#can't wait until it's finally october | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

romugh · 1 month ago

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CINEMATIC SEDUCTION- BS

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 12th — humiliation, filming, spanking, sensory deprivation

DAY EIGHT || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- barbara sugarman x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!barbara, sight humiliation, filming, photographing?, eating out (from behind!! cheeeers), strappie (b rcv), blowie (r rcv), slight daddy kink if you squint? but like, dont blink or you'll miss it...

wc- 9.973k :) enjoy!

a/n- barbaraaaa is heeereee!! criminally underrated and not written about enough- i'm here to start that change *proud*!! honestly one of my fave characters, been wanting to write her for quite some time now :D i'm planning on turning this into a universe on its own, regularly writing bout these two :) sorry for the late post, got called into work 15hrs ago. i'm till here...)

synopsis- after an accidental photo reveals a hidden desire, Barbara and you dive headfirst into a wild night of passionate exploration that blurs the lines of boundaries. what had begun as a playful mistake quickly transforms into revealing your deepest fantasies and desires.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches - comment or dm to be added :)

You’re sitting on your bed, smirking as you stare at the screen of your phone.

The picture you’re about to send to Barbara is bold—no, it’s downright filthy. It shows her spread out across the sheets, her legs open as your fingers disappear inside of her. The shot was taken accidentally, hence the blurriness, a moment captured without you even realising it until you scrolled through your photos earlier. Her hair is tousled, her face just out of view, but the angle captures the raw intimacy of the moment, the lightning highlighting the wetness glistening on your knuckles.

The memory rushes back to you—the way she moaned softly, her voice breaking into gentle gasps as she clenched around you. You can’t help but grin, knowing Barbara will be flustered when she sees it. You know she has a strong ‘disdain’ for porn, yet she can't resist the enticing photos of yourself you occasionally send her, and this new territory—one of herself— is bound to spark something inside her.

You send it off without a second thought, revelling in the anticipation as you watch the two arrows appear on the screen. They turn blue almost instantly, and you can’t help but chuckle, biting your lip in excitement. You wait a moment, letting the tension build before typing out a teasing message to accompany the photo. You can almost picture the flustered and shocked expression on her face as she processes what she just received. Finally, with a playful smirk, you press send on your follow-up message;

“B, I think my phone accidentally snapped a picture yesterday”

Barbara’s response to that is almost instant—three dots appearing on the screen, then disappearing just as quickly. You can picture the exact look on her face, the way her cheeks must be burning, her lips parted in surprise. She’s probably somewhere busy, maybe at the salon, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck as she reads the message again and again.

A minute passes, then another. No reply. You chuckle to yourself, imagining how flustered she must be. She’s always been the kind of person who prides herself on being classy, the one who scoffs at the idea of porn being anything but trashy and degrading. Yet here she is, confronted with an image of herself in a way that she would never admit to finding erotic—at least, not out loud.

Meanwhile, on Barbara's end, the scene unfolds exactly as you imagined. She’s standing at her station, comb in one hand and her phone in the other, her heart pounding in her ears. She quickly glances around to see if anyone noticed her reaction, but the other stylists and clients are busy with their own chatter. It’s just her, staring down at that picture and the implications it carries.

She scrolls up, looking at it once more, and feels a rush of heat spreading between her legs, her body betraying her. It's not just the image itself that affects her—it’s also the realisation that the moment had been captured without her knowing. It’s the exposure, the rawness of it all that makes her feel vulnerable and a little (a lot) ashamed. And yet, that shame blends with something deeper, an unfamiliar twinge of excitement.

You wait a bit longer, then type out another message.

“I can almost hear your soft moans just by looking at it, baby. You look so beautiful, so gorgeous, so pretty, so mine. See you this weekend?”

She reads your new text, a mix of frustration and desire flickering across her features as she bites her lower lip. You can almost feel the tension radiating from her through the screen, and while she still doesn’t reply, you can tell the effect your words are having. You’ve witnessed how her body responds when she’s aroused—the subtle way her breath quickens, the tension in her shoulders as she tries to maintain her composure. Barbara has always preferred to keep things simple and vanilla, finding comfort in the intimacy of being eaten out and fingered gently, as if anything more adventurous would feel too overwhelming. Yet, you know her well enough to sense that it won’t be long before her carefully built walls begin to crack, and the ache of her desire pulls her closer to you, urging her to reach out.

The days pass in a frustrating blur for Barbara. She tries to keep herself busy, throwing herself into her work at the salon, chatting with clients, and catching up on errands. But no matter how hard she tries to push the image from her mind, it keeps creeping back in—the memory of your fingers, the slick heat of her own arousal, and that damn picture that sits, unsaved, in the depths of her phone.

She’s gone back to it more times than she’d like to admit. Late at night, when she’s finally alone, she finds herself unlocking her phone, her thumb hovering over the photo, wishing you were there with her. Every time she scrolls up to look at it, she feels a mix of shame and excitement curling deep in her belly. Her hand slides between her thighs almost instinctively, rubbing herself through her panties as she relives the sensation of you touching her just like that.

But then she’ll snap her phone shut with a frustrated sigh, tossing it onto the bed as if that could somehow help her regain control. Barbara isn’t used to feeling this way—needy, distracted, horny in a way that’s hard to ignore. She’s always prided herself on not being “one of those girls,” who fixate on sex the way she always thought men did. But now, there’s this nagging ache that won’t go away, an unfulfilled desire that makes her restless during the quiet moments.

At the salon, she fumbles with her tools more than once, zoning out when she should be listening to her client’s chatter. One afternoon, as she’s washing a customer’s hair, she catches herself daydreaming about the pressure of your fingers pushing inside her again, the sudden burst of warmth between her legs snapping her back to reality. She nearly drops the bottle of shampoo, cursing herself under her breath for letting her thoughts wander there of all places.

Every night of the week, she thinks about texting you—maybe to tease you back, maybe to demand that you come over and put an end to this torturous build-up. But pride keeps her from doing it. The most she manages is scrolling through the old messages, replaying your teasing words: “I can almost hear you moaning just looking at it again. Remember how you felt?”

It’s driving her mad, and you know it. You don’t usually go a full week without texting each other, sending each other little updates throughout the day or sending pictures and memes with a little “this made me think of you”-attachment.

Finally, when the weekend rolls around, you decide it’s time to check in on her. You send a simple text: “B, honey, I’m free all weekend. Want me to come over? Just finished my last uni class of the week.”

Her response is faster than you expected, and it’s almost breathless in its tone: “Yes, ofc. Got some spare clothes here already, come fast pls XX.”

When you arrive, the shift in her demeanour is immediately obvious. Barbara has always held herself with a confident, polished air, but tonight there’s a different energy to her—something desperate, like she’s been wound up too tight for too long. You can see it in the way she’s fidgeting, the way her eyes keep drifting toward your hands, like she’s already imagining what you’ll do to her.

You step closer, leaning in to whisper near her ear. “You seem... happy,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Miss me that much?”

Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, but there’s a spark of defiance in her eyes. “Just get inside,” she snaps, her voice breathless, but that familiar edge is there. She’s still trying to hold onto that composure, even as she takes your hand in hers, her movements just a bit too hurried to hide her impatience.

Barbara’s grip on your hand tightens as she pulls you over the threshold, but you play it cool, letting her urgency go unremarked. She’s breathless, eyes locked on yours with a hunger that’s barely masked by her usual composure.

“Something on your mind, B?” you ask casually, tilting your head with a faint smile. You keep your tone light and innocent, as if you’re genuinely oblivious to the tension radiating from her.

She huffs, an almost frustrated sound, and glances away for a moment before facing you again. “Just… come inside already,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. There’s a flush on her cheeks, and you know she’s been thinking about that picture for days.

You step inside her apartment, still keeping that same easy, nonchalant demeanour. “Come inside of you, or the apartment?” you tease with a playful grin.

She rolls her eyes, but the way she bites her bottom lip again betrays her arousal. “You know what I mean,” she mutters, dragging you toward her living room.

Once you’re there, you take a slow look around, giving her a moment to compose herself. You act as if nothing’s out of the ordinary, keeping your movements casual. “Nice place,” you say, glancing at her like this is just another ordinary visit—which it is, technically—when you can feel the heat emanating from her skin.

She stands there, her frustration mounting. Her breaths are short and quick, and you can see the tension in her posture. When she catches your eye again, it’s like she’s daring you to break the pretence and admit you know exactly what’s going on.

But you don’t. Not yet, at least.

“Are you okay, Barbs?” you ask, the innocent tone lacing your words as you step closer, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You look a little flushed. Long day at the salon?”

She huffs, a touch of irritation breaking through her composure. “You could say that,” she murmurs, but there’s something else in her voice—a raw edge that slips through despite her best efforts.

You watch as Barbara fidgets in the living room, her fingers playing nervously at the hem of her dress. The tension between you is palpable, and you can feel it hanging thick in the air, even if she’s trying to pretend there’s nothing to it. It’s almost amusing—her stubborn determination to act like she thinks this is just another evening, like she didn’t spend the past few days with that picture etched into her mind, lingering in the space between her thoughts.

She’s always kept things so composed, so proper, and it’s rare for you to see her this wound up. Usually, she’d have already found a way to distract herself, a way to brush off the blush creeping up her neck. But today, it’s different. You know it, and deep down, she does too.

You raise an eyebrow, letting your hand trail down her arm with a touch that’s light, almost tender. “You sure you’re alright?” you press, your voice dipping into that familiar note of concern, though there’s a hint of playfulness underneath it. “You’re acting a little… weird.”

The corners of your mouth curl up as she tries to keep her composure, but the way her breath hitches when your fingers brush her skin tells you everything you need to know. She’s unravelling bit by bit, even if she’s not ready to admit it. You step back, giving her some much needed space as you turn toward the kitchen. “Why don’t we get started on dinner?” you suggest casually, as if you hadn’t noticed the tension at all.

She hesitates for a moment before following you, her eyes lingering on you as you pull ingredients from the fridge and set them on the counter. As you move around the kitchen, the two of you slip into a familiar rhythm, chopping vegetables and prepping sweet potato fries. The garlic aioli is coming together, the smell of freshly crushed garlic and lemon juice filling the room. You can’t help but notice how Barbara keeps stealing glances at you, her eyes lingering on the flex of your biceps each time you slice into the garlic or mix the dressing.

She keeps telling herself it’s just because you look good—better than usual, maybe, with the way your shirt fits just right, hugging your shoulders and arms. It has to be that… not the way her mind keeps drifting back to that picture, not the idea of those strong hands holding her down or gripping her throat, not the thought of how easily you could make her melt with just a touch. Her breath catches in her throat as she tries to push those thoughts away, a darker blush creeping up her neck.

Barbara’s always been the “sex is special” kind of girl. To her, intimacy was sweet and gentle, much more romantic than it was raw. She never thought of herself as someone who could get off on something as simple as watching you cook. But lately, especially this week, something’s been shifting between you two, and she can’t help but feel her body reacting to your deliberate touches, your casual brush against her back as you reach for another knife, or the way your hand lingers a little too long on her waist when you squeeze past her to get to the fridge. It’s a slow burn that has her thighs clenching together each time you draw near, her heart racing with a blend of embarrassment and something darker, something deeper.

You notice, of course—how could you not? Every little tremble in her voice when she speaks, the slight hitch in her breath whenever you touch her, no matter how innocent it may seem. It’s intoxicating, seeing the effect you have on her, watching her struggle to maintain her composure. She’s been growing more responsive over the past few weeks, her desire simmering just beneath the surface, and you’ve loved every second of teasing it out. This past week—even if it was silent—might have been your favourite week of your life, even.

As you work together on the salad, you can’t resist trailing your hand along her lower back, letting your fingertips brush against her hip as you step closer. "Pass me the olive oil?" you ask casually, your voice low and soft in her ear. She shivers at the nearness of your voice, her pulse quickening.

“Y-yeah,” she murmurs, reaching for the bottle, but her hand is shaky as she places it into yours.

“Thanks, beautiful,” you say with a knowing smile, your eyes meeting hers for a split second longer than necessary.

It’s becoming clear that she’s barely holding herself together, every touch from you sending sparks through her. Her mind flits back to that picture and the feeling of your fingers buried inside her. She feels that familiar heat pooling low in her belly, her arousal sneaking up on her even as she tries to keep her focus on the task at hand.

After cooking, you plate everything, arranging the food just the way she likes it. As you move to carry the plates to the couch, you catch her eye again, a playful glint in your gaze. She swallows hard, trying to tell herself that it’s just dinner with you—that there’s nothing going on. But with every step you take beside her, she feels herself unravelling a little more, the boundaries she clings to slipping away inch by inch.

You settle in on the couch with Barbara, the plates balanced on your laps. That’s a rare occasion—usually, you insist on eating at the table, but tonight, you decide to let it slide. She seems like she needs the break, and besides, there’s something about the relaxed intimacy of sharing a meal here that makes it feel special.

You sit close—closer than usual, purposefully, your thigh firmly pushed against hers as you get comfortable. Barbara’s cheeks are still tinged with a light pink, the warmth in the room seeming to mirror the heat spreading through her body. As the daily documentary about an architect—this time Tadao Ando—begins, you glance at her, noticing how she squirms slightly at your proximity.

“You kept all the episodes I missed?” you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, though the gesture warms your heart.

Barbara nods, her eyes fixed on the screen, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips. “Figured we’d catch up on them together when you had the time,” she replies softly.

Her cheeks flush even more when she feels your breath near her ear. As you casually lean in, reaching over her for the remote to adjust the volume, your arm presses against hers, and she bites her lip. You pretend not to notice the subtle shift in her breathing, the way she keeps stealing glances at your hands whenever she can. It’s becoming harder for her to convince herself that this fluttering in her stomach is simply because of you—or the comfort of having you near.

But you remain composed, every movement deliberately measured, as if unaware of the way her body reacts. When you brush a stray hair behind her ear or your fingertips graze the inside of her wrist or thigh, Barbara stiffens for just a moment before she forces herself to relax. It’s almost like a game now, one that only one of you acknowledges, but both play nonetheless. The closeness is driving her wild, and she can barely focus on the screen in front of her.

As the documentary draws to a close, Barbara shifts beside you, her breath uneven, and you can feel the tension in the air thickening with every second. You’ve spent the last hour teasing her with every subtle touch, every whispered word, and it’s as if she’s barely holding herself together. You can sense that something is about to give.

Without a word, she moves, straddling your lap in one swift motion. Her hands cup your face as her lips crash into yours, the kiss fueled by pent-up frustration and longing. You feel her urgency, the way her body melts against yours as she leans in closer, her hips grinding down on your thigh with a needy rhythm. You can't help but grin into the kiss, feeling the heat and desperation radiating off her.

Barbara pulls back just enough to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she glares at you, her eyes dark with desire. "Shut up, don’t talk," she whispers, her voice breathy and strained as she tugs at your hair, not waiting for a response before diving back in, her lips capturing yours once more with even more intensity.

Your hands roam over her body, tracing the curves of her waist before slipping under the hem of the dress she's wearing. The fabric rides up higher as you slide your fingers along her thighs, drawing a shiver from her with each touch. The kiss deepens, and you can feel her hands trembling slightly as they work to undo your belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle in her eagerness.

Somehow, amidst the fevered exchange of kisses and frantic touches, her dress has ended up discarded on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lacy undergarments. She sits atop you, her skin warm and soft beneath your hands, her breathing ragged as she looks down at you, her pupils blown wide with lust.

You can’t resist teasing her, your fingers slipping beneath the band of her panties to graze her bare skin. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” you murmur against her lips, your voice a low rumble that makes her squirm.

She lets out a frustrated whine, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself down harder on your thigh, seeking friction. “Just shut up and kiss me,” she demands, and there’s a desperation in her tone that sends a surge of heat through you.

You capture her mouth again, your kiss rougher this time, your hands gripping her hips and guiding her movements as she rocks against you. Her moans grow louder, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the thin fabric of her panties onto your trousers. Your hands explore her body with purpose now, tracing the line of her spine, slipping beneath the clasp of her bra as you tug her closer.

Barbara’s fingers finally manage to free your belt, and with a triumphant little noise, she starts working on the button of your pants. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her chest heaving as she takes in the sight of you beneath her. There’s a wildness in her eyes now, a hunger that matches your own.

Before you can say anything, she leans in close, her voice a low, needy whisper against your ear. “Please take me,” she breathes, her hands slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against your skin as she starts to tug them down.

The words send a thrill coursing through you, and with a swift motion, you pull her flush against you, your mouth finding hers once more. You can feel her smile against your lips, the kiss turning heated and messy as the last remnants of restraint slip away.

The air is thick with heat and the taste of Barbara’s kisses lingers on your lips as you pull back slightly, your forehead pressed against hers. She’s panting softly, her skin flushed a lovely pink that spreads down her neck. As you gaze into her eyes, you can’t resist the temptation to tease her.

“Can’t believe all it took was that one little picture,” you say, a playful glint in your eye, “to turn you into a sinful needy lesbian. What would your parents think?”

Barbara’s breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s a flash of embarrassment in her eyes. But then she bites her bottom lip, a boldness shining through as she meets your gaze. “I’m fine with sinning,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky, “as long as it’s with you.”

The admission sends a spark of desire racing through you, and you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. “So… if that’s the case,” you say, your tone taking on a teasing lilt, “does that mean I’m allowed to film you?” You let the words hang in the air for a beat, watching as her cheeks flush even deeper. “Or maybe just take a little picture for my lock screen?”

You start off joking, but the way Barbara’s pupils dilate and her breath catches tells you there’s more than just humour in your suggestion. Her reaction is almost involuntary—her lips part slightly, her gaze locked on yours as if the very idea has unravelled something inside her.

No words are needed; the look in her eyes is all the answer you need. A slow, wicked grin spreads across your lips as you lean in to kiss her, this time softer, letting the moment linger. The kiss feels different—like a promise, a shared secret, a step into territory neither of you had planned to cross but find yourselves diving into headfirst.

Without breaking the kiss, you stand up, scooping Barbara into your arms with ease. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, her arms clutching your shoulders as you hold her close. She lets out a breathy sigh, burying her face in your neck as you carry her down the hall, her body pressed tight against yours.

The feeling of her warmth, the way she clings to you, it’s like carrying something fragile and precious—yet burning with a fire that matches your own. There’s no rush in your steps; you take your time, savouring the way her breath tickles your skin, the slight tremor in her grip.

As you set Barbara down gently on the bed, your gaze sweeps over her, taking in every detail. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, the rosy hue of her cheeks radiates warmth, and the glimmer of excitement mixed with uncertainty in her eyes ignites a spark in you.

“Sit on the edge for me,” you instruct playfully, your heart racing at the sight of her eager nod. The anticipation in the air thickens, making you feel giddy with excitement and a hint of mischief.

You grab your phone, holding it up to capture the moment. “Just one second,” you murmur, feeling the thrill of what’s about to unfold.

“Okay, just breathe,” you reassure her, noticing the way her chest rises and falls with a slight tremor. You start with a close-up of her kiss-swollen lips, glistening slightly. “God, you’re so pretty,” you murmur, snapping the picture. The way her eyes widen with embarrassment makes you grin, but you continue, sensing her desire to please despite her shyness.

“Now, this one,” you say, positioning the camera to focus on her breasts, the lacy red lingerie clinging to her curves beautifully. You notice the way she bites her lip, a mix of vulnerability and thrill in her expression. “You look so good in this,” you reassure her, snapping the picture and enjoying the way her cheeks darken to match the colour of the set she's wearing.

Next, you direct the lens down to her tummy, the slight rolls soft and inviting. “Don’t hide any of this,” you tell her gently, trying to coax a smile from her as you take another photo. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” She glances away, her embarrassment palpable, but the hint of a smile breaks through.

Your gaze shifts to her thighs, slightly reddened from where you gripped her during your earlier heated moments together. “Can’t forget this,” you tease lightly, capturing the evidence of your earlier intimacy with a quick snap, feeling a thrill of excitement run through you.

“Now, this one,” you say, your thumb ghosting over her lips as she watches you through half-lidded eyes. You take the photo, your heart racing at the intimate display, and you can see her battling between shyness and wanting to please you. The vulnerability in her expression is endearing, but you can see the worry flicker across her face. “What if my parents see?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, anxiety lacing her words.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “They won’t. No one will see these, I promise,” you assure her, leaning in closer, your breath warm against her ear. “It’s just for me. Just for me to enjoy.”

As if caught in a moment of daring, Barbara leans closer, taking your thumb between her lips, looking straight at the camera with a mixture of boldness and uncertainty. Your breath catches at the sight, the image almost too perfect to capture. Click.

“Us. For us,” she says softly, her voice thick with desire.

A groan escapes your lips at her words, and you feel a rush of heat flood your body. You can’t resist her any longer; the sight of her like this ignites something primal inside you. You turn her around on her stomach, adjusting her position to display her perfect form.

You hear the distinct click of your phone as you snap a picture of her ass, barely covered by the lacy red thong. The fabric clings to her curves, and the way her skin glows with a soft sheen makes your heart race. Barbara hides her face in the sheets, embarrassment flooding her features.

“Oh, my pretty slut shouldn’t feel ashamed,” you murmur, your tone low and commanding. “You’re so beautiful for me, baby.” With that, you deliver a firm spank to her exposed skin, the sound echoing in the room.

Each spank sends heat radiating through you, and you snap a picture after each one, watching her cheeks grow redder with every strike. You can feel the way her body responds, soft gasps escaping her lips as you squeeze her cheeks, relishing the sensation of her warmth beneath your hands.

Around the seventeenth spank, a soft, involuntary “daddy” slips from her lips, and you feel a thrill at the sound. You recognize the vulnerability behind it but choose not to comment, focusing instead on her flushed face, now streaked with mascara from her earlier tears.

“Look at me, Barbara,” you say, gently turning her back around to face you. Her eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper. You snap a picture of her pretty face, capturing the way her cheeks glow and her eyes shimmer with shed tears.

Barbara glances at the phone, a flicker of confidence crossing her features as she takes it from you. She presses the film button, and you’re surprised by the sudden shift in her demeanour. She begins filming, her hands moving to caress her own body, focusing the lens on her curves.

You watch, mesmerised, as her hands glide over her soft tummy rolls, revealing the gentle stretch marks that decorate her skin like art. Her abs peek through too, hinting at the strength beneath her softness. The way her fingers dance across her body is intoxicating, and you can feel your heart race with every movement.

As she starts to tremble, a soft whine spilling from her mouth, you take over the filming, determined to capture her in all her glory. You start by framing her lovely face, the way her features contort with pleasure and vulnerability, and then you let the camera travel down her body.

Your eyes capture every detail—her soft, beautiful tummy rolls, the gentle curves that invite you in, and the way her skin glows under the soft light. You continue down, admiring the delicate lines that tell her story and the way her thighs form a perfect silhouette.

As you focus on her core, the camera angles just right, framing the way her body quivers under your gaze. Each breath she takes, every slight shift in her body, drives you wild with desire. The moment feels electric, raw, and utterly intimate, and you can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness and pride as you film the beauty before you.

With the heat of the moment igniting something wild within you, you shift your focus back to Barbara. “Turn around,” you command softly, and she hesitates for just a second, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. But the eagerness to please overpowers her hesitance, and she complies, getting onto all fours at the edge of the bed.

The sight is breathtaking. Her body is a tantalising mix of strength and softness, the lacy red lingerie clinging to her curves in all the right places. You can’t help but admire the way her back arches, the gentle curve of her spine leading down to the roundness of her backside. A thrill shoots through you, and with a teasing smirk, you deliver another gentle slap to her backside. She jumps slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips, and you relish the sound. “Move up. I want to see all of you.”

With a mix of excitement and trepidation, she crawls further onto the bed, her movements slow and deliberate as if she’s savouring each moment. You watch the way her breath quickens, the way her cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson. You can sense her vulnerability, see it even, but also her willingness to step out of her comfort zone for you (and herself. God she really needs you to just fuck her within an inch of her life.).

“Hold on to this for me,” you say, passing her the phone. As she grips it, her eyes dart to the screen, where her exposed form is displayed in a vulnerable, yet undeniably sexy light. The sight sends another wave of heat rushing through her, and you can see the mix of embarrassment and thrill reflected in her gaze. She bites her lip, glancing up at you as you make your way to the side of the bed, opening your self-proclaimed side of her wardrobe, the tension palpable.

“Just look at how pretty you are,” you murmur, your voice dripping with admiration. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that?”

Then, with a predatory glint in your eye, you turn around with silk ropes and a strap in your hands. The soft fabric of the ropes is inviting while the strap makes Barbara’s eyes widen, a promise of what’s to come. You approach her, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through both of you. “Trust me?” you ask, your tone gentle but firm.

Barbara nods, her breath hitching as you bind one of her hands to the headboard, the silk wrapping snugly around her wrist. You take your time, making sure she feels secure but not constrained. The sight of her like this—vulnerable yet trusting—fuels your desire, and you can’t help but admire the way her body responds to each touch.

“Now, I want you to film for me,” you instruct, your eyes gleaming with mischief. She does as you say, positioning it in between her legs, giving the camera a clear view of her dripping pussy, glistening with arousal. You lean in closer, your breath warm against her skin, the anticipation thick in the air.

“Just like that, B, nice job,” you coax her, your voice low and sultry. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

With a teasing grin, you gently spread her folds, revealing the slickness that’s pooled there, evidence of her arousal. She shivers under your touch, her body trembling as you toy with her, pushing her boundaries. You relish the sound of her gasps and moans, feeling a surge of power knowing you’re the one bringing her this pleasure.

“Let me show you something special,” you say, your voice dripping with seduction. Leaning in, you spit on her folds, watching as the warm fluid streams down her soft skin. The sight is primal, a raw display of desire that sends a jolt of excitement through both of you.

“Look at that,” you murmur, your gaze drifting up to admire the way her back arches even further. “This is all for you, baby.” The way she shakes her head gently and gasps sends a thrill through you, knowing how much she’s enjoying this. You can practically hear her heart racing, her trust in you making her bolder, and you decide to keep pushing.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable,” you whisper, spreading her folds wider for the camera, letting it capture every detail.

With the phone still capturing every moment, you return your attention to Barbara’s folds, relishing in the way they glisten under the soft light. The way she’s positioned, with her back arched and her free hand gripping the sheets, amplifies her vulnerability. It’s intoxicating. You press your thumb against her wetness, teasingly pushing through her folds, the slickness making it easy to glide along her sensitive skin.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.” You can see her shiver at the compliment, her body responding instinctively to your touch. Her breath hitches, and a low whine escapes her lips as you continue to tease her, your thumb drawing lazy circles around her clit.

“Please,” she gasps, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “I need more.”

You flash a wicked grin, loving how eager she is, yet you want to take your time. “Oh, we’re just getting started, baby.”

With a teasing flick of your thumb, you send her spiralling into whines and grunts, pushing her just a little closer to the edge. You feel a thrill at the way her body reacts, the way she instinctively moves back against your touch, searching for more. She’s absolutely captivating, and every whimper, every gasp fuels your desire to take her further.

Deciding it’s time to explore this new territory, you position yourself comfortably behind her, moving your face closer to her. The anticipation hangs thick in the air, a mix of excitement and a hint of trepidation. You lean in, your breath warm against her slick folds, and then you dive in, your tongue lapping at her entrance.

The sensation is exquisite. Barbara gasps, her entire body tensing at the new feeling, and you can hear her breath hitch as you explore her softness with your tongue. The warmth of her skin against your mouth sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help but savour the taste of her. She’s never been eaten out like this, never this spread open for you, but the sensations are electric.

“Just... oh God,” she breathes out, her voice thick with need as you continue to feast on her.

You hum in agreement, sending vibrations through her as you continue to explore, relishing the sounds of her pleasure. With each flick of your tongue, you explore her folds, tasting the sweet nectar that drips from her. You’re careful and attentive, making sure she feels comfortable while also pushing her into a whirlwind of sensations.

Feeling a rush of excitement, you film a close-up of your actions, switching the camera to your left hand and positioning it to capture the view of Barbara's dripping pussy as you lick her. The knowledge of your phone capturing the sight of her glistening folds, pulsing with need, fills you with exhilaration. The sound of your tongue slurping against her, mingling with the wetness, creates a melody of pleasure that fuels your desire.

As you shift your focus from the camera back to your girlfriend, you can see her body quaking with pleasure. She seems to realise what exactly you’re doing, and it drives her to the edge of her limits. Her breath quickens, and you can see the flush creeping up her cheeks, making her even more intoxicating.

“More,” she gasps, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, don’t stop.”

The intensity of her request sends a thrill through you, and you dive back in, your tongue exploring deeper, savouring every taste. As you continue to eat her out, you can feel her getting closer, her body responding more vocally than ever before, whines and grunts spilling from her lips as you edge her closer to release.

With each flick of your tongue, she becomes louder, her moans spilling out like sweet music, and you find yourself getting even more excited. Hearing her this vocal is intoxicating; the sounds escaping her lips are pure ecstasy. “Oh my God, yes!” she cries, the volume of her voice echoing through the room.

You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach at the sight and sound of her, and you angle the camera to capture her folds as they pulse and quiver around your tongue, her pleasure evident in every movement.

“Look at you,” you murmur, not wanting to break the rhythm, the words just for her present and future ears as you tease her with your tongue. “So beautiful, so needy.”

“Please… don’t stop,” she begs, her body rolling back against your mouth as she gasps and whines, her fingers tightening around the sheets.

You continue to explore her with your tongue, alternating between teasing licks and deeper plunges, capturing the entire moment on camera. Every slurp, every moan, every shudder from you fuels Barbara’ desire further, and you push her closer to the edge, absolutely savouring the intoxicating blend of vulnerability and pleasure radiating from her.

As your tongue works its magic, you can feel the tension in Barbara’s body coiling tighter by the second, each flick and swirl of your tongue pushing her even closer to the edge. Her moans grow more frantic, each sound spilling out of her like a sweet confession. “I can’t... I’m so close,” she whimpers, her breath hitching as you continue your delicious torment.

You position the camera to capture the way her body arches in response to your touch again. Every sound she makes fills you with pride, knowing you’re the only one bringing her this pleasure. “Let go, Barbs,” you encourage softly, your voice laced with desire. “I’ve got you.”

With one final flick of your tongue, you push her over the edge. “Oh, God!” she cries out, her voice breaking as she shudders, her body tensing before releasing into a wave of ecstasy. The sight of her climax is breathtaking; her muscles quiver around your tongue as her moans fill the room, and you can’t help but capture every second of it, the camera trained on her dripping core.

As she rides the waves of pleasure, you pull back slightly, allowing her to bask in the aftermath of her orgasm. Barbara collapses onto the sheets, breathless and blissed out, a soft smile forming on her lips as she turns her head slightly to meet your gaze. You can’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with affection for the girl before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your fingers brushing against her back, your other hand still gripping the phone. “You okay?”

Barbara nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... just... wow.” Her cheeks are still flushed, and you can see the way her body relaxes as the tension melts away.

You take a moment to enjoy this soft connection, your heart racing at the intimacy of it all. “You did so good, baby.”

Slowly, you pull back, reaching for the strap, the sight of it making Barbara gasp and smile softly as she watches you. You can see the excitement dancing in her eyes, mixed with a hint of shyness that pulls at your heart.

“I, um...” she starts, hesitating. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about that.”

You smile softly, moving closer. “This one?” You hold it up, your voice teasing. “I bought it not too long ago, but I wasn’t going to use it unless you asked for it.”

“Please,” Barbara begs, a hint of desperation in her voice that makes your heart race. “I need it.”

“Need it, huh?” you tease, your grin widening. “Okay, B.”

You slide it on, and Barbara’s breath quickens. “You ready?” you ask, caressing her very red and lightly blue backside, wanting to ensure she feels comfortable and cherished.

“Yeah,” she breathes, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “I—Please.”

With a gentle pull, you guide her to get back to her previous position, her body trembling slightly as she settles into it. You admire the sight, her form curving beautifully, the silk rope binding her hand to the headboard just adding to her allure.

“Just breathe for me,” you murmur, your hands gently running over her back. You take a moment to savour the sight before you, the way her body glistens in the soft light, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air. You position yourself behind her, the strap-on pressed against her slick folds. “This is going to feel a little different, okay? Tell me if you need a breather, baby”

Barbara nods, her breath coming in quick bursts as she pushes her hips back, trying to get you to slip inside. You tease the tip of the strap-on against her entrance, seeing her slickness envelop you. She gasps, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding her system.

As you push in slowly, you can feel the resistance at first, the pressure against her entrance making your heart race. You lean forward slightly, planting kisses along her back, whispering soft reassurances as you gradually push inside her. “You’re okay, you’re doing so good.”

With a gentle but firm push, you breach that initial resistance, and you gasp at the sight as Barbara gaps at the sensation. The way her core pulls you in is intoxicating, each inch of your strap pushing deeper eliciting a mixture of pleasure and sweetness between you. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, the sight of you filling her overwhelming.

You keep the camera steady, focused on the way she looks back at you, her eyes wide with a blend of excitement and disbelief. The moment is intimate and raw, yet filled with an underlying edge of excitement. Each thrust is deliberate, capturing the way her body responds to you, the heat radiating from her as you push deeper.

“More,” she breathes, her voice thick with need. “Please, I need more.”

You give her what she asks for, the rhythm of your thrusts gradually becoming more intense. You relish the sounds of her pleasure, the soft gasps and moans spilling from her lips, and you can’t help but tease her with a light spank to her ass.

“Such a good girl,” you murmur, watching her cheeks flush as the sound reverberates through the room. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she cries, the mixture of your words and the sensation sending her spiralling further into pleasure. You can see her body tightening around you, and with each thrust, you push deeper, the strap-on stretching her just right.

As you continue to thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the air, mingling with her moans. You keep filming every moment, capturing the way her body moves with each thrust, the intensity of the connection between you.

Barbara's head falls forward, resting on her free arm as she surrenders to the sensations coursing through her. Her back arches, tilting her hips up in a way that makes you slip even deeper inside her. The sudden change in depth makes her loud moans catch in her throat, turning into silent gasps as the strap reaches places that send jolts of pleasure through her entire body.

Not wanting to let her escape the intensity, you reach forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head up, her soft strands wrapping around your fingers. "Uh-uh, don’t hide from me," you whisper, your voice rough with desire as you lift her enough to grab her free arm, pulling it behind her back. The position gives you leverage, letting you thrust even deeper, and the way she cries out makes your pulse race.

You hold the camera steady, capturing the way Barbara’s body reacts—her ass bouncing with every thrust, her skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. You zoom in, adoring the sight of her juices collecting at the base of the strap, slick and glistening. The camera catches the way her folds stretch around it, her body trembling with every deep, demanding thrust.

The moment you push in even harder, Barbara's voice breaks free, filling the room with even louder, more desperate moans that border on pornographic. The sound sends a thrill of excitement through you, your own breath coming in ragged gasps as you keep thrusting, keeping up the intense pace."That's it, baby," you pant, tightening your grip on her hair and pulling just a bit harder. The increased tension causes her to clench tighter around the strap, making each thrust require a bit more effort. "Let it out," you urge, your voice rough with desire and need. "I want to hear you."

Barbara's entire body trembles, her moans becoming higher-pitched, turning into needy whimpers as she chases the peak of her pleasure. The combination of being restrained, hair pulled, and filled so deeply pushes her to the edge in a way that’s overwhelming.

She releases a loud, primal cry as her orgasm crashes over her, her walls clenching tightly around the strap. The filthy sounds of your thrusts fill the air, each wet slap echoing the intensity of the moment. Her body trembles, and you can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the sheer ecstasy painting her flushed cheeks and neck a deeper shade. Her thighs shake uncontrollably, her body arching even more as waves of pleasure crash over her, the intensity drawing sobs from her throat. “Oh, God, yes—” she babbles, tears welling up as she completely loses herself to the sensations.

You keep filming, capturing every moment of her climax, the way her body spasms, her back arching beautifully, her juices dripping down her thighs. Your heart swells with a mixture of love and raw desire, knowing that you’re the one bringing her to this state of complete bliss.

After helping her ride out her orgasm, you pull out slowly, savouring the way Barbara’s trembling body shudders one last time at the withdrawal. The sight of leaving her warmth feels like an exhale, a gentle release of everything that’s built up. You flop down on the bed next to her, the camera momentarily forgotten in your hand, capturing nothing more than blurred glimpses of movement and crumpled sheets.

Barbara stays sprawled on her stomach, her breathing still heavy and unsteady. You gently tug at the silk ropes, releasing the knot that had kept one of her hands bound. As you free her, she lets out a sigh of relief, her body finally able to relax after the intensity of the experience. Her fingers clench and unclench against the sheets, a subtle reminder of the vulnerability she just embraced, her knuckles pale from the force of her grip. Her other hand, the one you had pulled behind her back, lays limp by her side, too exhausted to do anything but rest.

You turn onto your side, reaching out to her. Your fingers brush against her cheek, gently tracing the flushed skin there as you tenderly caress her face. Her eyes flutter open, still glazed with the aftershocks of pleasure, and you can see the quiet vulnerability that lingers.

“Hey,” you murmur, your thumb stroking softly over her cheekbone. “You did so, so well. You have no idea how proud I am of you.” The words come out softly, filled with nothing but adoration and reassurance. “I love you, Barbs. More than anything.”

She leans into your touch, a tired but genuine smile spreading across her lips. Her breaths come slower now, more even, as she clings to the tenderness in your voice. The intensity may have passed, but the connection between you both is undeniable, still electric in the air around you.

The three words hang in the air for a moment, and you can see the shift in Barbara's expression as she processes them, her eyes widening, a mixture of surprise and something deeper, more vulnerable. It's the first time you’ve said it—I love you. The words had slipped out easily, yet they carried the weight of everything you’d felt for so long but hadn’t voiced.

Before any doubt can creep in, you continue, your gaze locked on hers. “Not because of this,” you clarify softly, your fingers tracing a tender path along her jaw. “It’s not just the heat of the moment. I love you for you—for everything you are, what you mean to me.” The honesty in your voice seems to ground the confession, a reassurance that it’s about her as a person, not just the intensity of your shared desire.

Barbara's eyes glisten with emotion, and she takes a steadying breath before pushing herself up slightly, still trembling from the aftershocks. Her hand comes to your side, nudging you with a gentle insistence until you roll onto your back. The strap is still attached to your hips, standing tall and glistening with her arousal. The sight of it sends a new flush across her cheeks, but there’s a spark in her eyes as she meets your gaze.

Leaning down, she kisses you deeply, pouring all the affection and passion she can muster into the touch of her lips. It’s a kiss that feels like an answer, a silent acknowledgment of the words you spoke, and a promise of everything she wants to give back. As she pulls away, her lips curve into a small, almost mischievous smile. Slowly, she begins to trail kisses down your body, her breath warming your skin with every inch she covers.

When she reaches your hips, she hesitates just for a moment, then glances up at you with a glint of determination. “Let me clean up the mess I made,” she murmurs, her voice still a little shaky but filled with intent. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her gaze fixed on the strap before her. She looks back up at you, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

“Will you film it?” she asks, the boldness in her voice tempered by a hint of nervousness. “I want you to have something to look at, too.” Her eyes flicker with a need to please, a want to give you something special, something tangible to remember this moment by.

The way Barbara’s lips wrap around the strap has your breath catching in your throat. Her movements are tentative at first, her tongue tracing a careful path along the length of it, and the sight alone is enough to send a thrill coursing through you. Even though there’s no physical sensation, the visual—watching her willingly pleasure the toy, her eyes flicking up to yours as she goes—is intoxicating. It’s the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her mouth works the strap with a softness that’s almost reverent, that has your pulse racing.

You film her with trembling hands, capturing the way her tongue darts out to lick along the shaft, her spit adding a glistening sheen that catches the light. When she takes more of the toy into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing, the camera shakes slightly in your grasp. You can’t stop the quiet gasp that slips out, the sight of Barbara—so willing and intent on giving herself to this—making your skin prickle with warmth.

Barbara keeps her eyes locked on you, as if reading the effect she’s having. Her hands grip your thighs and stomach for support, and the soft sounds she makes—quiet moans and soft hums—add to the heady mix of sight and sound. Each time she bobs her head forward, taking the toy deeper, the camera shakes a little more. It’s hard to hold steady when your whole body is trembling, overwhelmed by the sight of her devotion.

Eventually, Barbara notices the way your phone wavers, the way your breath comes in shallow bursts. She pulls off with a quiet pop, her lips shining with her own saliva, and she gives you a soft, reassuring smile. Reaching out, she gently takes the phone from your hands. “Let me,” she whispers, her voice low and breathless.

She turns the camera on herself, focusing on the way the strap glistens with her spit and arousal. She runs her tongue along the length of the toy again, as if savouring the taste of what remains there. Her lips part to take it back into her mouth, and she films the way her cheeks hollow with each movement, her throat working to accommodate the toy as she takes it deeper. There’s a mix of concentration and quiet yearning on her face, a desire to show you just how much she’s willing to give, how much this moment means.

Barbara's hands tremble slightly as she adjusts the angle, capturing close-ups of the toy as it slides between her lips. She lingers on the way it glistens, her own spit and slick making it gleam. The camera captures the wet sounds of her mouth working the strap, the quiet hum of pleasure she lets out as she leans in closer, her tongue swirling around the base. It's soft, vulnerable, and undeniably intimate, a tender moment that speaks volumes about her trust and the depth of her feelings.

As she continues, you find yourself mesmerised by her every move, the way her tongue swirls and teases, the way she takes the toy deeper as if trying to reach some unspoken depth of devotion. Watching her is a pleasure in itself, a sensation that doesn’t come from physical touch but from the sheer beauty of seeing Barbara let herself go, giving herself over to this moment, to you.

As Barbara continues to work the strap with her mouth, she shifts the camera’s angle to focus on your face. Her eyes flicker with a quiet intensity, a need to capture this moment—the flush of your cheeks, the way your lips part with a gasp, the way your eyes flutter shut as the heat builds inside you. Even though she’s not physically touching you, the pure sight of her, the knowledge of what she’s doing for you, brings you closer to the edge.

Barbara slowly pulls off the strap, her lips leaving it with a soft pop, and she starts making her way up your body. She trails kisses along your skin, each one deliberate, leaving faint marks as she goes. Her tongue flicks out to soothe the love bites she leaves behind, a trail of tender hickeys that travels up your stomach, across your chest, and along your collarbone.

When she reaches your face, Barbara turns the camera on you one last time, capturing your expression as you come undone, a mix of bliss and vulnerability that she commits to memory with a soft click. She tosses the camera aside, not caring where it lands now, and leans in to kiss you deeply. “I love you too,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice tender and breathless.

Her words sink in, wrapping around your heart as she sighs into the kiss, letting her body melt against yours. The weight of her feels grounding, warm, like a blanket of comfort and devotion. You sink further into the moment, wrapping your arms around her, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing as her chest presses against yours. There’s a quiet understanding in the way she nuzzles into you, in the way she fits so perfectly against your side.

You reach down to pull the strap off, casting it aside without a second thought. It lands somewhere near the foot of the bed, to be dealt with in the morning. For now, the only thing that matters is the soft glow in Barbara's eyes, the quiet hum of her breath against your skin, and the feeling of love settling between the two of you—a love that was there long before this night, but one that has now been spoken aloud, shared in whispered words and quiet sighs.

As the warmth of the moment settles around you both, you feel Barbara’s breathing begin to slow, her body softening and relaxing into yours. She curls up closer, her head resting against your chest, one arm draped lazily across your waist. You can’t help but trace gentle patterns along her back, your fingers following the soft curve of her spine.

Barbara murmurs quietly in her sleep, her body nestling even closer. You draw the covers up over her shoulders, shielding her from the cool night air, and feel the weight of her leg tangle with yours. The calm of the room, the subtle glow of the moonlight casting faint shadows on the walls, creates a peaceful backdrop for the two of you.

With Barbara’s steady breaths against your skin and the warmth of her body pressing into yours, you find yourself drifting too, the sensation of your hand still lightly caressing her side.

It’s as if even in sleep, you can’t stop touching her—can’t help but hold her close, protectively, lovingly. Even in sleep, your touch is instinctive, a tender gesture of affection that doesn’t cease.

The way her body fits against yours feels like home, like a place you could stay in forever.

As sleep pulls you both under, your fingers continue their gentle caress along her skin, even in the deep calm of slumber. Barbara’s soft sigh escapes her lips, her body unconsciously leaning further into you, seeking your warmth. Together, you lie curled up, bodies entwined in a silent promise, as the night carries you into a shared dream.

#romugh's kt '24 #romugh slays #romugh writes #barbara sugarman reader #barbara sugarman x reader #barbara sugarman #don jon #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson reader #love scarlett in that movie #wlw smut #reader pov #reader insert #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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t4t4t · 1 month ago

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I'm still recovering from bottom surgery I got on July 25th in some ways but I'm healing up well in many ways. I got a MRSA infection that hasn't totally passed, might've been from the hospital, might've been from a roommate. Which was kinda an additional reason we wanted to move from smwr to smwr else that's cheaper anyway in a number of ways, utilities/location/etc.

Collie's bottom surgery is scheduled for November 13th, I hope that actually happens. She's wondering if she should recover at the new place but now it's so soon I'm not sure we can find anything else. She seems really suicidal and stressed about it. I'm worried.

We wanted to leave as soon as we could tbh so they're asking for the 5 days rent of the end of September but I only have to have that by the next time I pay rent. If we stay here. Idk. I kinda like the roommates but she thinks the house isn't soundproofed enough. But it's been less annoying than Brook's house in the past few days in my eyes.

I still haven't been able to pay the PO box and they're giving me until the 10th to pay the 100, and I can't pay month to month or anything cheaper apparently.

The place is also asking for a deposit of 500 but they're kinda only expecting that in a 2 to 3 month range, or like. Kinda on the basis of how my income changes / if I get a job / etc.

119 + 710 + 500 + 100 = 1429

I need 100 by the 10th of October and 829 by the 1st of November and 500 eventually. Idk. I hope I'm able to get a job before my FFS on January 28th. I wonder how long that will me put me out of work.

(I already was able to pay them 710 for October based on what had been donated.)

Anything helps.

Help two disabled trans women not be homeless like they have 80% of the time been waiting for surgery for 4 years and finally get the surgeries they've been waiting to get for 4 years. <3

https://www.paypal.me/NoraEstherRose

https://venmo.com/u/nora-esther-rose

https://www.paypal.me/androgynophore

https://venmo.com/u/Leah-Esther-Rose

#i was able to give them 710 already to move in if that wasnt clear

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pastorpresent · 13 days ago

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Wade LOVES Halloween. Absolutely LOVES it, but his first Halloween with Logan, he decides not to go too overboard. After all, the apartment is Logan's safe space, and he knows he gets easily overwhelmed and filling it with a bunch of loud things that jump out doesn't feel the best option for his PTSD.

He puts up a few decorations, and leaves it at that.

Logan doesn't realise how much the holiday means to Wade until one of his lunch meet ups with Vanessa. She makes a comment about how odd it is that Wade isn't hosting his usual Halloween party this year, and Logan frowns.

"I didn't think he was that into Halloween."

Vanessa snorts, "you kidding me? Our apartment used to look like party city in October."

Logan is confused, until he remembers the way Wade had subtly asked everytime he put up a small Halloween decoration, asking Logan's opinion on the placement, and it clicks in his head that Wade probably thinks he wouldn't like the apartment filled with Halloween stuff.

And yeah, it's not really his favourite holiday, but it seems to be Wade's and he'll be damned if the merc doesn't celebrate it on his accord.

He goes all out. He's not all that familiar with Halloween traditions, so he consults Laura for help. She explains what a 'boo basket' is, and he just sort of stares at her, "why would Wade want a plastic bucket filled with halloween versions of crap he's already got?"

"You're such a man," is her groaned reply, and Logan just adds it to his list of stuff to do.

By the time Halloween rolls around, he's honestly a bit nervous. He spends all day decorating the apartment while Wade is out. He learns from Ness that Wade hates actual pumpkin carving because he can't stand the smell or the feel of the pumpkin guts, so he sets their pumpkins on the coffee table, covered over with a spooky table cloth, with a variety of paints to decorate.

Every inch of the apartment is covered in the tackiest Halloween decor possible. Laura helped him make Halloween cupcakes. Wade's bat basket is sat on the kitchen table, filled up with his favourite candy, a ghost blanket and a little pumpkin stuffed toy. He loads up Hocus Pocus on the TV, since Ness told him it was one of Wade's favourites.

The couples costume is the one thing he insisted on figuring out himself. He'd honestly spent an embarrassingly long amount of time working something out, and he's a little nervous Wade will hate it.

"Honey I'm-"

Logan squirms in the following silence, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. He really wanted to get this right, and he really hopes he hasn't missed anything important and that Wade doesn't think the whole thing is just stupid because he really did try here.

"Are you... Finn?"

"Yeah. I got you uh, princess bubblegum, and..." he whistles for Mary, who waited ever so patiently behind the couch, and she comes scampering out in her Jake costume.

Wade is still just staring, and Logan shuffles awkwardly, "Laura's gonna be Marceline. if you don't want to dress up that's fine. Or if you don't like all this... I can take it down? I wasn't sure what-"

And then he's got an armful of Wade, who's fully wrapped around him, and Logan just barely catches him.

"You like it?" Logan asks, because even if the reaction is pretty telling he needs to know for sure.

"Like it? Like it?! Peanut I fucking love it! I fucking love you," Wade emphasises, tightening his grip, and Logan feels his body relax finally.

"You'll have to thank Laura and Ness. I wouldn't of had a clue what to do otherwise-"

Wade shuts him up with a kiss.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Honestly, you're the best," Wade smiles, a decent that nickname always makes Logan's knees feel a little weak.

"Anything for you, bub. You not realised that by now?"

And it's not a joke, not really, and he can tell Wade knows that by the way his smile softens.

They go to Vanessa's Halloween party that night, and Logan's convinced she crowns them winners of the costume contest out of pity for all of Logan's effort the last few days, but it doesn't matter anyway because of the way the matching 'best dressed' sashes make Wade somehow light up even more for the rest of the night.

#bit late but i was doing a halloween party yesterday and was exhausted by the end of the day #deadclaws #poolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws fic #drabble #peanutbub #mywriting #halloween

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getosbigballsack · 8 months ago

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#: Reader-Chan begging for Yakuza Gojo’s cock.

This drabble took place before the initial proposal drabble that was posted on October 21, 2023.

So desperate to feel his cock inside your cunt, you had your legs spread over his lap inside the back of his chauffeur. That dress he bought you rolled up and around your waist, white pretty panties pulled to the side exposing your glistening cunt to him.

He smiled and licked his lips, his thumb tracing the outline of your pussy before pushing his thumb inside your warm cunt. "You want my cock pretty baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, give it to me, please! I need you to give it to me, please," you begged.

"No!"

"Why?"

"I told you before, haven't I? I'll touch, I'll finger you, I'll even eat your pussy and let you play with my cock, but I won't fuck you until you agree to become my wife."

You cried so much that night, having to just settle with just his fingers inside your cunt, ruining you over and over until you had nothing left to give. And oh boy, did he take much pleasure in watching you cry and beg for his cock like the desperately cute and chubby little slut you are. God, Yakuza Gojo just can't wait to ruin you even more when you finally agree to take his hand in marriage.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

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raekensluver · 17 days ago

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ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟺 — ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

october 27th | fred weasley x fem!reader

contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, fingering, begging, multiple orgasms, fred's a little out of character, porn without plot.

word count: 1.1k

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

"fred, please," you gasped, your voice breathless and whiny. "i need you."

fred's eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you, your body trembling beneath his touch. his hand trailed down your side, leaving a fiery path in its wake. "what do you need, love?" he murmured, his voice low and gruff.

you couldn't form coherent words, only whimpers and pleas. i need you to… make me cum," you finally managed, your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment and want.

fred's grin grew wolfish as he took in the sight of you. "you're so eager," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he leaned down to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you gasp. "what's got you so worked up?"

you arched into his touch, your nails digging into his back. "you," you moaned, your voice thick with need. "always you."

fred chuckled against your skin, his breath warm and tickling. he traced his lips along your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses that made your heart race even faster. "you know i'll give you what you want," he whispered, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. his thumb flicked over your nipple, making you moan and squirm.

his other hand traveled down between your thighs, his fingers finding their way to your soaking wet entrance. he teased the sensitive skin around it, watching the way your eyes rolled back with every touch. "so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "you really do want it, don't you?"

you nodded frantically, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. "yes," you whined, your voice barely above a whisper. "please, fred."

his fingers slid inside of you with ease, and you felt your muscles clench around them as if trying to hold on. your nails scraped down his back, leaving red marks as you bit your bottom lip to keep from screaming. "that's it," he encouraged, his own breathing growing heavier. "let me hear how much you want me."

you couldn't help the whines that escaped your throat, each one sounding more pitchy than the last. your hips rolled in time with his strokes, and you could feel your climax building, like a storm waiting to break. your eyes remained locked on his, the brown of his irises seemingly burning into yours as he watched your reactions with hungry intensity.

"more," you begged, your voice hoarse and needy. fred's grin grew wider as he added another finger, curling them inside you in a way that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you felt yourself tighten around him, and he responded by pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm that had you on the edge.

his thumb found your clit and began to rub slow circles, his touch feather-light yet so intense it was almost painful. your hips bucked upwards, trying to get more friction, more everything. "right there," you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. fred's chuckle was the only response, his movements never faltering, his fingers never leaving your most sensitive spots.

suddenly, you felt the pressure building, your orgasm rising like a tidal wave. "i'm gonna…" you moaned, your voice trailing off as you tried to hold onto the sensation. fred's grip on your hip tightened, his other hand squeezing your breast as he whispered, "let go, love. i've got you."

with a keening cry, you did. your body shuddered and arched off the bed, your muscles spasming around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. fred didn't stop, his movements relentless, pushing you further into the abyss of pleasure until you were a trembling, boneless mess beneath him.

"please," you gasped, your voice a needy whine. "please, fred, i can't…" but you could, and you did. again and again, your orgasms rolling into one endless crescendo of ecstasy. his name was a chant on your lips, a prayer to the gods of desire that he never stop.

his fingers were relentless, driving into you, curling and stroking until you thought you would lose your mind. your nails dug into his shoulders, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, trying to hold on to him as if he were a lifeline in a storm. your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the room spin, and all that existed was the heat of his body, the pressure of his touch.

"more," you begged, your voice barely audible, your throat raw from the constant stream of pleas. "please, fred, more." your desperation was palpable, a living entity in the room that seemed to feed off the tension coiled within you.

without a word, fred's fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. his thumb pressed harder on your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had your entire body tightening like a coil ready to spring. "yes," you hissed, your eyes flying open to meet his, the pupils blown wide with pleasure. "right there," you whispered, your voice a pleading mantra.

his free hand slid up your body to cradle your face, his thumb brushing the wetness from your cheek. "you're so beautiful when you cum," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "so fucking beautiful." his words were a gentle caress against the chaos of sensations overwhelming you.

you couldn't help but whimper at the praise, your chest heaving with the effort of breathing. your eyes searched his, looking for a sign that he was as lost in this as you were. his gaze was dark and intense, his pupils blown wide with need. "please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the screams you hadn't realized you'd been letting out.

fred leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers inside you. you moaned into his mouth, your tongue dancing with his as you felt yourself building towards another peak. your hips rocked up to meet his hand, desperation fueling your movements.

his thumb moved faster on your clit, the pressure increasing until you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion once more. you clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "i'm close," you murmured against his lips, your voice barely recognizable.

his response was to plunge his fingers deeper, his thumb never ceasing its merciless onslaught. your muscles tightened around him, your body coiling tighter and tighter until suddenly, you shattered. your back bowed off the bed and your legs spasmed as you broke apart from him. the orgasm was a white-hot burst of pleasure that seemed to go on forever, consuming every inch of you, leaving you boneless and trembling.

when the waves of pleasure finally subsided, you lay there, panting and weak, your eyes half-closed and your body slack. fred's hand was still between your legs, his fingers gently stroking your sensitive flesh, his thumb resting lightly on your clit, sending little aftershocks of pleasure through you. he kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours, his breath mingling with your own.

kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess @dale-kobbles-wife @mattheoriddles-slutt @aduh0308

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x you #james phelps #james phelps smut #mara's kinktober '24

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sweetheart-satoru · 1 year ago

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his eyes, breathtaking

you tried to ignore him and your feelings, but they were stubborn.

author's note: me cuz i promised part two in october and now it's here 🙈🙈 don't hate me at least it's here 💋 i love you silly billies 🫶🏽

part one here !!

"you two in a fight or somethin'?" shoko says, leaning back in her chair. satoru places his cheek in his palm, "dunno, she's definitely mad at me, though." suguru tilts his head, "how come?"

"i dont know, can you ask her about it?" shoko shrugs, "i'll ask her at break." satoru nods, "thanks." you and satoru sit behind shoko and suguru. two seats in each spot.

when you walk into class you just stare out the window until shoko makes small talk with you, hoping the awkwardness would pass. “y/n, your bracelet is pretty.”

“thank you!” you grin at her, mood changing instantly. “yeahh,” satoru agrees, and he frowns as he watches your grin turn neutral, “i like it too, by the way.” he coughs. “mhm.. thanks, gojo.” you went back to the last name basis, and his heart drops.

shoko gives him a look, pointing at his phone, telling him to text her. and he does, along does suguru.

shoko: shes def mad

satoru: thanks a lot, i didn’t notice 😐!!

suguru: why is she mad tho?? what did you do??

satoru: why are you guys blaming me?! i don’t know either.

you cough, “hey- uh, shoko.. i’m gonna go to the washroom, ‘kay? if the bell rings before im back i’ll meet you by the gates.” you tell her before walking out. “mhm, okay!” she calls out. and when you shut the door she immediately turns to satoru and suguru.

“suguru, did you hear that? earlier, she called satoru by his last name. something is totally wrong.” and suguru nods, agreeing. “well, satoru. you should go follow her. this is your chance. the bell will ring soon so it doesn’t matter how much time you take, go!”

satoru nods, “mhm, okay!” and then he rushes out of class, going to see if he can finally talk to you.

you splash cold water on your face. mumbling to yourself, "get your shit together, y/n." you weren't going to lie, on a hot day like this, the cold water felt nice. patting your cheeks, you stare into the mirror, feeling a little bit less disgusted with yourself.

"oh, hey! i don't look too ugly today!" you give yourself a half grin, taking out a tube of lipgloss and lip tint from your pocket. "i'll just fix this up.." you say to yourself quietly.

when you're done you fix your hair, "not too bad, y/n." you smile to yourself, quietly feeling good. you were right to tell shoko to leave class and not wait, you were taking too much time and the bell did ring.

you check your phone and see that she texted you.

shoko: me and suguru are headed to the convenience store, satoru also went to the washroom so you two can meet up with us together

you visibly frown, oh shit. okay, y/n. just play it cool. if you hurry up maybe you can rush to them and you won't need to see him. yeah, if you hurry up you can make it without it. or you can wait it out and hope he leaves without you.

feeling your stomach growl, you screw idea #2 and just speed walk out of the washroom, making a quick turn before in the corner of your eye you see satoru leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. he was looking down at his phone, but now that your in his eye line, he raises his brows.

"wow, you sure take your time. im telling shoko she can't blame me for being late as this time it was your fault." he walks up to you and boops your nose.

you push his hand away, scrunching your nose. "mhm," you nod, cursing yourself for being too late, "lets uh, just go." he shakes his head, "nope."

narrowing your eyes, "huh? nope?" he grabs your wrist, "yeah, nope." he repeats, bringing you closer to him, and he frowns when you pull back. "lets talk."

"talk? talk about what? can we just go? im hungry." you complain, trying to pull your arm out. before (pt 1), when he grabbed your wrist he only held it lightly, now he was gripping it like if he let go, you would disappear.

"you're," you grunt, "hurting me." quietly, he mumbles a quick apology, but never fully lets go, just loosening his hold. "are you mad at me? and be serious, i don't want any half assed answer. tell me what you're feeling." he frowns.

"im.. im not mad at you." you look down to your shoes, and it's true. you weren't mad at him. you were mad at how he made you feel. you hate having feelings, especially with someone you're close with. it always comes back to bite you back in the ass. "then what is it?"

you stay silent. "y/n i know it has to be something to do with me, every time you speak to someone else you're back to being yourself, but when it's me it's like you hate me." your eyes widen, "i don't hate you." you blurt, and he gives you a sad smile. "then what is it? did i make you sad?"

"yes, but no, but like yes maybe kinda no. yes as in yes it has something to do with you, but no nothing you did intentionally." he raises his brow at that, "then what did i 'yes but no like yes maybe kinda no' do to you to make you stop talking to me for seven days?" you watch the hurt and sadness swirl in his eyes, his beautiful, breathtaking eyes.

"it's.. complicated! i don't know how to explain, it's just complicated!" you crouch down, into a frog like position. and he mimics your frog pose, bringing his face closer to yours, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"it's just, all in my head! i don't.. know.." you mutter, trailing off. "what're you thinking in here," he mumbles, "what are you thinking in your pretty little head." he taps two fingers on your forehead, and all you can think about his making out with him until your lips are too kiss-swollen to be touched.

"..stuff." you whisper, burying your face inside your hands, trying to hide your face that's on the verge of exploding with embarrassment. "oh, i get it." his lips curve into a smirk. all sadness gone.

he chuckles, and his chuckles turn into loud laughter. and his loud laughing turns into full on cackling until he really, truly cannot breathe.

"what are you laughing at..." you feel your heart pounding. it feels like its about to burst and fall right in between you two. he's still laughing, trying to cover his mouth to try and stop it. he's laughing so hard you see tears fall out of his eyes. "i can't fucking breathe!" he gasps for air, still laughing.

"oh my god, you're in love with me!" your heart drops to your stomach, and he's still laughing. his eyes are squeezed shut, he's gripping onto his pants like his life depends on it because he seriously cannot breathe.

all this time, for seven days you've ignored talking to him and texting him back, not because you were mad at him but because you had fucking feelings for him! oh god, he should've put the pieces together!

every time you would smile to yourself if your fingers brushed together, how you would look sad when someone who go up to him and confess, how you would smile down at him with a certain time of warmth when he would tie your shoelaces for you, how you would hug him longer than nessasary when he would pay for you food

"god! it's impossible to talk to you!" you hiss, getting up to leave to god knows where. just as you're about to turn your heel, going to walk away, he grabs your wrist.

"satoru, let go, just leave me alo-" he cuts you off by placing his hands on your cheeks, and then you feel his soft lips on yours. your eyes widen as you feel him bringing you closer to him. squeezing your eyes shut, you try and keep up with his skilled lips. he just took your first kiss and you don't know what you're doing!

he breaks the kiss off and grins down at you. "was that your first kiss?" you just turn your head away, trying to hide your flustered face. "you suck." he snickers, teasing you.

you frown, "shut up! you just caught me off guard, that's all! and if you must know i have kissed many people!" you were straight up lying through your teeth and he smirks, knowing.

"prove it. kiss me again. show me you're experienced." he leans against the wall, eyeing you like a hawk. "no. let's go to shoko and suguru, im hungry!" it wasn't like you were lying now, it's true. you were starved. "no?" he questions, cocking his head to the side. "no." you repeat, "now lets go." you try and drag his arm. he just chuckles and follows you.

he intertwines your fingers together, holding you close to him. he watches you from the corner of his eyes as you randomly look at both of your hands, and then turn away smiling. he also turns his head away to smile. a faint blush rested on his cheeks before he stops you both.

he lets go of your hand before using it to turn your head to him to place a small kiss on your lips again. when you pull back, "you still suck." he leans in to kiss you again but you just shove him. "ugh shut up!"

you speed walk ahead of him, "you're the one who sucks!" he just laughs, "don't leave me behinddddd!!" to which the response he got back was getting flipped off.

as you keep walking ahead, even though he could easily catch up with his lanky long legs, he just runs and jumps on your back, yelling out, "piggy back ride!"

you stumble forwards, holding onto his legs making sure he doesn't fall over, "you idiot, we could've fallen!" you laugh, and he just wraps his arms around you, careful as not to choke you, and kisses your head, "but you love me so even if we fell you'll forgive me."

"yeah, yeah, whatever." you grumble, adjusting him on your back. and he grins, snuggling his face into your neck, loving the sweet smell of (whatever you smell like that's good) and shutting his eyes.

"i love you too." and he can basically feel the grin stretched onto your face.

i accidentally deleted most of the work so now it's not even good :( it literally looks like i shat in my hand, gave it to you and called it writing.. the first version was so much better 🤐

anyways tags for the lovelies that have been waiting months of this <3 @ari-hatake15 @chuuberrysworld @solialuna @kazuahhh @voidsatoru <3 @loquia @mykyoon @i-be-teff @arminsgfloll @4evahevah @the-devilskid @ys2800 sorry if i didn't tag you some of them aren't showing up :(

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verycoolusername1 · 14 hours ago

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Maybe It Was Fate

Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.

Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader

A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!

AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER

It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.

It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.

You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.

He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.

You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?

The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.

You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.

You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?

"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.

"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.

He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."

"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.

"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.

"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.

"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"

"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.

"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.

"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.

You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.

"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.

"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."

"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.

"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.

You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.

"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.

"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.

Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."

You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.

"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.

"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.

"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.

You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.

All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.

"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.

"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.

"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."

"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.

"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.

"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.

Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.

Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.

"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.

"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.

"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.

"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.

"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."

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vonlycsnn · 1 month ago

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✖ — EARLY-HALLOWEEN SPECIALTY — ✖

　　　　　　VON LYCAON x GN READER

- SYNOPSIS: you go on some decoration hunting with Lycaon in preparations for Halloween, that's when something caught your attention.

- CW/TW: none.

- A/N: oh my god oh my god oh my god HELLO HI HI HEY ITS ME. THE GUY WHO WROTE A LOT OF LYCAON X READER FICS BACK IN JULY AND EARLY AUGUST!!! IM SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE MASSIVE INACTIVITY... (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) September has been hectic for me and writer's block hit me like a god damn truck so I haven't been able to fully indulge myself into writing. I've missed you all so much waaaa...hopefully i can write more stuff for you lovely ppl!

Your eyes lingered towards the clothing store next to you, staring at the Halloween costumes displayed in the front.

As you became lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice snapped you back to reality. Your body shook up in surprise, but you immediately calmed down when you turned around to see him.

Your one and only love.

You had nearly forgotten that he was fetching something of his own importance and that he requested you to wait outside for a bit.

His gaze followed yours, taking a quick look at the displayed costumes and looking back at you.

"My apologies, master. It seems that I've kept you waiting." He said. You shook your head in response.

"It's fine, Lycaon; you didn't take that long."

You reassured him. Before you could say anything else, your eyes lingered towards the displayed costumes again. Lycaon took notice of this.

"Something in your mind, master?" Lycaon asked.

You snap back to reality once more and shake your head, assuring your thiren butler that everything's okay.

As the two of you were walking towards the parking lot of Lumina Mall, you couldn't help but wonder. A thought that stayed with you ever since October rolled in. You suddenly stopped, standing there as you continued to be deep in your own thoughts. Of course Lycaon became confused and worried by your actions.

He approached you, carefully grabbing your face and pulling your gaze over to him.

"Master, if you need anything else, there's no need to hesitate. Just tell it to me; I've reminded you of this many times already." Lycaon said.

"Im okay! I just...thought about something." You looked away in embarrassment.

"There's no need to hide, master. I will not shame you for what you have in mind."

You hesitate, inhaling and exhaling until you finally build the courage to speak up. You could tell that Lycaon is very focused on you; oh, what a gentleman he is.

"Ive been wondering, Lycaon. What...do you usually dress as during Halloween?"

You finally asked. While you can't see it because of his restraints, you can tell he raised his brows in confusion.

You suddenly felt embarrassed from asking such a question, and the air became heavier for you. It doesn't help the fact that Lycaon was just standing there...menacingly.

But just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Lycaon laughed softly. You looked back at him to see his cheeky little smile.

"Now what brought up that question, love?"

Lycaon takes a few steps towards you as you try and answer his question.

You hesitated again, completely scrambled by your own thoughts. Is it really okay to tell him this? Yes. No. Absolutely. Not at all.

Lycaon slightly titled his head as he waited patiently for your answer, his eyes straightening in case he doesn't hear you well enough.

"I just..." Breathe. Just breathe.

"Saw a big bad wolf costume earlier, from the fairytales, y'know? And I thought it'd..."

You looked back at him. Weirdly enough, he reminded you of those cute dog pictures where they tilt their heads in the same manner.

"It'd look good on you...maybe?" You awkwardly laughed to yourself.

Silence followed, and oh, did you feel like you wanted to throw yourself into a companion hollow and get ether corrupted—You hated every second of it.

Lycaon merely chuckled, walked up to you, and guided your gaze onto him.

"Well, would you like to go back and see how it looks on me then?" Lycaon suggested.

"Huh?"

"I'm no fan of having to act as a villainous character when it comes to these. However, I do find myself...enjoying dressing up as that antagonist in particular for some odd reason."

You weren't showing it, but you suddenly felt all giddy when you heard those words come out of his mouth. You gently took his hand and pulled him back towards the mall entrance.

"What are we waiting for then? I want to see how good it looks on ya!"

#n-writes #zenless zone zero #zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #von lycaon #zzz lycaon #von lycaon x reader #zenless zone zero lycaon #lycaon x reader

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

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Soft

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Your first morning with Yoongi reminds you of just how soft he is.

Warnings: Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: This is nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, I don't even know where I was going with this, but it is what it is. And yes, I'm daydreaming about foggy October mornings in the middle of July, it's my escapism, leave me alone.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was one of those quiet, early mornings when everything was still except for the occasional faded leaf drifting lazily past as you stared out the kitchen window, waiting for coffee to brew.

You didn't realize you weren't alone anymore until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your middle, making you smile instantly as Yoongi pressed his face into your shoulder.

"Morning." He said, voice gravely from sleep.

"Morning, you're warm." You hummed contentedly.

"You're cold." He said as his hands found yours, fingers already chilled by the morning air.

"Come back to bed." He breathed against your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss to your skin as he spoke, lips lingering longer than usual.

"I didn't realize you were so needy in the mornings." You mused.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Nope, I could stay right here quite happily all day." You said, leaning back against him to further your point, making him chuckle.

"That can be arranged." He hummed, digging his fingers into your sides a bit to make you squirm.

It was moments like this with him when you couldn't fathom how some people had the view that Yoongi was a cold or indifferent person, when in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

When you had first started dating, there had definitely been a level of shyness that almost bordered on standoffish, but you had quickly come to understand that it came from a place caution due to his past, but you'd been more than willing to work through it and wait patiently as he let down those walls one by one.

You remember the first time he invited you to his studio, watching him work, mouth drawn into a pout of concentration as his finger flew across the keyboard.

"You're staring." He said, shooting a side-long glance at you.

"So?" You asked. "You're pretty."

He didn't respond, choosing to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him, but you didn't miss the faint dusting of pink that crept across his face, making you grow more confident, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek, making him splutter out a surprised laugh.

"What was that for?" He asked, flustered.

"Nothing, I just wanted to." You shrugged, turning back to your phone leaving him staring at you, bemused.

Little moments had built up over the course of a few weeks, fleeting touches and pecks here and there, with his moves always seeming to be slightly wary, as if you'd run away if he wasn't careful, though you had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere.

The breaking point had finally come last night as you'd sat together as he voiced his frustrations about a current project he was struggling to finish.

"What do you usually do when you can't write?" He'd asked you.

"Drink." You chuckled, gesturing to the glass in your hand, making him snort. "Think about you."

"Noo!" His face scrunched up, making you laugh.

When you quieted though, you noticed his eyes lingering on you. You don't know what it was exactly that you said or did, but as he stared at you, you could see the final wall crumble as he suddenly leaned in to claim your lips.

At first, it was so soft and sweet, you could've cried from the way he held you, like you were made of glass, but when you deepened it, winding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, you'd felt a tiny shiver ripple through him as he sucked in a shaky breath before caving entirely, pushing you back against the cushions as he chased after your lips.

"What?" You asked, looking up at him confusion.

Now, as you finally convinced him to venture out for a very late breakfast, you could see the subtle differences in his movements with and around you.

As the two of you walked along, he suddenly grabbed for your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

He just shook his head before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was still more than enough to leave you dazed by the time he pulled away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Just wanted to." He said with a smirk before continuing down the road, still holding your hand, you biting back a grin as you trailed after him.

#yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts fluff #bts drabble #7ndipity

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worldsover · 1 year ago

Note

Will we ever get a sequel for Heejin's birthday fic? Just asking btw

Sorry. I am allergic to completing tasks to 100%. For example, as I mentioned in its author notes, there was never even meant to be a sequel since this was supposed to be one story, but instead I posted the incomplete version because the alternative was no story for her birthday. That being said, I do at least have a bit more written, so the same thing applies here: it's unfinished, but at least it's something?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Heejin Birthday Fic cont.

~2.5k words, incomplete draft of the continuation to Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin

This wasn't fun. Well, it's a little fun. All the games the two of you play.

The best/worst part are all the videos she sends. She starts with the typical: eating an ice cream cone, having cream drip on her fingers; covering herself with oil and rubbing it over her entire body; holding a vibrator to her clit, waiting for your text about what position you want her in; showing her sopping pussy from various angles, and you can tell exactly which angle she sent you and why.

And then her videos get dirtier. There's Heejin on a vertical video, sitting on her bed, dildo deep inside her pussy, just talking. She talks about how she imagines your cock sliding in and out of her pussy, ramming her g-spot and fucking her senseless, while your fingers rub her clit and your mouth suck her tits. You would fill her up with your cum, dripping out of her pussy, down her legs. Then she would get the taste of your cock as she cleans it with her mouth, and how the cum mixing with her juices would taste even better as she slurps it all up. Heejin has a gift for describing things with vivid detail. You never realized just how eloquent her tongue could be. You can't wait until it's on yours again.

There are the times you meet and end up making out and nearly fucking, but you manage to stop. You keep each other on the brink. Sometimes you want to rip each other's clothes off and ravage the other right then and there, and your hearts would race at the thought of all the consequences and dangers involved with doing it outside. But you had to be patient; you were the one who suggested waiting, after all.

But the weeks pass, and you grow restless. You can't wait to claim Heejin as yours, in the most intimate way possible.

And finally, October 19 arrives.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The restaurant is a small, cozy establishment, with warm lighting and ambient music. You and Heejin are dressed in semi-formal attire, and you admire how beautiful she looks in her black dress, with a slit up the thigh that shows off her perfect legs. You're both a little giddy with anticipation. You feel like it's Christmas, ready to open the ultimate present, even if she's the birthday girl here.

As you sit at the table, Heejin's phone lights up with birthday messages from her friends, and you can't help but wonder what they would think if they knew about you two.

"Wow, you're popular."

She giggles. "I know, it's silly. But, it's kinda sweet."

You take a sip of water. "You know, Heejin, it's been fun, these last couple of weeks, edging. I've never gone this long."

Heejin scoffs. "You're one to talk. It's been hell for me."

"I believe you."

You start to eat your food. The flavors are rich and savory, and the portions are generous. The two of you chat about the usual stuff, like work and your family and the newest set of anime coming out, but no matter how you try, you can't resist being glued to her every touch. Her finger absentmindedly twirls around a strand of hair. Her thighs shift in her seat. A napkin wipes the side of her mouth. The candlelight, and the warmth of the establishment makes her glow, and you're hopelessly under her spell.

Of course, her heel brushing against your inner thigh doesn't help.

"You seem tense," she says.

"Great observation."

"You know, for some reason, I don't feel that full, even after all I ate."

"You wanna go to another restaurant or something?"

Heejin rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm hungry for."

Your mouth rounds to a circle.

She rubs her heel on your pants. "What?"

You throw the napkin on the table and stand up. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."

Heejin bites her lip as you walk away. You enter the bathroom. It's its own individual room, fancy and well-kept. You walk up to the sink and splash cold water on your face, sighing.

You use the toilet. Then, you use your phone to find the nearest hotel and its nearest vacancy. Can't even wait to bring her home. You text her your plan for the night.

Seems even that is too much waiting. A knock. She texts you back.

> open the door.

You gulp. You do, and Heejin steps in, her breathing erratic, her smile mischievous. She pulls you by your tie for a kiss, shoving you against the door. Your tongue and hers are tangling, and you reach for her breast. Your knee is lifting her skirt, and she's grinding against it.

"Heejin," you say, "we gotta, we gotta go somewhere else."

"I can kneel here." And she does just that. "We can make this quick."

She unbuckles your pants and frees your cock, your limp-cock instantly hard in the warmth of her mouth, instantly in the back of her throat.

"Heejin, no, wait, we were saving..."

Pop. "Oh, what, like you don't wanna blow your load down my throat and cum all over my tits and face?"

She's pumping, her fingers slick and tight around your shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her face. She sucks on your balls.

"I bet you'd absolutely ruin this fucking dress with your load."

In the next five minutes, Heejin proceeds to slather your cock in her spit while sucking you down with best blowjob you've ever received. Her lips and tongue are tight, and the heat of her mouth and the vacuum of her suction feels so divine around your cock. And her moans, oh, fuck, how you missed her moans around your shaft. The vibrations tickle your skin and your nerves. You're thankful for the door and the weight of your body preventing the two of you from collapsing, because the pleasure is making your knees weak. And if that wasn't enough, Heejin is relentless in her dirty talk and her sucking.

"God, your cock is fucking amazing. I wanna drink your cum forever. I wish you could shoot your cum deep in my pussy, fill me up. I can't wait to get your cock in my cunt."

She bobs faster, deeper, sucking more intensely. You're about to burst. She knows. Heejin reaches between your legs and squeezes your balls.

Then, she pulls back. Pop. "So, where's the hotel?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You pay for your meals, and then you're on the way to the hotel. It's a short taxi ride away, and the two of you keep your hands to yourself.

Once you're in the elevator, you hold Heejin's waist, and she faces you, giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," she says. "Just… happy."

You lean down to kiss her. "Have I told you enough that you're the prettiest girl on the planet?"

"A couple times." She kisses back. "I don't mind you telling me more."

You brush strands of hair away from her face. She puts her hands on your face. Your hand slides up her waist to cup her cheek. She runs her thumb across your bottom lip.

Ding. The elevator doors open, and you step into the hallway. Your room is a few steps down, and you unlock the door.

It's a basic suite, and you don't waste time, dropping your stuff, locking the door, and moving to the bed, pushing Heejin down and kneeling to her height.

She giggles. "Gotta catch up, huh?"

You slide her shoes off her feet, then your own. Then, you slip your hands under her dress and hook a finger on her panties, moving them down her legs. All the while, she takes off your suit jacket and undoes your belt. You move Heejin's panties completely off her ankles. They're soaked. She lies down on the bed.

Your cock is throbbing, but you can't stop staring at the view.

She blushes. "N-no, no more edging. Please. I need to cum, so, so fucking bad. I need you in me, right fucking now."

You swallow. "Don't worry. I'll be inside you soon enough. Just, lemme get a good look of your body first."

Heejin smiles. "My body, huh? What, what's so special about it?"

"Everything."

You're on top of Heejin now, caressing her face.

"Everything," you repeat. You lower your head. "Especially your eyes." You lower your head again. "And your lips." You kiss them. "And your neck." You kiss. She moans. You continue kissing downwards, licking along her collarbone, nibbling on the side of her throat, biting her shoulder. Then you lick the valley between her breasts, pull down the neckline of her dress, and lick circles on her nipples. You hike up the hem of dres to reach a hand to her pussy. "And, this." You rub her lips.

She moans. "What… about that?"

You crawl lower, your face between her legs. You spread her lips, already wet, and you stick your tongue inside her hole. "The prettiest pussy I've ever seen." You lick up her slit.

Heejin grabs your hair and pulls you. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait anymore. Fuck me."

You wipe your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."

"Just… put it in me already."

You get on your knees and rub your cockhead against Heejin's lips, smearing pre-cum. You rub it around her clit, and she shudders, whimpering.

Heejin pushes on your chest. "Wait, hold on, sit up. I wanna watch. Please. Your cock… entering me. I can't wait to see it."

You nod. Heejin sits up too. You grab Heejin's thighs and spread them. Your cockhead rubs against Heejin's entrance again.

"Holy shit, holy shit," she says.

You lick your lips. You push your cock into Heejin's hole, and your head is swimming in her heat, her wetness. Her pussy is already sucking you in, and Heejin is already moaning, and her whole body is already trembling.

"Shit, Heejin, you're already going to cum?"

She nods. "Yes! I'm sorry, it's just, you're finally, finally inside me. I've dreamed about this, so many times, and now it's happening."

"Me too. It's fine, it's fine." You pull back, and then you thrust again, a bit deeper, and Heejin shudders again. "Holy shit."

You pump slowly, Heejin moaning louder and louder, her pussy squeezing you tighter and tighter. Your grip on her thighs is tight, and you push her down, burying your cock deeper. Her back arches, and you start thrusting faster. You grunt. Heejin's pussy is milking your cock, sucking you deeper, and you're pounding her cunt, her moans and your grunts filling the room, until she lets out a scream, a high-pitched, satisfied noise, and her walls are convulsing. And just as you said, you empty your load deep inside her, rope after rope, a thick batch of semen pooling in her hole and leaking past your shaft.

"Holy… shit," she says. Heejin's trying to catch her breath. She looks up at you, a slight smirk on her face. "You're still hard, right?"

You look down. You're still hard.

Even though her legs writhe and her toes curl, she fucks herself into your shaft, covering it in more and more cream.

"Fucking, hell, Heejin, just like that?" You clench your jaw.

"Yeah. Yeah, we just started. I love watching you pump your cock in and out of my pussy, seeing it get all sloppy."

You chuckle. "Slut."

"For you." She wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your back. "Wreck me."

You can do nothing but comply. Heejin's eyes roll back, her lips tremble, and her nails dig into your back, and you fuck her, you fuck Heejin, hard. Using your own creampie as lube, your cock plunges and slams inside Heejin's pussy, over and over. You pick her up from the bed and pound into her as you carry her around the room, making loud wet slaps fill the air. Then, you set her down on the desk, gripping her shoulders, and the room shakes with your thrusts.

Heejin screams and babbles. You're about to cum again already, and so is she. You love her expression, like she's completely drunk to your cock as she loses herself to the pleasure of it stuffing her, pushing your first creampie out just to fill her up again. You're sure she can feel your heartbeat from how far your cock is in her womb. You slow down, then you pull out. Heejin's pussy is drooling cum, and she lies flat on the desk. Your head is so light that you only just now realize you're still cumming, so you jack off onto her body, mainly covering her dress in cum, though some of it reaches her chin. Heejin promptly licks that clean.

"Why," she says. "Why'd you stop? You're, you're still hard. Please."

"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees."

She obeys. "Yes, sir," she says, and you like the way she says that.

You grab Heejin's waist, and then you slam into her pussy. Your pace is just as brutal as when you started the night. Turns out that edging for weeks, then cumming inside a woman's tight pussy, then pulling out and painting her in your cum is more than enough to keep your cock rock hard, and Heejin is more than eager to have your cock pounding her hole as many times as you want.

After the fourth round, your fifth climax, Heejin is a mess on the bed, and so is your cock. It's covered in her cum and your cum and some of her saliva, and her tongue is lazily circling your cockhead while she rests her head on your thighs.

"Do you, do you want to keep going?"

Heejin nods. "Why? Are you tired?"

"I mean, I'm pretty sure I have another few in me. But my abs are killing me."

"Oh yeah? You should try doing planks."

"The way you do them? Yeah, ri—" You're interrupted when Heejin climbs up your body and grabs your cock. You flinch. "No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, Heejin."

"Are you afraid?"

You gulp. "Very."

"I promise it won't hurt. It'll be fun."

When Heejin says it, you believe her. "Fine. Go for it."

Heejin grins. "Awesome." As she positions herself over your shaft, the creampie you filled her with starts to leak onto your stomach, and she holds your cock to point it up towards her hole. She lowers her pussy, and your cock enters her again. She rides you, holding your cock by the base so that the entire time, you feel the entirety of her tunnel envelop you, and your cum is squishing all over her insides.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

If I do get around to finishing the story, I will probably delete this and the initial version of Transcendence, post the full version instead. Big if.

#asks #anon #loona smut #kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #artms smut

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aperrywilliams · 1 month ago

Text

The Science Under Suggestion (Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader.

Summary: Emily's sister is now in DC and meets her sister's colleagues for the first time. She makes a special connection with Spencer, and everything looks perfect until it doesn't. Will her reasons bury any chance between them?

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @babymetaldoll and I are hosting during October.

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I swear DC airport is bigger every time I step one foot on it. Maybe it's that or the ten-hour flight in my body doing everything extremely exhausting.

As I wait for my luggage, the only things I can think of are a bed and a nap.

Why am I here, though? Well, I'm starting a new job on Monday. After graduating, I stayed in California in a semi-formal position for a couple of months, but I thought it was time to change that.

Although I don't know anything about DC, my older sister has lived here for some years now, so she offered me a spare room and shelter until I could set up by myself.

And speaking of my sister, she is already waiting for me in the airport lobby.

"Bootsy!" she calls me to get my attention as I look around for her familiar face.

"Em!" I called back when I finally spotted her; I ran hazzardly, dropping my suitcases to hug her tightly.

Four years is a long time without seeing your sister. And even if we agreed at a younger age that we would live our lives on our terms, it doesn't mean we don't miss each other.

"It's so good to see you!" Her words are emphasized with a squeeze in our embrace.

"It's good to see you, too. And thank you for having me in your place. I swear I'll find somewhere to live as soon as I can."

Something I don't want to do is to impose; Emily has been thoughtful enough with me.

"Don't be silly. You can stay for as long as you want. Now, come on; I'm sure you fancy a shower and a nap right now."

On our way to her apartment, we use the time to catch up on the last months. As I recounted details about this job offer, she told me about her job as an FBI profiler.

It's funny in some way because even if we live apart and don't talk frequently, it feels the same as the last time we saw each other.

After a shower and a nap, I feel much better. When I look into the living room, I see Emily talking on the phone. "Today? Rossi, I can't. My sister just arrived DC."

Rossi? I think I've heard that name before.

"Okay. I'll ask her anyway."

Frowning still, I look at Emily once she hangs up the phone.

"The team is having dinner at one of my colleagues' house tonight. Come with me?"

I have never met my sister's colleagues, not even from when she worked at Interpol or the local police, much less those from the FBI. That doesn't mean she doesn't mention them from time to time. I know that the boss, Hotch, is serious and strict and that there is a certain Morgan who seems very nice. Emily has also told me a few times about JJ and Penelope and some of their nights out. She also mentioned an Italian man who is like the group's grandfather and the youngest member, who seems to be very intelligent.

"Are you sure you want me there? In a place full of FBI agents where I can embarrass you telling stories about your EMO phase?" I tease, making her snort.

"Ha. Very funny," Emily scoffs. "But I have to remind you it wasn't just a phase, okay?"

Finally, I agreed to go with her. Around 7 p.m., we took an Uber to Rossi's 'house,' which Emily claims is a mansion.

And it is.

And I can't hide my amazement when the owner greets us at the entrance.

“Welcome, my ragazzas! Please come in."

Despite its size, this house feels cozy. Each decoration seems to fit perfectly and makes you feel welcome.

After the usual greetings, Emily takes me to the patio, where laughter can be heard. I feel a little nervous; for better or worse, I will be surrounded by FBI agents who can intimidate anyone.

"Hey guys," Emily calls out, making the attention fall on us. "I want you to know my little sister."

I wave my hand sheepishly.

"Bootsy, this is Hotch, Derek, JJ, Penelope, and Spencer. I have to warn you, though, Hotch is my boss, so be careful about what you are going to say about me, uh?"

A collective laugh erupts from everyone.

"It's nice to meet you all," I greet with a smile that they kindly return.

"It's nice to meet you too," Hotch politely says.

"So you are Prentiss' little sister, uh?" The guy Emily called Derek quips.

"It's great you made it," JJ adds—she is the only one I knew by face from a picture Emily showed me some time ago.

"Bootsy? It's not your real name, isn't it?" The blonde my sister named Penelope asks me. I chuckle, shaking my head and saying my real name.

"But Emily has called me Bootsy since I can remember."

Everyone starts asking regular questions about me before turning to tell them some embarrassing stories about Emily. The only one who hasn't asked anything yet is the guy Emily calls Spencer. It's curious, though, because although he hasn't said a word, he seems very interested in listening to what I have to say.

From Emily, I know he is the youngest team member and very intelligent. What Emily forgot to mention is that, in addition to looking shy, he is quite attractive.

Tall, with messy curly hair, a jaw that could cut glass and gorgeous hazel eyes, it's clear he must attract a lot of attention.

I shouldn't be focusing on my sister's colleague like this, but Spencer is making it difficult for me.

Okay, Bootsy, it's not that terrible either. You are just 'admiring' this human being.

We stay talking until David Rossi announces dinner is ready. Did I say dinner? I correct myself; it is more of a feast.

Emily is sitting on one side, Penelope is on the other, and Spencer is in front. Why do I suddenly feel more nervous? As the conversation flows, I can't help but steal a few glances at him, and I can feel his eyes on me. What is he thinking? That I am a creep scrutinizing him with audacity? I hope he's not noticing it.

Dinner progresses, as does the conversation and the good time. It's refreshing to feel this comfortable. Now I understand why Emily feels so comfy with them.

At one point, I step out onto the patio to get some fresh air and feel the warm May night. It's different than the warmth you get in California this time of year. My eyes are fixed on the night sky when I feel someone behind me. I turn around and see Spencer looking at me curiously.

I frown and tilt my head in fake recollection.

"Spencer, right?"

Sure, like if I don't remember.

"Yes," he says, repeating my name like a question. I nod.

"Yeah. Or Emily's little sister or Mini-Prentiss. Whatever you think is best."

"Bootsy?" He asks, and I chuckle.

"Well, if you like that one, it's okay, too." A wide smile accompanies my answer.

He clears his throat and changes his weight from one toe to the other.

Is he nervous?

"Uh, did you know the word nickname is derived from the middle English' ekename,' literally meaning 'also-name'? They differ from pseudonyms, which are usually used to conceal one's identity. Actually-"

Spencer stops himself from speaking as if he realizes he did something wrong. With a crimson spreading on his cheeks, he starts to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I usually do this, and I know it's unrequited."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Spurting facts," Spencer says, pulling a face.

"You don't have to apologize for that. On the contrary, I find it interesting," I tell him honestly. "What else were you going to say?"

A shy smile precedes his next words.

"Well, nicknames played a significant role before the 13th century in England, where surnames were very uncommon. Physical characteristics played an important role in nicknaming, as people were identified by means of descriptive terms such as barefoot, brown, and Russell, many of which have become common surnames. Nicknaming in Portuguese and Spanish-speaking communities served as a means to distinguish between family members, especially those sharing both a first name and the family name."

Does he really know all that? Emily wasn't lying when she said he was the smart-ass guy in the group.

"Wow. I really didn't know that, and it's really fascinating. Do you study those things?"

"Uh. Ehm. No, but I usually know a lot of things."

Really dude? If so, I could listen to him talk about everything all night.

"That's cool, Spencer."

"Thank you. Uh - can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Why Bootsy?"

I chuckle. "Curious man I see."

"It's in my nature," Spencer says with a shrug. "But if you don't want to tell me, that's fine," he adds.

"No, no. It's okay. It's not a big deal either," I assure him. "My family says that when I was a kid and wanted something, I was unstoppable. I wouldn't stop chasing the person I wanted something from, and when my words couldn't persuade, I'd make my eyes look like the Puss in Boots cartoon. That's when Emily named me Bootsy. See? Nothing special."

A genuine smile crosses Spencer's face.

"What about you, Spencer? Something embarrasing to share with me?"

That's how we spend the rest of the night, glued to the hip, talking about everything that came to mind. It surprises me how easily and naturally the words flow between us. It's been a long time since something like that happened to me with someone.

Am I overthinking this connection?

I don't know, but Spencer has been nothing short of excellent company tonight. And although I would love to stay and chat with him for a while longer, it's time to go home.

After announcing my departure and thanking him for the night, he stops me before I turn to leave.

"Uh. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm overstepping, but I need to ask. Would - uh, would you like to grab a coffee sometime?"

It's hard not to notice the stutter in his voice and the blush on his face, and he's so adorable I want to kiss him right now. However, I restrain myself and flirtatiously reply that I would love the idea. I ask him to pass me his phone, and I write down my number. "Use it wisely," I tell him, winking before leaving after Emily, who is saying goodbye to everyone.

"Why so smiling?" Emily asks me while we are in the Uber riding back to her apartment.

"Me? I'm not," I refute, and Emily laughs.

"Sure you don't," she says with a knowing look.

In the days that follow, coffee with Spencer is a regular occurrence - as long as they're not on a case out of town, of course.

I think I've already told you the man is attractive. Well, now I have to say that's not even a quarter of what fascinates me about him. He's so caring and understanding, and I could listen to him talk for days.

I've also learned a little more about his story, mainly about his childhood and his career in the FBI. He also knows more about me, and I feel so comfortable that it scares me a little.

I think I like my sister's colleague. Scratch that; I definitely like my sister's colleague.

And I don't want to be cocky, but I think he likes me too. Now, the question is who will make the first move.

I don't have to wait long. Days later, at one of our regular coffee meetings, a no longer so nervous Spencer asks the question I have been waiting for.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Did I make him wait for my positive answer? Of course not!

Our first date is going great. As always, our conversation flows naturally, and time flies. Spencer has been very gentlemanly, too much for my liking.

Well, if he made the first move, I can make the second.

As we leave the restaurant, I subtly take his hand and intertwine our fingers. Spencer looks at our joined hands and then at my face, and a big grin appears on his face.

We walk the blocks away from my apartment - Emily's apartment, to be precise - enjoying the warm night. We stop in front of the building.

"Here is me," I announce. Our hands are still laced.

"Yeah," he sheepishly acknowledges.

After giving his hand a loving squeeze, I reluctantly let go.

"I had a great night, Spencer," I say, keeping solid eye contact with the man. Those hazel eyes that are driving me insane right now.

"Me too," he whispers, not even blinking. "Can we do this again?"

There is nothing I want more than that.

"Of course we can."

"Great."

And we stand there, silently looking at each other, trying to figure out if there is anything else to say or do.

His eyes subtly fall to my lips, and it's like my heart stops. My breath catches in my throat, and only one thought plagues my head: Kiss him.

Slowly, he leans in, testing the waters. And I do the same to close the gap.

"Dr. Reid? Is that you?"

We both jump when we hear someone talking next to us. Spencer's flushed face turns to the strange, and his eyes wide in recognition.

"Anderson," Spencer mumbles, apparently the guy's name.

After snapping out of my daze, I watch as Spencer exchanges words with the man, but their voices are drowned out by the sound of 'Dr. Reid? Is that you?' in my head.

Dr. Reid? What? Is Spencer a doctor? It can't be!

The color drains from my face, and I don't know what to do. How did I never know that? I don't notice when the man walks away, and a worried Spencer is looking at me.

"There is something wrong?"

Yeah. Now everything is wrong!

"Oh. No. No. Nothing," I stutter. The only thing I want is to run. Escape.

I thought he was perfect. It is unfair.

"Are you sure?"

Of course, Spencer isn't convinced. I wouldn't be either. But right now, I don't care. I just have to get out of here.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," I say suddenly, turning quickly to enter the building. A stunned Spencer watches me go. In the distance, I hear him calling my name, but I don't stop. I run up the stairs. My hands are shaking, and there's a fog in my head that won't let me think.

Breathlessly, I open the door and slam it shut. I press my back against it as I try to breathe.

Oh God. Why? Why?

"Bootsy?"

I don't notice Emily getting up from the couch and approaching me with concern.

I can't talk to her now. I can't speak to anyone now. I go straight to my room with tears streaming down my cheeks.

It couldn't all be so perfect, right?

You've probably heard the phrase: 'They just wouldn't understand.'

That's exactly what I would say now. What seems inexplicable to people is, to me, the source of my dismay right now. After crying all night, I avoid Emily's questions and Spencer's worried calls and texts the next day and the days follow.

I feel bad for leaving Spencer in the dark, and I feel tremendously guilty because he feels responsible. Gosh, he didn't do anything wrong except be a doctor - I checked it on Google - three times!

I can't date a doctor. I just can't.

As the days go by, Spencer's calls and texts stop. I tell myself it's for the best.

The one who isn't willing to accept my evasions is Emily.

One evening, after returning from a case and seeing me on the couch with teary eyes watching The Notebook, she decides that enough is enough.

"The Notebook? Really? Okay, spill," Emily demands, sitting by my side on the couch.

I shook my head in denial. "There is nothing to say, Em. Stop it."

"Nope. I'm not stopping until you tell me why you are like this. Bootsy, I've watched you suffer in silence for days, and it breaks my heart."

Clearly, my words aren't convincing enough, and knowing Emily, she won't let this slide this time.

"What happened with Reid? Did he do something? Because if he did, I'm going to kill him," she threatens, and my eyes widen in horror.

"Emily! No!"

Her peril mode stops, but the frown on Emily's face doesn't disappear. I think it's time to come clean.

"Spencer didn't do anything wrong. It's the opposite, actually." I don't think this is enough clarification, but it's something.

"And that has you reeling? I don't understand."

I huff in frustration. I'm at one step to a childlike tantrum.

"Why he is so perfect?!" I whine, not having in me to keep my composure anymore. Emily's brows furrow in sheer confusion.

"Is he?"

"I mean, yeah! He is so sweet, so caring, and intelligent, and hot. It's unfair, for fuck sake!"

I can stay all night reciting all the good treats Spencer has, and I don't think I could cover them all.

"I don't know if I would say all those things about Reid, but okay. I still don't understand why that is a bad thing."

I roll my eyes. Do I really have to say it?

"He's a doctor, Em! Why is he a doctor?!"

I don't know if Emily's confusion can be greater than what she surely has at this moment.

"Is that a rhetorical question? You know people get a doctor's degree after finishing their PhDs, right?"

I sigh heavily, leaning my head back, eyes on the ceiling. Emily scoots closer, a soft but firm voice leaving her lips.

"Bootsy, you know I love you, but if you don't look at me and start explaining what's gotten into you, I'll have to slap you across the face, okay?"

Still sniffling, I straighten up and look at my sister

"I can't like him, Em. I swore never to date a doctor!"

"Why - What are you talking about?" Emily's eyes change from confused to concerned.

"Do you remember when we went to see that gypsy fortune teller?" My sister narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. Were we what? Ten years old?"

I nod, swallowing hard to keep at bay my emotions.

"I was ten, you were twelve. The thing is, I asked her the age at which I would meet the love of my life, and she told me she couldn't tell me. But what she did tell me was I should not fall in love with a doctor. If I did, I was going to suffer, and my life would be a total misery."

Emily's eyes are wide open now in disbelief. I knew this would happen, and that's why I haven't told anyone about this before.

"Bootsy, don't tell me you are doing this because of what a crazy old lady told you fifteen years ago."

"No! I mean, I didn't believe her at the time. But then Randall happened," I whine, downcasting my gaze.

"Randall? Who the fuck is Randall?"

"When I moved to California, I met a guy who was in med school. He was doing his pediatric specialty at the time. We dated. And he broke my heart. And after Randall, I dated Alex, who was doing his PhD in Sociology. He left me, too. After that happened twice, I remembered the fortune teller's words. She was right, Em, so I swore not to make the same mistake again."

"Oh Bootsy, why did you never tell me about those assholes?"

I shook my head in dismissal.

"You were with the Interpol at the time. I wasn't going to bother you with something like that."

"Fuck, Bootsy. You should have told me."

"Em, it's okay-"

"It's not okay! You have been harboring this 'karma' for years, completely unfounded." There's something in Emily's eyes that catches my attention. Regret? Guilt?

"What?" Emily grimaces, and I see her hesitate. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss hesitating? That's new.

"You were so obsessed with Doogie Howser when we were kids. You always said you wanted to be like him or that you were going to marry someone like him. And you talked about it all day long. When we went to the fair, my friend Samantha and I spoke to the fortune teller first and paid her to tell you what you heard."

Emily pauses to gauge my reaction, which I can't even identify. I'm confused, stunned, and hurt all at once.

"I'm so sorry, Bootsy. If I had known how deeply her words touched you and what happened to you afterward, I wouldn't have done it."

"But - but she was right," I mumble with a cracked voice.

"No, sweetheart, she didn't. You just met shitty guys. It's not your fault, and it shouldn't dictate your future either."

It takes me a while to take in Emily's words. What I believed for years was not true, even though the facts pointed to it being so. So what am I left with now? Was it always me making bad decisions?

"Spencer," I mumble suddenly. "Spencer must hate me right now. What did I do, Em?"

"I'm sure Spencer has a lot of feelings for you, but hate isn't one of them," my sister assures me. "And always you can blame on me."

"But Emily, it's so embarrassing. He'll laugh in my face when I tell him why I've been reacting like this these days."

My sister tells me again that Spencer will understand, but I need to talk to him. I must not let this opportunity to clear things up pass me by.

Without a second thought, I get up from the couch, grab my keys and my coat, and head out to explain this mess to Spencer. It's the least I can do, even if he kicks me out afterward.

Following Emily's direction, I quickly arrive in front of Spencer's apartment door. I stand there with my fist, ready to knock.

Breathe, Bootsy. Breathe.

I knock one, two, three times.

I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. The door slowly opens to reveal a confused Spencer.

"Hey," I say, releasing the breath I'm holding. Spencer scratches his neck, thinking what to say, I assume.

"Hi," he mumbles, and it breaks my heart because his voice sounds so unsure.

Come on, Bootsy. Say what you come here to say.

"Spencer. I'm sorry. I owe you an explanation. I know I don't deserve to be listened to, but please, hear me out. I swear I'll leave you alone after," I assure him. Quietly, Spencer opens the door for me to enter.

Closing the door behind him, he turns to look at me.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, and I want to cry.

"No! Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise."

"So what happened that night?" Spencer asks, alluding to the night I ran away. "Was I too forward to try to kiss you?"

"No. It was all my fault. I swear. Can I tell you an embarrassing story?"

Frowning, he nods nonetheless, signaling to the couch for both of us to sit on.

After taking a deep breath, I recount the time I was 10, and with Emily and her friend Samantha, we went to a fair and saw a fortune teller.

As I go through the story of my failed relationships, I expect to see annoyance and disbelief on Spencer's face, but none of that happens. He listens intently, patiently waiting as I make up my own lines about how stupid it all was.

By the time I finish speaking, I avert his gaze, ready to hear his words of rejection. I'm prepared for him to kick me out of his house.

"You must know I'm a man of science, right?"

Here we go—the rejection.

I nod shyly and am surprised when one of his hands rests on my knee.

"Some scholars say that in order to demystify certain precepts, it is necessary to carry out systematic experiments to bring science under suggestion."

I frown and tip my head, trying to understand where this is going. A sheepish smile appears on Spencer's face.

"If you agree, I would like to refute what the fortune teller told you - even if it never was true and experience indicated it was - with evidence."

A slight blush creeps on my cheeks as he leans closer to me.

"And how can we do that?" I ask, eyes fluttering.

"Testing. Over and over again," Spencer whispers, his breath fanning my lips. "Are you interested? For science, of course."

My heart skips a bit, and the anticipation is killing me.

"Very," I manage to say, and I'm about to combust.

"Good," Spencer says before finally closing the gap between us with a passionate kiss.

His lips in mine must be the best science experiment I have done in my entire life. And maybe the first good decision that will change my bad luck in love.

Well, who would have thought? It looks like I can actually date a doctor after all. Spencer is confirming that fact for me right now, and I couldn't agree more.

---------------

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