to take my belt off for that other reason soon." Geto huffed out a laugh, making you giggle with your tongue out as he scooped some of the vanilla ice cream onto the spoon. "Ahhh~" He said, making you repeat the noise as he placed the spoon in your mouth and focused on your plush-looking lips that wrapped around the spoon and licked the cold cream off the spoon.
He pulled it back, sliding the spoon upwards to make sure you swallowed up everything. When he pulled it away, he noticed some of the white liquid smear against your bottom lip, his cock twitched with interest at how similar it looked to another white substance he frequently saw on your lips. Wordlessly he reached across the table and wiped his thumb against your lip, collecting the white liquid and bringing it back to his own mouth, licking it off.
You felt your heart speed up, a pulse could be felt between your legs as you watched him take his own thumb into his mouth and suck sensually, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, before popping it out of his mouth. "Sweet." He said. You felt your lip quiver, taking in a shaky breath you whispered. "Get the check." The man stood without another word, opening his wallet, he slapped a couple twenties onto the white cloth before tucking it back into his pants and grabbing your hand, dragging you out of the booth. "Pre-paid." He said, holding the small of your waist as he led the two of you to the entrance of the restaurant.
You looked down at Geto's slacks as the two of you made quick work to exit. The bulge in his pants was very evident to anyone with a pair of working eyes, glancing up at his face he seemed like he couldn't care less as he kept his sights on the trail in front of him. The two of you walked right past the young blonde man who had led you to your table. The man's face turned a deep shade of crimson when Geto grabbed a handful of your ass and looked back to wink at the boy, undoubtably his own pants had tented at the shameless display of Geto's claim on you.
The cold air felt relieving once the two of you made it outside, easing the burning heat your cheeks were experiencing. "I wanted to treat you like a lady tonight but you make me lose control when I'm around you, know that?" He confessed, keeping his eyes glued in front of him as his car came into view. "Were the vibrating panties part of you treating me like a lady?" You teased, looking up at him. "Maybe not, saw them in the window of some sex shop on the way home last night." He said, finally reaching the car. He gave your ass one last squeeze before he opened the door for you and helped you inside.
"Cant help it, just wanna slut you out every chance I get." He said, winking at you before he shut the door softly, leaving you flustered as you crossed your hands in your lap, waiting for him to enter the car. You gasped when you felt the vibration start up suddenly, moments later Geto's door popped open and he slid inside, keeping the car off as he shut the door behind him. Leaning into your face, he placed his hand on the side of your soft cheek, "Cmere baby." He whispered before he connected your lips together.
You moaned against his lips, his other hand coming to rub against your clothed cunt, pressing the vibrator harder against you. He was panting into the kiss, the exchange was filled with teeth and tongue as he devoured you with his lips. Your hands came up to wrap around his wrist that held your face, making him hum against your lips. Your moans into the kiss increased in volume as he frantically rubbed back and forth against the vibrator, simultaneously making the silicone rub your clit, creating a heavenly feeling.
"Want you to cum right here in my car before we leave, need to see you cum." Geto panted against your lips, making you wine. He was throbbing in his pants, there was nothing he needed more in this moment than to see you fall apart on his fingers and the vibrator he got you, wearing the dress he bought you. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your tongue with his as you felt your orgasm creep up on you alarmingly fast. You dug your nails into his wrist, arching your back your legs spread themselves apart instinctually as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.
"Sug-uru- Sugu-" You moaned his name breathlessly against his lips, he knew you were about to cum. He kept the same pace and pressure against you as your hips started bucking into his hand to get yourself there. "Take it baby- take it cmon-" He whispered against your lips. He moved his kisses to the side of your mouth and cheek when you became unable to kiss him back, your jaw going slack as the dam broke and you came hard against the vibrator.
His hand gripped your thigh hard, his nails digging into the fat as he moaned with you as you came. He felt lightheaded watching your body jerk and spasm in his hold. "Yeah, that's my girl~ good fucking girl~" He praised, continuing to rub your clit as he worked you through the last shocks of your orgasm. Once you came down from your high and your brain started functioning regularly again, you registered his words in your head. 'my girl' the words echoed over and over in your head.
Surely those words were only uttered from the heat of the moment, but it sure as hell sounded nice rolling off his tongue. You pushed his hand away in overstimulation as the vibration continued, making you twitch against the car seats. "Sorry baby, I got you." He whispered, pulling away from your face he reached into his pocket and switched the vibrator off. "I feel better now." He said, making you come to your senses as you giggled. "You?" You said incredulously. "It makes me feel good to make you cum, you should know that by now." He said honestly.
You believed his words wholeheartedly. His cock was still rock hard and twitching in his pants but he did look more relieved than he did when he first pulled you into the car. His breath had evened out too. "Want me to suck you off while you drive us home?" You asked, glancing between his hard-on poking through his pants and his handsome face. He laughed, "Such a vulgar mouth you have, roomie." He teased, grabbing your face he squshed your cheeks together, shaking your head back and forth. "I plan to fuck you nice and good when we get home if that sounds okay with you, so I can wait."
You nodded frantically, he didn't have to look over at you to know your answer, your head shaking his arm with the intensity with which you nodded. "You're so sweet, yknow that?" He said, his words catching you off guard. "Why are you bein' so sappy? Got a crush on me?" You joked, not expecting the silence that followed as he released your face as started the car, signaling before he pulled out into the dark street, heading for your shared apartment.
You looked over to Geto's face and noticed a light blush dusting his cheeks every time he drove under a streetlight, illuminating his features. You suddenly felt very self-conscious, your own cheeks heating up the longer he took to respond. "Oh." You said, turning your body to face the street as you gazed out through the window. "I'm not asking you to like me back sweet cheeks, just keep hanging out with me and I'll survive." He said.
Your heart was racing, you felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. It made sense that he liked you, the two of you had been living together for years, you spent more time with him more than anyone else you knew, and you had been hooking up for a couple of months now, it made sense that he had feelings for you. It's not like his feelings weren't reciprocated, you started noticing your heart pick up around him a couple months ago, right after the two of you started hooking up.
You had chalked it up to being arousal or lust, noticing how the strange feeling became stronger when he touched you or spoke to you. You realized quickly that this was not just lust, you were in fact very in love with your roommate. He did look like he had been chiseled by the gods themselves, and he had a lovely (for the most part) personality to match, he was funny, he cared about your well-being, he took care of you when you were sick, cuddled with you, gave you the dick of your life- he was everything you could've ever wanted and more.
"Can you say something though, you're making me feel embarrassed." His voice broke through the deafening silence, breaking you out of your stupor. You didn't realize the two of you had already been driving for so long, your apartment coming into view as he pulled into the parking spot in front of your building. Say something, say something, this is your chance, say something idiot just- Geto was internally panicking, he regretted leaving his answer so ambiguous, he should've just said "Of course not~" When you asked if he liked you, fuck he was such an idiot, he just ruined your relationship he was sure of it.
Surely you wouldn't feel comfortable living in the same house with someone who was in love with you, of course, that would be uncomfortable, fuck. Was it too late to say he was joking? Shit. Maybe you would move out, god- he felt sick, he wanted to get out of the car and run away, excape this awkward atmosphere, and just-
Your lips were on his, you were kissing him, you had your hands on his thighs and you were kissing him. "Sorry." You pulled away. "I- I'm not good with this kinda stuff but I had to do something." He registered your voice speak to him. "I uh- I like you too." You blushed, looking at the scenery outside the car, counting the tiles on your building, anything to avoid his eyes. "I almost jumped out of the window, never do that shit again." He said, sighing the heaviest sigh one man has ever sighed.
You burst out into laughter, "Sorry, wasn't exactly expecting you to confess your love when I was harmlessly teasing you~" You said, squinting your eyes at him. He swallowed hard, your hands on his thighs suddenly burning with an indescribable heat against his skin. "Can I take you inside and fuck you now? Think I might die If I don't get inside you soon." he whispered into the silent car.
--
Your back slammed into the door of your apartment, muffled moans and breaths mingling between the two of you as Geto wrappped a large arm around your waist to keep you pressed against his body, his other digging in his pocket to fish out the key and get the two of you inside. "Geto-" You moaned against his lips, "Hurry." You don't think you've ever felt this hot and bothered in your life. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, his bare chest being exposed to the open air as you made quick work of his belt while he blindly inserted the key into the door and twisted it open.
The two of you almost crashed to the ground when the door opened behind you, stumbling inside Geto slammed the door shut and locked it behind you, working his hands on the back of your dress he uncliped the hook at the top and slid the garment in one swipe off of your body, leaving you clad in just the panties. "No bra?" He breathed against your lips, feeling his hand come into contact with nothing but your skin when he instinctively went to unclasp your bra. "Thought we might end up like this~" You whispered agaisnt his lips, yanking his belt through the loops of his pants and throwing it somewhere in the room.
He lifted you from under your thighs, kissing and biting your neck frantically as he walked you to the familiar path to his room. You pressed the back of his neck agaisnt you, tangling your hands in his long hair while he kicked open his door and took long strides to the bed, throwing you down on it, making you bounce against his mattress. Geto breathed heavily, unbuttoning his pants with one hand he crawled onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs and welcoming yours that wrapped around his as he slid his pants off in the process, leaving the both of you only clad in your undergarments.
He placed one hand on your neck and pressed you into the bed, his lips chasing yours as he kissed you needily. You made a sound of discomfort against his lips, feeling something rough on your lower back. You pulled away from the kiss briefly to reach under your back and move whatever was irritating your skin. You didn't expect to pull out a pair of your panties, stiffer than you remember them being, from behind your back, more importantly, you didn't expect to see them in Geto's bed.
"Geto I am right here," you said, deadpanning, holding the cum soaked panties to the side of you. He smiled, taking the panties from your hand he tucked them under his pillow, "You wouldn't get it~" He said, tipping your head to the side he dropped his head to your neck, moving his hand out of the way a bit so he could leave hickeys on your skin. You gasped, "N-no I don't, why keep stealing my p-panties and cumming on them when you can walk ten feet down the hall and fuck me?" You asked, your breath picking up when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.
"It's the thrill." He says, biting your neck before soothing over the same spot with his tongue, easing the sting. "Sneaking around and stealing your panties-" kiss "when you have no idea," kiss "Gets me off so hard." He explains. "You're s-such a pervert." You whine, and yet feel yourself clench around nothing at his words. "That shit too." He says, gripping your naked tighter in his hold. "Love when you tell me how nasty I am, keep doing it." He instructs, moving his lips down to take your nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.
"Fuck- Suguru-" You moan, bucking your hips up into his, simultaneously wrapping your legs around him tighter. "Tell me, baby, tell me how dirty I am." He speaks, the words coming out muffled around your nipple, the vibration of his words tingling through your hardened bud and making you drip between your thighs. "Y-you're such a filthy pervert S-suguru." You say, immediately getting a loud groan of approval from him, his hips humping into your own, the bulge in his pants being rubbed just right against your clit.
"Yeah?" He moans, releasing your nipple with a lewd pop as he switches to the other one, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it, feeling it harden in his mouth. "Yeah, baby- s-so nasty stealin' my panties and makin' a m-mess all over them." He groans, his hips pressing themselves harder into your panty-clad pussy. "Bet you pretend 'ur fucking my cunt huh-?" You tease, feeling his hand slide down between your legs and move the panties to the side of your pussy so he could rub his boxer-covered dick between your naked folds.
He moans out a, "mhm-" against your nipple, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his dick as he rubs his length between your folds, his wet tip bumping into your clit as he does so. "Do you w-wrap the around y-our cock o-or-" You were cut off by his fat tip pressing against the entrance of your pussy, not pushing in, just keeping pressure against the twitching hole as he nibbled on your nipple, giving it one last suck before pulling away.
"Sometimes I'll lick the part where your pussy goes 'n taste you," He starts, peppering kisses across the expanse of your chest. "Fuck.." You moan, feeling your face grow hot at his words. "Sometimes I'll hold them up to my nose 'n smell you, use 'em to jerk off-" You pressed your hand over his mouth, breathing heavily at his shameless explanation. "You really are disgusting." You said, feeling yourself clench around nothing.
Suguru released a shaky breath, feeling a tingle shoot up his spine at your mean words before he thrust his cock into your pussy in one thrust, groaning at how tight you felt around him, the sound coming out muffled from your hand pressed against his mouth. "Ohmygod-" You whined, your hand dropping from his lips and falling against the sheets to your side as you gripped the cloth between your fingers tightly.
Suguru leaned back, pulling your thighs over his larger ones and sitting on his calves, he immediately started up a brutal pace inside you, fucking his cock into you as he used one hand to hold your panties to the side, getting a perfect view of your cunt swallowing up his dick. "Your pussy is eating up my dick like it's the tastiest thing in the world~" Geto cooed, bringing the pad of his thumb to rub circles agaisnt your little clit, poking out argrilly from under the hood.
"Fuck- S-Suguru!" You moaned, thrashing your head from side to side against his pillows. "God I love how dumb you get from my dick baby~ You like it this much? Huh?" He asked, emphasizing his words with rough thrusts as he picked up his ministrations on your clit. "Yes, baby- Fuck- Fuck I love it-" You babbled, forcing yourself to peel your eyes open to watch him fuck you properly. "Yeah you do- Fuck, you're so fucking tight-" He groaned, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back as he fucked his cock into you mercilessly, drilling his fat tip straight into your g-spot.
"Can feel myself leakin' all inside your cunt-" He drops his chin to watch your sloppy cunt drip your arousal around him, "She's fuckin' milking me-" He laughs through a groan. Geto was normally talkative in bed, but he seemed to be even more aroused, you guessed it had something to do with the confession that happened earlier in the car. "Suguru- you're splitting me open-" You moan, bringing one of your hands to press down on your lower tummy, feeling his cock beat your walls from the inside of you.
He giggled, bringing one of his hands to press down over yours, making you feel it even more. "Yeah? You feel me deep in there baby? I'm all up in 'ur fuckin' guts." He laughed, pistoning his hips into yours. Your face was all screwed up in pleasure, your hips wiggling against his as you felt your orgasm build up quickly inside you. "Fuck- yes- Suguru Im gonna cum- t-think I-m gonna squirt-" You say, noticing how the ball in your stomach felt a little different than normal.
Suguru had made you squirt before, and you never got used to it. It felt so intense, and on top of that, it was so fucking embarrassing. Suguru didn't seem to think so, it always made him so fucking dizzy when he made you squirt. "Yeah? Gonna squirt for me when I cum inside you?" He cooed, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as he felt his balls tighten with his impending orgasm. "Yes, Sugu please- please cum inside me- mark me as y-yours-" You wined, looking into his deep eyes as you spoke.
"Fuckkk, wanna be mine?" He groaned, biting his lip as he felt his cock twitch with his orgasm approaching alarmingly fast. "Yes- make me yours!" You cried, throwing your head back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt constricted around Geto's massive cock, your squirt spraying onto his abdomen, wetting his skin and boxers he had pulled down to pull his cock out. "Ohfuck-" He moaned gritting his teeth. "Give it to me- milk this fucking c-cock-" He moaned, his jaw falling open as he felt his cum travel up his cock.
You continued to convulse on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. "Gonna make you mine gonna- f-fuckfuck-" He cut himself off, pressing down hard on your stomach as his hips stilled against you feeling the first rope of his cum spill inside your cunt. His eyes rolled back in his head, bringing his hips back, he fucked each and every rope of his hot cum as deep as he could into your cunt, pressing his balls flush against your ass as he spilled the last of his seed into you.
You bit your lip, trying to stay sane as he twitched through the last bit of his high, overstimulating you when his cock moved a little too much inside you. "Godddd-" He groaned, pulling his cock out as the both of you hissed in oversensitivity. His cum immediately follows his cock and drips out of your hole, spilling down the crack of your ass. "So pretty, you did so fucking good for me baby." He praised, pulling your pussy lips apart to watch his cum slide out of you.
"My," huff "eyes are up here." you breathed out with a smirk, making him huff out a laugh. "Feelin' jealous?" He teased, tucking his soaked cock back into his boxers before he leaned his massive frame over you, embracing the feeling of your legs wrapping around his waist as he cradles your face in his hands, looking between your plush lips and eyes before pressing his mouth to yours softly and pulling back. "You feelin' okay? I went kinda hard." He smiled apologetically.
Your own hands came up to hold his sweats face, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm a little sore, but I think I'll survive." You said, before looking away and pondering, bringing your eyes back to his after a brief intermission with yourself. "Unless you'll baby me more if I say no, in which case, no, I'm feeling absolutely wrecked." your dramatics made him laugh. You took the opportunity to place kisses all over the expanse of his face as he laughed wholeheartedly.
Once his giggles died down a more serious look took over his features. "I didn't just say all that shit in the heat of the moment by the way." Geto spoke, rubbing your cheeks, "About makin' you mine." He elaborated. "Good." You answered, leaning your head up to press your lips together again. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked properly. You pushed him off of you, switching your positions as you crawled on top of him, his hands finding their way to your tits as he massaged them in his hands.
"Depends how well you fuck me during round two~" You tease, wiggling your hips down against his semi-hard cock, steadily growing under the heat of your cunt. "Sounds like you might be my wife in about ten minutes." He challenges, making you burst into a fit of giggles as he sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, attacking your shoulders with kisses.
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aegonstradwife · 3 months
Text
long nights | tom glynn-carney x reader
summary: you and tom are costars, who have to share an intimate scene together. afterward, you go out for drinks to unwind. and after that? it's anyone's guess.
warnings: drinking, friends to lovers, smut. (tipsy sex, oral, fingering, squirting.)
a. note: first thing i've written in a while. please be kind.
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Nerves are already eating away at you as you approach Tom's trailer. Unsure what you're looking for, you rap on the door. Reassurance? Comfort? The director to jump out and shout, surprise!, the scene has been scrapped? Maybe all three?
Tom's smiling face appears as he opens the door for you, gesturing for you to join him inside. "Hey. You ready for this?"
You greet Tom with a smile as well, albeit one much more nervous than his, and step past him into his trailer. "Hey. I mean.... as ready I can be? You?"
You take a seat beside him; though you're finished for now, clad in a fluffy robe supplied to you by the crew, Tom still has a few more minutes of makeup left. Underneath your robe, you have only a skimpy nude-colored outfit on in preparation for the scene that has you so worked up.
Tom's gaze flickers to that robe, obviously wondering what's underneath. You're too busy plucking nervously at your own fingernails to notice, and when you finally glance up at him, he quickly composes himself and nods.
"Yeah, I think so. Well, as ready as I can be too, I guess." He picks up his script, fiddling with it as he watches the makeup artist put the finishing touches on his face. "This scene is going to be.... awkward, probably."
The way he says it causes a dead weight to settle in the pit of your stomach.
The artist currently dusting powder on Tom's cheeks pipes up, though, with, "Oh, don't worry too much about it, you two will be just fine!"
As she retreats, giving Tom the okay to leave, you roll your eyes and sigh, "Easy for her to say," as you hold the door open for him to follow you out.
He chuckles nervously, right behind you as you make your way to set.
The crew has done an excellent job of transforming a standard sound stage into a comfortable bedroom. Two chairs are set up beside a large bed and lights shine down on the room, already hot from the heat of the bulbs.
Tom swallows heavily as the two of you approach and the director motions for both of you to take your places on the bed.
Tom motions for you to climb on, muttering, "Ladies first," and you oblige with a stifled sort of laugh, disrobing and lying back. As he crawls over you, you try to make yourself as comfy as possible beneath him.
"You alright?" He queries softly.
Though you notice his gaze roaving over your mostly naked form, you try not to read too much into it - a half-nude woman could lie underneath any man and it probably wouldn't matter much what she looked like; he's probably going to stare no matter what.
You nod spastically, throat having suddenly closed up with embarrassment and nerves.
He nods back at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile. He props himself up on his elbows above you, trying to ignore the fact that he can feel your body heat through the very small gap between his body and yours.
The director calls for quiet on the set and it isn't long before a loud "Action!" follows.
All in all, the scene isn't painful - with someone like Tom, it can't be. He's so patient and sweet, putting you at ease and cracking jokes whenever the director yells cut.
It's becoming increasingly hard to ignore your own arousal, however, with Tom's bare, toned chest inches from your own and his soft lips searing against yours with every cry of 'action!'
Eventually, the intimacy coordinator calls an end to this particular scene for the day and as you move to roll off the bed, you can't help but notice that Tom is hard. He's wearing a flimsy little piece of flesh-colored cloth that barely covers his lower half, same as you, and it's making it very difficult to ignore what's going on down there.
Tom, however, rolls off of you quickly, trying to hide his erection and avoid drawing your attention to it. Despite his best efforts, it's still very obvious to you, and the way you blush as he looks at you isn't helping any.
You clear your throat anxiously, scampering off the bed after Tom and slipping gratefully back into your robe.
Tom is scrambling to his own feet, quickly grabbing for his robe and tying it around his waist as he watches you with a mixture of embarrassment and - desire?
The crew has begun to disperse, but Tom hesitates for a moment as he stares at you. He clearly wants to say something, but it seems he's not quite sure what. Instead, he stands there in uncomfortable silence, watching you as you fidget with the tie on your own robe.
You shoot him a small smile from across the room. "Not too bad, huh?"
He chuckles softly, returning your smile with a small, somewhat bashful, one of his own.
"Yeah, not too bad."
He sighs, raking a hand through his already-mussed hair and avoiding your gaze. He doesn't know how to bring up what just happened without feeling like an absolute creep.
"Hey.... listen. Erm, this...." He waves a hand down near his waist. "That was just.... I mean, I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"
God, how could he ever make you uncomfortable?
"No, no, not at all." You wave a hand, completely dismissing the idea while also trying to find a way to tell him you're actually flattered. "It was.... fun. You made it fun."
His shoulders relax slightly at your words, as though flooded with relief. But there's still obviously a part of him that's worried that he messed up.
"Good, that's.... that's good."
He rubs his jaw, avoiding your gaze and looking anywhere but directly at you.
"And.... you're not upset at me for...."
He gestures downward again.
You laugh lightly, tying your robe tight together. "Tom, everything's okay. It was a really intense scene, so it's only natural something like that would happen." Right? You're sure it must happen all the time with other actors. You're still relatively new to this, so you're not positive, but it sounds right. "Hey, why don't we get changed and go for a drink? Just the two of us?'
Tom deflates even further at the suggestion; he must have seriously been worried you'd be upset or worse.
He nods enthusiastically.
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. I could use a drink after that."
"Well, don't make it sound like I tortured you," you groan, a blush flooding your cheeks.
Tom runs a hand through his hair again as both of you share a bout of breathless laughter. "I'll meet you outside in five?"
"Mm, yeah."
Once out of your robe and back into your normal clothes, you feel much better and back to your usual self, waiting for Tom outside of his trailer.
He emerges a few minutes later, looking a bit more put together and much fresher than he did in costume. He spots you waiting for him and smiles.
"Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting." He starts for the lot exit, gesturing for you to follow. "I did a bit of exploring around set the other day; I know a great little place not far from here, if that's alright?"
You're always struck by how handsome Tom is out of costume - he certainly has a much better style than his character does.
"Sure, lead the way." You fall into step beside him, loving the heat radiating off of him with every step.
As you go, Tom stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. You glance at him and wonder if you imagine the peachy blush blossoming on his face. The air between the two of you feels charged somehow, the memory of the scene still fresh in both your minds.
He steals glances at you every so often as you walk, though you're unsure what exactly he's looking at or for. And instead of making you uncomfortable, you feel warm and safe under his constant gaze.
"So, what do you do to unwind after a long day on set?"
His voice takes you by surprise in the silence.
"Well, I do like a stiff drink from time to time." You gesture in front of you as if to say 'as you can see from where we're headed.' "But I also like to listen to music, play games, take a dip in a really hot bath.... how about you?"
He chuckles. "I'm not much for baths, to be honest. I'd rather shower, just take a quick rinse to feel clean."
He grins at you.
"But I do enjoy having a nice cold beer.... and occasionally I'm persuaded into a game of FIFA, if the right person is asking."
"You should seriously try a bath some time, they're so relaxing and they really help with soreness and tight muscles...."
Both of you are absolutely thinking about bathing together right now, but not one of you says this aloud.
"Oh God, you would be into FIFA, you're so incredibly British. I mostly play RPG's like Final Fantasy, Persona, that kind of thing."
He snorts a laugh at your remark.
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it. We can't all spend our free time saving the world from monsters and fighting evil overlords. Some of us just like a good bit of football."
He grins, coming up short when they reach a pub about halfway down the street.
"Right in here, my lady."
-
A few hours later, and the two of you are drunk off your asses, laughing at something Tom just said while sidled up at the bar.
You laugh so hard, you lean back and almost fall off your stool.
Luckily, Tom is quick enough to catch your arm and keep you from toppling backwards, but in the process, you end up pressed against his chest as he grips you in a tight yet gentle hold.
"Whoa, whao! Careful there, you're almost as accident prone as I am."
He chuckles, his breath warm against your ear as he steadies you on your feet once more. Even inebriated, you're still aware of the way you fit so perfectly against his body.
You shake your head, staring up at him. Both of you are quite drunk, but Tom at least can still keep his eyes open all the way.
You blink heavily, grasping for his hand, petting over his fingers. "Sorry, I just.... I still can't believe FIFA is your favorite game. It's a disgrace."
You devolve into a fit of giggles once more.
He rolls his eyes playfully, gently squeezing your fingers in reply.
"Oh, and you've got a better idea? Let me guess, something with swords and magic and.... y'know, dungeons and stuff."
He's a little too tipsy to notice the way you're playing with his hand, or how much it's affecting him.
The world spins as you rest your head on his shoulder, still gazing up at him. ".... oh, I'll put you in a dungeon. With a pair of nice fluffy handcuffs."
Another bout of giggles, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Nothing exists right now except you and Tom - not the bartender, not the other guests - just the two of you, drunk and hanging onto each other.
Tom goes absolutely still as you rest your head against his shoulder, his heart skipping a beat at your comment about handcuffs. He's suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe with you so close, the sound of your giggles making his stomach flutter with something other than alcohol-induced nausea.
He swallows hard, trying to gather his thoughts into something less perverted and more appropriate for public consumption.
"Is that a.... promise, or a threat?"
With your head on his shoulder, your nose is very close to his neck. He smells.... divine. A fair bit like stale alcohol, but still divine.
"Mm...." You wriggle, getting situated in his arms. "I don't typically make a habit of threatening people. So.... it must be a promise."
He takes another shuddering breath as you burrow your nose deeper into the crook of his neck, the feel of your breath hot across his skin making him shiver.
God, you feel so good against him, so warm and perfect. He wants so badly to wrap his arms around you, to pull you into his lap, to bury his face in your hair and just hold you.
"And.... if I said I hope you follow through on that promise?"
You take a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, fingers coming to tap against his jaw. The way his throat works every time he swallows is captivating you. "Then I would say.... Maybe we should head back, to my dungeon.... so I can make this fantasy a reality."
He shuts his eyes and lets out an involuntary, needy little groan at your words. His entire body is on fire, his thoughts hazy and scrambled with desire. The only thing he can focus on coherently is the feeling of your body against his, the sound of your voice in his ear, your fingers on his jaw.
He nods, his voice thick and raspy as he finally manages to speak.
"You have no idea how badly I would love for you to take me back to your dungeon." He hoists you up further, supporting you against him as he pets a hand over your waist. "But.... you're very drunk. We really shouldn't...."
Oh, that moan.... he must want you, otherwise why would he make that needy little sound? The implication of it is enough to make you press your thighs together in desperation.
You swallow thickly. "Then.... at least get me home and help me sober up? Would that be okay, Tom?"
Tom is drunk, but not so much that he can't still think straight. Seeing how needy you're becoming, how much you're obviously wanting him, makes his heart ache with desire, but he refuses to take advantage of you now. He'll do anything else for you, but not that. You need to be in full control of yourself when you take that step with him.
"Of course. Anything you want."
He nods, a hand gripping your hip as he helps you out the door and onto the street.
You're a stone's throw from the filming location, but much farther from the hotel they have you staying at.
You fish in your pocket for your phone. "Here, let me get us an Uber back."
Tom stays by your side as you tap at your phone, his hand still on your hip to steady you as you type. He hopes the driver will get there quickly, because having such easy access to you is proving to be more and more difficult as the alcohol continues to swirl through him.
As you wait, you list against him, arms wrapped around his solid torso. "Tom...."
He grunts softly as you practically meld yourself against his side, and he has to hold himself back from wrapping you in a tight, desperate embrace. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the way your body fits against his like a puzzle piece.
He tries to force his mind to focus, but alcohol and the feel of you pressed all up against him makes it difficult.
"Yeah....?"
"Will you at least kiss me?" You can't stop yourself from asking. "When we get in the car."
He chokes on his own saliva when you ask him to kiss you, a jolt of need running through him at your words. He wants to kiss you, oh God, does he want to kiss you, but he's still worried about taking advantage.
You can sense he wants to say no, so you cling to the front of his jacket and whine, "Please?"
But then you're looking up at him with those big, pleading eyes and he can't say no. He won't.
He nods, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "When we're in the car, I promise I'll kiss you."
A grin overtakes your entire face, lighting it up, and your car pulls up in no time. Tom lets you slide in first, making sure you don't just drunkenly fall in, and as soon as he's seated and the door is shut you slot yourself against him with a sigh. "Now, Tom? Please."
He barely has enough time to slam the door shut before you're on him, pushing your body against his with a needy whine. He groans as you press into him, his hands coming up to rest on the bare skin of your waist. The feel of you is almost too much and he has to fight against the urge to just grab you and kiss you senseless right now.
His voice is rough and low as he replies, his lips close enough to brush your jaw.
"God, yes, so impatient, aren't you?"
"Yes." You've always been impatient, always wanted everything now, as soon as you can, and Tom is certainly no exception. "Although.... if you wanted to keep kissing my jaw like that, I wouldn't say no."
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leans closer, lips tracing along the line of your jaw before moving up to your earlobe, where he gives you a playful little nibble.
"Just your jaw? I'm not that generous a man. I want to kiss every inch of you, mark you as mine."
"But you don't want to take advantage of me?" You ask softly, remembering his words from earlier as you pull back just enough to see him properly. Your whole body is heating up, the tension between your legs growing unbearable.
How long have you wanted this, wanted him, and now you have him and he refuses to go any further? Will he still want to in the morning, when you're stone cold sober?
You hate these thoughts, these doubts about yourself.
Tom groans, his fingers flexing on your hips as he forces himself to pull back from you. He knows he has to, but he hates it. He wants nothing more than to hold you tightly and kiss you until you're screaming into his mouth. But he can't. Not like this. Not when you're drunk, not when you're not fully in control.
"Damn these principles of mine," he chuckles dryly. "Because I really, really want to."
With a trembling hand carding itself through his pretty blond hair, you lick your lips in what you hope is a seductive way and not a 'shit I'm about to pass out' kind of way.
"Well. You did at least promise to give me a proper kiss. So. What're you waiting for?"
He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, his thoughts growing more and more incoherent the more you touch him and the more you speak. He swallows, his gaze flickering down to your lips, your jaw, the exposed skin of your collarbones over your shirt before dancing back up to meet your gaze. He looks completely wrecked already.
His grip tightens on your hip, fingers flexing against your skin as he considers his options. He clearly wants to do more than just kiss you.
"God, you're really not making this easy on me, are you?"
You whine, hating how much time he's taking, hating that he might change his mind and refuse to touch you at all.
"Tom, please.... you promised."
The sound of you whining, begging for his touch, is more than he can handle. His resistance falters, and he gives in with a heavy sigh.
"God damn it, you're going to be the death of me."
With another needy sound, he takes your face in his hands and finally, finally, he kisses you.
If the sound that came out of you before could be described as a whine, this one can only be described as a whimper. All your need and desire for him escaping you in one long, low sound.
The driver probably thinks Tom is hurting you with the sense of urgency imbued in that one sound.
"Oh, Tom...," As you part from him, you continue to peck his lips over and over, smaller, messier kisses than before. One at the corner of his lips, one to his chin, another as you nibble at his bottom lip. "It's not enough.... it's not going to be enough. Not until I have you."
The sounds that are coming out of your mouth make him shiver with want, and each little kiss on his face fuels the fire burning in the pit of his stomach. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin as he fights the urge to grab you and pin you down against the seat.
"You.... God, you're so impatient. You're not always this easy to read, you know, making all these needy little sounds."
He nuzzles against your mouth, his breath coming in hot little pants against your skin.
You know. God, you know how unreadable you are from day to day. Can't ever let any true emotion show, can't let the boy you like know you like him, lest he use it against you.
"I'm afraid," you mutter, fingers splayed against his neck. "I'm afraid to let anyone know.... how I really feel. Silly, isn't it?"
His fingers move softly against your skin, his touch gentle as he strokes up and down your bare hip where your shirt has ridden up.
"No, not silly. Just.... careful. You're very careful about how you portray yourself to the world. It's not a bad thing, it's just...." He lets out a quiet huff of laughter. "It's just frustrating sometimes, because it makes it so damn hard to read you."
You laugh too, accompanied by a shiver at the feeling of his fingers on your hip. "So.... if you could normally tell what I'm thinking.... how much I want you.... What would you do?"
His eyes darken at your question, a smirk playing across his lips as his fingers tighten again on your waist.
"What would I do? If I knew how much you truly wanted me, how badly you need me...."
He leans closer, his mouth hovering over the pulse point of your throat. He can feel your heartbeat, quick and erratic, beneath his lips as he murmurs against your skin.
"I'd take you right here in the backseat of this damn car, for a start."
Your hold on him tightens, that tension between your legs finally breaking as your clit starts to actively throb with desire. "Oh, Tom...." You hook a leg over his, rubbing against his thigh. "I don't care where we are or who's watching.... take me now? Please?"
Tom grunts, a feral sound that comes from deep in his chest, as you rub against him. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, but he doesn't care about that right now. All he can think about now is burying himself in you. Claiming you as his.
He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, his voice thick with hunger. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Anyone could look in and see you falling apart under my touch, knowing how badly you wanted me...."
You nod, unable to help yourself. You would like that, would get so soaked to know someone - anyone - was watching you get fucked by the hottest guy you'd ever met.
Just then, however, the car pulls to an abrupt stop outside the hotel.
Lower lip caught hard between your teeth, you attempt to right yourself and your clothes as you exit the Uber with a muffled, "sorry," to the driver.
Tom climbs out after you, offering a similar apology before hurrying after you, walking so close that he's almost on top of you. His hand comes to hover near the small of your back, desperate to touch you but refraining from doing so until you get inside.
As soon as the elevator doors have closed behind you, Tom grabs you and pulls you flush against him, pinning you against the wall as he groans against your neck.
"God, you don't know what you do to me."
Another full blown smile graces your face as Tom pulls you close. "I didn't embarrass you too badly back there, then?"
He laughs, the sound low and rough. He brushes his nose against the line of your jaw, his mouth seeking the sensitive skin along the side of your neck where he can feel your pulse fluttering quickly beneath.
"Embarrass me? No. But you are going to kill me if you keep making those little noises. And you made a lot of those little noises in the car."
The elevator chimes to a stop on your floor, and you tug him out into the hallway with a hand in his. "I can make a lot more of those 'little noises' in my room."
At that, he lets out an almost inhuman sound, a low growl that comes from deep in his chest.
"Don't say things like that, or I might make you right in the middle of this hallway."
He pulls you down the hall towards your room, nearly breaking the lock on your door in his haste to get inside.
You hand him your card key, and the minute you stumble inside, Tom is pressing you back against the closed door and kissing your neck again. "Tom, seriously.... I need you. I've needed you for a while. Since I met you, honestly."
You wouldn't be admitting these things if you weren't drunk, but that doesn't make them any less true.
A desperate sound catches in the back of his throat at your words, at the admission that you've wanted him for a while. That you need him, as much as he needs you right now. He pulls back to look you in the eye, drinking in the sight of your flushed face, your disheveled hair, and he almost forgets how to breathe.
"God, you're going to be the death of me. I've wanted you so damn bad. Wanted to hear you saying my name, begging me to touch you."
You nod, lip caught plaintively between your teeth again. "Well.... now I am. And you.... you want me too. So.... what are we waiting for?"
To your dismay, however, Tom steps away and sighs. "Not like this, not while you're drunk."
You shake your head, and the room goes spinning again. Stumbling against him, you grabs onto the front of his shirt. "I'm not - not even really that drunk. I feel good, Tom, please...."
He's trying so damn hard to do the right thing here, to not take advantage of your current state, but the moment you stumble into him and grip his shirt he can't help but shiver with need. You look so small and needy right now, holding onto him like you can't stand up without him.
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and he grips your waist to keep you steady as he speaks.
"Let's get you a drink of water, alright? And maybe a snack." His fingers are gentle at your jaw, steadying you. "Then we can talk. How does that sound?"
You suppose you should be grateful for Tom's self control, how gentlemanly he is. Not many men could - or would even try to - stop themselves at this point, especially with a woman throwing herself at them like you are.
You take a moment to thank your stars, and nod. "Sure." You let Tom lead you into the room proper, and set you down on one of the beds. "There should be some water bottles in the mini fridge. And some crackers on the night stand."
Tom takes the time to rummage in the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to you before snatching a packet of crackers off the bedside table. He comes to sit beside you on the bed, watching to make sure you're stable before opening the packet and holding it out to you.
"Eat." He's gone into full-on 'protection mode' now that you're in a safe spot. "And drink your water. You'll thank me in the morning."
You lean against Tom as you do as he says, biting into your crackers and washing them down with a mouthful of cold water. "Thank you, Tom. Seriously. You're so sweet.... how did I get so lucky to grow so close with someone so amazing?"
He sighs quietly, his arm curling around you as he pulls you closer against him. He presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, his voice deep and soft.
"I'm the lucky one, darling. Being your friend is an absolute privilege. I don't deserve such a wonderful woman."
You take another little nibble of a cracker, turning into him. "What if.... what if I want to be more than friends?"
His breath hitches at that, and he has to resist the urge to wrap his arms around you and pull you on top of him.
Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair, his gaze roaming over your face. "Are you sure you're sober enough to make these kinds of decisions, love? Because if so, then I'm all yours."
"Give me like, five minutes," you answer truthfully. "I'll finish these and drink my water and I'll be perfect. I promise."
He lets out a quiet chuckle, his thumb stroking gently against your cheek. "All right, love. Drink your water, eat your crackers, and I'll wait however long you need, okay? I want you to be sure about this. I'll be here, right beside you, until you're ready."
The two of you sit and have a casual chat as you eat and drink, and gradually the room stops spinning so much. It's more like 20 minutes than five, but eventually you toss the wrapper and the empty bottle in the trash and fix Tom with a measured look. "Well.... I'm ready."
All the while, Tom had continued to quietly hold you, his strong, steady presence beside you like a pillar. He had chatted along with you, his voice a low murmur at your ear, until you were done eating and drinking.
When he feels you turn to look at him, he gives you a small smile, his eyes dark with desire. He takes a moment to study your expression, making sure you really are as sure about this as you seem.
When he apparently decides you are, he moves in closer, one hand gripping your waist to pull you up against him.
One of your hands curls around his shoulder, the other going to his slim waist. "May I have another kiss?" You ask quietly.
He hums, his hand tightening on your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hip again.
"Of course, dearest."
He doesn't hesitate to lean closer, his nose nuzzling against your jaw before pressing his mouth to your throat. He places soft, fluttering kisses along the sensitive skin there, his warm breath making your skin tingle.
Your breathing quickens, your hold on him tightening. "Tom.... don't take this the wrong way, but.... you could do whatever you want to me right now and I wouldn't say no."
A shudder rolls through him when he hears the breathless need in your voice, and his hand comes up to bury itself in your hair, gently tugging your head back as he nips lightly at your jaw.
"Darling, don't say that or I really won't be held responsible for my actions.”
You've already surrendered herself to him, leaning back against the pillows as his teeth work at your neck and jaw. "But I'm serious. What do you want to do to me?"
A harsh, almost feral, sound rumbles in the back of his throat at your words, and he gives your hair another gentle tug to expose more of your neck to his mouth. He traces a trail from your jaw to your collarbone, nipping and biting along the way.
"I want you to lock me up in your dungeon, of course," he says, and you both chuckle.
Then, "Baby, I want to touch you. Taste you. Make you moan my name until you're pleading and begging for more. I want to...." He hesitates, as though nervous. ".... I want to take one of those really hot baths you were talking about earlier with you...."
"Well, which do you want to do first? Touch me, taste me, or bathe with me?" Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, a frightened bird fighting its way out.
Having Tom, here, looking at you like this is making you feel so weak.
He considers his options for a moment, studying your face intently as he decides. He's practically shaking with need right now, and being given the choice is almost too much for him. He can't wait to get his hands on you.
"I think...." His voice sounds wrecked, his thumb tracing a path up the side of your ribcage. "I think I want to touch you first."
"Then what are you waiting for?" You ask, with a bite of impatience in your voice. You lean fully back against the pillows now, letting your shirt ride up over your abdomen. "I'm all yours, Tom."
His eyes darken as he notices your shirt riding up, revealing a strip of bare skin just below your navel. He runs his hand up your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until he can tuck his fingers under the fabric. He pulls your shirt up further.
"God, you really are, aren't you? Such a beautiful, perfect little thing, all mine to explore."
His words cause you to inhale sharply, spreading your legs so he can get between them. "Tom.... keep talking like that. I can't get enough of it."
He lets out a gravelly groan at that, shifting to kneel between your legs. His hands come up to gently run along your sides, to your ribs, finally coming back down to rest on your hips and holding you still as he speaks.
"You want to hear more, love? I'll tell you anything you want. You just have to ask."
Your hands find his toned forearms, skimming up and down. You like feeling him, it sets you at ease to know he's here with you. "Keep telling me I'm yours, keep saying I'm perfect. Keep.... keep telling me how much you want me. Please."
He tightens his grip on your hips, his broad chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every dip and curve.
"You're mine, darling. Absolutely mine."
He moves down, his nose running along your stomach, his hand pushing your shirt up farther to expose more of you.
"Perfect. So damn perfect. Can't even believe I get to have you like this. It's all I've thought about for weeks."
"Really?" For some reason, you're more embarrassed to learn that Tom has been pining for you than you are of the fact that his face is now level with your bare chest. "Why didn't you say anything?"
He laughs at that, the rumble in his chest making his muscles ripple against your skin. He ducks down, placing a kiss between your breasts before speaking.
"I don't know, darling. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, I suppose. You're just so damn hard to read. I could never tell if you wanted me to leave you alone, or if you just didn't want to let yourself show it."
"I'm sorry," you apologize, petting his hair back, letting your nails traipse down his neck. "I promise not to be so hard to read from now on, but only if you promise me something."
He lets out another low moan when your nails run along his neck. He moves his mouth down, peppering the soft skin above your hip bone with little kisses. When he speaks, his voice vibrates against your skin, sending shudders all through your body. "Anything...."
You worry your lower lip yet again, hands still busy in his perfectly soft hair. "Be mine? I mean.... I guess I'm asking you out. Wanna be my boyfriend?"
He stops. His mouth on your hip, his hands on your waist, his entire body frozen still as your words sink in. His brain seems to have short-circuited, and it takes a good ten seconds before he manages to get it working again.
"You.... you want me to be your boyfriend?"
In the time it takes him to form words, you've had a full blown panic attack. "I mean, only if you want to. We really don't have to. In fact.... It was a mistake of me to ask, seriously, let's just keep it at this."
He shakes himself out of his shock at your panicked rambling, and his hands grab for your wrists, holding you in place.
"Stop. Stop apologizing and stop rambling, darling. Of course I want to be your boyfriend. You really think I could say no?"
"Well.... you didn't say anything at first. I sort of thought you'd had an aneurysm, you weren't saying anything...." Your wrists shake in his grasp.
He tightens his grip on them, holding you still as he levers himself up so he can look you in the eye. His eyes roam your face intently, taking in your anxious look.
"You didn't wait long enough to get an answer before you started panicking, sweetheart. I was just.... surprised. I didn't expect you to ask me." He laughs quietly, and you notice the redness spreading across his cheeks. "I hadn't really thought I'd get that lucky."
"So you will?" You reiterate. ""Please say you will. You want to. Be mine. Please."
Tom huffs a chuckle at the needy sound in your voice, gently moving his hands from your wrists to grasp your face instead, his fingers sifting back into your hair as he holds you in place.
"Yes, darling. Of course I want to be yours. You have no idea how much I want that. I can't believe you even felt you had to ask."
You surge up to kiss him, your hands at his waist dragging him down on top of you.
And he kisses you just as desperately, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you. He lets out a low moan as he's tugged down on top of you, his body falling between your legs and pressing you harder into the bed. His arms slide around your body, holding you against his chest as he slips his tongue into your mouth.
With a desperate, searching hand, you cup him through his pants, squeezing gently.
That pulls an utterly guttural noise of surprise from his throat, and his hips lurch forward, pressing his hardness into the palm of your hand. His breath catches, and he gasps against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist.
"Oh, sweetheart. That.... that's dangerous."
Not caring exactly how 'dangerous' it might be, you start to gently stroke his growing erection through the soft material. "Tom? What gets you harder? The thought of being locked in my dungeon or the thought of taking a hot, steamy bath with me?"
His eyes roll back, and he gasps harshly as you start touching him in earnest, his hips rocking forward against your hand. His body is like a coiled spring, on the verge of snapping at any moment.
"Both of those things are going to get me in trouble at some point, you know that? Those ideas drive me Goddamn crazy. But right now, all I want is to be yours, in any way I can please you, my love."
Your face is heated, feeling him growing in his pants. "Then please me. However you want."
He drops his head, burying his face in your neck. His lips trail along every inch of skin he can find, nibbling and sucking at your pulse point. "Are you sure about that, darling? Because I.... I have so many ideas. Things I want to do to you. How can I choose just one?"
Your shirt is still rucked up around your shoulders, and you take a moment to reach up and yank it off. "Just choose one. Just one, for tonight. For me?"
Tom leans back, just a bit, as you take your shirt off. His hands are on you again in a moment, running up and down your newly exposed skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes a moment to process your words, his eyes hungrily digesting your exposed body.
"Just one, for tonight. I can do that." He slides a hand up, gently gripping your jaw between his fingers. His touch is firm, dominant. "Close your eyes, love."
You trust him enough to obey, immediately, closing your eyes against the light and waiting for him.
You hear him hum, low, approvingly, as he watches your eyes flutter shut. He takes a moment, just to look at you like this. So pliant and perfect. All his to do with as he pleases. You then feel a shiver roll through him, and he has to take a steadying breath before he speaks again.
"Keep them closed. Now, no speaking. Not until I say so, okay, darling? You're going to be so good for me, aren't you?"
"Ye-" You make to answer before remembering his orders - no speaking. You merely nod instead, reaching out to ground yourself with your hands on his arms.
A smile spreads across his face - unseen by you - his hand on your jaw rubbing a thumb back and forth lightly over your skin. "That's my good girl. Just keep those eyes closed for me." He moves his hands to your hips, gently maneuvering you to roll onto your stomach.
Surprised at the change of position, you still gladly curl yourself around a pillow, getting comfortable on your front, your legs spread for him still.
Behind you, Tom lets out a low sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan. He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs, slowly, tracing little circles with his fingertips as he moves them up to grasp your hips. His fingers dig into the skin there, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to hold you in place.
"Perfect. You know how to follow instructions so well, darling. Just like I knew you would."
He said no talking, but. As his hands skim over your shorts, you can't help but ask, "Would you like to take them off, Tom?"
His hands still on your hips as he takes in your words. He gives your hips a gentle squeeze, before sliding his fingers under the elastic of your shorts.
"Well, that sounds like a question, love. And I specifically said no talking, didn't I? But I'll let it slide just this once. Do you want me to take them off, sweetheart?"
You make a small sound, canting your hips up and nodding, making it easier for him.
He hums approvingly as he watches your hips lift, and his hands slide under the fabric, pushing the shorts down and off your legs. Once the cloth clears your feet, he lets it fall to the side before gently rubbing his hands up your legs, from your ankles up to the backs of your thighs again.
"God, darling, you're just a perfect vision, you know that? So beautiful. And all mine."
Your pussy is positively leaking as you bury your face nervously in the pillows and wonder what he's going to do next.
Apparently reading your mind, Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't be nervous, my love. I just want to make you feel good." He then begins to trail light kisses along the back of your neck and down your spine, pausing at each vertebrae to nibble gently at you.
With one hand, he begins to slowly stroke between your legs, brushing lightly, teasingly, over your sensitive clit as you moan softly. His other hand continues to wander over your back and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles and sending shivers rippling all over your body.
Even the barest brush of Tom's fingers over your clit have your hips bucking, pushing back, wanting more of him. It's all you can do not to speak, to beg him to fuck you already, especially since he's instructed you not to.
You want to tell him that you love how dominant he is, but how gentle at the same time. He wouldn't ever hurt you, you trust him more than anything.
Tom continues to tease you, his fingers moving in slow circles around your clit, never quite giving you the contact you crave. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Do you like it when I'm in control? Do you like when I make you wait and beg for release?" His voice is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
He pauses for a moment, pressing his lips to the curve of your neck before continuing, "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you love when I take control."
You're making the most desperate little noises, grinding your aching cunt back against his hand. "I-I thought I wasn't allowed to talk…."
Tom chuckles softly as he continues to tease you, his fingers still working expertly between your legs. "That rule doesn't apply right now, my love," he murmurs, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin behind your ear. "I want to hear you beg for me."
He drags his fingers higher, teasing at your wet entrance before pulling back down to circle your clit once more. "So tell me. Do you love it when I'm in control?" He punctuates his words with a particularly firm stroke over your clit.
"Ah! Oh my god, yes, Tom, I love it. I love when you're in control, I love that you're so dominant, but so gentle with me. You don't know how badly I needed this."
You tilt your hips down, trying so hard to get Tom's thick fingers inside of you.
With a grin against the side of your neck and his hand continuing to work its magic between your legs, he sighs. "I knew you'd like it, my love," he murmurs, slipping just one finger inside of you and pumping it slowly in and out as he continues to circle your clit with his thumb.
He leans down and bites lightly at your shoulder, whispering again, "You're so wet for me, baby. You want me to fill you up, don't you?" He adds another finger, thrusting them faster, harder.
You swallow thickly, wanting him to give you everything. Everything he possibly can. "Please, Tom. Want your fingers, more of them. Want your cock too, and your tongue, and - and…."
Your fingers are tearing so hard at the pillowcase you're afraid you'll rip it open. Your hips are working furiously back against his fingers, it's embarrassing how much you need him.
Tom groans softly at your words. He adds a third finger, stretching you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside of you.
"You're so greedy for me, aren't you?" He murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Don't worry, darling. I'll give you everything you want."
With that, he leans down and presses his lips to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his fingers continue to pump inside you.
When his fingers hit your g-spot your entire body spasms underneath of him. "Oh, f-fuck!" There's that undeniable tension, as though something inside of you is held taut like a bowstring. And he doesn't let up either, continuing to abuse that little spot inside of you with his insistent fingers. "Fuck, Tom, I…. be careful. I'm gonna squirt if you keep.... " You trail off on a whine.
He can feel your body responding to his touch, and he doesn't let up, increasing the speed and pressure of his fingers on that spot, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge.
He whispers huskily in your ear, "Well, it's a good thing there are two beds in this room.... Let go for me. I want to see you come apart under my touch."
His voice is a potent mix of command and desire, fueling your need further as he continues to pleasure you, driving you toward that edge where you can finally release all of your built-up tension.
Every breath you take is now accompanied by a desperate moan, your hips working so hard back against his fingers. That tightness is about to break, and you bury your face in the pillow you hold as you do finally squirt, releasing all that fluid over his hand and arm, and probably on his pants too as you shake apart around his lovely fingers.
Though you can't see him, Tom is reveling in the sight of you unraveling under his touch, your body shaking with the force of your release. He feels your wetness gush over his hand and arm, soaking him in your essence, a clear sign of how much you needed this release.
As you shake and tremble, he continues to caress you gently, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His own desire burns brightly, knowing that he's brought you such intense pleasure. With a satisfied smile, he whispers softly, "You're so beautiful when you come undone for me, my love."
You can barely catch your breath, Tom's drenched fingers still inside of you, soothing your poor spasming walls. "T-Tom…. when I told you to choose one thing to do to me tonight…. I didn't think it would be that…."
Tom chuckles softly, withdrawing his fingers carefully from inside of you and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes as he sucks all of you from his fingers.
"What can I say?" he says with a grin. "I always like to exceed expectations."
He reaches over and tousles your hair affectionately with his dry hand, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But if you want something else, just let me know," he murmurs. "After all, tonight is all about giving you exactly what you want."
"I want so much more," you mutter, turning finally to look at the damage. "Jesus Christ, it looks like a swimming pool in here…"
Tom chuckles at this observation, taking in the sight of the wet mess he helped you create.
"Well, I did promise to give you everything you wanted," he teases, pulling you into his arms and planting a soft kiss to your forehead. "And if you seriously want more, just say the word. I'm all yours tonight." He flashes you a mischievous grin, his eyes full of desire as he waits for your next request.
"Well, let's not get cleaned up just yet because…. I do want more. A lot more." You glance down; Tom's cock is now hard as a rock, straining against the zipper of his pants, which are very stained with your squirt.
Tom grins, his eyes also lingering on the dark stains.
"Anything you want, my love," he murmurs, standing up from the bed and pulling you with him. "Let's move over here."
He moves you gently over to the opposite bed, which is still pristine. For now.
"Can I ask you to take some of your clothes off?" You ask quietly. "Please? I can't be the only one naked here."
A sly smile playing on his lips, he nods and slowly starts to undress, revealing his toned body inch by inch. He makes a show of it, letting each piece of clothing drop to the floor with deliberate slowness, enjoying the anticipation building between you.
He stands before you, his gaze locked with yours, completely exposed and ready for whatever desires you have in mind.
You lean forward toward him, anticipatory, and once Tom is just as bare as you are, you can't help but ask, "Can I suck it?"
A primal growl rips from him as he moves closer to you, nodding eagerly.
Without another word, he takes hold of your hair gently, guiding you down towards his length. As you take him into your mouth, he lets out a low moan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to thrust his hips forward gently.
You wrap your lips eagerly around him and start to suck earnestly, head bobbing as he eases the way with his hands in your hair.
His head falls back slightly, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he feels the heat of your mouth enveloping him. The sensation of your eager sucking sends shivers down his spine, his arousal building with each flick of your tongue.
He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements as he rocks his hips gently, matching your rhythm. His breathing becomes shallow and rapid, consumed by the pleasure you're giving him.
One gentle hand comes to squeeze softly at his balls, the other steadying yourself with a hand on his thigh. You gaze up at him, wide eyed, as if to ask, 'am I doing alright?'
Tom's eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your hand on his balls, the pleasure mounting with each passing moment. When he opens his eyes to look down at you, he sees the pure desire reflected in your gaze and can't help but smile.
"You're doing amazing," he breathes, again almost as though he can read your mind, his voice heavy with arousal. "Just keep going like that."
He continues to guide your movements, hips thrusting forward with increasing urgency as the sensation builds inside him. He knows that he's getting close, but he wants to savor every moment of this incredible experience.
The movement of his hips is making you gag a bit now, not used to having something so big in your mouth. But you soldier on, wanting to pleasure him just as much as he did you, trying to relax your throat so Tom can slide in further.
It's evident that the effort you're putting into pushing past your limits is only adding to Tom's desire - he groans softly, feeling you relax your throat further, so he can slip even deeper.
The sensation is overwhelming, and he can't hold back any longer. With a whine, he reaches his peak, his body tensing as he releases himself into your mouth. The pleasure washes over him in waves, leaving him breathless and utterly spent.
You squeak delightedly, and in surprise, as Tom starts to cum. Letting yourself rest fully on your knees now, you brace herself with both hands on his hips. Trying to swallow everything, only a few dribbles of cum spilling out and down your chin, you pop off with one more lick to his dripping head.
He looks down at you, a satisfied smile on his lips, grateful for the intense pleasure you've given him.
"I really did okay?" You gasp, wiping at your chin. "I've only done that once or twice before, and to be honest…. never on an actual human, only ever with toys."
He nods eagerly, pulling you up to him and planting a kiss to your swollen lips. "You were incredible," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair once again. "It was so fucking good, baby."
He pulls you in for another kiss, not caring that the taste of himself is still on you. "But we're just getting started," he says with a grin, his trembling hands roaming over your body.
You still the movements of his hands with your fingers around his wrists, taking the time to really see him in the dim light of the room. "Before we do anything else, Tom.... I really did want to thank you. For earlier. I probably wasn't.... okay. To consent to any of this. Thank you for waiting."
The heat in Tom's eyes blazes brighter, and he disentangles his wrists to card his fingers through your hair. "Of course, love. You don't even have to thank me. I couldn't let you make that decision while you were like that."
With one last peck to his lips, you push him playfully down onto the bed and crawl over him. "Time for round two?"
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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🧺 Any More 🧺
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.
A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 
You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 
But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 
Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 
You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 
“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 
What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 
You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 
You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 
He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 
You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 
Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 
You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 
“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 
“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 
Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 
“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 
He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 
You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 
“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 
“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 
“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 
“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 
You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 
“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 
“Uncomfortable.” 
“Or at your breakfast bar?” 
“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 
He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 
In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 
Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 
Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 
As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 
Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 
The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 
The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 
When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 
“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 
“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 
“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 
“Spencer, its 2pm.” 
“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 
“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 
He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 
“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 
“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 
You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 
“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 
100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 
After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 
“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 
As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 
“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 
“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 
“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 
“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 
He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 
He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 
“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 
“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 
“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 
“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 
“Laundry?” 
“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 
He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 
“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 
“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 
He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 
“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 
“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 
“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 
Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 
You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 
It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 
The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 
You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 
“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 
You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 
“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 
“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 
“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 
“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 
“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 
You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 
The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 
“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.
“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 
“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 
“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 
“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 
“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 
You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 
“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 
“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 
He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 
When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 
“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 
“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 
“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 
“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 
You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 
“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 
“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 
“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 
Your voice cracked again. 
“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 
“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 
“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 
“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 
“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.
“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 
He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 
“And you deserve a break.” 
“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 
“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 
You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 
“You all had reasons, I-” 
“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 
For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 
So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 
But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 
His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 
“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 
When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 
“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 
A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 
“To me, you are perfect.”
His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 
“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 
“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 
His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 
“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 
His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.
His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 
“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 
“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 
“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 
“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.
“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 
“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 
Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.
The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 
“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 
He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 
You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 
You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 
You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.
2K notes · View notes
saetoshis · 3 months
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꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ SIN OF A THIN WALL | toji fushiguro
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⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: your roommate has complaints about the thin wall you have to share in your apartment
⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:
fem reader, v nasty sex, voyeurism [?], solo masturbation, [toji says 'yes ma'am' once], dry humping, nipple play, oral f. receiving, squirting, size kink, creampie, MDNI.
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toji had just about had enough already.
night after night through the thin, reverberating shared wall of your room next to him, he listens - whether he wants to or not. it starts out with a little creak of your bed here and there, and he knows it’s about to get noisy. he’ll cover his head with a pillow to drown it out, but it’s not enough. he’ll put headphones on, turn up the tv, anything, but it just can’t muffle your sounds well enough.
so he hears it all - night after night. your voice-cracked whimpers, your little jolts that make the wooden frame squeak, the slick sounds as you play with yourself, even your little whiny curses and foul words.
it’s such a pain to him. he just wants to sleep - but, fuck, is it impossible to relax with an uncomfortable, stiff tent in his pants. he tries to choke it down, to remind himself how wrong it is to get turned on from such a thing, to just let out a deep sigh and hope that those little sheep will come dancing by soon - but they never do.
it gets irritating after a few days - he tries to rest, but ends up wide awake with an eye on the clock in sheer bafflement at how long you’ve been keeping it up for. either she’s ridiculously horny or she’s just trying to piss me off, toji thinks. how the fuck is she not done yet?
he grumbles under his breath, feeling exasperated and exhausted. your bed rocks noisily again, and he can hear some soft moaning - he ponders what to do, though, he doesn’t wanna barge in, of course.
“damn it,” toji mutters between a disgruntled groan as he stands up decisively, sauntering in just his boxers towards the door to your room and he doesn’t hesitate to rap on the wood. he keeps his voice low, “y’know what time it is? i’m tryin’ to sleep.”
toji’s met with no response, and his eyebrows furrow in consternation as he presses his ear to the door. did she not hear me?
“hey, you listenin’?” toji grunts out, a little louder, letting out a heavy sigh as his head hangs down in a slouch. the fuck is going on? he hesitates, tensing his jaw as he thinks, what do i do, just walk in? he knocks again, “c’mon already. answer or i’m gonna come in…”
he waits a few seconds, then a few more - nothing. toji’s eyebrows tense up as he rubs his eyes half in exhaustion, half in irritation. he curses under his breath, grabbing the door handle abruptly. “this is fuckin' ridiculous, i’m comin’ in.”
one push of the door on its hinges brings to reveal your half-clothed, shaky figure splayed on your bed with your fingers stuffed between your thighs. you jolt at his brooding presence in your doorway, hands quickly moving to cover what's visible to him, “s-shit, can you not?”
toji sighs heavily, looking down at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere. “i knocked, i spoke up, you didn’t hear. i’m tired, i jus’ wanna sleep but all the noise is keepin’ me up. for fuck’s sake, finish up or go to bed.”
it's hard to describe the way your head tilts in bewilderment at the same time as you freeze up, realizing that he's been hearing you this whole time - what's the main feeling? is it vulnerability? surprise? or maybe hope that he's come to help you? maybe all three at once?
"sorry, didn't realize the walls were so thin," you murmur awkwardly, both of your gazes evading one another in the tense energy of the room. what's worse is you can feel the throb of your clit from how dangerously close you were by the time he walked in, and you almost can't resist the instinct to let your fingers return to what they were doing before. "didn't mean to be a bother."
"it's fine," toji mutters in a rasped, sleepy voice, yet there's something else woven into his tone that you can't quite pin down. he lets his eyes wander a bit, it's rather dark after all, so maybe you won't notice him taking a quick look. "just- y'know, keep it down, maybe."
you nod gently, glancing around, not sure where to look - certainly at him is not the answer - where his arms are crossed, biceps pushed even larger against himself and laced with veins. certainly not where his boxers sit on his hips, the v-shape of his lower abs tantalizing your imagination as to what's beneath that waistband.
and certainly not where the slightest bit of a smirk is pulling at his scarred lips as his mind plays the same little game as yours. toji is acutely aware of your body language - your chest still rising and falling pretty quickly, thighs squeezing together as if you're focusing all your energy on not touching. maybe he wouldn't mind helping you just this once...
"y'know, maybe-" toji starts, tilting his head as his eyes and words both trail off in second-thought. he glances back at you, clears his throat and rasps out, "nah, never mind. that'd be a lil' weird."
"why would it be weird?" you murmur quietly, shifting on the bed all antsy-like as if you could sense what he was going to say. "you can say it. i won't judge, you know..."
"well," toji hesitates for a brief moment again, then steps forwards to the end of your bed and his big, calloused hands find their place on the wooden frame. he rests his weight forwards on his palms, and you can see what sort of expression he's wearing now that he's closer. it's intriguing you. "either you stop doin' this late at night and find some time durin' the day so it's not keepin' me up, or... y'know, we could do it together."
"together?" both your lungs and your thighs constrict viscerally, all air and sense leaving your body as the weight of his words lays on you like bricks. toji nods. he's serious? your face contorts in an indescribable way - maybe ecstasy, maybe shock. "you're serious?"
"ah, i mean, i didn't say that just to fuck around with you," toji lets out a little chuckle between his soft sneer, and you can tell he's being actually serious. his eyes glaze over your body, then meet yours again. "mutual benefit, y'know? not tryin' to lose any more sleep. if pleasing you means i get some peace n' quiet at night, i don't mind."
"okay," is all you can spit out, paired with a blank-minded yet also fervently overthinking nod. you're not sure what to do now - all you know is that there's an eager pressure building up between your thighs that you won't be able to rid yourself of until his hands are on you. your head tilts as you shift anxiously on the sheets, "you mean, like, right now?"
"yeah, right now," toji lets out another dry chuckle as he maneuvers to kneel in front of you on the plush mattress. he leers down at where you're sitting just inches from him, looking all small and pretty with your thighs keening together. his thumb finds your chin, and he leans in titillatingly. "tell me how you like it."
"however you want," you sigh out the words in need, eyes flitting over his green ones, then his scar, then his lips, then his eyes again. it's when he slowly lets his lips drag over yours, then kisses, that you melt into him. your hands find his shoulders, dragging up towards the back of his head to flit through his hair. his big hand cradles your head gently yet full of want, and all you can do is whine, "fuck."
"i know, i know," toji mutters through a little grin, letting breathy sighs escape between the wanton kiss that seems to get hotter and messier each time it happens in succession. he keens closer to your body, letting you slowly laze onto your back on the sheets. his fingers glide along the strap of your bra, inching further behind you to unclasp it with a murmured, "let me see you."
your lungs pant shallowly as he watches closely at the way your tits spill out of your bra once it's strewn onto the floor, surely to be forgotten. the way he almost groans at the sight is enough to make your spine flicker with little waves of euphoria. you want him to touch you so badly you might die. you breathe out in a heave, "please- don't stop kissing me."
"yes, ma'am," toji jeers as he shifts your thighs to either side of his hips, and he presses himself forwards to let you feel just how fucking hard you're making him. he leans down, kissing you fervently, now with little flicks of his tongue against yours and soft grunts. "feel what you did to me?"
"mhm," you pull back and nod, hands grazing his chest and his arms, wholly taking in each dip and curve of pure muscle on his frame. you consider whether or not you're possessed by the way you mindlessly take his hand in yours, sliding it down to your panties to let him feel along the slick mess coating the fabric. "feel what you did to me?"
"fuck, you're nasty," toji pants out between a little grin, rocking his hips once or twice against yours as his hands paw at the plushness of your breasts. what jolts you the most is how heavy his cock feels against you, and you can't help but shudder when you look down at the bulge urging to press through his boxers. "y'like that? like when i grind on you? want me to put it in already?"
"yeah, mhm," you nod in furor, practically losing yourself over just the thought of it. toji brings his thumbs to gently toy with your nipples, as if testing to see what makes you squirm the most. it's when you let out a little whine paired with a big shudder that he smirks, "sensitive there, huh? what if i keep playin' with 'em? you gonna get wetter for me?"
"yeah, turns me on- fuck," you whimper out airily, half-moaning half-wincing when his fingers tweak the buds purposefully. what makes your head spin is when he presses open-mouthed, messy kisses along your jaw, your neck, all the way down to your chest - and it's when he trades his fingers for his mouth that you're grasping his hair, panting hard and begging for friction between your thighs. "toji, please, need you."
"m' gonna get there, promise," toji murmurs between a pearled sneer as he lets his tongue drag on your sensitive nipple over and over again, his free hand grazing down your curves to find refuge between your thighs. he drags his thumb mind-dizzyingly slow along your clit above your panties, and hums, "wanna see how big a mess i can get you to make first."
"that's mean," you whine out impatiently, giving him innocent little eyes in the hopes that he'll slip your panties to the side and just fucking give it to you. but he doesn't do that - he kisses his way down your stomach, all the way down to the damp spot on the fabric clinging to your hips.
"nah, i'm doin' you a favor. gotta get you all wet n' needy first so i can give it to you the way you want it," toji's demeanor changes to one of pure focus as his fingers slip your panties off your hips, his eyes glazing over the slick already donning your folds and inner thighs. he circles his thumb over your bare clit and groans, "that all for me? bet it's all sweet, too, fuck."
you let out a shaky gasp when you feel him press a slew of kisses on your clit, tongue swiping here and there to get a feel for what makes you shiver. it's when he's licking circles, experimentally slipping two fingers between your walls and curling forwards that you're letting out a whimper and pleading for more - there it is.
"you like both, huh? want me to fuck you with my fingers n' suck on your clit, yeah?" the little smirk he flashes you before attending back to his ministrations is enough to send you reeling, thighs wantonly tightening around his head as little jolts shiver up your spine. his fingers fill you in a way your own never could, pressing against the spot that is always just out of reach for you. "losing it this bad over just my fingers? yours don't hit it here, huh? no wonder you've been up so late the past few nights."
it doesn't take long until you're panting in hitched breaths, grasping his hair, shuddering and whining and grinding your hips into his mouth in a desperate attempt to fall over the edge. "don't stop, please- fuck, gonna make me-"
"cum? yeah? you wanna cum on my fingers n' make a mess on my face?" toji leers out the words before almost groaning at the way you're mindlessly rolling your hips onto his tongue, face all tense and mouth agape as you feel tingles start to spread through your spine. all your little moans of 'like that, just like that, don't stop' make his cock twitch in his boxers and his fingers fuck into you just a little faster.
"g-god, oh- gonna cum, gonna cum," you're whining through every little jolt of your body as you shiver all over, fist tightening on the roots of his hair and he can't help but let out a low moan himself. his eyes glaze over the pretty face you make when you finally reel over the edge, and he can feel the slick mess start to smother his palm and chin.
"oh, fuck yeah, just like that," toji jeers as he keeps up the work with his fingers, watching more and more flicks of liquid start to cover his hand each second he continues. it's when your thighs pull together out of sheer overstimulation that he's slipping his fingers out, eyes mesmerized by just how much of a mess he made of you. "fuck, wanna see you do that again on my cock right now."
"c'mere," toji wastes no time before pushing down the waistband of his boxers, letting his cock free of its restraints and into his fist instead. you flit your eyes down towards his hips, watching him give himself a few soft, moan-inducing pumps where he's leaned over you. "think you can take it? wanna see you nod yes."
"yeah, yeah, please," you whimper out now at just the thought of being so full, feeling things your own fingers wish they could do for you. a languid whine leaves your lips when he presses the head of his cock on your clit, sliding down before rocking his hips forwards to bottom out. it's indescribable the way you both moan, immediately panting out and exchanging little grins from how fucking good it already feels.
"jesus- fuck, you're so wet," toji grunts out as he leans down, caging you between his big arms and slowly letting his hips rut forwards, backwards, then again, then again. the head hits a spot that makes your thighs shiver on each side of him, and you can't control the mewed whimpers leaving your lips anymore. "always- shit, secretly wanted to do this to you."
"y-yeah? how long?" you manage to mutter out between moans in time with each subsequently faster rut of his hips, each heavy rock of himself into you that has you both tensing up.
"god, the whole time. if you think i was layin' there- fuck, tryin' to go to sleep, you're mistaken," toji's breath hitches, his hair falling messily over his forehead as his muscles tauten and stretch with each thrust. his hands drag down to grip your waist, holding you stable as he angles deeper. "got so hard thinkin' about you touchin' yourself like that. was hard not to bust down the door n' fuckin' give it to you."
"mm- fuck," you whine in response, and he can feel you get wetter and enclose him even tighter when he fucks hard against that spot he now knows you love. your hands desperately grasp the sheets, his wrists, anything you can hold onto to keep yourself on planet earth. "thought about you while i was doing it. w-wanted you to hear. thought about you getting off to me..."
"oh, god, you're so fuckin' hot," toji's head cranes back for a moment, and you can see his abs viscerally shudder when you tighten around his shaft. he's mouth-agape, panting hard, eyebrows tense and rutting his hips hard enough to make the whole bed creak and shake. "swear i heard you moan my name once- jesus, was so hot. ended up caving n' beat off to your lil' noises, couldn't help it."
"i don't even- mm, remember saying it. just so natural," you mew back, sweat breaking along your skin as you shudder and lose more and more sanity with each heavy rock of his hips.
"do it again," toji's tone is heavy, rasped, demanding. his eyebrows are tense, hands ever-so-slightly shaky, motions getting erratic and faster, more messy. his grunts mix with moans, mix with shallow breaths, mix with the lewd wet noises and smacks and shake of the rickety bed and you can tell he's almost there. his eyes meet yours and his breath shudders, "wanna hear you say it again."
"yeah, yeah, i'll do it, toji," you whimper and your voice is shaky from his flexible, unstable tempo, but all that matters now is remembering his name. you lose all sense of everything else, letting out mew after whimper after moan of 'yes, yes, fuck, yes, toji, yes, toji,' and he feels like he's on cloud nine just listening to it.
"fuck yeah, there you go. keep moanin' my name for me, gonna give it to you," toji's keening for more, grunting and panting and letting out heavy ragged breaths each time his cock fucks against that spot that makes you squeeze him even tighter. it's when he leans back down, caging you between his arms and breathing hard against your cheek that he bottoms out, shuddering and groaning as ropes of white spill between your walls and slick around the base of his cock. "jesus, fuck..."
you both stay immobile for a few seconds, feeling every twitch of his cock and every tautening around his shaft in almost slow motion. you're both panting hard, almost shaking.
"jesus christ," toji is the first to let out a leering chuckle, one with a mix of both astonishment and sheer pleasure. you follow suit, trying to catch your breath as you both eye the mess stickying the sheets and each other's bodies. you're definitely going to have to shower.
you let out a little giggle, and toji's face quirks up in question. you smile, letting your body fall back into its normal rhythm. "do you wish you had walked in on me earlier? 'cause i do."
toji chuckles, too, shaking his head and attempting to tame back the unruly mess that is his hair. "nah..." he leans down, letting his thumb flit along your cheek. "doesn't matter, cause now we got all the time in the world."
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2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost. erm @diorsbrando if u read this n give me a review i will forever b in ur debt i know ur a toji lover pls send help if this is mischaracterized .. i need assistance but am too impatient to allow beta reading JAKLALLALAA
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maxtermind · 7 days
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“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)
“your opinion of me won't change, right?”
( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort
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the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.
for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.
when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.
“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.
you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.
"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.
"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."
lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.
“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."
you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."
his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.
you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.
it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.
so you left.
"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."
he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.
“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.
“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"
the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.
"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."
it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.
all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.
the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?
he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.
"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."
"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."
you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."
he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."
his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.
you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.
"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."
you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.
when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.
you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.
and maybe this time, it’ll be different.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3
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mariasont · 6 months
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Okay , so a smutty Spencer x reader fic where is very alternative with tattoos and piercings. Maybe she works with the team as an entomologist or something idk BUT she always wears her contacts and one day she comes in thick black frame glasses. Spencer goes feral, he's never seen her in glasses before and he just kinda drags her into a hall closet and just "keep the glasses on" there's a lot of fanfics about the reader going feral seeing Spencer in glasses for the first time but what if it was reversed.
Framed Fascination
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A/N: omggggg i loved writing this, you just know spencer would sooo be a sucker for a woman with tats and piercings, so canon
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING xoxo
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x alt!fem!reader
warnings: 18+ minors dni, glasses kink, praise, p in v, dirty talk, degrading sort of, office sex
wc: 2k
When you began dating Spencer, it raised a few eyebrows. Spencer Reid--reserved, a bit awkward, and endlessly knowledgeable--had ended up with someone who they thought was his complete opposite. And to that he would always say, "while the prevailing research suggests similarity is more common in relationships, there's an interesting phenomenon where sometimes, the very things that differ between two people can create a complementary dynamic, much like how two puzzle pieces with different notches fit."
At times, you would point out your differences solely to prompt this response. But, in truth, aside from your outward styles, you shared more similarities than not. Your tattoos and piercings were the first details Spencer noticed and quickly became his favorite as you strode into the morgue on a particularly demanding case. You were immersed in explaining how arsenic disrupted the body's functions, but Spencer was lost in the visual narrative of your ink, his gaze lingering on every etched symbol and shaded figure. From that moment, he was wholly engrossed, and vowed to eventually explore all the unseen tattoos that your clothes kept from view.
Spencer may have had the whole 'nerdy boy-next-door' aesthetic down to a science, but you? You took pride in being called 'intimidating', knowing it was just a first impression. You knew that beneath that surface lay as Spencer would say, 'a cinnamon roll'. Spencer seemed to see through it from the beginning, which is why he didn't hesitate to ask you out as soon as the case closed.
In the span of eight months, your life had been transformed into its healthiest chapter with Spencer as the culprit. He filled every day with thoughtful gesture--surprise art museum dates, breakfast in bed, flowers that would mysteriously find their way to your desk, notes you'd find tucked inside your coat pockets. In fact, if you had seen it in a cheesy rom-com, he probably had done it. You had been tackling each day with a little spring in your step.
Just like today--you bounded into your office humming—you were humming as you went over paperwork. Tasked with consulting for the consumer safety department, your focus was zeroed in on the pervasive issue of phthalates creeping into beauty products. You adjusted the unfamiliar weight of the thick black frames perched on your nose--an odd sensation since you habitually opted for contacts--as your eyes dragged over the papers.
The hum of the fax machine broke the silence, and you swiveled in your chair, a smile dawning as you recognized the documents from last week's BAU case--giving you a chance to steal a moment with your boyfriend.
Paperwork in hand, you made your way to the BAU office, the click of your heels on marble floors keeping time with your quickening pulse. The bullpen was a whirlwind of activity as you greeted Morgan and Prentiss with a nod and smile, your gaze sweeping through the room until it landed on him. 
"Hi there, handsome," you greeted with a playful lilt in your voice, your fingers rapping gently against the wood of his desk.
"Hi, sweetheart--," he began, but his words trailed off as his eyes met yours. There was a pause, a momentary lapse in his ever-flowing stream of thoughts, as he took in the sight of you.
Glasses? He couldn't recall you ever wearing glasses, yet there they were, and the effect was undeniable. The sight sent a wave of unexpected thrill through him--a visceral reaction that left him speechless, his lips parting in awe. 
Spencer's throat cleared, a subtle sound amid the bullpen's activity. His gaze flickered around the room, a silent plea that his colleagues were too engrossed in their work to notice the way he practically undressed you with his eyes. "Since when do you wear glasses?"
"Since I nearly scratched my eye out trying to get my contacts in this morning," you said with a laugh, though the action of straightening your glasses was more of a nervous tic.
His stare was unyielding--intense and almost piercing. It unsettled you slightly as you studied his expression, your head tilting inquisitively as he said nothing else. 
"Well, uh, anyway I have to drop this off to Hotch," you murmured, your voice trailing off as you felt the weight of Spencer's penetrating gaze. 
You lingered for a heartbeat too long, hoping for a word, a smile--anything. But nothing came. With a shaky breath, you turned away, hands trembling ever so slightly as you handed the paperwork to Hotch. You whisked yourself back to the comfort of your office. The was weird, right? I mean, sure, Spencer had never been one for being overly affectionate in public, but he at least had more to say than that.
You pushed the nagging doubts to the back of your mind, focusing on the monotony data and figures that sprawled across your reports. He was probably just having a bad day, too maybe theoretical thoughts brewing in the beautiful mind of his.
The hours crawled by, each minute punctuated by the drone of the office--uninteresting reports, pesky coworkers, and the persistent buzz of thoughts circling back to Spencer. When it was an appropriate time to take your lunch, you pushed your laptop aside with a little too much eagerness, hands diving into your bag for your food. 
But before you could do that, a soft interruption at the door caught your attention. Your head snapped up, meeting Spencer's gaze as he leaned causally against the frame of the door.
He stood there, watching as you glanced up at him, the rims of your glasses framing your eyes in a way that made an involuntary shiver down his spine, his gaze lingering on your face. You appeared tired, yes, but the image of you like this had been imprinted on his mind all day, rendering his work secondary to the thought of seeing you again. 
"Spence, hi," you greeted, a sweet smile blooming on your lips as you peered up at him. Your brows knit together slightly; his visits were rare unless case-related. "I was just about to take my lunch, wanna join?"
"No," he replied with a swift shake of his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a knowing smirk. "Could I borrow you for a second?"
Your gaze returned to the lunch that lay before you, untouched and suddenly unappealing. Letting out a small sigh, you nodded. "Sure," you replied, still trying to piece together Spencer's odd behavior today.
He tilted his head back subtly, a silent cue for you to follow him. You obliged without hesitation, following after him, your steps echoing his through the hallway. Your confusion mounted, etched into the deepening furrow of your brows with each corner turned. 
"Spencer," you said, a giggle escaping your lips. "I trust you're not taking me down some ominous hallway to meet my untimely end?"
"Actually, it is an interesting fact that the majority people meet their 'untimely end' at the hands of someone they love." 
"Great, thank you for that, I think that's my cue," you joked, pivoting away in an attempt to make a dramatic exit. But Spencer's reflexes were quick, his grasp secure on your wrist as he steered you into the nearest supply closet. The small space muffled your surprised oomph as you nearly collided with a stack of supplies.
You stumbled into the warmth of his chest, your glasses skewing comically as you steadied them with a fingertip. "Spencer! What has gotten into you?"
"You," came his growl, rough and urgent, while his hands frantically sought your legs, pinning you against the wall.
A soft moan slipped through the surprise of parted lips as his lips found yours. Your fingers tangled in the soft locks of his hair, pulling him closer, your mouth meeting his with the same intensity. 
Your laughter mingles with the kiss as you pull back, lips brushing. "Not that I'm complaining, Agent Reid, but someone is definitely going to catch us."
His eyes meet yours, equally amused as he pins your hands over your head. He makes quick work of open-mouthed kisses on your neck, your body instantly melting into his as his teeth scrape along your sweet spot. "Don't care."
His lips trailed back to yours, his fingers fumbling to push your skirt up to your stomach. You let out a surprised gasp into his mouth, finding the sudden intensity of him incredibly hot. He pressed his thumb into your clit as you dug your fingers into the nape of his neck, your head lolling back as you all but thrusted into his hand. The room swirled with heat, your glasses misting up. You reached for the pesky frames, but his fingers intercepted, pining them against your chest.
"Those stay on, sweetheart." The words tickled your ear, intimate and close, as his fingers traced through your slick folds, coaxing a contented pant from you.
"That's what's got you all worked up, Spence?" You moaned out as his fingers glided over your skin, now slick, drawing a line of warmth up your body. 
He settled his thumb on your tongue, shutting you up as he grabbed a handful of your ass. You wrapped your lips around it, savoring the taste as your eyes locked with his over the foggy veil of your glasses. His gaze held a quiet pride as he smirked. 
"Drove me crazy seeing you like that this morning." He said as he ground his body into yours, his erection settling on your stomach. "Makes you look so fuckable. Couldn't focus on anything else."
Your mouth vibrated softly around his thumb, muffled as he drew it away with pop. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, shoving down his pants and boxers just enough to release his length.
Your mouth watered at the sight, your body instinctively lowering to your knees, but his hand was there stopping you with a firm, "No time."
He pinned your shoulders to the wall with his body, his mouth crashing with yours with desperate need. Your mouth fell open into his as you felt his length press into your opening, his fingers holding your panties aside.
"You feel so good, sweetheart."
You don't think you would ever get over the feeling of him inside you, the way he stretched you out just right. You let out an unrestrained moan as he proceeded to pump inside you, his movements ruthless.
His palm sealed over your lips, a sudden barrier that sent warmth spreading across your face, glasses clouding rapidly, obscuring your view. "Quiet, baby. You want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me? Letting me fuck you in the office?"
You all but sobbed against his palm, your hands fisting the material of his sweater as he continued to abuse your pussy with deep strokes.
"Sp-Spence, please baby," you managed to breathe out as he released his hold on your mouth, grinding against him in an attempt at friction with your sensitive clit.
"What do you need, sweetheart?" He questioned, almost condescendingly as his fingers traced your cheek gently, a stark contrast to the way he pounded into you. "Need me to take care of you?"
"Please," you choked out.
"You're so good for me, baby." He said, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as he pressed his thumb to the part of you that ached most. You let out a sob of relief as you ground against his movements, the familiar coil in your stomach beginning to wind up as you clutched at Spencer's face.
"Spencer, shit, 'm so close," you babbled, tears welling in your eyes as each of his thrusts seemed to urge the ache.
"Go ahead, baby." He moaned as his you felt his thighs twitch against you. "Come on my cock, sweet girl."
His words were all you needed to push you off the edge, your back arching against the wall as your legs shook, threatening to collapse as a wave of pleasure washed over you. He came shortly after you, his form yielding to gravity as his head nestled into the crook of your shoulder, both of you panting softly as you tried to catch your breath.
After savoring a few heartbeats of content, he gently disentangled himself from you. His fingers deftly rearranging your skirt, with a touch so soft, so different from his demeanor two minutes ago. 
"Guess I need to wear the glasses more often, huh?"
A soft laughter bubbled up from him, his fingers lightly grazing under your eyes, brushing away the stray smudges of makeup. "Please do."
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lipglossanon · 5 months
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Dirty Little Secret
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Stepson!Leon S. Kennedy x Stepmom!Reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pseudo incest, cheating, loveless marriage? lol, mommy kink, breeding kink, mentions of lactation kink, dirty talk, noncon, slight somno, mention of a rape play scenario, unprotected sex, creampie
not proofread ✍️ just smut
title from Dirty Little Secret by The All American Rejects
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You thought it was love. This guy wined and dined you then showed you the world. So when he proposes to you only three months into your relationship, you’re so smitten that you agree before he even finishes asking. 
It must’ve been the honeymoon phase because a year later, you’re stuck at home while he galivants around the globe for his business. It’s not like you have a hard time, but you’re lonely, done begging for attention from a man who apparently just wanted someone to live in his empty house while he’s gone. 
Then after months of stilted phone calls and cut short video chats, he drops by only to surprise you with a son from a previous marriage. Something you knew nothing about. After introducing Leon to you, he leaves him there—some flimsy excuse of letting you two get to know each other—and is off again once more. 
Leon smiles at you as his dad leaves, “Sorry to drop in like this.”
Your frown smooths out as you take a deep breath, “Not your fault, sorry if I’m off kilter. He didn’t even tell me about you til now.”
You wince after saying the words out loud but Leon only laughs. 
“It’s okay. I’ll stay out of your hair as much as possible.”
You wave your hand, “Don’t be silly, it’ll be nice to have company again.”
He smiles again but this one makes you feel a little more on edge, something about the way it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. 
“Well then, I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire.”
You settle into a new routine, Leon fitting into your day to day pretty easily. He’s sarcastic and mouthy, but it beats only having yourself for company. Your husband dropped off his son in late January and it’s now early May; it’s like you blinked and realized you haven’t even had anyone else visit except for Leon’s actual mom. (She’s surprisingly a sweetheart and quite helpful even if she makes Leon all moody to have her in your shared space). 
It’s after one such visit that left Leon in an irritable mood where you decide to have a little movie night in order to cheer him up. You’re unsure as to what started it this time, but the ex missus just gave you a quick smile and wave goodbye as Leon stormed off upstairs. Taking in a deep breath, you rap your knuckles on his closed door and listen for any movement.
Half a minute passes by before you hear him walk over and open the door. You take in his sweats and loose white tee. Good, it doesn’t look like he's headed out—you tilt your head before looking back up into his face. 
“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, a corner of his lips ticking up into a half smile. 
“Wanna watch some shitty horror movies and order pizza?” You smile, pleased with yourself when he drops his arms. 
“Sure,” he shrugs, tossing his phone back onto his bedspread and pushing you away from his door, closing it behind him, “w’nna order a cheese pizza?”
“Sounds good,” you lead him back downstairs, flopping down on the couch and grabbing your phone. 
Leon sits on the cushion next to you, leaning over to watch as you scroll through the app. 
“Want any sides or anything?” You ask, attention still on your phone. 
“Pizza’s plenty.”
You feel his breath ghost across your neck and it sends a chill down your spine. Scrunching your shoulders up, you laugh and bump against his side. 
“That tickles, Leon,” you shift a little and you feel him move to face the television. 
Once you place the order, you lock your phone and sink into the couch. Leon’s close enough you can feel his body heat, but you know if you move he’ll end up next to you again. It’s something you’ve noticed over the time that he’s stayed here; you’ve only brought it up once and he admitted he likes being close since he misses his mom. 
You frown to yourself as Leon channel surfs, not wanting to start any movies only for it to be interrupted by the delivery guy. For him to miss his mom so much, he’s always pissy when she visits. Maybe he’s just salty that she let him end up living here with you? Glancing over at him, he notices you looking and shoots you a grin. 
“Have any idea on what movie we start with?”
You return his grin and drum your fingers against your thigh, “Hmmm, you ever watch Spookies?”
He shakes his head, “I’m assuming it’s bad?”
“The worst but in the best way,” you laugh.
He studies you for a moment. 
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
Giddy warmth bubbles in your chest, “Of course, Leon. I know the situation probably isn’t ideal, but I’ll take care of you.”
He laughs low in his throat, “We’re nearly the same age.”
You wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, but I’m still older though.”
Lapsing into a companionable silence, you mindlessly watch as Leon zips through different shows until the doorbell rings. After stuffing your faces with pizza, you settle in comfortably on the couch, feet laying over Leon’s lap after he tugged your legs away from you. 
“No reason to stay curled up like that,” he pats your calf. 
Unsure how to feel, you eventually relax into him. If it doesn’t bother him, then why should it bother you? The heat from his lap must lull you to sleep because the next thing you know is blinking your eyes open to some random movie playing on the tv. Another beat and you groggily glance down your body at the new weight pressing you into the cushions. 
Sandy blonde hair fills your vision as you feel Leon softly suck a nipple into his mouth. Without you noticing, he has pushed your flimsy shirt up and tugged your bra cups down. Squirming under him only leads to him sighing softly, eyes fluttering shut as he licks around your stiff peaks. 
“Stop, stop,” you pant, feeling sluggish and out of sorts, arms and legs feeling wooden as sleep tries to cling to your senses.
Leon only laughs and goes back to softly sucking on your nipples, mouth drifting from one hard bud to the other with quick swipes of his tongue. 
“But mommy, you said you’d take care of me,” his low voice raises the hair on your arms, “mmm, and what I really need is to suck your sexy tits.”
There’s no denying the rush of slick that fills the gusset of your panties. 
“S’wrong, Leon,” you counter, weakly crying out when he gently bites your nipple. 
“Maybe, but I think you need this, need me to take care of you. After all, my dad’s not going to,” he growls and roughly sucks the puckered skin around your stiff bud, “you need a husband who wants to stuff your hot little pussy.”
A loud keening moan leaves your mouth before you can clamp your lips shut.
His eyes are bright as a grin lights up his face, “See? C’mon, no one has to know that you let your stepson dick you down on the couch.”
Hips jumping, you mewl as he goes back to lapping at your nipples, hands coming up to grope the soft fat of your breasts. 
“Been waiting for this,” he murmurs into your sternum, mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses across your skin, “fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, mommy.”
The condescension in that one word makes you drip, pussy throbbing for more than just words. 
“W-we shouldn’t though,” you try to get a grip on yourself, hands hovering over his hair, “god, I’m married to your father.”
“Is he here? Is he ever here?” He raises up and sneers at you, “never around when you need’em huh?”
Raising up onto his haunches he gives you a nasty smirk, “But that’s why you have me now. I’m gonna pound your hot little pussy day and night. Maybe it’ll even make you a real mommy.”
“Leon!” You gasp, nipples tightening at the thought, hands digging into the couch.
But he’s telling the truth. Your husband is never home— hasn’t called you back and barely replies to texts. You’ve been lonely and neglected even before Leon got here; so what if it’s wrong? It won’t kill anyone just to go along with him this one time. So that’s what you decide to tell him. 
“This one time,” you whisper, biting your lip as you give in to him, “just once.”
He laughs, “Sure, I can work with that.”
Once turns into twice. 
“It’s still just the one time,” you pant as he fucks into your squelching pussy, face mashed against the armrest of the couch, “it’s still the same round.”
“Sure, mommy,” he murmurs in your ear and you clamp down on him tighter, “whatever you say.”
Which turns into three and four and then five…
By the next afternoon, you're bouncing on your stepson’s fat cock in your own marriage bed. 
“Fuck, fuck, I need it, please, I wanna cum,” you whimper, grinding down onto Leon’s dick, “please.”
“Take it then, mommy, take your son’s cock deep in that little pussy,” he growls, thumb rubbing your clit in tight rough circles. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, eyes rolling back as Leon’s fat tip kisses your cervix, “god, it’s so good.”
“Yeah? Better than dad’s?” Leon asks, flashing you a smug little smile. 
“Uh huh,” you whine, hands pressing on his broad chest so you can ride him harder, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
“Goddamn,” he growls, grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back. 
Pulling halfway out, he bullies his cock back into your sopping wet hole, pace fast and hard making you wail as he rams against your g-spot. 
“Tell me mommy, tell me who’s making this fat pussy feel so good,” he pinches your nipples, “c’mon mommy, say it.”
“You,” you whimper, tears clumping your lashes, “you’re making mommy’s pussy feel so good.”
“Who?”
“My son,” you cry out as he tugs your nipples roughly, “my son’s filling my pussy and making me cum.”
“Good girl, mommy,” he coos mockingly and you squeeze his cock, pussy walls snug and wet around his thick length. 
“I’ve given you so many creampies,” he sighs, “fuck, I hope one of them takes. Wanna drink your milk.”
You shudder, hips stilling, “That’s so—”
“Hot?” He slaps your thigh and you start grinding on his cock again, “these tits leaking milk for me would be a dream come true. Let me breed you, mommy.”
“I can’t,” you mewl, clit throbbing as you rock your hips into his thrusts, “can’t get knocked up by my stepson.”
Leon groans, “It’ll just be the one time. Besides, I’ve been dumping load after load into this tight little cunt. We both know you want it, mommy. Making that pussy crave to have me stuffing her to the brim.”
You lean forward, face pressing against his neck as you moan brokenly. 
“I shouldn’t,” you hiccup, hips writhing as Leon reaches underneath you to grip your ass. 
“It’ll be our little secret,” he humps your pussy, cock knocking against your cervix and making you squeal, “let me breed you, mommy. Let your son breed your fat pussy.”
“I’m gonna cum,” you slur, mouth panting and drooling against his skin, “oh god, you’re gonna make me cum.”
“Next time, I want you to fight me,” he whispers in your ear and you moan, “fight me so when I pin you down, I’ll be raping your hot wet pussy until you cream all over my cock, mommy.”
Your nails dig into his back and you scream, orgasm wiping out your thoughts as your body thrashes under Leon.
“I’m cumming, fuck, mommy, gonna fill you up again,” he rambles, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy as you continue to orgasm. 
The last thing you see is Leon’s blue eyes staring down at you as your pussy milks his cock while he spurts rope after rope of thick cum inside your clenching hole. 
You wake up sometime later with Leon running his fingers along your arm and shoulder. 
“You okay?”
You hum and nod, stretching out along the bed, feeling a slight twinge in your hips. 
“May’ve over done it,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. 
Leon laughs and drops a kiss to your head. 
“Yeah I got that after you passed out.”
Giggling, you turn on your side to face him. 
“Need to drink more water I guess.”
He nods, a funny sort of smile overtaking his features. 
“You’re not gonna tell anyone right?”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “Why would I? Even if we’re both adults, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be happy it happened.”
Sighing, you push up until you can swing your legs over the side of the bed. 
“I’m gonna take a shower.”
Standing up, your thighs shake but you’re able to walk over to the en-suite bathroom. At the doorway, you turn back to see Leon staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. You bite your lip knowing what you’re about to say isn’t a good idea, but what the hell. You’re already in it this far. 
“If you wash my back, I’ll wash yours,” tone flirty as you smile at him. 
Not waiting for an answer, you walk into the bathroom, listening as the sheets ruffle from Leon climbing out of bed to follow you.  
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trashogram · 8 months
Text
He Chose You (Pt.1)
Lucifer/Reader
Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End
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There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.
The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.
It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 
You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.
After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”
Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 
Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…
‘Quack’
You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 
“Oh!”
     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 
“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.
You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 
Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 
“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.
The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”
Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.
“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 
     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 
It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 
“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 
‘Quack’ 
The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 
Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).
Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 
“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”
A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 
The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.
“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”
“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”
You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 
“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 
As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 
“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 
She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 
“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 
“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 
“Thank —”
“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 
Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 
You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 
“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”
Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 
Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 
What? Was she afraid of the duck?
In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 
“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”
You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 
It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 
The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 
“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 
“Say, how long have you been here?” 
You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”
Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”
“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 
“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 
“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”
“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”
“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”
Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 
“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.
“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 
Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 
“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”
Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 
‘What the fuck just happened?’
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devil-in-hiding · 1 month
Text
cw: violence
okay it’s 3 am and i’m soft for neighbor simon because imagine he teaches you a code, one knock on the wall separating y’all’s apartments just means “hey”
two raps mean “goodnight”
the most important one he taught you was three bangs, telling you that if he ever heard those three bangs he would be there in a blink of an eye
Simon shooting out of bed when there’s three bangs right next to his head, a sharp cry of “Simon!” tearing through him as he busts his own apartment door down, all but ripping yours off its hinges to get to you
the glass of your balcony door is shattered, and he hears shuffling down the hall and there’s fire in his veins as he slinks his way down the hallway
a masked man is struggling to keep you held down, and Simon feels a swell of pride at seeing you kicking and biting, trying with all your strength to get this intruder off of you
“Close your eyes little bird.” Is all you hear from the hall, the man’s grip on your wrist loosening and you do as Simon said, squeezing your eyes shut
The man’s hands are gone, a startled grunt leaving him, then a sickly ‘crack’
“Don’t look little bird. Keep your eyes closed.” He orders you, and you listen, even as the tears burn the corner of your eyes
You feel strong arms scoop you up, Simon tucking your face into his neck.
“Shhh, I’ve got you beautiful. He’s not gonna hurt you love.” He whispers into your ear, carrying you out of your room. You don’t need to be here anymore, not where he can’t protect you, keep you safe from the cruel hands of the world.
He finds his bed looks much better with you in it anyways.
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alilreader · 4 months
Text
Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Getting Flustered
requests open!!!!!!
“This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” prompt by thepromptswhisper
contains: idk mild smut? they makeout. gets caught. sneaking out. characters are 3rd years, 18yos. probably doesnt follow canon due to me not knowing if theyre still in dorms by 3rd year.
warnings: mild smut, snacks, teasing
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You giggled to yourself, quietly of course, as you snuck through the darkened UA dorms. Excitement filled your veins as you thought about your actions.
"He's gonna love this..." you let your mind wander, as you clutched the handmade treats closer to your chest.
The truth is, you'd had a little something of a crush on a certain blonde for awhile now. He constantly crossed your mind at the most inopportune times.
That's what led you to sneaking around, just to visit his dorm, at 3am.
You'd known he was up, especially as your phone buzzed in your pajamas' pocket. No doubt a message from him. You confirmed this, as you gently removed your phone from it's place in your pocket.
💥Bakugou: Y/N, if you send me one more cat gif im going to blow you up 💥Bakugou: Serves you right going quiet on me 💥Bakugou: Y/N?
As you read the last message, you felt a twang of guilt from leaving him on delivered for so long. In reality, it'd only been about 15 minutes from his first message.
You chuckled lightly, at his clinginess. He would never admit it, but you knew deep down he cared about you to some extent.
Slowly, but surely, you eventually found your place in front of his dorm room. You rapped your fist on the door lightly, careful not to wake his neighbors.
You could hear a muffled groan from the other side, and even the clatter of objects as his footfalls neared the door. Your anxiety spiked for a split second. Had this been a bad time?
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a grumpy looking Bakugou met your gaze. His crimson eyes softened at the sight of you, a slow blush rising to his cheeks.
You couldn't help but admire his build. His muscle glistened with sweat, the small lights littering the dorms basking him with a beautiful grace.
His bicep flexed as he held the door open, the divots catching your attention, as you followed his arm up to his face with your gaze.
"What the hell are you doing out here, dumbass?" the broad shouldered man grumbled, all the while looking mildly pleased to see you.
Your smile brightened, as you held out your goodies, a peace offering.
He scanned the box of treats, before inviting you inside, taking them in his grasp. You excitedly followed behind him, the scent of his room hitting you like a truck.
Due to his quirk, he produces a huge amount of sweat. While this is good for combat, it's rather embarrassing for his ego. For you, however, you just recognized the smell as him.
You scanned his room appreciatively, looking over the decor.
"Bakugou! I didn't know you were a collector!" you gasped, excitedly as you looked over some of his All Might merch. You knew he was a fan, but a nerd? Wow.
Before he could think much about it, munching on his new snacks, he found himself mumbling, "'S Katsuki..."
A bright blush quickly rose to his cheeks, heating him as he realized the weight of his words.
Sure, you two were close, known each other even before UA. But this was a new level of closeness.
Your grin widened at the new bond, "Right, Katsuki," you said, turning around. At the sight of him, blushing furiously, head in his hands, you couldn't help but blush yourself.
As if sensing your amusement, his flustered state turned to one of mild anger. You knew it wasn't directed at you. You couldn't help but laugh as he spat his words.
"This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” he trailed off, thinking.
"You'll what, Katsuki?" you teased, almost jumping in place with excitement.
You were met with a growl in return, as he fought not to blow little explosions in your face. He floundered for a response, before settling on one that would fluster you just as much.
"You'll have to kiss me," he smirked, watching your face light up a cherry red.
"Um.. but to do that.. I'd have to actually tell someone... and then.. that must mean, um do you NOT want to kiss me than?" you mumbled, more to yourself thn anything as you stuttered out your response.
He grumbled at your stupidity. Of course, you'd take it literally and not as an invitation.
Without a second thought he was across the room, quickly covering the space between you. With each step he took forward, you took one back. It wasn't long before he had you pressed up against his desk.
His hands found themselves on both sides of your body, trapping you. "I see the way you look at me, always so observant. It's like you like me or something..." he whispered into your ear, sweeping your hair away.
"W-what? That's crazy!! I-I observe everyone! Equally!" he laughed, as you stumbled over your words.
He pressed a small kiss to your earlobe, so softly, you barely registered it. Your face was heated, so warm he could feel it radiating off of you.
To say you were embarrassed was an understatement.
His right hand found your chin, clasping it between his index and his thumb. You found yourself leaning into his grasp, eyes falling shut as you relaxed.
"Your face is a dead giveaway," Bakugou mumbled, with the confidence of a thousand men.
Before you could respond, or even open your eyes, you felt a hot mouth on yours, pressing you further into the desk.
His left hand found your waist, as your hands found his hair, tugging at small strands.
He nibbled your lower lip, wanting to be let in. You obliged, and found his tongue meeting yours.
The hand nestled in his hair soon found his back, as you traced every muscle. You could feel him smirking against your mouth, but all you could think about was how amazing he was at kissing you.
A twinge of jealousy filled you, as you thought about who he had practiced with. This just made you kiss him harder, a wave of possession washing over you.
Your mouths mended together as if they were made for each other. Your tongues, perfectly in sync.
His hand brought your waist closer to his navel, your chests pressed together. A moan was pulled from your throat.
As you were learning each other's bodies, you were broken apart by a knock at the door, followed by a disgruntled voice, "Break it up.. Y/N, come on out."
Your face flushed in embarrassment. "Yes, sir..."
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mcondance · 1 year
Text
come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
4K notes · View notes
loaksky · 1 year
Text
— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔
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mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k
you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!
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tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)
an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.
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neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.
ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.
neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.
neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.
yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.
eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.
“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.
“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”
neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.
“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.
your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.
“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”
“i’ll pass.”
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.
“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”
“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”
and the door is shutting in your face.
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neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.
has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).
“morning,” you smile.
you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).
“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”
“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”
“…i’m not.”
you beam.
“great!”
you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.
neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.
“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.
“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.
“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.
“girl in 5a.”
first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.
jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”
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neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.
she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.
neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.
little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.
neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.
neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.
neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.
“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.
neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.
“morning, 5a.”
neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.
you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.
you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.
“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.
“hey,” you sigh.
“long day?” she humors you.
the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.
and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.
(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).
so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.
ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.
“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”
that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.
“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”
“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”
ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.
“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”
you’re grinning.
“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”
ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.
“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”
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neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.
the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.
you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.
you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.
little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.
meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.
everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).
neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).
neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.
neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.
you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.
neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.
neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.
neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.
you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.
you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.
you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.
it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.
it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.
probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.
you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.
you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!
it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.
you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.
you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.
you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.
you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.
your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.
regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.
your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.
it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.
you end up sleeping in the living room that night.
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neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.
neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.
“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.
“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”
neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.
(yeah, that’s totally it).
“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.
she huffs a breath, defensive.
“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”
oh—
you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.
you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.
in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.
“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”
“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”
“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”
neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.
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neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.
it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.
you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.
neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.
they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.
she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(
realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.
neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.
hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.
neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.
but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.
“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.
“yeah,” you hum.
“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.
“thanks.”
neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.
“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”
“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”
a blanket of silence.
“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”
the elevator dings and the doors part.
“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.
neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.
neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?
neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.
neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.
neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.
“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.
“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”
“you miss her,” he fills in.
ellie turns red.
“fuck you, i don’t—”
“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”
ellie swallows, lips pursing.
“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”
“fuck you—”
“for someone who likes bitches you—”
ellie groans.
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neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.
and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.
you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.
she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.
“been doing alright?” she asks finally.
you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.
you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.
“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”
ellie hums.
“how’s work?”
“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.
neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.
neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.
“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”
your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.
“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.
it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.
“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”
“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”
and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—
“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”
your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.
“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.
ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.
“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.
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neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.
neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.
neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.
you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.
neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.
“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.
“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.
“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”
“i do not love her,” ellie barks.
jesse smirks.
“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.
“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”
“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”
“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.
“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”
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neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.
who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.
neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.
neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.
neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.
she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.
you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—
“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.
“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.
you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.
she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.
“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i was, er, in the area?”
one of your eyebrows raise.
“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.
it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.
“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”
the words after are a silent insinuation.
god knows i did.
you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.
“i like you.” she says suddenly.
you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.
“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”
neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.
she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.
“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.
her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.
“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”
“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”
ellie shakes her head vehemently.
“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”
“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”
ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.
“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”
she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.
“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”
your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.
“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”
you breathe out an involuntary laugh.
“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”
you flinch.
“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”
you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.
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18+ BONUS
neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.
she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.
needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.
didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.
neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.
“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”
the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.
one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.
“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.
that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.
especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.
neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.
you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.
“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.
“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.
“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”
all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.
“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.
your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.
you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.
“surprise,” she whispers.
neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.
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