#idk i just wanted to gif this goodnight
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#911#911edit#911 abc#oliver stark#byaurore#alivedean#userveronika#useraudrey2#usersaoirse#usereena#userrlaura#jddryder#mialook#userriel#useralien#userjoie#tuseronny#useraish#userisaiah#usertiny#usersonny#ajlook#alielook#tuserpris#help idncieznce#idk i just wanted to gif this goodnight#buddie
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one thing that I will criticize about Mikasa's character is that she doesn't understand Eren's (and Armin's) dream at all. The only insight we're offered into Mikasa's perspective of their dream is that she doesn't understand it and doesn't know what they're going on about. Like?? She doesn't get Eren's basic motivations?? Unless I completely missed something, Mikasa doesn't know that Eren wanted to explore an unoccupied world with Armin or that he desires 'freedom'. Which again, are Eren's base-level motivations. And she just. Isn't allowed to know??
#we'll see if i regret this in the morning#it's one of my spicier takes#cl thoughts#mikasa ackerman#it just baffles me#like. I'm sorry but I can't get behind a romance where one person doesn't know basic facts about the other#and maybe doesn't even care to know??#is that just how the author views het romantic relationships?#but no - Armin and Annie are based on having a thorough understanding of each other & motivations#so idk what the deal is#like that's the whole reason that Armin wanted to join the survey corps#and the original reason that Eren wanted to join#and she doesn't know?!??#armin arlert#eren jaeger#ema#erearu#eremin#and yes i know Mikasa fills a different narrative purpose#perhaps it was easier to keep her separate from knowing Eren in that way for plot-purposes?#and i really do like her overall arc#it's just like. damn. girly doesn't know shit about her besties apparently#idk I'll shut up goodnight
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Having a story you want to tell so bad but not having the time or talent to do so is AHFDDAKSHDJDEJEOHFKXBDKDBFKGFHDKDLOFNT UGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#I have SO MANY IDEAS and the execution never goes the way I want it to in my head!!!!#and I know I could write some of my ideas as like stories but I feel the format the sims allows (the ability to SHOW multiple characters -#and what they're going through at different times) is more optimal. I'm also like would I even have an#interesting enough story to fill like an entire book?? IDK but all these ideas have no where to go at the moment and it's making me#feel cuckoo bananas!!!! Ugh!!!!#Very frustrating. Combo of wishing I had more faith in myself and wishing I had more time and wishing I had more#ability idk maybe I just am too hard on myself#anyway the CAS overview post cor the urban homage kit is almost done I'll probably post it tomorrow#and clean out my private messages and ask box as well!!!#okay I'm done rambling now goodnight muah muah#personal#gif warning
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general ranting/check in/data collection(?)
have realized that most of my fandom-affiliated posts reach an average of 20ish notes (if they’re text-posty) and grow to numbers as great at 80ish notes (if they’re arty). i have come to the conclusion that tumblr loves my middle aged man and psychologically strange woman yaoi/yuri.
also unrelated but the charger for a computer i use sometimes has been beat up so bady that it sometimes sparks so i can’ charge it overnight ^_^
planning on getting thru more of the og trilogy tmrw as well as cleaning my swamp of a room
to top it off i’ll leave a little photo down here
me if i was a man and a lawyer
#brainrot#but over nothing in particular#can i tag phoenix wright?#i’m gonna tag phoenix wright#phoenix wright#aa trilogy#ace attorney#pc#sparks fly#(my house is going to burn down)#mindless yapping at 12 am ^ ^#except it’s actually like 1130 rn so.#oopsie#can i just ag whatever i want?#like if i tagged this homestuck would i get hunted down#nahhh#(yes)#it’s funny bcuz no one actually reads these posts of mine so it’s like#keeping a diary almost#except everything has to be very carefully masked and blurred#the internet can know that i might be neurodivergent#but they CANNOT know my name/age/gender/etc#but like the internet knows that i’m gay#but no it doesn’t???#idk bro#i’m sleepy#sleepy 😴#goodnight everyone#see you tomorrow
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⋆˚࿔ save a horse, ride a cowboy ⟢
camgirl!reader riding a very needy and tired pornstar!matt while his brothers are under the same roof.
contains: smut (p in v), unprotected sex, slight degradation, tit play (?) tiny sub matt (he won’t let it happen) idk what else im falling asleep as i type this.
a/n: proof read by matilda’s sexy ass. hope u like this new layout too okay goodnight.

you whimpered quietly, biting down harshly on your bottom lip as you rode matt’s cock, your thighs filling up with a burning sensation, the squelching noises that your pussy made each time you settled back down sent shivers down your spine.
he groaned, throwing his head back against the soft material of the pillows, his hands moving from your hips to your bare back, pulling you closer—wanting skin to skin contact.
his lips found your collarbone, dragging them down to capture your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple. his cheeks were flush, a small bead of sweat trickling down his temple, raggy moans and shaky sighs escaping both of your guys’ lips as your tight cunt milked his cock.
matt’s other hand cupped your free tit, letting go of the other one with a soft ‘pop’ before his blue needy eyes found yours. his mouth hung open, gluing his brows together.
you grinned, leaning down to brush your nose against his. “not so—mm—big and bad now that your—fuck—brothers are in the other room huh?” you taunted, darting your tongue out to trace his upper lip before kissing them harshly.
“shut the fuck up.” his head lifting up just slightly enough to follow your lips as you pulled away, a tiny whine sweeping past him as you laid your palms flat on his chest.
“oh fuck.” you whispered, rolling your eyes back, feeling his cock stuff you full, deliciously stretching you out. “can feel you in my guts.” you whined, managing to let out a giggle, fixing your posture to sit up straight.
your hands left his chest to cup your own tits, massaging them in your hands, your hips now rutting against his pelvis. his found your plushly, round ass—squeezing and tapping your cheek lightly.
“yeah? keep fuckin’ gigglin’… like i won’t flip us over and turn you into a slut.” he chuckled deeply, his drowsy eyes watching your facial expressions melt. he gripped your hips, pausing your movements to plant his feet on the bed, thrusting his cock upwards into your needy hole.
you gasp, muffling your noises with your palm as he drilled into you, coating your insides with his white load, biting away his moans as he felt your cunt clenching around his length, following your release right after.
you flopped onto his chest, the both of you panting— catching your breath. he ran his fingers through your hair, licking his own lips before speaking. “y’should talk more dirty. s’kinda sexy.”
© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍
#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭© ˚ ༘ ೀ#✰ pornstar!matt x camgirl!reader prompts ✰#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#sturniolo tumblr#matt sturniolo au#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#sturniolos#sturniolo x you#the sturniolo triplets x you#the sturniolo triplets prompt#sturniolo smut#sturn tumblr
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NEPO-BABY -> sylus
syn. you make the mistake of mentioning to sylus that you want to move.
gen. fluff..
a/n. yall idk if i like this one tbh T^T honestly just posting for the sake of posting bc i don't have the time nor the energy to write these days with how many assessments i've had to study for but ITS OKAY!! the next one will be good trust
cmts + rbgs are super duper appreciated !! :D
sylus and you had been on your usual bedtime phone call when you mentioned you were thinking of looking for a new apartment. you told him about some minor issues around your current place. the water pressure in the shower was weak, and it wasn't too helpful after a long day of hunting and sore joints. the living room windows were jammed and didn't close all the way, and it made the winter unbearable. the signal in this busy part of the city wasn't good either, it took a good minute for you to call or text. and there was plenty more for you to complain about.
as you rattled off your grievances, sylus hummed on the other end, though it sounded absentminded. he was probably half-asleep. you had a tendency to talk his ear off before bed, and he had a tendency to let you.
a few minutes later, your complaints trailed off, and his voice—deep, smooth, laced with drowsiness—cut through the silence. "you sound tired, sweetie . go to sleep."
you pouted, shifting under the covers. you were on a roll. you had at least five more things to complain about, "but-!"
"goodnight. love you."
click! he hung up.
you huffed, looking at your phone screen, before shutting it off and laying back, closing your eyes and drifting off.
the next morning, you had the day off. you scrolled through your phone as you ate breakfast, only to pause mid-bite at a notification from sylus.
an... apartment complex?
your eyebrows furrowed as you opened the message.
you recognised that place almost instantly. it was probably the most prestigious housing in the fancy side of linkon. the side where security guards stood outside every shop and ladies in expensive dresses and pearl necklaces drank tea with their pinkies out in their gigantic penthouses while their husbands were at work. you'd dreamt of living there and being one of those ladies on your off days since you were a little girl.
you responded with multiple questions.
💬 y/n: -> huh?
💬 y/n: -> why are u sending me this?
💬 y/n: -> do u have the wrong number baby?
💬 sylus: -> no
💬 sylus: -> come.
come?
you were confused out of your mind, staring at the screen in bewilderment. what the hell was he up to? maybe sylus had another one of those meetings with some important person and needed you... for whatever reason. you finished the rest of your breakfast and got dressed, heading over to the apartment complex in his message.
when you arrived at the lobby, you found sylus speaking to someone at the front desk. his presence alone seemed to unnerve the poor receptionist, who fumbled with the keyboard as sylus glanced over at you.
his hand found its place on your lower back as you stopped beside him. "is it ready?"
the receptionist nodded—perhaps a little too quickly—before handing over a keycard.
sylus took the card, giving it to you as you blinked at him with confusion. "and all the adjustments i requested?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"y-yes, mr. sylus! everything has been completed."
he hummed in approval, turning around and bringing you to the elevator, the security nodding their heads at him respectfully. as he pressed the button to the top floor, the doors slowly shut, and you were finally given the opportunity to question him.
"what's going on? what are we doing here?"
he smirked.
no, not the smirk...
"hello?!"
the elevator dinged, and the doors opened again, and before you could press him any further he began walking down the hall ahead of you in long strides as you followed behind him like some little duckling, struggling to catch up. he stopped at the end, motioning for you to scan your keycard on the door. you grumble at him, but do so, and then he enters a password, and it unlocks.
you step into a huge, fully furnished apartment, looking around curiously. it looked untouched, like some display house. the furniture was really pretty too. it was all in your favourite colour, and you even noticed some paintings and posters from your favourite artists.
you turned back at him, "who lives here? it's really nice!"
he smirked, looking way too pleased with himself "you do."
your eyebrows furrowed, not quite catching on, "no i don't."
"well, you're holding the key, aren't you sweetie?"
the rest of the day was a whirlwind. or rather, his men handled the whirlwind while you stood there in shock, directing where you wanted things placed.
sylus had, in a single night, secured one of the most expensive apartments in the city—fully paid, fully furnished, and customised to your exact tastes. it was almost terrifying how well he knew you.
and those "adjustments" you overheard earlier? oh, he wasn’t playing around. adjustable water pressure and massage jets in the bath. upgraded heating throughout the entire place. a separate service line just for you.
amongst other things.
a few weeks passed in the new place, and you loved it. it was like a dream come true.
though you did notice something odd.
the workers, the security guards, even the neighbours—all of them treated you with an almost reverent level of politeness. a doorman scrambled to open the lobby doors for you before you even reached them. a boutique owner refused to let you pay for a dress, smiling nervously as she insisted it was on the house.
it was strange.
and then one night, sylus was over for dinner, and it clicked. you put your chopsticks down, "y-you..!"
sylus looked to you with a raised eyebrow, "yes?"
"that's why people have been so nice to me! you bribed them."
his lips curled into a lazy smirk, "bribed is such a strong word, kitten."
oh. god.
you groaned, burying your face in your hands, "i'm a nepo-baby!"
#꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ fic !#love & deepspace#love & deepsace x reader#love and deepspace#lads#lads sylus#love and deep space#loveanddeepspace#lads ff#sylus fluff#sylus x mc#sylus x reader#sylus lads#love and deepspace sylus
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Companionship | pt. 4
Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader
Previous | Next
Summary: The lines of your agreement begin to blur with one simple word: sweetheart.
[ Series Masterlist ]
Note: Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented and/or followed me!! I truly appreciate each and every one of you💜(I’m screaming with joy on the inside)
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: age gap, alcohol, mild fluff, feelings, foul language, hospital stresses, some angst thrown in because what the hell, slowburn, they AWKWARD (I love them)/bad jokes, idk Robby’s a hockey fan because I could totally see that (baseball too)
not beta read
When one of your co-workers had asked you on a date the following week, you had turned him down. It had come as a surprise, not having said much more than pleasantries to each other when you passed in the hall. He was nice, attractive enough to have caught your attention before, but you told him you were not looking to date. Too busy, gotta focus on school, just not for me right now, were all valid reasons. Not because of Michael. Nope. That would be stupid.
You tried to remove yourself from getting too wrapped up in your imagination. Frankly, because it was making you incredibly anxious. You texted Erin and Marsi to hang out, to come study, to go out for brunch, anything to get you out of your apartment. You worked longer hours. You even joined a random study group with some other accounting majors.
You believed you had it all back on track just two weeks after your dinner. But it was hard to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever he called. You kept telling yourself it was still the anxiety around the arrangement and not the person on the other end.
Michael called late one Tuesday, exhausted from his shift. You began to think that perhaps he did not enjoy returning to an empty, quiet apartment to be alone with his thoughts.
“Hey,” he said, voice low, rougher than usual.
“Long night?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, laying down on your bed after changing into some pajamas.
He let out a long sigh, “Perhaps another time.”
You were smart enough to pick up on the deflection, but you hummed, “Sure.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You felt stupid for getting upset over his deflection, annoyed that it was likely just going to be another night you filled the void with your voice. Was it stupid and unjustified to get frustrated with him? More than likely. Did you feel that way anyways? Definitely. You kept trying to remind yourself you were both barely acquaintances, and this was exactly what you had signed up for.
“Can I ask you something?” You ventured, glancing at your nails.
“Shoot.”
“Why’d you become a doctor?”
There were several moments of silence as he digested the question, and you anxiously bit at the side of your nails.
“I wanted to help people.” He told you, but there was something in his tone that suggested it was just a reflex answer. In the quiet that followed, he cleared his throat, “It wasn’t easy. I was tested at every turn, still am. But it meant something. It mattered.”
Something so large went unspoken between you — I mattered. You did not dare speak on it.
“That’s very honorable.”
“Honor’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Well, I find that very honorable. Selfless.” You stressed, staring up at your ceiling.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment, “how was your day?”
Despite wanting to push, you realized that perhaps you had wandered into territory far too personal for your arrangement, which made your cheeks flare with heat. You found yourself wanting to get to know him more than was likely appropriate.
You launched into your day, discussing a few minor details about work and the new system they were slowly beginning to implement. You paused after he yawned, causing you to mirror it.
“Goodnight,” you said first, eyes heavy.
“Goodnight,”
—
It was easily your busiest day all month. Between onboarding a bunch of new employees, cashing out a handful of ones that had quit, studying for an exam, a project and a few prior commitments to hang out with your friends, you were stretched thin. You left your apartment early and were not set to return until late.
Hunger ate away at your stomach as lunchtime came and went without stopping to eat. Thankfully you had left a granola bar in your desk drawer, but it did little to satisfy you.
After clocking in overtime, you left the office just after 6 — moving into your car and finally taking a breath. You quickly went through a handful of notifications, before finding a text from Michael timestamped at 2:23.
Can we talk tonight?
You debated it. You wanted to, but you still had things to do and you were starving.
Raincheck?
I had the busiest day and I haven’t been able to eat yet.
Your phone buzzed with an alert not even a moment later, while you sat still in your car, trying to take a moment for yourself.
We could grab food instead?
. . .
New Thai place opened up near me
Your stomach grumbled, making up your mind for you. Smiling to yourself and deciding the last details of your project could be edited the following morning, you agreed, asking for the address.
You were far too hungry for the nerves of seeing him again to invade — instead trying to freshen up with the aid of your sun visor mirror and whatever you could find in your bag. Lipgloss and a tiny bottle of perfume were going to have to make it work. You studied your reflection, and tried to fix your hair as much as you could given the circumstances.
The Thai place was busy, which considering they had only just opened, should have been expected. You found a parking space near the back and sent a text to let Michael know you had arrived.
Smoothing out your work slacks and blouse once you were out of the car, you pulled your blazer tight — the evening having grown chilly. You saw Michael waiting near the front door, dressed in jeans and a casual zip-up sweatshirt, a festival t-shirt peeking through.
You smiled as you approached, “Hi.”
He smiled in return, taking you in, putting his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. “Hi.”
You glanced in the window to see how busy the place was and your stomach protested.
“They said the wait to sit down was likely going to be an hour,”
You frowned, glancing around at the other buildings on each side of the street.
“There’s a Chinese place just a block away, we could try that?” He offered.
“Do you mind?” You asked quietly, bringing your arms across your body. “I’d still like to check this place out, but I don’t think I can wait that long.”
He smiled easily, “Not at all.”
You stepped into pace with him, heading down the sidewalk towards the Chinese restaurant. You were away from the more central part of Pittsburgh, but traffic still whizzed by, undisturbed by the darkening skies.
“Did you work today?” You asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.
“No, but I have a swing shift tomorrow. Haven’t had to work one of those in awhile, but we’re short staffed.” He explained with a tiny shrug.
You absorbed the new information. “You usually work days?”
“Normally, yeah. Sort of a perk of…my job title.” He chuckled.
Part of you wanted to ask what exactly that title was, but realized it would likely give away too much information. From everything you knew about his job, it definitely seemed like he worked in a hospital as opposed to a clinic or private practice — ICU perhaps? Emergency room? Curiosity ate away in your mind, picturing him in a white lab coat, but you tried to shake off the thought.
He held the door open for you, and you stepped into the restaurant, taking it in. The smell of food was overwhelming until it was all you could consider, your stomach making it painfully obvious how empty it was. You took note of the vending machines against the wall and the two tables — both occupied. You turned back to him and watched as he noticed the lack of seating as well.
“We could just get take out,” he said, eyes meeting yours. “My place is just a few blocks away.”
You swallowed, and genuinely considered it. You were far too hungry to try someplace else and you turned to look at the menu. Fuck it.
“That was—that was forward of me. I didn’t mean—just so we have a place to sit down and eat. We can—”
You looked up at him and smiled, “No, that’s fine. Killing me would be so hypocritical of the whole ‘do no harm’ thing.”
He blinked and your face instantly heated, digesting your own words.
“That was a terrible joke, oh my god—”
He laughed. He laughed.
All your fears washed away at the sound of it, and you smiled sheepishly before turning towards the counter at the end of the restaurant.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a breath, grin still stretched across his face, “I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“No! I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to insinuate—”
He waved off your concern, moving towards the counter. “No harm done.”
You both ordered, and you got your usual and Michael ordered orange chicken — but you both moved to pay. You stared down at each of your cards, catching just a glimpse of his full name on the front — Michael C. Rob — the rest covered by his thumb. You glanced at his face.
His brown eyed gaze was on you, too, holding steady for several beats of your heart, and it took the sigh from the woman behind the counter for you to move again.
“I got it.” He said.
“Thank you.” You whispered, putting your card back into your wallet.
The woman informed you it would just take ten minutes, much to your relief. You moved off to the side and leaned against the wall to wait, Michael leaning next to you. It was a small space, filled with the sounds from the kitchen seen behind the counter, and the light conversation from the five other people sitting down.
Thoughts moving from your hunger and the food, you absorbed the information that he lived near here. It was a considerably nicer part of Pittsburgh, you knew you could never even afford a studio in the area, but it made sense. He had money — he had money to burn, considering your monthly stipend.
The walk back to his place after you had collected your food was quiet, and you savored the sound of his street — off the main streets, it was nice. You had long grown used to the white noise of cars outside your window in your own apartment.
There was a doorman when you arrived at his building, and you craned your neck to look up at it. Red brick and large windows, and your shoes clacked! on the clean tile once you were through the main door. It was immaculate, and gave you the sudden intrusive thought that you did not belong. It worked up your throat like bile and you turned your eyes to the floor.
You took the elevator up with him to one of the top floors, and you stared at yourself in the mirror on either side of the elevator. His reflection watched you, until the elevator doors opened. The hallway was empty and quiet, and you reflexively reached for the takeout bag so he could get his keys.
21B
His apartment was beautiful. Even before he flicked the lights on, you knew — late evening light spilling in from the windows along the far wall. It was an open floor plan, his front door opening into his living room with a tiny entryway. His kitchen was laid on the right side, with a quaint dining room set up, large windows and a door to a balcony. There was an archway that led to a hallway along the wall to your left — presumably to his bedroom and bathroom.
The brick accents did wonders for the space, and the furnishings were modest. Not fancy or flashy, but clearly not second-hand. There was something distinctly lived in about the space, a discarded book on the end table and scattered coasters on the coffee table. There was a dip on the L-shaped couch, a favorite spot undoubtedly, with the remote haphazardly discarded on one of the cushions.
He removed his shoes in the entryway, and you followed his lead before you followed after him.
“I don’t have much in terms of drinks,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I’ve got water and iced tea…wine, I also have wine.”
You smiled at him, placing your bag on the granite countertop. “Water’s just fine, thank you.”
He nodded, putting the takeout bag next to the sink, when he reached into one of the cabinets to get a glass. While he sorted through the bag, and got your drink, you wandered over to the windows, glancing at the city sprawled out before you, the sunset burning behind the buildings. The sky was a fine array of oranges and reds, and you found you loved the view.
Michael cleared his throat behind you, making you jump. He smiled sheepishly, handing you the glass of water. You took it with a smile of your own and sipped it.
“You have a really nice place.” You found yourself saying, still looking over the walls and wood finishes.
“Oh, thank you.”
You walked back into the kitchen with him and followed his lead bringing your food into his living room. You glanced at his dining table, but did not question it — not being able to argue to sit down on a very comfortable looking couch after you had been running around all day.
You both began eating with a Penguins game in the background, and you did your best to be polite and not inhale your food.
“Did you want to talk about your day?” He asked after a few bites of his orange chicken.
You looked over to him, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Me?”
He looked amused, “You.”
You blinked, “I mean, aside from it being an incredibly long and busy day, there’s not much to say. A shitshow, but hey, that’s showbiz, baby.”
The corners of his lips rose into a grin, “Yeah? I didn’t know accounting and show business were related.”
You held up your hand and crossed two of your fingers, “Incredibly intertwined. You could play ‘pick the narcissist’ with either profession, and you’d be right either way.”
Michael laughed, “Run into a lot of those today?”
You shrugged, but your lips were inching upward, “Without delving into company secrets, yeah, my boss can be a bit of a megalomaniac. It’s all a numbers game, even at the price of employee satisfaction. There’s been a high turnover rate recently.”
Michael nodded like he fully understood what you were talking about. “Have you considered leaving?”
“Frequently. Once I graduate, for sure. Only a few more months.” You chewed a bite of your food, the hunger in your stomach ebbing away, “How has work been for you?”
“Admin has been on my ass,” he told you, eyes flickering to the tv and back to you. “Patient satisfaction scores, you know?”
“You have satisfaction scores?” You asked incredulously, confusion knitting your brows together. “That sounds like some shit they do for a fast food chain.”
He gestured wildly with his hands, “That’s what I said.”
“I mean, sure, satisfaction is important in any industry — but that wouldn’t be my main concern in a hospital environment. How is employee satisfaction?”
“Down,” Michael said with a frown. “Understaffing is a big problem. Nurses, attendings, techs, you name it. Wait times are high, and I just don’t have the staff to bring it down.”
“Damn,” you breathed out, “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised, especially not after the pandemic.”
He looked down into his food, nodding, “The pandemic hit us hard. There’s definitely a distinct difference in life before and life after for most of us.”
You watched him, noticing the smallest wince in his cheek at the mention of it. And to think just the other week that I had been thinking how nice it had been to work from home. You swallowed your guilt with the last bite of your food, noticing how the mood shifted.
Your knees brushed when he turned his eyes back to the television, a faraway look in his eyes. You bumped his knee purposefully the second time, gaining his attention.
“I don’t know how to help you, or even if I can, or if you even want me to. But I’m always here if you want to talk, or if you need a distraction.” You offered with a small smile.
His face relaxed at that, “And that’s enough, sweetheart, thank you. Being able to talk, or think about anything else has been incredibly helpful.”
While you absorbed everything he said, the word sweetheart bounced around in your head, making your palms clammy.
“Of course, yeah,” you looked away from him, unable to hold his gaze.
“I mean it.” He said, gaining your full attention, “Thank you.”
A genuine smile appeared on your face, soft and gentle.
Hours passed with simpler conversation, both your attentions on the hockey game. But you would be lying if you said you missed the way his touch lingered on your skin, or how warm his body felt next to you, throwing your thoughts in a frenzy.
You were thankful that he was talking about simple, mundane things, because you were having a hard time focusing on it. You felt like a stupid hormonal teenager sat next to him, stuck in your own head rather than the moment.
When the game ended at a brutal 3-0 against, you could not help but yawn.
“I should probably call it,” you said, glancing at the time on your phone.
He nodded, moving to sit up, rolling his shoulders with the softest groan that short-circuited your brain. He held his hand out to you and you took it, gathering your scattered thoughts, trying to remember to grab all your things.
“Let me walk you to your car.” He said, putting on his shoes.
“You don’t have to do that—”
“Well, I’m going to anyway. It’s late and your car is several blocks away.”
You grabbed your bag, cheeks heating, “Alright.”
Once outside, you absentmindedly looped your arm with his, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. Neither of you spoke on it, his eyes only lingering on your face for a few short seconds. You enjoyed the warmth of his body, pressed into his side — the thoughts in your head momentarily quieting.
You felt like the walk to your car had been far too short as opposed to the walk to his place, and it took a moment to finally let go of him.
“Thank you for walking me.” You said, looking at him. “I had a good time tonight.”
“I did, too. Spontaneous. It was good.”
Nodding in agreement, you stepped toward your car. “I’ll let you know when I get home?”
“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you. “get home safe.”
You parted with a lingering goodbye.
—
It had only been a few days since you had heard from Michael, though that wasn’t uncommon. Part of you felt antsy about it — fingers itching to send him a message or call to check in on him. You felt foolish, a tiny part of your brain aching to connect with him. Every time the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it back down, desperate to discard it. He wasn’t looking for connection — that was the exact opposite of what he was looking for.
Sweetheart echoed in your head even now, the rough timber of his voice burrowing deep, making your heart flutter.
Huffing a long sigh, you focused back on your report, but your eyes seemed to look straight through the screen like it wasn’t even there.
When your phone buzzed, you quickly reached for it. You tried not to feel the disappointment flood through your system at the text from Marsi.
I had the worst day. Let’s go out tonight?
You pursed your lips, debating it. It surely would get your mind off a certain someone, and maybe even help you get your thoughts back on track.
Please
You sent back.
—
The bar was pretty busy. It had been a long time since you had been out on a Friday night. Marsi clearly had been through it, her numerical analytics presentation for her computer science masters had gone terribly when she had misunderstood a pretty large part of the project. She had the weekend to correct it — the professor not wanting to fail her.
But she had needed a night off, and you decided a night off would be good for you, too. It was nice. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Marsi ordered shots, downing hers as quickly as it came. You hesitated, staring at the clear liquid. You debated it, but then decided a shot and a drink wouldn’t throw off your weekend too much.
“Alright, you’re so off. Spill.”
Your eyes went wide, looking back to your friend. “What are you talking about?”
“That! That look right there.”
You pursed your lips and frowned, sipping your drink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is it a guy?” When she received no immediate answer, she continued, “Oh jeez, did he find out about that sugar daddy thing?”
“No! What? No, of course not.” Speaking quickly, you turned her eyes away from your friend, hoping she wouldn’t notice you flustering. “There’s no guy.”
Marsi did not look even slightly convinced, narrowing her eyes over her jack and ginger. “You suck at lying.”
Flustered, you tried to change the subject. “Did you catch the Penguins game last night?”
“What?” Marsi laughed, “Don’t try to change the subject!”
“There’s no guy.” You huffed, stressing your words.
She quirked an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you. Is it a taboo thing? Is it a co-worker?”
You tried to quiet your friend, hushing her. Give it to Marsi to see right through you. At least it’s not Erin, your mind commented.
“Professor?” Marsi shooed away your hands, “Jeez, stop that!”
“What? Ew, no!”
“Oh fuck.” Marsi said after a moment's realization. “Is it the sugar daddy?”
“No!” You protested quickly, too quickly, before adding with your nose scrunched and face ablaze, “Don’t call him that,”
Marsi groaned, “Jesus. Didn’t Erin warn you about that?”
You tried to collect yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your heart, your thoughts hazy from the questions. “Please don’t get it twisted. It’s not like that.”
Marsi gave an unconvinced hum, sipping her drink. “Do you wish it was?”
“I don’t—I—uhh—no!” You closed your eyes tight, leaning your head back trying to stifle your annoyed groan. You looked back at your friend, “No.”
Marsi was quiet, watching you closely.
“Look, I don’t want that. He’s nice. I enjoy talking with him, but that’s it. It’s not complicated like that.” You told her, gulping the last of your drink.
“Whatever you say,” Marsi waved off. “That guy across the bar has been eyeing you up for the last ten minutes. Maybe you should get laid.”
Your face burned, not even bothering to check. “I’m not into one-night stands.”
“I’m sure that’s the reason you haven’t looked.” Marsi said with a smirk.
You groaned in frustration. “Can you just drop it?”
“Sure, sure,” she sipped her drink. “You’re awfully flustered for it being something that’s not complicated.”
“Please.”
When you opened your eyes, Marsi was frowning at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”
You sighed, “Thank you. I just don’t want a lecture right now.”
Marsi nodded, “You’re right, we came out to have fun! Let me tell you about this—”
Your phone buzzed on the bartop, Michael’s name lighting up your screen. Marsi’s eyes flickered from the tv above the bar to your phone to your face. She gave a wry grin.
Exasperated, ignoring the butterflies in your gut, you grabbed your phone. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
Marsi laughed, “I didn’t even say anything!”
You gave her a dry look, “I’ll be right back.”
You were out of your seat, moving quickly towards the entrance of the bar. Your heart picked back up, worry ebbing into your excitement. He never called this late without warning you first.
Not wanting to risk missing his call, you answered, “Hold on.” You moved out onto the sidewalk, moving until you were under the streetlight. “Hey.”
“Am I interrupting? I’m sorry—”
“No, no. Is everything alright?”
“I just wanted to—I thought—” Michael sighed. “I just wanted to talk.”
“Oh.”
“I shouldn’t have called, you’re clearly busy,”
“I want to talk to you, too.” You said, I wanted to talk to you all day went unspoken.
“Oh.”
You smiled gently, staring down at your feet, ‘I’m just not home yet. Can I call in like an hour?”
“Please do.”
—
“So…night out…uh, solo?” He asked after you greeted each other.
Was that jealousy in his tone? No, it couldn’t be.
“Yeah, one of my friends really needed it,” you explained, kicking off your shoes and moving into your bedroom. “She had a bad day.”
“Oh.”
“I’m glad to be home now,” You said, removing your dress, placing him on speaker. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging out with her. Just Friday nights out aren’t always my thing, not much anymore, anyway.”
“I get that,” he said, his tone raspy. “I wanted to check in about work. I know the last week has been stressful for you.”
You pulled a pajama top over your head. “Some of the new staff is picking up the slack, I just hope they don’t leave before I do.” You chuckled.
He let out a breathy laugh.
You crawled into your bed, stretching out with a long yawn. “Admin still up your ass?”
“More than usual, yeah.”
It did not take long into your conversation for the light snoring on the other end to start, indicating that Michael had fallen asleep. His soft breaths in and out brought a comfort to you, enjoying the simplicity of him. Instead of ending the call, you placed your phone on the nightstand next to your head.
Closing your eyes, you laid back on your pillow and went to sleep.
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Pearls
Cregan Stark x named!fem!reader no desc (gif just for vibes)
18+!
my first smut writing and it was an intrusive thought that hasn't left my mind all week I need to get it out NEOW. I don't know my audience for this but please let it not be too niche idk 😭
Lately, Cregan had been absent from their marital chambers until the darkest parts of the night. Work had been keeping him apart from his Lady wife for far too long in her eyes. One night was almost unbearable, let alone weeks of it. Sometimes, he fell asleep in his study after pouring over scrolls and plans for hours.
It was hard to sleep without her husband, she found. After their marriage less than a year ago, they had shared the same bed every night after. Their relationship was most likely the healthiest in all of Westeros. Always in sync and filling what the other lacked. Whereas Vanya was compassionate and kind, Cregan was stern and unyielding. Together, they led the North as any Stark Lord and Lady should: In harmony.
Vanya had taken care of her tasks well, managing what Cregan could not in his time of occupation. Winter was upon them, cold and unrelenting. Vanya's first as Lady Stark, and one she intended to run smoothly to set a precedent for her live's rule.
However, even though she kept herself busy til late evening, she found her needs growing by the day. Usually, her and Cregan found themselves enjoying many rounds of pleasure before they tucked in for the night. Now, since he'd been busy, they hadn't even kissed in weeks. Simple glances at him or the feel of his arm's warmth draping over her in the early hours of the morning made her almost feral with want for her husband.
But he was always gone when she awoke. She was left to get ready for her own day of duties completely alone, longing for her husband's company. An emptiness struck her heart—one that she was determined to fill.
She got to work after her day was through. Knowing Cregan wouldn't join her til long after she was finished, she enjoyed the secretive project in the privacy of the chambers.
Pearls.
Lace.
Thread.
The only three things she dained to need for her little excursion. She worked quickly and nimbly, a nervous fluttering feeling drifting in her belly and staying there until she had finished. Quickly, she put the garment on. Satisfied by the mirror's view, Vanya giddily got dressed into her sheer white night shift.
She settled into bed, only being able to fall into a light sleep in her excitement.
It was not too long before she heard the quiet creeking of the door open and close, Cregan always making a point to enter and exit their chambers considerately. With a heavy sigh, she heard him drop his clothes and boots to the floor.
Weight dropped onto his side of the bed, and a familiar arm draped itself around her waist. Cregan sighed once more into the back of her neck, breathing in the comforting scent of his wife.
Vanya reached up gingerly, lacing her fingers with his. "Husband," she whispered, gauging his mood.
"Wife," he muttered back, thumbing absentmindedly at the space below her belly button.
"How was your day? You've been kept busy, far from the warmth of our hearth." She brought his hand up to kiss gently, starting to wake herself fully.
Cregan hummed guiltily, nodding into her smooth skin. "Tiring. I promise, once Winter starts to come to a close, I will make up every minute I spent leaving my dear wife waiting." The words were muttered slowly into the shell of her ear.
Vanya only huffed a laugh, shaking her head though he couldn't see her face. "There is time now, isn't there?" She asked coyly.
When she recieved no answer, "Cregan?"
None again, but the soft breaths coming from his nose. Turning to face him, she was met with closed eyes and a content slight smile gracing her husband's handsome features. She lay her head back on her pillow, sighing in accepted defeat. Brushing a piece of hair back behind his ear, she kissed his forehead, "goodnight, my husband."
The next day was the same as the last ones. She woke up alone again, only this time Vanya was much more determined to stoke the fire she knew Cregan had. Keeping the garment on underneath her day dress, a light powder blue number with tapered sleeves, she made her way about the Great Keep conducting her business.
Her mind was heavy with thoughts of Cregan, hunched over his desk and stressfully raking his hands through his dusty brown threads. Vanya finished her duties early, freshening up in their chambers before she returned outside of them. Hurriedly, she changed into a light blue shift, similar in color to the one she had worn out. She dabbled some sandalwood perfume oil on her neck and wrists, fixing her hair quickly before making her way towards Cregan's solar. The windows she passed by showed the fresh night sky and the dotted stars along it, the perfect time for any stray servants or maids to be tucking away for their own leisure time before bed.
Vanya took a short breath in before opening his solar door, spotting the exact visage she had imagined the whole day. Dressed in only his grey tunic visible above the pine desk, he had clearly discarded his pelts and leathers for the day, seeing as he had not even left the room once. The hearth was dying, only embers remaining. Clearly, he had wished not to be disturbed by any servants throughout the day.
He was still engrossed in writing a scroll when Vanya approached his desk. A tap on the spot above his elbow had jerked his head up, a shocked look in his eyes as he looked up at his wife. "Vanya, you should be abed already—" he said quickly.
Vanya shook her head, sitting herself on the edge of his table stubbornly. "Couldn't sleep." She lied. "I missed by husband's warmth next to me."
His lips pursed as he glanced between her and his work. "I'm sorry, I will finish as fast as I can. Wait for me?" He offered, though they both knew if she left now, he would only be swallowed up by his duties once more.
Vanya placed a hand on his cheek, running her thumb over the dark undereyes that deepened his tired expression. "I wish to stay with my husband, if it please him."
Cregan's eyes softened, nodding his agreement. He scooted his chair outwards, leaving ample room for Vanya to sit between him and the desk. Instead of sitting across his lap, as she normally would when accompanying him in his seat, she lifted her skirts to her thighs and sat facing him.
He tilted his head slightly, instinctively placing his hands over her hips to adjust her. "Won't this be uncomfortable for you?" He asked, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks and ears at the position.
Vanya shook her head, choosing to sit herself closer and bury her face into his neck. "Go on, don't let me interrupt." She said innocently, earning a glance from her husband before he followed her instructions and started back on his writing.
After a few minutes, she felt enough time had passed to make him inconspicuous of her actions. Slowly, she pressed herself closer to his chest, squishing her breasts again his own thinly clothed skin. She felt him pause and take a deep breath in before continuing, and had to bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling into his tunic.
A few more minutes passed, though she grew more impaitient with every second his hands were not on her. Slowly, she pressed her pelvis into his, revealing the hardened texture of the garment to him.
This time, he paused fully, confused. Setting the quill down, he leaned back. "What is that?" He asked, placing a hand on her hip again.
Vanya only smiled, grabbing his other hand and guiding it ever so slowly down to nethermost regions. "Feel for yourself." She cooed as she led a finger to run over the string.
"What—Pearls?" He asked, brows knitting together curiously.
Vanya nodded at the question.
"Where did you find such a thing?" Cregan asked, though did not recind his hand.
"I made them myself. Don't worry, no loud-mouthed seamstress will know of Lady Stark vying for some promiscuous garments."
"And they are..." He trailed off, swallowing heavily at the indication. Indeed, he shared in his logging and need throughout these weeks apart.
"For you, dear husband." Vanya purred, nipping softly at his bottom lip and pulling away just as fast.
Immediately, he lifted her from his lap and onto the desk, tossing aside his papers to the floor. He lifted her skirts further, bunching them carelessly at her hips as he tugged her legs to wrap around his waist.
Pinching the strand of pearls between his index and thumb, his eyes stayed glued to the glistening white pearls lying between her lower folds. Vanya felt herself throb with need at the lustful glare he held, leaning back on her hands to watch only his face.
Softly, he lifted the string to make it press against her own sensitive pearl. At her slight gasp and squirm, Cregan knelt to his knees faster than he ever had before. Glancing up at his wife's face, he silently asked for permission.
After she nodded, he was quick to move. The pearls, covered in her own essence, were moved slightly to the side as Cregan pressed his face to her core. Vanya threw her head back at the sudden stimulation, Cregan's tongue wildly moving from place to place as if he couldn't find a favorite spot.
Up and down, a solid stripe from her hole to sensitive bud. Circling the pearl with an eager swipe of his tongue, he moved down just as quickly as he began. With desperate, shallow thrusts into her clenching hole, Cregan tried and failed to press himself closer, already having no air to breathe with the space between them being nonexistent. Not that he minded, of course.
With a firm tug at his loose hair, Cregan turned his head with a heaving chest to face his wife. Looking offended at the separation, his fingers clenched at the soft parts of her upper thighs, ready to dig his face back to its spot.
Vanya whined out for him, shaking her head. She closed her thighs over his head, urging him up to meet her lips. She tasted herself on his tongue, enjoying the bittersweet slick with a deep moan. Cregan pressed himself closer, moving her by her waist to seat her on the edge of the table.
"I need you, Cregan, please." She pleaded, hards still carding through his hair to ground herself. She was so empty, only able to be whole again with Cregan's help.
At her plea, Cregan couldn't help but oblige, he unlaced his breeches urgently, allowing Vanya to strip him of his tunic and run her hands over the lean muscle of his chest and back.
He stroked himself a few times, smearing himself at her entrance. They both groaned in unision as his tip hit the string of pearls. They pressed to her swollen bud, making her jerk her hips up closer to meet his own. He slid the string to the side to make room for his length, sinking into the wet heat with a soft groan.
Her head found his shoulder again as she clawed at his shoulders, mewling. He mimicked her action, hands gripping onto her hips as he bit at her neck and collarbone sharply to conceal his moans.
His thrusts were fast and desperate, both wasting no time with soft touches and sweet nothings. That could be done later, after they were both saited and content in their own bed.
She panted heavily, reaching down between them both to rub loose circles around her pearl. He groaned as she tightened, knowing what it meant.
"Where?" He grunted out, kissing at her shoulder as a wordless apology to the angry red bite lying there.
"Inside," she gasped, tightening her legs around his waist to keep him closer.
It was not long before they both reached their peaks. Cregan continued his ministrations, thrusts becoming slower and less powerful as he winded down from his high. He stayed inside her even after they both came down, the warmth too good to pass up in the cold solar. The embers had long disappeared, leaving only the cobble to block out Winterfell's chill.
Vanya couldn't mind, either, enjoying the fullness it brought even in the sensitive state.
"What brought this on?" Cregan asked after a few long moments passed. He soothed over the marks on her hips, sure that bruises would appear in the morrow.
She hummed, kissing the space connecting his ear and jawline affectionately. "Is it too obscure for a wife to want for her husband?"
Cregan raised a brow, "of course not. I have missed you, too." He said, bringing her lips to his to kiss.
She deepened it, dragging him back to her after he pulled away. Tilting her head, she shivered at the brush of his tongue over her own, the texture a familiar delight.
Cregan pulled back after a while, a heavy look in his steel eyes. "I don't think we'll get much sleep tonight if you keep doing that."
She laughed, "I am far from tired, my Lord."
He growled playfully, bringing her from the table and carrying her in his arms. Cregan chuckled at her gasp, starting his journey to their chambers.
"Someone might see us!" She squealed into his neck, hiding her face uselessly.
"Let them. The whole of Westeros will know how my wife is the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms." He said, pinching her bottom with a cheeky smirk.
His solar was left open behind them, work long forgotten for the next day. Tonight was for Lord Stark and his Lady Wife.
🗡
Get yourself a munch like Cregan Stark
#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#hotd fanfic#cregan stark x oc#cregan stark#hotd#hotd smut#cregan stark smut
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Temptation
"I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."
Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader
Genre: Smut, angst with a fluffy ending
Word count: 5.3k
Summary: You have a crush on Scott which leads to a passionate night together, he leaves in the morning and you have to face him at work the next day.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, p in v sex, one night stand.
a/n: Idk with this one, I usually write soft and romantic so even when I tried something new it ended soft and romantic. Hopefully you enjoy it, as always send any requests you have my way! I love writing requests, I’m also looking to broaden the characters I write for so let me know if you have anything for other fandoms <3
As the headlights of Javi's pickup truck flickered across the neon sign of the "Easy Sleep Motel," the anticipation of finally seeing Scott again filled the air.
For the past few weeks, you had been chasing storms together in the heart of Tornado Alley, forming a bond that went beyond the thrill of the hunt. Scott had become more than just a colleague; his piercing blue eyes and strong jawline had sparked a flame of attraction in you that you hadn't been able to ignore.
He knew about your crush, and while he remained professional, there was an undeniable tension that danced between you like the lightning in the tempestuous skies you both loved so much. Tonight was no different, as you pulled into the motel parking lot, exhausted but exhilarated from another successful day of navigating through the volatile dance of nature's fury.
The lot was a chaotic symphony of chatter and diesel engines, with teams from all over the country sharing tales of the day's conquests and preparing for the night's rest before the next round of adrenaline-fueled chases. Javi turned to you with a knowing grin, "Looks like we're the last ones in again," he said, cutting the engine. "Ready to face the music?"
You nodded, your heart racing with excitement, unsure if it was the thought of seeing Scott or the impending storms that lay ahead. The cool evening breeze whispered through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and the promise of a new adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.
Scott had been waiting patiently in the motel lobby, leaning against the counter and shooting the breeze with the front desk clerk, a young girl with a warm smile and a hint of mischief in her eyes. He had been watching the parking lot, anticipating your arrival, his gaze drawn to the approaching headlights of your truck.
As you and Javi entered the lobby, Scott pushed away from the counter, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicked over you, taking in your wind-swept hair and the flush on your cheeks. “Finally decided to join us, huh?”
You brush away the strands of hair that are stuck to your sweaty skin. Sighing as you lean on to Javi’s shoulder, exhausted from the chase.
“Yeah, had to stop to get some food.” Javi smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist.
Scott's eyes flicker to Javi's arm around your waist, a hint of irritation in his gaze. He knows there's nothing more than friendship between you and Javi, but the sight of him touching you in such an intimate way stirs a mix of frustration and possessiveness within him.
He leans against the counter again, folding his arms across his chest. “Good thing you remembered to eat. Wouldn’t want you passing out on the road.” His tone is nonchalant, but there's a hint of an edge to it.
“Guys, I’m gonna head upstairs..” you yawn, grabbing your bag from Javi’s hand. As you bid Javi goodnight and start to head towards your room, Scott feigns indifference, pretending to gather his own things. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you make your way down the narrow hall.
After a few moments, he follows at a safe distance, his footsteps light and his eyes fixed on your back. He waits until you reach your room and unlock the door before he approaches, clearing his throat.
“Oh, Scott.” Your eyes light up as you catch his gaze, a small smile planted on your lips.
Scott's heart skips a beat as he sees the smile on your face. He tries to play it cool, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall next to your door.
"Hey." He says simply, his blue eyes searching your face. "Got a minute?"
“Mhm, come on in.” You open the door for him, going inside and taking a seat on your bed.
Scott follows you into the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He takes a moment to take in his surroundings, his gaze lingering on the way the dim light casts shadows across your features.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, his knee brushing against your leg. "So, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something."
“Yeah?” You turn to face him, “What’s up?” Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at his face.
Scott swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to compose himself.
"Well, it's just... I've been thinking... about us..." He trails off, his gaze flickering down to where his knee touches yours.
You press your palm to his thigh, shifting closer to him. “Us? What about us?” Your voice is soft and full of vulnerability.
As your hand brushes against his thigh, Scott's breath hitches in his throat. It's a simple touch, but it sends sparks dancing across his skin.
He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with an intense mix of desire and uncertainty. "I just... Can I be honest with you?"
“Yes, of course.” You murmur. Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze never straying from yours.
"I've been fighting this for a long time, but I can't deny it anymore. I'm attracted to you. I feel something when I'm around you that I've never felt with anyone else."
He reaches out, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek, the pads of his fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline. "It's driving me crazy."
You smile sweetly as you lean it for a soft kiss. Scott's eyes widen in surprise as you lean in, but he quickly melts into the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head.
His lips are warm against yours, his body tense as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. He kisses you deeply, his tongue darting to meet yours, a soft moan escaping his throat.
Scott grips your shorts as he tugs them down your legs, revealing the damp fabric of your underwear clinging to your skin. His eyes rake over you hungrily, drinking in the sight of your bare flesh. You shiver in anticipation, your body responding to his touch as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.
He kisses you again, his hand slipping beneath the elastic waistband, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You gasp into his mouth, your hips arching towards him as he explores higher. The tension between you snaps like a tightly coiled spring, and you find yourself desperately wanting more.
He seems to understand, his kisses growing more urgent as he helps you out of the rest of your clothes, leaving you exposed and trembling before him. The room feels electric with the storm of emotions brewing inside you, the anticipation of what's to come as potent as the scent of rain in the air outside.
Scott's hands continue to roam over your body, his calloused fingers leaving a trail of fire as he pulls away the last barriers between you. He stands, quickly stripping off his own shirt and pants, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching, as he reveals the powerful muscles of his chest and the defined lines of his abs, his desire for you evident in the bulge of his boxers.
With a sense of urgency, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband and slides them down, freeing his erection. It stands proudly between his legs, a testament to his need for you. He moves closer, his bare skin pressing against yours, and you can feel the heat of his arousal as it brushes against your stomach.
Your own need is palpable, your body aching for the connection you've both been craving. He kisses you again, his tongue delving deep, as he gently guides you back onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the soft mattress.
With a groan, Scott positions himself between your legs, his hand guiding his erection to your entrance. He teases you, the tip of his cock barely brushing against your wetness, making you squirm and beg for more.
He smiles, a predatory glint in his eye, before he finally pushes in, inch by inch, filling you up. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that makes you dig your nails into his back. He pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size, before he starts to move.
His strokes are slow and deliberate at first, each one sending waves of sensation crashing through your body like the thunder outside. He watches your face, memorizing every twitch and gasp as he moves deeper, his eyes dark with desire. As he starts to pick up the pace, the storm inside you matches the one raging outside, lightning strikes of pleasure firing through your veins with every thrust.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, your bodies moving in a primal dance as old as the tempests you both chase. The sound of the rain on the motel roof is the only music needed as you two lose yourselves in the intensity of the moment.
As your bodies reach their crescendo, the storm outside mirrors the tumultuous passion within the motel room. Your cries of ecstasy meld with the roar of the thunder, and Scott's deep, guttural groans echo through the air as he releases himself inside you.
The force of your shared climax sends tremors through your limbs, leaving you both panting and gasping for breath. He pulls out slowly, his gaze locked on yours, the connection between you still burning bright. He then collapses beside you, his muscular form sprawling out on the bed, one hand resting on your hip.
The rain taps a soothing rhythm against the window as you both lay there, entwined in the aftermath of your first intimate encounter. The room is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a testament to the raw power of your union.
Scott's eyes never leave yours, a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You curl into him, your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as the storm outside begins to dissipate.
As you wake up the next morning, the room bathed in the soft morning sunlight, you reach out to the empty space beside you, the sheets still warm from where Scott had been lying.
You sit up, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind, and a pang of disappointment washes over you as you realize he's gone. His clothes are nowhere to be found, the only evidence of his presence being the lingering scent of his cologne on the pillow and the imprint of his body on the mattress.
As you hastily pull your clothes on, the weight of Scott's absence settles heavily on your chest. The room suddenly feels too small, claustrophobic even, and the air seems to thicken around you.
You can't believe he left without a word, without a note, without any explanation for his actions. Tears threaten to fall, and the lump in your throat feels like it's about to choke you.
You hear a knock on the door, quickly pulling yourself together as you gather your things. When you open the door you see Javi with his warm smile and a cup of coffee.
“Good morning Javi,” you murmur, voice quiet as you take the drink from his hand.
Javi studies your face, concern etching his features. "Hey, you alright? You look like you've been through the wringer."
He takes in your red-rimmed eyes, the tightness in your shoulders, and the slight shakiness in your hands.
“Mhm,” you let out a strangled sigh as you leave the room, locking the door behind you.
Javi falls into step beside you as you make your way down the hall. He glances sideways at you, his forehead creased.
"You sure you want to head out today?" he asks gently. "You look exhausted."
“Yeah, of course.” You give him a forced smile, “I'm great, just a little tired.” Your eyes fall on Scott’s back as he talks to one of the team members.
Dread fills your veins as you take in the scene in front of you. Javi follows your gaze, noticing the way you react to the sight of Scott. He shifts awkwardly, his eyes flickering between Scott and you.
"Uh, maybe you should-" he starts to say, but you cut him off abruptly.
“Let’s go get breakfast,” you intertwine your fingers with his as you lead him out the door.
Javi shoots another glance at Scott, a protective look in his eyes as you pull him outside. The sun is already high in the sky, and it's beginning to warm the air.
He doesn't say anything, simply allowing you to lead the way as he keeps pace beside you. He can sense the tension in your body, the way your hand grips his tightly.
You sit in the passenger side of Javi’s truck, sighing as you relax into the seat, eyes fluttering shut.
Javi can feel the weight of your tiredness in the way you sit next to him, the way your head rests back against the headrest. He watches you from the corner of his eye as he turns the key in the ignition.
As the truck comes to life, the engine rumbling underneath you, he speaks quietly. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me, you know."
Your lip quivers as you turn to look out the window. “Javi..” you sigh, tears building in your eyes.
Javi's heart clenches in his chest as he hears the shake in your voice, the way it trembles as you say his name. He reaches out, his hand finding yours on the console and squeezes it gently.
"Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. "You can talk to me. It's okay."
“It’s Scott..” you take a deep breath, “uh we slept together and he left like nothing happened.” A tear slips from your eye as you bite your cheek, turning to look at him.
Javi's eyes widen in surprise, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "What? You slept with Scott?"
He glances over at you, taking in the tears in your eyes, the pain etched into your face. His protective nature kicks in, and he pulls the truck off the road.
“I thought,” you purse your lips, “I thought he felt the same way I did, but I guess it was just him trying to get some.” Your tone gets more irritated the more you speak.
Javi rubs a hand over his face, clearly frustrated with the situation. "That idiot," he mutters under his breath. He knows Scott has feelings for you, something more than just lust, yet he screwed up his chances with you in the span of one night.
He looks at you, his eyes soft with concern. "Hey, you know Scott's always been a bit... careless when it comes to relationships."
You nod, taking a deep breath and steeling your expression. “I know, I should’ve known better..” Javi brushes away your tears.
The day dragged on, each moment feeling heavier than the last as you tried to ignore the storm brewing inside you. You focused on the tasks at hand, the mundane activities of packing up your gear and checking weather reports, all while avoiding Scott's piercing gaze.
He had retreated to his own space, his eyes dark with regret and confusion. You knew you had to keep your distance; the tension was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie you once shared.
Javi, ever the perceptive friend, noticed the shift in your demeanor and the cold shoulder you were giving Scott. He tried to keep the peace, cracking jokes and steering conversations away from the unspoken elephant in the room. His attempts to lighten the mood were met with forced laughter, the tension stretching tauter with each passing hour.
“Let’s go to a bar.” You suggest as Javi starts the engine. “There’s one right next to the motel,”
Javi raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips. "You sure that's a good idea?"
He can sense the need to blow off some steam in your voice, and he knows there's no stopping you now that you've made up your mind.
“It’ll be great,” you smile at him as he pulls out into the street. Scott’s vehicle trails behind you along with the rest of the team. Javi lets them know that you’re going to the bar tonight.
After a short drive, you arrive at the bar next to the motel. It's a small, dive-bar type establishment, with a neon sign out front that flickers in the evening light.
As you get out of the car, Scott rolls up on your left, parking his vehicle alongside you. He hops out of his car, he saunters over to you and Javi.
You ignore his presence, grabbing Javi’s hand as you lead him to the entrance. Javi doesn't miss the way you purposefully avoid even looking in Scott's direction, but he decides to play along, keeping his focus solely on you.
When you reach the door, Javi opens it for you, and the two of you step inside. The bar is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. A few patrons are already scattered around, some playing pool, others watching the game on the old television set in the corner.
A few drinks in, Javi leaves to get some fresh air, leaving you alone at the table. Scott comes up to you, his face hardened as he takes a seat next to you, you avoid his gaze.
Scott sits down heavily in the chair next to you, the sound of his weight hitting the hard wood making you flinch slightly. He leans in, close enough that you can smell the alcohol on his breath.
"We need to talk," he says gruffly, his voice low.
“Why?” You turn away from him, giving him the cold shoulder.
Scott scowls at you, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t give me that attitude. We need to talk about what happened."
He grabs your arm, trying to turn you back towards him, but you stubbornly resist. Scott's grip tightens, his fingers biting into your flesh.
You move to pull his hand away, “I don’t feel like talking, Scott.” Your eyes are full of unshed tears as you look at him.
Scott's expression softens slightly when he sees the look in your eyes, a sense of guilt flickering in his own gaze. He loosens his grip on your arm but doesn’t let go.
"I know I was a dick, okay," he mutters, looking away. "But that doesn’t change the fact that we clearly need to talk."
“Scott, just leave it alone.” You get out of your seat, walking toward the exit.
Scott clenches his jaw, annoyed by your stubborn refusal to engage with him. He follows after you, reaching out to grab your wrist.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he asks through gritted teeth.
“Are you fucking drunk? Leave me alone.” You pull out of his grasp, successfully leaving the bar, Scott still hot on your heels.
Scott catches up to you just as you exit the bar, the cool night air hitting your face. He wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest and holding you in place.
His voice is softer now, the edges of annoyance faded. "Please, just listen to me."
“Scott,” you gasp his name, shocked by his hold on you. “Please stop, please. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
Scott tightens his grip, pulling you even closer against him. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of your perfume.
"It's not an excuse," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I was scared, okay? Scared of what I was feeling."
You shiver in response, hands moving to pull his arms away. “Scott..”
Scott resists your attempts to pull away, holding you firmly against him, arms wrapped around your body like a steel trap.
"Please," he pleads, his voice low and urgent. "Just listen to me. I messed up, okay? I know I did. But I thought-" He stops, taking a deep breath, his words getting caught in his throat.
“Thought what?” You murmur, still pulling at his arms, trying to wiggle away from him.
Scott lets out a frustrated growl, his grip on you tightening even more as he leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, just below your ear.
"I thought walking away would make it easier," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it didn’t. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left your room this morning."
“You know that’s not fair.” You sigh, stilling your movements as you relax in his arms.
Scott takes advantage of your pause, pressing his body even closer against you, his muscular frame molding to the curves of your body.
He nips gently at your neck, a low moan escaping from his throat as he speaks. "I know. I’m an idiot." You gasp at his lips against your skin.
He runs his hands down your sides, coming to rest on your hips, his fingers gripping the flesh tightly.
"But I can’t stop thinking about you, about the way your body felt under mine. The way you responded to me, the way you cried out my name-" Scott cuts himself off with another low moan, his breath hot against your skin, the desire in his voice undeniable.
“Scott, I..” you groan, body reacting to his touch. Scott relishes in your response, his hands moving back up to grip your hips, pulling you even closer so that your back is pressed firmly against his chest.
He kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path up to your earlobe, where he bites down gently. "Say my name again," he husks, his voice gravelly and filled with need.
“Scott, stop it..” you move out of his grasp, head spinning with desire and your stubbornness.
Scott growls at your resistance, and in a quick move, he pins you against the wall of the building, trapping you between the solid brick and his hard body.
His eyes are darkened with desire, his face mere inches away from yours. "Stop what? Stop touching you? Stop wanting you?" He leans in even closer, his voice a deep, rough whisper.
“Quit trying to sweet talk me,” you sigh, head leaning against the wall as his lips work against your neck.
Scott chuckles darkly, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he nips at your skin. "Sweet talk you? I'm not trying to sweet talk you, sweetheart. I'm telling you the truth."
He moves one of his legs in between yours, effectively trapping you even further. His fingers trail over your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake.
You push at his chest, “Scott, not here.” He relishes the sight of your eyes, the way they're filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and he can almost feel the fight leaving your body.
Scott steps back, his chest heaving from the effort it took to resist his own desires. His eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the way your cheeks are flushed with desire and frustration.
He runs a hand through his tousled hair, his expression apologetic as he meets your gaze. "Please, I need one more chance. I won't screw it up again, I swear."
You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. Scott wraps his arms around you once again, pulling you in close. He buries his face in your hair and inhales deeply, relishing in the feeling of having you so close.
"I won't walk away again," he murmurs, his voice tinged with emotion. "I promise, I'll stay, just give me a chance to prove it to you." You sigh while giving into him.
“Please don’t leave again..” your arms wrap around his waist loosely. Scott tightens his hold on you, pressing you even closer against him. His heart leaps in his chest at the sound of your voice, the raw vulnerability in your words.
"Never again," he murmurs, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender kiss. "I won't walk away from you. I promise."
You nod against him, body fully relaxing into his. Scott feels the moment you surrender to him, your body softening in his arms, and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
He cradles you against him, his hands roaming your back in soothing circles. "I’ve got you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your hair. "I won’t let go."
You lean back, searching his eyes for any deception, seeing none you lean in for a gentle kiss.
Scott melts under your kiss, his body aching for the taste of your lips. He lets out a soft sigh as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
He holds your body against his, his hands roaming over your back and hips, as if he can’t get enough of touching you.
Scott's eyes never leave yours as he takes your hand, leading you back to the motel. The air is thick with unspoken words and the weight of the unresolved tension between you. As you reach his room, he opens the door, his gaze intense and filled with determination.
He pulls you inside, the door clicking shut behind you, the final barrier between the tumultuous world and the passion that simmers just beneath the surface of your relationship. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, his heart beating a staccato rhythm that echoes the thunderstorm in your own chest.
His lips find yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to devour the regret of the morning. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he helps you shed the layers of your clothing, revealing the soft, welcoming warmth of your skin.
This time, there's no rush, no racing heartbeats to the crescendo. It's a slow dance of exploration, a silent promise that this isn't just a fleeting moment of passion but the beginning of something much more profound. Rain patters against the window, serenading your reunion, as Scott lays you on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his gaze never straying from your eyes.
With a groan, Scott rolls onto his back, pulling you along with him so that you're straddling his hips. His eyes are dark with need as he looks up at you, his hands moving to grip your waist, guiding you into position. You lean over him, your breasts brushing against his chest, the heat of your skin melding together as the storm outside reaches its peak.
He lifts his hips, his erection pressing against your wetness, and you bite your lip, the anticipation of feeling him fill you again making your stomach clench with desire. With a slow, deliberate move, you lower yourself onto him, sheathing him in your warmth. His eyes never leave yours as you start to move, your hips rising and falling in a rhythm that matches the steady beat of the rain on the window.
Each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, the intensity building with every movement. The power dynamic has shifted, and now you're in control, dictating the pace, the depth, the very essence of your connection. Scott's hands roam your body, exploring every curve and crevice.
His eyes glaze over with passion, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you bring him closer to the edge. You lean down, capturing his lips in a fiery kiss, the sound of the rain a constant backdrop to the symphony of your love-making. His hands tighten on your hips, urging you faster, deeper.
With a moan that's swallowed by his lips, your hips move faster, riding the wave of pleasure that Scott's skilled touch brings forth. Your eyes are locked on his, the intensity in them making you feel exposed, yet safe at the same time.
The sound of the rain is the only soundtrack to your passion as you move together, your bodies in perfect harmony. And then it hits you—the orgasm that's been building since the moment his lips first touched yours. It crashes over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and making your body convulse.
You cling to him, nails digging into his skin as you ride out the storm of sensation, your pussy squeezing tightly around his cock. Scott groans beneath you, the feeling of your climax pushing him closer to his own. His eyes never leave yours, the blue depths of them filled with a mix of passion and something more, something that makes your heart race even faster.
As your tremors begin to subside, you collapse onto him, your breaths mingling in the damp air, the rain outside a gentle lullaby to the aftermath of your love-making. And as you lie there, tangled in each other's arms, you know that you've found something that's just as powerful and unpredictable as the forces of nature you both chase—a love that's as wild and uncontrollable as the very storms themselves.
Scott gently slides out of you, turning you on your side so that you're facing away from him. He wraps his arms around you, his chest to your back, and pulls you close, his hand splaying over your stomach as he presses tender kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.
His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers sweet nothings, his voice a comforting rumble that soothes the storm that had been raging inside of you. You sigh contentedly, feeling the tension in your body slowly uncoil as his warmth surrounds you, his heartbeat a steady metronome against your own. His hand moves in slow, lazy circles on your stomach, each caress a silent promise of the passion that still burns within him.
His erection is still firm against your backside, a testament to his desire, but he's in no rush to take you again. Instead, he holds you tightly, his legs entwined with yours, as if afraid that if he lets go, the moment will be lost forever. His touch is tender, almost reverent, as if he's worshiping every inch of your skin.
You snuggle closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his arm across your waist, a reassuring presence that grounds you amidst the chaos of your swirling emotions. The world outside seems so far away, so insignificant compared to the sanctuary you've found in each other's arms.
And as the last droplets of rain tap against the window, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of Scott's heart and the gentle embrace of his arms, feeling more alive and connected than you ever have before.
You jolt awake, anxiety filling you as you notice the bed empty once again. You sit up in the bed, looking around the room with worry, before noticing Scott coming out of the bathroom.
Scott notices the panicked look on your face as he slips back into bed next to you. "Hey, relax," he says softly, his hand coming to rest on your back, rubbing gently in small circles. He pulls you in close against him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you snugly against his chest. "I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."
You press your cheek to his chest as you cuddle closer, “You scared me…” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you bask in his body heat.
Scott tightens his arms around you, holding you close as he peppers your hair with soft kisses. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his voice filled with regret. "I didn’t mean to scare you." He can feel the tension in your body slowly melting away as you relax against him, and he rubs your back soothingly. "I’m here now. It’s okay."
#smut#twisters#twisters 2024#twisters 2#twisters smut#scott twisters x reader#scott twisters x you#scott from twisters#scott miller x reader#scott x you#scott miller#scott#david corenswet x reader smut#david corenswet x you smut#david corenswet x you#david corenswet superman#david corenswet x reader#twisters x reader#long reads#x reader#reading#twisters x you#x you#x you fluff#x you smut#x you angst#female reader#x female reader
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I Can See You
Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)
Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.
Word count: 1,800 approx.
Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk
author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3
Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-
“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.
“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed
“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”
You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation.
“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”
“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”
“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.
Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast.
-
Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse.
By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.
As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone.
You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back.
Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically.
As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement.
“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning”
You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen.
“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly.
He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed.
“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe.
Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.
Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.
You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.
“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.
“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him.
“Mhm” you mumbled.
Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.
“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket.
You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open.
“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer”
“Good girls wait” he remarked
You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning.
It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you.
The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release.
“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless.
You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral.
“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles.
You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time.
“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish.
“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me”
You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.
“Y/N?” he questioned
“Yea” you huffed out
“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh
“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#mgg fanfiction#mgg x reader#mgg#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#emily prentiss#derek morgan#jennifer jareau
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hi :) idk if you’re open to writing right now, but if you are up to it, can you write something about any of steve and avenger/agent reader’s friends teasing the reader by getting her a pillow with steve’s face on it? everyone’s been teasing that they just get together already bc they’re super close, but they’re so shy lololol.
anyway, like steve walks in on her taking a nap either hugging the pillow or sleeping on it? thank u :,)
I fudged the setup a little, but I hope you still like it!
Warnings only for one mention of 'a**,' kissing, and some implied fantasizing, very vague. WC <2k...maybe, also not my greatest editing because there was none 🤫
Crash Closet, a Steve Rogers x agent!reader ficlet
It all started when a quinjet had to be emptied out in a hurry, and a bunch of jumpseats got shoved in a store room off the hangar bay.
They're seats, so people sat on them, laid across them, got comfy.
They brought in other pillows and blankets even after the seats themselves were reloaded in the jet. The purpose of the closet was established by then. No going back.
Since most of the time someone is trying to sleep, the lights are mainly off. The entire floor is littered with cushions of all textures, shapes, and sizes.
It's (going to be) glorious. All Steve can think about is falling face-first into the fluffy mess, but he can't get there yet. He regrets being himself today (tonight? what time is it?) because he had to be helpful, he had to supervise the off-loading of recovered weaponry, he had to do the full debriefing just to assure the newer agents that they handled themselves well.
Specifically, he was hoping to assure you, but he lost track of you somewhere between the containment lockers and labs an hour ago.
When Steve stops Nat and Sam outside the conference room to ask where you are, Natasha lets that too-friendly smile shine through and shrugs.
"Sent her to the crash closet," Sam offers. "Your girl looked rough--"
"She's not 'my girl," Steve quickly corrects while being ignored.
"--but I would too if I pulled my weight, and Perry's, and Cahill's."
"Real star power, that one." Nat taps the symbol in the middle of Steve's chest with sly smugness.
She's fishing, as she does repeatedly most days, and like most days, Steve's not falling for it.
"I'll...I'll let her sleep it off then."
Of course. Of course, you're already in the one place he wants to be. It's the chicken and the egg parable: if the comfortable room is where you usually crash, does Steve go to the room because it's comfortable or because you in the room makes it comfortable?
"Huh..." Sam scratches his head for a moment before turning to Nat. "Did you check her for a concussion? I plum forgot to have her eval-ed once we landed." He meets Steve's eye with admirably fake innocence. "She took that hit for Jeff Cahill, you know."
Steve blinks, looking back and forth between his extremely meddling friends.
Sam makes a good point. Steve should be helpful and check on you, just to be safe.
He carefully says goodnight while avoiding more suggestive jeering--not because he's fast enough to be out of earshot but because Steve refuses to listen.
He's sick of hearing it. He's sick of how he's acting even, but he can't seem to go any farther or do any more with you than he already does.
Steve loves your presence because his mind goes blank. He can relax around you. He can settle, mentally, which is problematic because his mind is blank and saying he can "settle with you" sends a thoroughly wrong message.
Most people make Steve Rogers feel he needs to be someone: a hero, a soldier, a symbol, and it's exhausting since Steve does try to live up to expectations as realistically as he can. You, however, have never made him feel there's some nebulous thing he need to live up to. You were respectful, polite, and kind, with light-hearted humor and mission seriousness in due balance.
You're refreshing. Of course Steve gravitates towards the refreshing.
Shoot.
He's walking weird.
He slows down, so it doesn't give the impression he's rushing, and Steve tries to casually acknowledge the few straggling employees along the way. He's deliberate to keep his hands neutral, not clenched or crossed, until reaching for the door handle, until the hallway light falls across your prone body, and then he forgets to spend subconscious energy on himself.
A hodgepodge of plush and padding surrounds you, as expected, but Steve is looking at his own 2-D face pressed to yours, your hand laying gently against his printed chest, and your leg thrown over his undivided legs.
You look like an angel when you sleep. He's never been so awake when seeing it though.
He stops breathing until a soft voice behind him says, "excellent. She found the surprise."
Steve quickly turns, pulling the door mostly closed without clicking the bolt, leaning to Natasha's level and whispering.
"Do you think she--"
Nat shakes her head, smiling. "All I mentioned was a new body pillow in there." She raises her hands defensively. "Do I think she knows it's got your body on it? No," Nat snorts, "pretty sure the pitch black obscured that fact."
"You put my--"
"Made one of her, too. If you're interested."
"You...put her on a life-size pillow?" Steve gets only a knowing tilt of the head. "Why?!"
"Equality," Nat snips, "and because I am great at presents. Oh, and because I got twenty percent off for ordering two."
Steve makes a point to flash a "you're insane" glare at long-time, self-appointed matchmaker.
Nat's face falls.
"Gosh, buddy, you look tired. You should take a load off. I know just the--"
She kicks the door, handle slipping unexpectedly from his grip, the other end slamming with a bang against the opposite wall.
You bolt upright, both palms braced on the star stitched over a padded uniform. "I'm ready," you shout. "What's the situation?"
Steve panics, frantically searching around him for the person to blame, but Nat is nowhere to be seen. While he does that, however, your eyes adjust to the splash of light.
"What the--shit!" You scramble backward only to fall on your ass, gaining zero traction in all the fabric.
You and Steve both point to the offending object. "I didn't do that" is shouted simultaneously.
"Is that a joke?!" you screech.
He hesitates. "Would it be...funnier knowing there's one of you somewhere around here?"
Steve's too busy staring at you staring at him to notice the door slowly shutting behind him until the room in plunged into darkness again.
You whisper, harsh with alarm, "there's a thing with my body on it, too?"
"Wow...that sounds much worse than I meant it to," he mumbles. "Didn't mean to wake you. Just--I just wanted to make sure you were--Sam said you got your bell rung pretty good?"
The pitch black proves thick in addition to all consuming.
"Yeah." There's a long pause. "I'm fine."
He'd believe you if Steve hadn't purposefully listened to everything you've ever said near him. A slight waver in your voice makes it very clear you are lying to him. He attempts to reach out, to assure you that injuries are not weaknesses, but in that single-minded focus, he forgets about the pile beneath his feet.
Steve tumbles forward, landing not a gesture of comfort but squarely on top of you.
Well, he did want to fall face first into the cushions, right? The you under him part is usually in the dreams he has after going to sleep though. He also has no practiced comment for this not being an...enthusiastically consensual position.
"Sorry" is the best Steve comes up with as he flounders and flails for solid ground.
Once he manages to push his weight off of you, your hands still rest on his chest, his real chest. He can't even see you, and yet you hold this power over him.
"You--" you breathe shakily "--aren't as soft as the other guy."
"Sorry," he repeats, accidentally perching on a knee which hitches at the apex of your legs.
"But just as comfy..."
God, he wishes he could see you.
"What?" He heard you. "I'm--you think I'm--"
"Yeah."
Steve's fist clenches in response, but that dislodges whatever props him up. Though he stays suspended above you, he shifts until his hand lands on your waist--he'd swear the move simply paints a picture of his bearings while his eyes fail him,--and his fingers spread greedily.
Aside from training and a handshake greeting, he's never gotten to touch you.
"Well, if I wasn't concussed before..." you drawl.
"No! Did you--?" Steve immediately cradles the back of your head, ignoring the climb of your hold to behind his neck, too.
You say his name a few times. "I'm joking. I'm just joking." Both thumbs sweep through his short hair. "You're easy to mess with, ya know."
It's easy to like you when you talk to him like that. Steve fights to keep his mind from slipping into that happy void, but more imagination is required than usual. He settles for the first retort to pop in.
"I think pillow-you might be nicer to me."
You laugh. "I'm not nice to you? You want me to be nicer to you, Steve?"
His hints are the drop in your voice as you tease him and the subtle lift of your head in his hand. Steve jumps to meet your lips halfway, filling the empty space in his mind with all his dreams come true. He doesn't need to see. He's pictured this so many times.
Your back arches. He slots to the right, so his nose isn't in the way. You let his tongue slide past, unimpeded. It's his dream.
He's lost in dreamland so long Steve hardly realizes you are losing steam, sighing and gasping in his arms, lazily groping around.
Shoot.
This often happens with the serum; he doesn't get tired like the average human, and though he would never describe you as 'average,' you have had a long day, a minor injury, and a vigorous session of...well, Steve's too gentlemanly to label it anything other than 'kissing,' perhaps 'necking.'
He ducks his head to break your lips apart (reluctantly), feeling the pounding of your heart through your ribcage. "You need sleep."
You absently nuzzle him. "Okay. You're right. Hand me my pillow, will you?"
Steve bristles even as he laughs, jabbed playful by your elbow.
He rolls onto his back, easily pulling you to his side, letting you settle against him in the same way as his light model decoy. It's a good settling. He's settling with you.
"I think I should stay here," he whispers, sinking into the pillows. "Keep an eye on your head."
You thank him, laying your palm over his sternum which he then pins with his own hand.
It's a start, a good settling, together.
"Sweet dreams, star. You'll see me when you wake."
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots]
A/N: yes, I put in some cheeky easter eggs for the diehards 😏
#ro answers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers one shot
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Chapter 2 so here we are...
Summary: you explain to them what year their in and they are flabbergasted.
So summary Odysseus is now trying to not break down Telemachus is sitting on the couch staring on the TV I set on for him so he can calm down sure he a grown up but he in a new environment and he just became a full adult so it's hard for him.
For Penelope she worked on calming down Odysseus who was having a mental breakdown sitting on one of the kitchen seats my eyes stared at them it was now 2:34 am the moon still glowed bright.
"Maybe I should let you guys get to bed you guys look exhausted maybe we can talk more in the morning." as I spoke I started to think 'how can I fit them all in my tiny apartment?!'
I did have a extra room it was for storage but I guess I can put Penelope and Odysseus their I do have a inflatable mattress too and the couch can expand so Telemachus can sleep there so I didn't really have to worry so I think I am ok their.
As I stepped out of the room I went to the storage room where I set up the bed.
I hadn't notice that Penelope was behind me and when I turned around I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.
"Oh sorry I just wanted to ask your name dear!" -Penelope
"Oh that's alright that was on me I didn't say my name! My name is y/n!" I said as calmly as I could Penelope looks at Odysseus who was looking outside of the windows looking at the city lights and towers.
"I can't see the moon these big building are in the way..." Odysseus moved him head around looking for the moon but it was nowhere to be seen.
"That's how the city is its towers blocking out the true light of the sky its how it is" its true what I said the city was a huge place.
"Well I fixed up the bed you guys rest and we'll talk tomorrow morning alright?" Penelope and Odysseus nods as they go to the room and laying down slowly I turn off the lights which seem to startle them a bit but quickly agusted.
I close the door softly as I stared at the sleeping Telemachus who I almost forgot about I another extra blanket and pillow and put the blanket on him an the pillow under his head softly.
I walked to my room and I looked at them a small smile.
"Well tomorrow is going to be a long day..."
Sorry took me so long it deleted itself idk why I am so sorry! Hope you had fun reading this and goodnight!
#telemachus x reader#odysseus x reader#epic penelope#in the future#epic telemachus#epic the musical x reader#epic the musical#epic odysseus#epic
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You’re a Guest in Alpine’s Home
Words: 600?? A/N: idk what you want to call this, there isn't really a plot and i haven't edited it but i was struggling to write my other fic/blurb because the english student in me was overthinking every word and grammatical choice and i just needed to write something to get going really
You've been dating Bucky for a while, and he finally invites you back to his apartment for a drink after a dinner date. He had mentioned he had a cat he loved very much, and you were excited to meet her but nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness.
As you walk into this apartment she immediately races up to Bucky and claws at his leg. Without a second thought, he drops your hand to pick her up and give her little face a whole bunch of kisses. You barely recognise the way the man in the leather jacket has softened his voice so much as he murmurs to his cat about how much he missed her and how much her loves her. Oddly, you were almost jealous that the furthest you had got with him was a respectful kiss goodnight.
A minute or two pass as he greets his kitten lovingly before remembering you were stood at his side and turning to you.
"This is Alpine," he finally formally introduces the two of you. She was adorable and fluffy and all you wanted to do was scoop her up in your arms too but the way she glared at you made you hesitate. Instead, you reach out and stroke her carefully murmuring a soft hi in an attempt to let her familiarise herself with you.
As soon as Bucky placed her down, she wandered off without a second glance at you. You watched at her as she wandered down the hall and into a room with the door open as Bucky ushered you into the kitchen in the opposite direction. "Don't mind her, she'll be back soon. She just takes a while to warm up to new people," he explains sheepishly as he invites you to sit down whilst he makes you a drink. You nod understandingly accepting the drink and sipping it as you engage in easy conversation with Bucky.
After a while Alpine makes her way into the kitchen and hops into Bucky's lap. You watch as he instinctively pets her soft fur as he continues his conversation with you. However, Alpine appears unsatisfied at the lack of attention, the way Bucky was too invested in you currently to even glance down at her and crawls up on the counter. You were a little surprised but didn't think much of it as she wandered around but she was a smart cat, and she waited for your eyes to leave her and return to Bucky before she pushed the bottle of wine you and bucky were sharing onto the floor.
It hit the floor with a loud crash and Bucky immediately jumped up and scooped her into his arms apologising to you briefly before fussing over his cat and ensuring she didn't hurt herself. You knew she loved the attention and couldn't blame her honestly. Once Bucky had properly ensured his precious kitten was not injured he stood up with her carefully and walked back down the hall. You followed behind him curiously as he entered the room you’d seen Alpine walk into earlier, you had assumed it was Bucky’s room and couldn’t help the small huff of laughter that left your lips as you realised that you were wrong.
It was Alpine’s room.
Of course she had her own room. She had a bed in every room in the apartment and toys all over the place, Bucky had sent you countless photos of the two in bed together but here was a fully furnished cat bedroom Bucky had set up for her. He had her so spoilt it was no wonder she was so possessive of him. You watched silently amused as he dropped her off and closed the door before heading back to the kitchen to clean up with you.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan#bucky barnes imagine#wintersoldier#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#buckybarnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky headcanons
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Hii! I hope you've had a great day so far, could i request a trafalger law × fem!reader who's like super horny all the time and just begs for law's attention and his cock all the time? Do what you want with the request, I just want this to be the basic premise, also i would like a friends with benenfits relationship kinda thing, but they do like eachother but just arent together yet!
Thank you, and have a great day! Please remember to take breaks, don't rush yourself and to take care of yourself!
@kyokikia thank you so much for this request ml! so sorry for the actual insane wait 🙏🏻
EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors gtfo)
a/n: idk why i struggled so much with this prompt, but i think i got something kind of coherent? definitely not my best work and a lil short, but hopefully you enjoy reading what i came up with!
don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes my day mwah
“made me wait enough”
Your mouth waters as you watch Law lean back in his seat, legs spread, head thrown back in a frustrated groan. His hands drag down his face and a sliver of skin peaks out from where his shirt rides up, and you almost moan. Your fingers buzz with the desire to touch him.
It’s been torture all week. Law’s been absolutely drowning in work, to the point where he’s been sleeping through the nights in his office chair instead of his bed.
Usually, you were admittedly pretty needy; something Law liked to tease you for. Constantly running your mouth, begging for him to give you a drop of his attention, to take care of you and ease the ache that seems to always be present when he’s around. It’s absolutely agonizing to give him space, but you’ve always respected his work ethic and ambition, and would never want to get in his way.
However, he’s been making it inexplicably difficult for you to keep to yourself. He’s barely said a word to you or the rest of the crew that wasn’t a captain’s order. You’re starting to feel actual physical pain from the distance.
You’re used to spending much more time with him, having been best friends for the better part of the last four years. If anyone has the right to be frustrated with his absence, it’s you.
You miss talking to him.
You miss his company.
You miss the way he looks at you when you cling to him.
You miss the way his hands feel when he touches you.
Your legs discreetly press together where you stand, hovering at the entrance to his office, mug of hot coffee in hand.
Coffee usually helps stoke the flames when his energy starts to dwindle, so you figured you would bring him the much needed pick-me-up before you make your way to bed. Alone.
You didn’t factor in how difficult it would be to keep yourself from jumping his bones.
Seemingly unaware of your ogling, you clear your throat to make yourself known before stepping in, setting the steaming mug on his desk.
“Thought you could use it.” You smile awkwardly, trying to conceal the filthy thoughts swirling in your head while he looks up at you through half lidded eyes. You could strangle him for making this so difficult.
He glances at the mug, then back at you, muttering a soft “Thank you.”
He looks mesmerizing when he’s tired. Hazy, far off, and soft around the edges. Your chest is aching and your throat burns with hidden desires clawing their way up your throat.
“Is there anything else you need, Captain? I’m heading to bed.” You mutter softly, praying he’ll take the hint and decide to join you.
His eyebrows twitch but he simply shakes his head, “This should do.”
His eyes burn through to your soul.
Usually you would have caved long ago, whining and begging for him to let you touch him, to take care of you the way he knew you needed it, but you wouldn't cave this time. You needed to remind yourself that he's an important man with important duties to attend to, and you would rather suffer than hold him back.
Instead, you force out a curt “Goodnight”, turning on your heels before the dam breaks and you start babbling nonsense.
Before you can take a step towards the door, you’re halted by a gentle hand around your wrist. The touch makes you shudder, biting back a whine. You missed his hands.
“You’ve been different.” Law states quietly, though you know it’s meant to be a question.
You can’t allow yourself to look at him yet. You know you’ll cave.
“You’ve been busy.”
Law hums in understanding and disappointment, gently tugging your arm to face him. Your legs feel like jelly under his gaze.
The longer he looks at you, the more aware you are of how dry your mouth is suddenly, how your stomach feels tight with restraint, and how he’s looking at you like he can read your every thought.
Law soothes his thumb along your pulse, stopping to feel your heart race beneath his fingertip. His sharp smile twists into your gut.
It fascinates you, the patience and temperment Law expresses so easily, things you’ve never been able to harness.
With a shaky sigh, you finally let go of your tongue, unable to hold back any longer.
“Please, Law? I need you.”
His hands are on you in an instant, smoothing over your curves like butter as he pulls you to straddle his hips. The second his lips touch yours, you can’t stop yourself from pulling and twisting at his shirt, seconds away from ripping it to shreds. Needy whines flow freely as you desperately rock your hips.
Law rubs a calming hand against your back, and you can feel the corners of his lips twitch with a smile against yours.
He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, and is pleased at the lewd noise it draws from your throat.
“There she is.” He grins, and you groan when he pulls away to trail down your neck. His fingers dance under your shirt, leaving goosebumps up your back as he makes work to unclasp your bra.
Your skin feels like it’s on fire, melting into him like molten lava. Every touch sends your brain into overdrive, and you need to feel more.
“Please, Law, don’t tease me.” You whine, hips stuttering, struggling to keep up with your head, “I’ve been so patient. I didn’t wanna disturb your work, but I can’t help it.”
You ramble into his ear, already barely coherent and digging your nails into his shoulders to steel yourself.
You press yourself against his chest, kissing and licking at his jaw, “I’ve missed you.”
Law cradles your cheek to sweetly kiss the corner of your mouth, dotting a feather light trail across your cheek. It’s his way of saying “I missed you too. I’m sorry.”
Your hand trails down to the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, pulling your wrist to his lips before placing it back on his shoulder. You protest as tears start to dot at your lash line.
“Let me feel you. I need to feel you.” You’re begging now, trembling against him as your patience dwindles. “I need you so bad it hurts.”
Law kisses you softly, like an anchor pulling you back down to him, grounding you. He tugs at your shirt in a silent order, and you pull away only to throw it carelessly on the floor beside you, along with your bra.
His cold hands immediately trail your exposed skin, not leaving an inch untouched. You’re practically limp against him at this point, overwhelmed and sobbing into his chest.
“Just fuck me already, made me wait enough.” You plead, tugging at his hair as you whisper filth in his ear, “Need your cock, Law, so bad. Please.”
A groan rumbles in his chest at your words, twitching in his pants. His fingers press into the fat of your hips, slowing your rocking motion to a slow rumble, rolling your clothed core against the tent in his jeans at an agonizingly perfect pace. His eyes darken when you gasp and whimper, already crumbling in his hands.
“Cum for me like this and I’ll give you anything you want.”
asks are open!
#brairslair#brairs fics#one piece#trafalgar law#one piece law#one piece smut#one piece fic#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#trafalgar law smut#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#law smut#law fic#law fanfic#law fanfiction#trafalgar law fic#trafalgar law fanfiction#trafalgar law fanfic#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar op#trafalgar water d law#anime smut#smut writing#smut requests
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yan!Batfam x Ponyo!Reader!! 🐟🩷❤️
On days like these Damien strolled around the shoreline. Patrolling the nearby warehouses, looking for any of the local villains henchmen bringing anything suspicious to them. But to his disappointment, nothing... to complete his disappointment, he hasn't been commed about anything crimes near his area.
Looking around the shore he scoffs picking up a broken bottle, "The least these criminals could do is throw their trash away..." Damien sneers as he threw it away. He can't believe it, he's so bored that he's cleaning the shoreline.... He's was a vigilante for Batman's sake! He grew up around blood and bodies!!
As he starts to clean the trash, he spots something moving and clinking around. Walking closer, it seems to be a fish! Huh... wait.... it's stuck in a jar! The closer he got, the more he saw. The fish is odd looking... quite human? Damien decides not to think further about it, he needs to help the fish. He crouches down and tries to get the fish out. As he does so he thinks, 'It looks like a goldfish... Who in their right mind dumps a goldfish in the sea, didn't they know they're freshwater??! They're also invasive and bad for the local marine life!' After struggling to get the fish out, he decided to break the jar. Picking up a near by rock, he hits the jar as hard as he could, while trying to not strike the fish.
Damien carelessly picked up the fish from the broken glass, accidentally cutting his gloves. As he was about to looks at his teared glove, he felt a sting. Dropping the fish quickly as fast he could, Damien looks down at his hand. A bite mark?! He's bleeding too, how? How could a fish bite down hard enough for him to bleed??
He read about some fish having teeth, but a goldfish having teeth? Impossible! As he ponders Damien looks down at the strange goldfish, 'Should I take it home to study it? To keep?' as he does that, his comm rings. He quickly looks at the fish then his comm. It was Alfred!
He quickly turns it on, "Hello Alfred..." a second to long for him, Alfred chimed "Hello young master Damien," without missing a beat, Damien asks "Is there anything you need?". "Yes, you have school tomorrow." said Alfred, 'Dammit,' Damien didn't even realize it's around that time! He quickly looks around and sees a plastic pail, he runs to grab it and quickly scoops up the fish with some water, and books it back to the batmobile.
Funnily enough, as he and Bruce rode into the Batcave, Bruce didn't notice the plastic pail. Damien quickly hid the bucket, and starts getting out of his costume. Just as quickly, he picks up the pail and runs back to his room. As he was up in the manor, Alfred asks, "What is in the pail, young master?" Damien froze as the question was asked. He didn't want to tell anyone about the strange goldfish, but this is Alfred asking! One cannot just keep a secret from Alfred. Reluctantly he said, "I found a strange fish while on patrol, it was stuck in a jar..." hopefully that was enough to satisfy Alfred. "Are you rehabilitating the fish, young master?" Alfred questioned again, "Yes, I am... I'm worried about it's fins, I had to break the jar after all." He(Alfred) nods, "As long as you go to bed after," he walks off, probably to treat any of his brothers who'd might've gotten hurt during patrol. "Goodnight young master." "Goodnight, Alfred..."
After their parting words, Damien goes up to his room and checks on the fish's fins. After a few minutes, there was no tear or any wounds on it. As about he was going to bed, Damien worries about the fish. The pail he currently has it in isn't an adequate enclosure. Unfortunately, that's tomorrow Damien's problem. As he closes his eyes, he thought he heard a child's voice calling his name...
(idk if Gotham is near water or somethin... but there now!!)

Ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo

Masterlist
#ponyo ghibli#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere dc#yandere batboys#x reader#oh nowo i got uwu#fanmade#jaythes1mp
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Lessons in 'Chemistry'
Request: Yes or No
Summary: After getting stranded on the side of the road, (Y/N) is helped by Sarah Cameron and given a ride home. Weeks later, she asks if he can return the favor in an unexpected way.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Typical OBX warnings, mentions of drugs and dealing, mentioned/implied classism, sexual content
Idk what possessed me but goodnight
~~~
The moment he crossed the threshold from the hallway into the bedroom, he immediately felt out of place, like a worn-out pair of dirty old boots being set amongst a shiny new pair of Mary Jane's.
He scoped out the room, noting it was much bigger than his bedroom back on the Cut, and felt a hint of uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach. Everything looked as if it'd come right out of a magazine or a sitcom based around high school, including its inhabitant who slotted into the space like the last piece of a puzzle.
Sarah leaned against her vanity, the table trembling under her weight and almost knocking over some upright lipstick tubes. She hooked her fingers into the back of one of her sneakers and pushed downward until her heel popped out, then casually tossed the shoe aside to be forgotten until she needed it again. She did similarly with the other sneaker, and then her socks, which she threw into the laundry basket a few feet away. She seemed comfortable yet nervous, her fingers fidgeting with her golden bracelet as she turned around to face him.
They weren't friends, hell, they were hardly acquaintances. Though he assumed that was precisely why she'd even approached him in the first place asking him to repay a 'favor'. It hadn't been entirely his fault that his dirt bike had chosen to suddenly stop working and she'd just happened to be driving down the same road, but that act of kindness was typically repaid with a similar favor.
He still wondered if it was all some sort of prank, a test set up by Rafe to test his loyalty or something. But Sarah clashed with her brother enough for him to take Rafe out of the equation.
"So," She exhaled, scooping her hair over one shoulder and toying with the ends of it. "What.. what should we do first?"
(Y/N) needed a drink, or two, or maybe three to process what Sarah was asking of him fully. She'd gone up to him the day prior just as he'd been preparing to drive home from another kook party with his pockets full of cash.
For a moment, when she asked if he was willing to return the favor, he thought she meant hitching a ride back to Tannyhill or scaring the shit out of some jock who wouldn't leave her alone but then she'd given him an almost sheepish smile.
"I... I want you to teach me some things." She'd said, tugging her jacket further over her body to escape the nipping chill of the night. He'd grimaced, expecting her to mean shooting a gun or doing some sort of drug that'd send her spiraling down the same path as Rafe. Instead, she nearly made him and his bike tip over into the grass. "Like... in the bedroom? How to, you know... please? Ugh, that sounds so weird."
"Why?" He'd asked slowly, the word drawled out 'cause it sounded batshit for her to be asking him and not her boyfriend.
"I don't want to embarrass myself with Top. I always hear the guys talking shit or- or complaining." Her cheeks had gone red by then, a combination of the chill and what she was asking of him. He almost felt guilty but then Topper's irritating little face flashed in his mind and he considered telling her to straight up dump the guy.
"Yeah, sure."
He'd been mostly itching to get out of the cold, his tired brain telling him it was just some dumb dare and she'd be texting him some apologies by the time he got home. His phone had vibrated with a message telling him what time he could come over without Rafe around to ask questions that night.
There he stood, half-certain the regret would begin settling in for her in a few minutes and he'd be compensated with some snacks from their walk-in pantry. She tilted her head, though, and he quickly realized that maybe the Camerons were all really fucking weird.
"You do realize this is cheating.. right?" (Y/N) asked with an arch of his brow, maneuvering his leg around the door to push it shut behind him. Maybe they'd sit on the bed and he'd offer her a free therapy session on why kook guys weren't worth stressing over, because no guys who unironically wore polo shirts and khakis together were worth stressing over. She gave a flimsy shrug.
"Yeah," She answered casually, because she was Sarah Cameron and she was known for that sort of thing, before she took a few cautious steps toward him. She looked at him like middle-aged women with nothing better to do looked at banned breeds in shelters, with intrigue and a desire to reach out. "But it's whatever. I'll have other boyfriends."
He was beginning to believe she was using him to get out of the relationship, as a reason why they weren't working out. The most that'd happen to her would be a few nasty looks from Topper, and the least that would happen to him would be a fight. A kook with a bruised ego was a dangerous kook, and he was certain Rafe believed there was a bro code between them. No macking on siblings was always a given, no matter the relationship.
"What do you want to do?" (Y/N) asked, because he wasn't fully sure what she'd meant by 'teaching' her 'things'.
The fancy private school she and the other kooks attended definitely had to have classes where they were taught anatomy, and at the very least had some basic Sex Ed classes. All Kildare County High had was a teen pregnancy epidemic that was treated like cooties because they were all at a higher risk of OD'ing on something and not making it into their twenties. Not that DARE ever swayed anyone.
Sarah smiled, almost bashful, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I want to kiss you." She answered, stepping closer to him, still slow as if she were dealing with a shelter mutt.
Something coiled around his gut, hot and electric and uncomfortable. He was no prude, he'd lost his virginity as a sophomore two years prior, but to be wanted aloud felt wrong.
His life had been spent learning how to hide, how to blend into the background and be forgotten within the hour. You only had two choices in the Cut: become a ghost floating on by or become a feral dog with bloodied teeth. He'd chosen the former, his brother the latter. To be noticed raised an alarm in his head and sent his senses into overdrive.
"Mm." He made a noise in the back of his throat, his hands furling in the pockets of his worn jacket. The room suddenly felt hot despite the AC blasting cold air into the back of his head and his fingers twitched for something to fiddle with while thought about his next words.
He was starting to wonder if maybe he was a new passion project of hers, though he'd never seen Sarah Cameron care for that sort of thing.
"Why not one of your friends?" He was stalling. He knew he could easily back out, mutter some excuse and offer to do her another favor, but some part of him wanted to stick around. Maybe for the chance at a good time, maybe from dumb curiosity. He just despised the idea of something more forming from it.
(Y/N) could hardly count as a playboy. He'd been with three girls in his long nineteen years of life and he only ever had to look one in the eyes when he attended school. The other two were tourons, the daughters of eager tourists who visited during summer break to bask on their beaches and get a taste of their day-to-day lives. He preferred them over girls he'd grown up with, over girls who lingered and could potentially continue prodding at him.
Sarah's lip jutted out in disgust. "Like Kelce or Benson? They're basically my brothers, it'd be too weird." (Y/N) did not comment on the fact either of those two would jump at the opportunity to do anything with her. He simply nodded as if he understood, as if he had girl friends who were like sisters to him. It'd always been just him and his brother.. and Rafe, he supposed, but Rafe was more like a stray who refused to leave. "Plus, they're friends with Top. I don't trust them not to snitch."
"But you trust me?" (Y/N)'s brows furrowed.
"Yeah," Sarah laughed lightly. "You're not like those other guys Rafe hangs out with." Sleazeballs, she meant.
The one singular time they'd ever had a proper conversation aside from polite small talk had been when she'd given him that ride in her shiny BMW. The car still had that brand-new smell, fresh and light and almost cool but mixed with subtle hints of vanilla and coconut that he often associated with Sarah.
She (unsurprisingly) proved to be a better driver than her brother who believed going the speed limit was optional, and she spent most of the ride chatting with him as if she were catching up with an old friend who'd left for college. It was odd, somewhat endearing but odd.
"Right." He exhaled and rolled his shoulders, his jacket sliding off his shoulders and exposing his upper arms to the cold air. He tugged each arm free from the sleeves and rolled the jacket up before jumping it on a chair pressed up against the wall beside the shelf built into the wall, the faded brown fabric clashing with the floral pattern.
If she was comparing him to Barry and his clients, the bar for trust was in hell. He could count on one hand the number of guys from that group he trusted, and it only included Barry 'cause the same blood ran through their veins.
Most of them were older men; ones with wives who despised them, divorcees with enough bitterness to create generational feuds, deadbeats who rarely remembered their kids ages or birthdays, or hopeless folks who'd long given up on their dreams of the future. (Y/N) pitied them sometimes, before he'd be reminded violence and greed came just as easy as breathing to the hopeless.
Sarah's room was incredibly nice, he noted, though an odd shape from being on the side of the manor. It looked like a hexagon cut in half with its slanted walls, leaving the lower half of it to be decorated with pictures and frames and the upper half to loom over the bed. Sarah must've really liked blue because nearly everything was blue or white. Her lamp, the floral loveseats, the large circular rug, the decorative pillows on her bed that had S and C threaded into them, the curtain. He felt tempted to ask if half the things in her bathroom were blue too.
When he tore his eyes away from a framed picture of different butterflies and their names, he found Sarah standing much closer than before. His first instinct was to flinch, to create distance between them, but his feet kept him rooted in place and rendered him to blink at her in surprise. Sarah's eyes crinkled, amused she'd caught him off guard, and then her hands moved to rest over his cheeks. Her hands were soft and smooth, free from callouses and chaffing because unlike most of the kids in the Cut, her father had ensured she'd never have to work a day in her life if she so desired.
"Can I kiss you?" Sarah asked, voice soft and almost breathless, dripping with anticipation. She cradled his face in a way that was unnatural to him, too gently, too sweet; it made him uncomfortable, it made him want to press pause and savor the moment. Affection was a fleeting thing on the Cut, and most often involved a trade of sorts.
Another threshold, another line he contemplated crossing. Technically, he'd done nothing to warrant the wrath of the kooks yet but kissing their princess would be breaking an unspoken rule between pogues and kooks. The 'war' between them was dumb, he very well acknowledged that, but he still followed the laws of their divided land to avoid conflict. Most kooks knew to leave him alone, his status as the local dealer's baby brother giving him an advantage over others, but kooks weren't particularly known for their intelligence.
"Yeah, sure," He exhaled, his go-to words with Sarah at this point, and she laughed again like windchimes in a summer breeze.
Just as expected, Sarah's lips were soft and plush, suddenly making him self-conscious about how his own lips felt. He applied chapstick a fair amount of times, would that change anything? He wasn't sure but he tried pushing the insecurity away to close his eyes and focus on not making a fool of himself in front of the nicest kook in all of Figure Eight.
His hands clumsy grasped at her waist, exposed by the crop top she wore riding up when she circled her arms around his shoulders. His hands retreated briefly when they touched her skin, worried for a moment that it was going a step too far as if their mouths weren't on each other. He placed them over her waist again more confidently, massaged the skin warm from constant time in the sun, and tried not to focus too heavily on how well he was kissing.
Sarah tilted her head and her button nose rubbed against his, her lips parting slightly and teeth gently digging into his lip. He tentatively opened his mouth, just a bit, and swallowed the muffled giggle the bottle-blonde released. He'd kissed girls before (just the three but enough to keep his brother's teasing to a minimum) but they'd always been rushed kisses, frantic and fast-paced to get to the part they actually wanted to do. Sarah took it slow, exploring his mouth and then pressing against him to encourage him to do the same.
She began moving, her chest bumping into his and forcing him to blindly move along with her until his legs bumped against her bed. They parted when he plopped down on the bed, the comforter rustling and the bed creaking softly with the added weight. He took a moment to catch his breath, to allow his mind to catch up and he peeled his hands off her waist. His lips felt different, likely smeared with the barely noticeable pink lipstick she wore, and his heart had kicked up its pace.
"What exactly-" He swallowed and pressed his palms into the smooth white comforter. "What exactly do you want help with?"
Her arms hugged his shoulders again and the moment their lips met again, she took advantage of their position and proximity by grinding her hips. His hands flew to her waist and a quiet grunt escaped him, his body naturally beginning to fully react to the situation. Her lips curved up into a victorious grin and he began to wonder just how inexperienced she actually was.
It definitely wasn't kissing. If anything, Sarah was an expert at that already with her years of dating boy after boy after boy.
He assumed the 'lessons' would be about heavy-petting or featherlight touches underneath clothes but instead of answering, Sarah smiled at him and dug her knees into the bed as she straddled his thighs. The lingering smell of her scented body lotion invaded his senses while she got comfortable on his lap, light and sweet-smelling enough to nearly make him hungry.
Sarah suddenly pulled away and brushed her fingertips over her bottom lip to wipe away the slick that'd gathered there. Her legs moved, sliding effortlessly along the comforter until her toes met the floorboards and then her knees followed with a soft thump. (Y/N) stared at her long and hard before the switch flicked and realization dawned on him like a wave of cold water.
"Is this okay?" She asked softly, her palms already moving along his thighs and hazelnut eyes peering at him through her dark lashes. She almost reminded him of a siren trying to entice him to make a costly decision, and his body seemed fairly keen on doing just that. Sarah palmed the growing bulge and smiled when he shuddered, her eyes darting back and forth between his crotch and his face.
"Are you sure about this?" He managed to ask without his voice miraculously cracking. His fingers dug into the comforter and crinkled the material but he desperately needed something to grasp onto while his brain struggled to comprehend what he'd gotten himself into. Heat invaded his face, covering his neck and ears before creeping down his spine and torso.
Sarah pressed the pad of her index finger into the button of his jeans and then nodded, her fingers popping the button and slowly dragging down the zipper until it reached its end. He felt clammy and nervous, like a fourteen-year-old seeing an old Playboy magazine for the first time or watching a scene from a film get steamy. It was the type of jittering nerves you got when you were doing something you shouldn't and the risk factor was beginning to set in. It made him a little light-headed.
Sarah's fingers dipping beneath the waistline of his jeans and the band of his briefs snapped him out of his momentary daze, his gaze darting downward in a flicker of confusion before he lifted himself enough for her to begin shimmying the articles of clothing down his legs. He lowered himself down closer to the edge of the bed, inhaling heavily through his nose when the cold air hit his thighs and reminded him he was now exposed in front of Sarah fucking Cameron.
He almost flinched when fingers curled around him and his eyes darted down, his cheeks flushing with heat at the sight of her long fingers slowly dragging over his length. He twitched in her hand, slowly hardening further, and he wished for nothing more than to shove his face into a pillow to avoid being seen by her curious eyes.
All the times he'd been touched by a girl had been quick, swift pumps before he sunk into her through a drunken haze. He wished he had a drink in hand, something that'd fog his brain and halt his instinct to overthink every single little thing. It was difficult to try not to when he had the Princess of Figure Eight with his dick in her hand. And she had the gall to look intrigued, if not delighted.
"Should I take my top off?" Sarah asked breathily, and (Y/N) almost hadn't heard her through the light ringing in his ears when she gave him an experimental squeeze.
His eyes immediately jumped down to the shirt she wore, one he actually thought looked nice. It was a light rose-pink shirt with a darker pink floral pattern that he thought looked rather fancy for a casual everyday party until he stopped to wonder if she'd dressed up a little nicer than usual just for him.
He had no sisters to run questions by, to watch and take notes of what girls purposefully did or didn't do, just an older brother who'd rob anyone if given the chance and whistled at pretty girls on the street occasionally.
He shrugged. "If you want."
Sarah smiled, a little cheekily, and released him to lift her top up and over her head, tossing it aside without a care. He swallowed thickly and her smile turned into a grin, one that blatantly spelled trouble for him. She leaned forward onto her knees, ones that'd likely be red and numb by the time she had her fill of fun, and arched her back slightly.
He tried focusing on her layered necklace, the gold one she frequently wore that had an S charm, but his eyes flickered lower regardless. His grip on the comforter tightened and he twitched again, his misery coming this time in the form of a small watery glob that trickled down from his tip.
Jesus.
A chill shot up his spine when Sarah abruptly leaned forward and dragged her tongue over his tip to collect the pre, his hips involuntarily bucking at the action. She gave a light hum and took him in her hand again, giving him a few experimental pumps that had more pre trickling down his shaft. Her eyes watched him, observing every reaction his body gave her as if it were an actual lesson and she was taking mental notes.
"I-" He made a low noise in the back of his throat and she stopped, blinking up at him with doe eyes like it was all some casual thing and wouldn't have her dad whipping out a shotgun if he walked in on them. He gave a shaky exhale regardless and raised his hand, suppressing the trembles by pressing his fingers together before he spat into his palm.
"Oh." Sarah peeled her fingers from him and brought them to her mouth, licking the mess off them while she watched him with a concreated furrow of her brow. Dangerous, was what she was.
He tried ignoring the sight and gave himself a few pumps, pre mixing with saliva and making him glisten under the sunlight pouring in from the window. Her hand replaced his and he rubbed his palms against his thigh, not daring to dirty the comforter that likely costed more than his mattress back home.
She continued moving her hand, squeezing lightly at times and slowly picked up her pace. Her eyes flickered upward to his face once his pants and quiet noises became noticeable, another spark of victory glowing in her eyes.
A strangled curse fell from his mouth when she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around him, her hands falling to grip his calves and dig half-moons into his skin. (Y/N) had half a mind to gather her bronze hair up with his cleaner hand, loosely holding it in a ponytail as she began attempting to fit him further into her mouth.
Her eyes squeezed shut, driplets of drool escaping from the corners of her mouth. He could tell she made an effort to breathe through her nose through the newfound haze in his head and gave her hair a light tug to coax her into taking a breather.
She leaned back and inhaled, her lips already swollen and slick. Her forehead creased with some frustration, reminding him that stubbornness ran in the family, before she leaned in again, wet warmth enveloping him and forcing another buck from his hips despite his best attempts at remaining still.
She made a small noise, unintentionally sending vibrations right to his gut where a knot slowly began to form and forcing a guttural groan out of him. He practically watched a lightbulb flicker in her head.
Sarah Cameron, as he came to learn, was a quick learner. She scraped him lightly with her teeth every now and again, her watery eyes jumping up to look at him apologetically to which he gave a reassuring nod despite his gaze only focusing on where they were connecting, but she managed to keep it to a minimum. She had little idea what she was attempting to do, likely going off what she'd seen or heard, but she gave it her all and was rewarded with noises he'd never heard from himself before.
It was messy, with an occasional gag or choke or gasp for air when she pulled back, but she kept going with determination he'd certainly never have.
Kook girls were certainly something.
With another curse, another half-stutter of his hips, and another surprised noise from the kneeling blonde, the tightened knot in his gut burst and he spilled in her mouth. Her hand grasped the base again and she pulled back enough to only have the tip ensnared in her mouth, suckling as if she were drinking soda that'd spilled over onto the lid of a cup.
His legs trembled and his back slumped, the AC keeping the sweat from collecting across his temple. He hoped he could shower or at least curl up for a nap somewhere in the manor like a cat who'd strolled in through an open window.
Sarah leaned back and wiped at her mouth, looking like the cat who'd caught the canary with her prideful and even smug smile. She was full of surprises.
He released her hair and took the liberty of slumping back onto the bed, letting out a heavy exhale that left his body deflating into the comforter. His view of the white ceiling was obstructed by her pretty face, lips still glistening and pulled into a small smile.
"Maybe we could.. go all the way sometime?" Sarah asked, strands of her hair tickling the side of his face when she leaned down to kiss the corner of his lips. He blinked.
"Thought this was all for Topper?"
Her nose crinkled with a laugh and her shoulders moved with a shrug. "I used him as an excuse." She revealed, lowering down to lay on top of him and prop her chin on his chest.
"Oh." He should've guessed as much; no girl with any actual interest in her partner gave head to other people. His brother always lamented about his gullibility.
"So?" She tilted her head and batted her lashes. "What do you say?"
"Yeah," He murmured, lips pulling upward. "Sure."
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