#im not sure it makes any sense for it to look like that down and how it does up lenght-wise
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puckpocketed · 3 days ago
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hello i was tagged by @18minutemajor for WIP Wednesday. it is not Wednesday but i am also not a cop so . here we gooo!!!!!!! tagging my esteemed colleagues (very politely and with no pressure!!!):
@neonfretra @oensible @sorrellegiance @moregraceful @stereax
@wheelsnipecelebrini
@korshrimpski (EDIT: it won’t?? let me tag you. unless these are on separate lines <3)
what's in-progress in your life <3 writing? art? recipe? skill acquisition?
if any crafty people see this - if ANYONE sees this - and would like to join in, feel free and consider yourself tagged <3 (and tag me back so i can see your stuff!!!) link to 18minutemajor's post if yall curious :3 my VERY long wip dump + ramblings under the cut!
its christmas soon and i like to paint gifts for my friends + and i'm finally revisiting my anime/lineart/inking era (here you are K!! my lineart past, present, and future!! <3) so here are some things i've been working on/coming back to/MAY NEVER FINISH: hockey related:
this is juraj slafkovsky and his dinky little middle part which he can absolutely learn to style into something a little less dinky but never does. i am so charmed by him. i imagine he just rocks it because his pretty privilege supersedes dinky middle parts . LMAO!!
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here is Sasuke from my Naruto Hockey AU. I am a little stuck on jersey mockups lol. here he is. our haunted little 1OA who is absolutely normal and regular about his captain (LOUD incorrect buzzer):
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personal oc art
wanna know some puckpocketed deep lore? i've never been one to make OCs. i was just not a very creative kid tbh. spent all my time drawing sailor moon instead. i still go back to her sometimes because she is one of my favourite shapes in the WORLD!!
in my 20s i took up playing d&d because of the. uh. plague. <3 and got pretty close to having OCs!! those count right? anyway. here is my tavern-wench-turned-wizard!!! i think i painted this 2 years ago? <- put dates on your works guys it saves lives. her name is Mel (short for Melins (pronounced like melons. on account of her knockers. can you tell i never grew out of my 12 yr old booby/cock joke era?) i revisited Mel recently and have started painting her in earnest again!! :3
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I briefly dated someone who was very into streetwear and fashion, and I fell down a techwear/gorpcore/cyberpunk rabbit hole for a couple days out of curiosity. i remember literally zero salient info on any of it except the broad strokes of silhouetting and Vibes. what i emerged with, however, was a ?? sorta OC?? im not sure what to call them. they dont rly have a name or gender. I did this little sheet ages ago + the aborted attempt at a portrait later:
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Here are my most recent explorations (i have been doing SOOOO much art. <3) which include:
unfinished character sheet + chibi art. I played with their jacket (much more structured/square/tailored thing) and added a lotta random buckles and belts. i took textiles class years ago and have a little experience in garment construction. and i know for a fact this thing does not make any sense. it hurts me to look at a little bit LMAO so i've paused it while i go draft patterns (badly. i was never good at drafting. i think i may have to break out my scrap fabric stash and hand sew a real life mock-up. HELP!)
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here is me having fun with them and imagining them as some kind of cyber-fisherman. the best part of every game is the fishing mini-game to me. i love fishing mini-games so much. I made their hair really big because i wanted them to have big unwieldy hair and the vibes told me i should add more movement to the piece aside from the fishing line. I messed with their jacket AGAIN because i can't stop thinking about what kinda jacket they'd wear. gorp-core ? idk. it sure is something!
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gifts for my friends :3
back in my weeb era for real YAYYYY!!! up til now i'd been making hockey art using a zero pressure sensitivity pen brush because i simply did NOT want to deal with that. it is and has always been a barrier to me making art that uses line art. <3 easing my way back into it though!
I used to paint gifts for my friends and then get them printed into lil posters and mount them on nice backing :3 i am now ready and back to painting.
Here is my girlbestie's OC. just a rough pose sketch. i think im pretty unsatisfied with the gesture of the head/hand. i wanted to include her gun in some way. i fear i may have to rework the pose entirely <3
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For the genshin girlies.. here are some of my friends fave characters.
Yelan - this one i started many holidays ago and put on the backburner because the colouring was wigging me out. you can see where i started rendering stuff + got sidetracked and started on something else (the crystal choker IM LAUGHING @ past me...)
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Ayaka - I reaaally like what i did here with the perspective + foreshortening. I don't know if the pose or expression is in-character or not, but i had fun :3 got stunlocked looking at references of genshin weapons so this is where i left off:
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if you made it all the way down here hi... <3 ice hockey really cracked the ketchup bottle open for me when it comes to making art again. i love the communities i've found, and i'm inspired by every artist on here every day. thanks for being so cool + have a great day :)
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franeridart · 4 months ago
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The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 68
Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >
Read ahead on Patreon || Catch up on Webtoon || support me on ko-fi~✨
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skrunksthatwunk · 4 months ago
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household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight
#out of three. please the third episode's what makes it okay im fighting for my life out here#it is NOT for lack of trying on my part but theres only a brief window of time when the olympics is not happening#and as it turns out the watchthrough is Not my mom's first priority (how dare she etc)#i do feel slightly bitter that we've gotten through two eps of band o brothers in the same time#we are fighting for the same timeslots yet somehow the hour long show's gotten a leg up??#you don't have time for a 23 min ep but DO for a 60 min one?? explain the math to me please#idk how to explain the vague feeling of betrayal bc it Does Not make sense Nor matter in the slightest#but cmonnnn we were doing so well. and my little bro's starting up school again soon and my dad's gotta go back to work#sometimes eventually (<- hes on medical leave) and my grandparents are coming over next week We're Losing Time Soon#ughhh if i'd known the olympics were happening (<- somehow completely oblivious to this) i'd have accounted for#my mom getting whisked away by the land of synchronized divers and shot putters and whatever the hell#happens in the summer olympics (<- only pays attention to winter olys)#bc that always happens. and *i* have to go back to school in Some Amount Of Time Im Too Scared To Check (p sure it's late aug though) and#when that happens i'll (hopefully) be stuck across town which means we won't be able to do it any time besides the weekends#and i don't wannaaaaa#i know this is the least important problem anyone's ever had like i get that i know but#it's important to me that they sit down and watch this with me. and watching it pull apart and being#the one who's easily the most invested it makes me look all desperate when i ask them for their time and they can't give it#we can only pull this off neatly in the summer and we were so close and now we're losing it right at the finish line#i don't want life to get in the way of this little bubble i've fought so hard to make y'know#and it's childish and embarrassing and whatever but i just want them to have fun with me with this thing i care about a lot#but i can't do that bc my mom needs to watch the judo matches at Every weight class#even though she's recording a lot of them? i don't understand but whatever i know it's her thing im just moping about it ig#i want it to be as perfect an experience for them as possible and it's slipping away from me#and i don't wanna leave this project unfinished when i start school y'know. sighh#i think they might feel like i only want them around when we're watching stuff. whcih is weird bc that's like#The Singular Way we family bonded literally my whole life so idk why they wouldn't get that when reversed#but either way that IS how i wanna spend time with them. i want them to understand this thing that's become a part of me#and i wanna talk With them about it. and so far it's been fun in a way it's never been before. my mom at least seems to really like it#and i want it to Keep going well bc if we lose momentum im worried they'll start finding it tedious. sighh
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krawdad · 6 months ago
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I get that they probably are trying to make the gigantic robot lizard as unscary as possible but who's idea was it to give the alligator fuzzy fleece skin
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There isn't a closeup where it's still enough to be sure but that sure looks like puppet/mascot suit fleece to me.
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Also since I'm here it looks cool without its skin
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Imagineer for scale
#I'm finding out about princess and the frog ride stuff late#im not sure it's fleece but like. they made the crocodile guy fuzzy#it doesn't look like it's even stretching all that good its moving like it has a fabric skin#did the rubber they made ursula out of not age well or what#makes more sense to me to stamp scale texture into a rubber skin than to like. make it look like a giant stuffed animal.#plus it would like. bend and stretch in ways that fabric doesnt#like the way skin does#like the way the skin of the other characters they showed did#it's like. someone somewhere said 'make sure the animatronic looks exactly like the costume' so they had to commit to that#I'm impressed with literally every other part of this figure is why I'm so focused on the skin#would be nice if the eyebrow shapes on top of the eyes moved even a little bit but that's a nitpick all else considered#i will also say that i am impressed specifically by the hand poses they chose#i dont think this figure's fingers articulate at all but the pose they put it in makes it really difficult to tell as it moves and rotates#maybe they arent even final skins who knows#so much about this works so well its sort of weird to me how the skin stands out#i didn't mention the articulated stomach panel#i appreciate that they gave him dedicated gut motors to make squash and stretch happen#but it also makes me wonder why they didnt give that eyemask shape around his eyes any movement. the whole thing could squish up or down.#tons of expressive potential squandered
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mokeonn · 11 months ago
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Okay I also just realized that since Pearl and Soul Silver can trade with each other, and in my Soul Silver game there is CLEARLY Pokémon traded over from my past Pearl and Platinum (I checked out a copy of Platinum from my library years ago to get cool legendaries and more starters) games, so once I finish my Pearl Bug run, I'm gonna absolutely do a Soul Silver solo type run. Probably normal type, but I will admit I am VERY tempted to do a different kind of challenge run because of the Dratini you can get from the Game House pretty early on in Goldenrod City and it wouldn't be too hard to get because I'm actually pretty decent at the Voltorb Flip Game.
Anyways get ready to probably get fun art about how my Bug Type run of Pokemon Pearl is going with humanizations and a cute lil trainer design over the next while and once that's done I will be finally free of the really fucking dumb Soul Silver shackles because I picked a dumb name for my character and I am haunted by it
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s0dium · 8 months ago
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Dont stop!
Geto x F!Reader
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A/n: This is how I imagine fucking geto for the first time would be like Warnings: 18+ Rough fucking, literal porn, sub space, squirting, breeding kink, mating press, unprotected sex.
~
Geto. Geto. Geto. Geto
He was consuming you, you couldn't think of anything else at this point. His smell was intoxicating, you wanted to bury your nose into it again and again, and you needed to say something. Something about how good you felt right now, something about how delicious he looks, but your brain was fuzzy from the pleasure and all that came out of your mouth was incoherent babbles. 
“Shit, Look at you. You aren’t even making any Goddamn sense.” Geto  avowed. “You like it when I fuck you stupid, huh? Knew we’d have so much fun together when I met you.” He pressed your thighs down so they are flushed against your chest, effectively folding you in half into a brutal mating press. The new angle has you squirming against his hold due to the new tickling feeling it created in your stomach. 
How did you even get here? You had no idea that your crush on your raven-haired classmate would turn into.... this. Sure you dreamed about it, but no amount of fucking yourself with a dildo could ever prepare you for the real thing, this was, euphoric.
“Come on, talk to me y/n, tell me how good you feel, how good im fucking you”
Geto groaned, keeping up his brutal pace, his breathing becoming jagged and irregular. He was close, and you were as well. You could practically taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue and your hips bucked up to meet Geto in a weak attempt to match his pace.
God he was beautiful; sweat making strands of his black hair stick to his forehead, muscles in his stomach flexing with every thrust, tongue wetting his bottom lip. 
“S’good,” you slur out, “m’so happy..huuh…”It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots. With every brush of the tip of his dick against your cervix, black spots filled your vision and pushed you closer to your high. With a choke gasp, you felt the pleasure come to a crescendo and warm liquid spray out of you and onto the Geto's abdomen.
"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He buries himself deep into your creamy pussy, relishing in the warm feeling of your pussy gripping him, before pumping a heavy load of warm cum into you.
Your body trembled from the overwhelming hotness and he smoothed a hand over your bloating stomach.
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kiemiu · 7 days ago
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voice notes your boyfriend chris leaves you | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship drabble warnings? -> slightly suggestive, use of her wc 327 (library) + (request)
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one. hey..me, nick, and matt just landed in boston about...half an hour ago? i—i can't remember i didn't get much sleep on the flight..but i wanted to call and say goodnight, and i love you but then i remembered it's 3am here so i know you're asleep by now. (long sigh followed by silence) i miss you already.
two. hi, pretty baby. you didn't answer my call so i'm assuming you're busy right now. (crunching noises) but that wouldn't make any sense because what else could you be doing besides being my girlfriend? like-(scoffs)
three. hey sweetness, i'm at target right now and im— looking up and down the toy aisle- well, im by the legos actually, and i cant remember which set you said you wanted..can you send me a pic, please? thanks.
four. (loudly burps) that one's for you.
five. can't stop thinking about you..i miss you a lot. (soft sigh) everything about you. (light whimper)
six. you look so pretty, mama. wish i was there to see all of you in person.
seven. since you're bored you should like, come over and sit on my lap while i play fortnite..yknow..just a thought.
eight. (nicks voice) if your boyfriend drinks another one of MY pepsi's you will suffer the consequences. (a hard smack is heard) (chris in the background: don't talk to her like that, are you insane?!)
nine. can't stop listening to our playlist we made together, it just makes me miss you even more even though i just saw you last night...we should just- like, move in together. or you should move in with me. i don't think the boys would mind.
ten. hi stinky, hope you feel better. i ordered some food for you and it should be getting delivered to you soon, so— make sure you pay attention to the doorbell, mkay? (kiss noise) love you, text me when you wake up.
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' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrispleasure @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash
a/n: just a quick drabble cause i'm working on smthn bigger and i still wanna post 🤭
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bandgie · 5 months ago
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Just Once - Say Yes
werewolf!Chan x fem!reader
warnings! MDNI 18+, biting, very slight blood mentions, PIV, no protection, rut, knotting, fingering, nipple play, reader says it hurts once, breeding mentions, monsterfucking? (I could have done more)
notes! you know im down bad when I get wet from just seeing images of chan like what the fuck?
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Chan knows he’s not supposed to be here, yet, that’s exactly where he is. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of his body and in a way he’s not. Your scent fills his nose even through the shut door of your bedroom. You’re sleeping, he figures. He can hear your steady, slow breaths and the gentle snores. 
His feet are planted, head resting on the wooden door as he groans. Chan wants so desperately to wake you up. To softly knock on your door until you answer in the dead of the night. Maybe seeing you will satiate his thirst. Just a glance at your figure can help him - it will be enough, but he’s not thinking rationally right now. He can’t. Not when his rut is at an all-time high. Chan is on top of his suppressors, but his breeding period and the full moon makes for an unbearable combo. 
He knows you will answer no matter how late it is. Chan can easily imagine you opening the door, dazed and confused. He would tell you he’s having a hard time by himself, tell you that he desperately needs your help.
Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. He could just grab your plush hips and pull you into a kiss. Maybe you’d mumble sleepy questions, squeak when his hands find the fat of your ass, but you’d let him. He knows you would. 
That’s why he has to leave. Now. His cock throbs just thinking about how pliant you are for him. He tells himself that he’ll be satisfied with his hand or his fleshight which makes a shitty substitute. Chan knows breeding a human during such an intense time would be too much, too rough for them. As much as his body and wolf beg for you, that sliver of humanity is intact.
So he whines, quiet and high. Chan wills his legs to move, stepping back until he’s no longer pressed against your door. The floorboards creak under his feet with every step. He swears they’re telling him to go back, to bang on your door and pump you until he’s sure you’re knocked up. He really has lost it, convinced that the wood beneath is telling him to screw you.
Unbelievable. 
He’s too busy laughing and fighting with himself to hear you slip out of bed. Chan misses your quiet feet treading to your bedroom door, slowly opening it as you adjust your eyes in the dark. 
“Channie?”
The floorboards must be cursed to sound like you or maybe his rut is just that bad. He tried to brush off your call as him going insane, but the hair on his neck stands and the smell of you is so much stronger. Chan doesn’t want to turn around for your sake. His composure will break and he doesn’t want to imagine what you look like right now. 
“What are you doing out here?” You sound so tired barely coming out of your slumber. Chan doesn’t sense any fear from you, not even worry. You’re far too sleepy to feel anything beyond confusion. The trust you have for your lover, even if he is half beast, is endearing. It makes his heart swell and his stomach turn. He can’t tell if your love for him is naive or pure. Perhaps both.
He’s going to tell you that he’s okay. He just had a bad dream and needed to walk around the house for a bit. It’s not uncommon to see your boyfriend wandering the house late at night; you know how difficult it is for him to sleep. Chan was going to tell you, but he felt your hand wrap around his bicep. You gently tug him until he faces you and what a mistake that is. You’re dressed in a shirt much too big for you, his shirt. It barely goes past your ass and your pebbled nipples poke through the fabric. Your eyes are squinted, lips swollen from sleep. Chan’s eyes are captivated by your human beauty when you say, “Channie, is everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay. Chan’s been fucking into his hand for hours pretending it’s you - he’s knotted into his toy countless times. When he did get the stupid courage to go to your door, he backed away. It’s even worse now his cock is leaking being so close to you.
You should have stayed sleeping.
His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in. There’s no time to question him when Chan presses his lips against yours. Your lover is usually gentle during kisses. He takes time to cup your cheek, to tilt his head so your mouths can better align. If he was really into it, he would suck on your bottom lip only to bite it until you gasped.
He doesn’t kiss you like that now, not even in the slightest. His hands cup your ass just as he imagined. They knead and dig into your flesh, pressing you flush against his crotch. His lips are rough and messy. Your teeth clash almost animalistically and he hears you whine into the kiss. Chan can’t tell if you're whining due to the neediness from his mouth or cock. He knows you can feel his stiffness against your leg. 
Your dainty hands find his chest to gently push at it. Chan’s usually good at reading the room, knowing what to do and when to do it. But this isn’t your Channie. He can’t even feel your fists when he keeps shoving his tongue down your throat. The taste of you is addicting. All he wants to do is feel you from the inside out. To have every part of him connected with you in the most primal way. 
It’s not until you whimper again that he notices. Chan sucks harshly on your tongue before he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. His eyes are dazed when he looks at your features. Your face is flushed and your eyes are wide. If you were still asleep before, you’re wide awake now. Chan can tell you’re trying to come up with what to say, but you already know. You can feel his boner on your thigh, you can see the glow in his eyes, and the fact that his body seems thicker, denser. Chan has only let you see him during the end of his rut. He’ll lock himself in his room for days until he’s ready to socialize. You could always hear him on the other side though. How the slick sounds of whatever he’s using are surely filled with cum. If you pressed your ear against the frame, you could hear him softly calling out your name. You wanted to see him so bad. No matter how many times you asked, Chan would turn you down. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. I don't want to hurt you.
But that Chan is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re faced with the very wolf he’s tried so desperately to keep you from. 
“Sorry,” he already knows what trouble you’ll be in tonight. “Hurts so bad. I can’t take it.” Chan grinds his cock to show you. “Just one knot. Just one I promise.” Ah, a promise. You both know how much Chan loves keeping his promises, but this is one he doesn’t know you’re hoping he’ll break. 
He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. He doesn’t think stopping is possible at this point, but he’d try. Chan is already trying to ignore how his lips ache for yours and stop thinking about how perfectly your body molds into his, but you hold on to him tighter. 
Chan doesn’t hear you say yes with how loud his blood drums in his ears, but he does see you nod. The sultry look in your eyes will do you more harm than good. He doesn't ask twice, doesn’t think twice. He smashes his lips against yours again, walking you back to your room without caring how you trip over your own feet. 
You feel the bed on the back of your knees and Chan rips himself from the kiss. He pushes you on the mattress, quickly crawling over you as one of his hands lifts the shirt to your shoulder. You gasp at how quickly he’s moving. His hot mouth is already latched onto your nipple while his hand dips past your underwear. 
By some magic, you’re already wet. Chan only plays with your clit for seconds before dripping his thick fingers into your heat. Squeals and wet pumps fill the room. Your back arches when he bites on your nipple, tugging the bud and letting go before doing it all over again. Bruises are already forming on your breast and Chan is eager to make your other match. His slick fingers pull from your pussy to tug your underwear down instead.
Your panties hang from one ankle, legs wide as Chan settles between them. The entrance of your cunt slightly gapes from his fingers. No time is wasted as he shrugs his boxers off, eyes never leaving your core. You almost want to close your legs from his staring, but you would miss the view of his cock springing free. 
“Oh shit,” you gawk at his size. Chan’s always been thick, a fat head that always stretches you out just right. But this - this is massive. His rut must make everything bigger. Even the knot that sits at the base of his cock seems triple in size. “Channie, I don’t think- there’s no way in hell you can fit.”
But he’s already stroking himself. Your worries fall on deaf ears when his fat tip touches your clit. He moans at the feeling of your lips around him. He presses his cock so that it grinds against your flesh hard. Your mouth falls open, gaze dropping so you can see him rock against your pussy. 
You think you could cum just like this. His engorged cock provides the perfect veins and ridges for stimulation. Still, your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It makes you think about what it would feel like to have his raw cock in you. Chan can tell you’re ready for it when you start grinding back, tilting your hips so his tip catches your entrance. 
It’s going to fit - he’ll make sure. Even if you cry and beg for him to slow down, he knows your body will break for him.
And it does just that with the first intrusion. The swell of his cock easily slides into you with a few inches following before he meets the inevitable resistance of your tight cunt. You whine, hands finding purchase on the pillow beneath you. It doesn't hurt, not in the slightest, but you can feel the pressure. Your walls clench and squeeze his girth until he forces himself to pull an inch out.
“Baby, shit,” he breathes. Chan attempts to gain composure through controlled inhales and exhales. “Why are you always so tight?”
Before you can even think about answering his rhetorical question, he thrusts himself deeper. Chan follows his breath, using his airflow as a metronome. In, out, in, out. Deeper, inch by inch, before he sees his knot come to contact with your cunt. 
He’s trying, really trying not to just pin your hands down by your sides and fuck his hips into you. Instead, he keeps his hands at your thighs, but he’s not sure if that’s any better. Chan’s claws dig into your tender flesh leaving marks that nearly split your skin. It must hurt with how hard he’s gripping you but your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust. 
Just like he thought, you’re so good to him. Even with your pretty whines and whimpers, you’re still such a good girl for your Channie.
Such a good girl.
It gets to him: your flushed cheeks, your bouncing tits, the moans that tumble from your swollen lips, and how your hands have moved from the pillow to try and grasp onto him instead. You must want more, he reasons. You must with the cream he sees coating his length every time he pulls out. You must with how you’re chanting his name, nearly sobbing it. 
You must with how you make his knot ache, begging to already shove its way inside you and spill. 
Chan can imagine it, he can taste it. It’s such a strong need that he growls, his sharp canines showing from his lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Saliva drips down his teeth when he thinks about biting you. Leaving marks on your neck that will only help hold you down while his knot finds its place in your womb. You hardly notice the droll seeping your tummy, too caught up with how harshly Chan is fucking into you.
You do, however, feel how his hips change pace. They get harder, sloppier as if he’s trying to shove that god-forsaken knot into you. 
“Channie!” It’s half-panicked and half-breathless. “Wait! That’s not - hng! I can’t-”
“You can,” he snarls. “And I will.”
Now you can see his teeth that clamp down so hard that his drool is tinted with pink. This is the first time you’ve seen him for what he truly is - a beast. A monster in its purest form with eyes that seem to glow, pitch-black nails that will surely leave marks for weeks, and canines you know can shred you in a second. 
Even with all of that, you know that this man - this wolf - is Channie. Your Channie.
So you don’t whine against him anymore. You don’t try to escape him when he lays his head in between your shoulder and neck to sink his teeth into. You embrace the bite, fully expecting unbearable pain, but instead, it’s blinded by the stretch of his knot in you.
Pleasure and pain intertwine, unable to separate from each other when Chan completely surrounds you. But your body reacts before your brain can. You let out a yelp and scratch your dull nails down his sculpted back. Chan moans into your neck at the feeling, shoving his hips impossibly deeper just to feel you do it again. 
“Sh-shit! Channie! Hurts…” but he doesn’t see your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his seed pumping into you. 
Chan doesn’t reply, can’t reply with how he’s pulled his teeth from you and begun licking your wounds. But he knows. His balls tense and release with every spurt of cum he gives you and you whimper with every pump. 
He’ll apologize in the morning; pamper you and make sure that you’re well rested. He’ll make sure to take care of you real good, especially with the chance of you giving him pups. 
Fuck. He can’t think like that. His cock jumps at the thought and he swears his knot swells all over again. Chan inhales your human scent, reminding him that you’re his priority no matter how much his rut makes him needy to breed. But even in his frenzy state, he doesn’t dare to tell you knotting can last up to 30 minutes.
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satorudoll · 1 year ago
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Baby Gumi giving Toji the sus look when he saw the love bites on Mommy's chest
Toji forgot his baby has sharp senses for a baby and baby thought Toji ate his food or hurt Mommy lol
(im starting to feel like y'all wanna turn this acc into a toji thirst vault)
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Megumi always had a habit of looking up at his dad weird, the two year old boy always found his dad weird.
So he would spend most of his time toddling towards you and taking up any free space that was available next to you.
The baby boy loved to be in your arms very much, therefore everytime he woke up to find you already waiting there for him near his crib with a warm smile he'd try to get up on his small chubby legs holding onto the rail guards of the crib then forward one of his hands to make grabby hands at you.
You spent most of the day holding the baby boy in one arm and doing every other chore in your house while your husband was out for work because Megumi absolutely refused to leave your side unless he was in a deep slumber.
But as much competent the little boy was so was his dad, Megumi enjoyed all his fun time with you until it was time for his dad to come back from work, the two year old will get all pouty and fussy as soon as he'll hear the slamming of the front door and a loud "I'm home!" followed by the literal thudding of his dad's running feet.
The baby boy's brows would knit together and his tiny button nose would scrunch in distaste as soon as his dad would pull you away from his side to engulf you in a hug and lay bunch of his dirty smooches on your face.
ew, Megumi would think.
Megumi always got annoyed at his dad for doing these stuff to his mom, believing his mom was just a very nice lady to not turn his dad down.
The little boy knew his fun time was over as soon as his dad was home. He would toddle out of his room and find you sitting alone in the couch, peacefully watching television, then he would proceed to start running towards you almost tumbling in his steps just so he can climb up and sit down next to you.
But then the tall giant will casually walk in and let his entire body fall down horizontally on the couch, immediately planting his head on your thighs as well, leaving literally no space for Megumi.
The two year old boy would pause in literal disgust and shock,
This would get the two year old so mad that he would get down to pick up his toy spoon from the floor and start smacking it on the old man's head who in return would start yelling in surprise at why his son was being such a brat while you try pulling him away from his dad.
Now Megumi thought he has seen all the worst sides of his dad, until, one morning the baby boy wakes up way too early than usual due to a nightmare. Not finding you besides his crib he immediately manages to crawl up by standing on his little pile of plushies.
Megumi was indeed a smart baby.
Tumbling towards his parent's shared bedroom he could hear some weird noises coming as he got closer,
he was sure most of it were your voices though?
But you sounded like you were in pain??
He slowly opens the door which was already a bit agape,
he really couldn't understand what was going on since he was way too small and his vision could only go up so far.
But then he hears the loud sound of what he considered to be a slap along with the rough angry voice of his dad followed by your sobs,
he cannot believe his dad was hurting you ! Oh he always believed his dad was a mad man,
He was definitely worst than the monsters under his crib !
and that's all it takes for the baby boy's bottom lips to quiver and let the loudest wail out,
He felt like that helped because through his blurry vision he sees his dad immediately spring out of the bed, murmuring a string of what you taught him were "bad words" while fumbling around for something.
Your head pops out of the covers as soon as you were done fixing your night gown but the two year old was way too busy crying and rolling fat drops of tears down his red cheeks to realize that you had taken him in your arms.
"Gumi- baby what's wrong- " you try to rock him in your arms but that didn't seem to be helping,
"you are just like me kid, all grumpy early in the morning" His dad tries casually playing it off after slumping down besides you both,
but the 'just like me' causes the baby's cries to get even worst making you pass your husband a mad glare for saying that,
Toji stares at you both offended.
"I'm sorry, mommy wasn't there this morning- Won't happen again honey! I'll play with you all day today, we wont be able to play if you keep crying!" you smile as he starts to slowly quite down at those words.
"What a good little boy" You praise, slowly caressing his head and moving his little black baby hair away from his forehead.
His pout is still on his face as his vision moves down from your face but then it stops,
while Toji was joking at you about how he deserves the 'good boy' title as well and you were busy brushing him off, you both failed to notice the little boy's growing frown as he stared at all the purple bruises around your neck and collar bones.
He feels his vision start to get blurry again and then its there again,
His mouth opens wide showing off the two new set of teeth as he starts crying bloody murder.
You gasp in panic not understanding what had happened again.
As you tried to rock him again he tried getting away from your arms and instead stretching his hand towards his dad as he continued balling his eyes out.
That confused you and Toji,
He has never chosen Toji before for comfort as long as you were there,
But Toji was a little too happy to care,
"Does my little boy wanna be with daddy??" He coos, stretching his arms out for you to hand the baby to him,
"I knew you always had a soft spot for me kiddo" he gushes as soon as he takes his baby boy in his arms.
But the happiness didn't seem to have lasted long, because as soon as Megumi gets close to his dad's face his little hands flung up to grip on the locks of his dad's hair.
"What's u-" He yelps when the baby boy starts to twist and turn his fists while he continues to babble something only another baby could make out and sob like he was the one in pain,
"Oh god- baby you shouldn't do that come here-"
You try pulling Megumi back in your arms, but he is willing to take Toji's head along because he just wasn't loosening his grip.
"Gumi ! mommy will cry if you don't pay attention to her !" You make a pouty face and put your hands on your hips while Toji was busy yelping and cursing not caring that the little boy could hear everything
But that immediately gets the baby's attention because he instantly turns his head around and starts crawling to you as his cries slowly starts dying down.
"Demon child !" Toji points as he runs his hands through the locks of his hair, rubbing at the area that his son almost got him bald at,
You lift the baby up in your arms as you look at Toji,
"and don't you curse again in front of our baby" you knit your brows before turning your attention to the two year old and wiping the tears away from his puffy cheeks.
"So I'm the bad guy here??" Toji questions, looking defeated.
You shrug and walk away with Megumi in your arms who had finally gotten quite.
Oh you and Toji had a lot of explaining to do to this little boy, but that wasn't a headache you both were willing to take for Monday morning.
Maybe later at night, when Megumi will seemingly be a bit less pissed at his dad.
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☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !
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wolfiesmoon · 11 months ago
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When you wear their clothes
genshin men x gn!reader
characters featured: xiao, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli and itto
i've been dreaming about genshin a lot lately idk this game has possesed me or smth so i feel like i'm required to write this? Also DAMN im rusty with genshin characters so i apologise profusely for any ooc-ness
(also wrio's is kinda suggestive!!)
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XIAO is confused. Why on earth are you wearing his clothes? He isn't opposed to it specifically, but doesn't understand the appeal or the reason why you do it. "My clothes don't fit you properly. What's the point?" he asks, completely straight faced. You smile. "It reminds me of you when you're not with me!" He just scoffs and says he doesn't get your strange habits before moving on with his day. Somehow though, the image of you in his clothes won't leave his mind for the rest of the day. "Dammit..." he mumbles under his breath, barely audible when nobody's around. Don't bring up his pink cheeks in the evening when he comes back to see you, he will not elaborate.
Similarly, NEUVILLETTE is also confused. This must be another human thing that he isn't familiar with. What does wearing their lover's clothes mean to humans? "Oh, I just missed you... your clothes remind me of you, you know?" You explained when he questioned you on the matter. "Oh, I suppose that makes sense. Do you want more items related to myself for when I am absent?" He asks. While you do want to know what items he would bring you, you turn him down. "I like your shirts the most, because they smell like you and feel like your hugs." He doesn't know why exactly, but he has the urge to kiss you all of a sudden.
WRIOTHESLEY feels distracted when he sees you in his clothes from time to time. He gets busy a lot, so the moments he gets to spend with you feel extra special. But, what is he to do when you look so positively yummy in his shirt? "Hey, mind taking my shirt off? It's... sort of distracting." he admits, taking a sip of his tea. "But, wouldn't it be even more distracting if I took it off now?" you asked, feigning an innocent look. He almost spit out his tea. "I did not mean it like that...! Surely you're just teasing me." You just smiled mischeviously in response, taking a sip out of your own cup. "That's what I thought. I know that look."
ZHONGLI thinks you look odd in his clothes. Odd, but not bad by any means. You actually look quite endearing. "I'll make sure to commit this to memory." he says calmly, sitting down next to you on the bed. "You say that every time you're with me." you poke his shoulder gently, smiling up at him. "That's because everything about you is worth remembering, I suppose." Still, he thinks this specific memory is one he will treasure for a long, long time. "Oh my..." you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, hugging his arm. Actually, he changed his mind, you're positively adorable in his clothes.
You're basically asking to get attacked with a flurry of kisses if you wear ITTO'S clothes in front of him. That's like, a show of affection! That you're totally his and no one else's! And that also means it's a cause for celebration! "Agh, Itto- Stop!" you try and fail to push his face away. "Hehehe..." he gives you a bright smile and places a big ol' kiss on your lips. "You should wear my clothes more often!!!" he felt proud of himself, puffing out his chest. "Ummm, whatever you say..." you're kind of worried that if you do that, your face will never escape his lips.
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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
-
part five
2K notes · View notes
clara-a7 · 2 months ago
Text
Pool Party | Nicholas Alexander Chavez
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Pairing: Nicholas Alexander Chavez x Reader
Requested? No~ (requests are open!)
Word Count: 1,4K
Warning: smut! 18+ *sexual content + unprotected sex!*
Disclaimer : Everything written here is FICTITIOUS. This story is written in second-person point of view and the reader is a female
A/N: im pretty sick so I hope it makes sense. !english isn't my first language!
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The sun was still high in the sky, casting a warm glow over Cooper’s pool party. Laughter and music filled the air, but you barely heard any of it. Your eyes were locked on Nicholas, standing by the pool’s edge, his broad, muscular body gleaming in the fading light. His torso, still wet from an earlier swim, made your breath hitch, a body that seemed chiseled to perfection, glistening under the soft pool lights.
Nicholas was famous, and everyone at the party knew it. He was the guy who had girls swooning over him without even trying. But tonight, his gaze kept drifting toward you, as though he couldn’t help himself. Each time your eyes met, something dark and inviting flashed in his expression, sending a rush of heat through your body.
Your heart raced, already imagining what it would be like to feel those strong hands on your skin. You had met him through Cooper, your best friend, but things had been building between you and Nicholas for a while now, by lingering looks, fleeting touches, and shared moments filled with tension that always left you wanting more.
"Watch your drooling," Cooper’s voice snapped you out of your daze. You blinked and turned to find him grinning at you, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I wasn’t!" you started, but Cooper’s knowing smirk stopped you. He sipped his drink, clearly enjoying your reaction.
"Sure you weren’t," he teased, nudging you playfully. "I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. He’s into you, and trust me, he’s been holding back."
You swallowed hard, your eyes drifting back to Nicholas. He had caught you staring again, and this time, there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes. It sent a wave of heat through you, a pulse of need settling deep in your core.
"You think I should go for it?" you asked, trying to sound casual, but the nerves and anticipation were unmistakable.
Cooper grinned. "You know what I think. Stop overthinking and just go after what you want."
Before you could second-guess yourself, Cooper gave you a nudge in Nicholas’s direction. With your heart pounding in your chest, you took a deep breath and began walking toward him, feeling the heat of his gaze on you the entire way.
As you approached, Nicholas pushed away from the lounger, his eyes dark and focused entirely on you. The small crowd around him faded into the background as you got closer, the air thick with tension.
"Hey," you managed, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way Nicholas’s lips curled into that slow, confident smile made it difficult to keep your composure.
"Hey," he replied, his voice deep, the sound of it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand reached out, gently brushing your arm as he pulled you closer. "I’ve been waiting for you."
The warmth of his body was intoxicating, his presence overwhelming as he drew nearer, his hand sliding along your waist. Your breath caught as his lips reached your ear, his voice low and teasing.
"I hope you enjoyed the view," he murmured, his voice husky with need, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
You could feel the heat radiating off his skin as he pressed closer making your heart race faster. Every inch of you was aware of him, his presence, his touch, his scent.
"I did," you whispered back, barely able to keep your voice steady.
Nicholas retreated just enough to look at you, his eyes burning intensely, his hand still possessively resting on your waist. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d do if I could get you alone,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
"Me too," you say it.
His eyes burning intensely, his hand still possessively resting on your waist. "I’m tired of waiting," he said, sending another shiver down your spine.
Before you could answer, Nicholas took your hand firmly, guiding you away from the busy crowd. His touch was urgent but controlled as he led you to the back of the villa, weaving between the revelers who laughed, unaware of the tension building between you two.
Your heart raced as he pulled you into a secluded hallway and then opened a door to one of the bathrooms. As the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted, the silence amplifying the heat between you. The outside world melted away, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit space.
Nicholas didn’t waste time. He pressed you against the cool tiled wall, his body hovering close as his lips crashed against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. His hands roamed over your sides, exploring your curves with an urgency that sent waves of heat pooling in your belly.
"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slipped beneath your bikini bottoms, fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending a shockwave of heat through you.
Nicholas’s touch was electric, his fingers tracing teasing lines down your thighs before pulling your bikini down in one swift motion. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated skin, but that feeling was quickly replaced by the warmth of his body pressing into yours. His lips were relentless, devouring yours with a need that matched the fire building inside you.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, your body instinctively responding to the intense chemistry between you, your heart racing as you felt the hard length of him pressed against you through his swim trunks.
"I need you," he growled, placing you on the bathroom vanity.
His hands roamed your body, rough and possessive, as he quickly freed himself from his trunks, tossing them aside.
Before you could catch your breath, Nicholas lined himself up and thrust into you, filling you completely in one powerful motion. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Nicholas didn’t hold back, his hips rocking into yours with an unrelenting rhythm. Each thrust was hard and deep, the intensity of it making your whole body tremble as pleasure flooded your senses. The world outside ceased to exist—all you could feel was him, the heat between your bodies, and the desperate need growing with every movement.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he drove into you. His words made your body tighten around him, pulling him deeper as you moaned his name, lost in the sheer pleasure of being with him like this.
"Nicholas... I’m so close," you managed to gasp, your body trembling as he drove you higher and higher, pushing you to the brink.
Hearing you, Nicholas growled, his pace quickening as he pounded into you with renewed intensity.
"Come for me," he whispered, his voice thick with command and lust.
His words sent you spiraling over the edge, your body clenching around him as the orgasm ripped through you, your head falling back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You cried out, gripping onto him as your whole body shuddered with the intensity of your release.
Nicholas wasn’t far behind. With one last deep thrust, his own release hit, his body tensing as he groaned your name, spilling into you as he rode out the final waves of his climax. His arms tightened around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high, your breathing still heavy, your bodies pressed together.
For a moment, the world was still. Just the two of you, tangled together in the small space, hearts racing, skin damp with sweat. Nicholas’s forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged but soft as he held you gently, the urgency of the moment fading into something softer, more intimate.
"That was..." you began, still breathless, but Nicholas silenced you with a slow, lingering kiss, his hands sliding up to cup your face.
"More than worth the wait," he finished, his voice soft now, full of satisfaction. He kissed you again, tender this time, his lips gentle against yours, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
In the quiet aftermath, you smiled back, the intensity between you lingering in the air, knowing that this moment had changed everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
!Pictures is not mine. Found on Tumblr and Pinterest. Full credit to the owner!
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mrfoox · 2 years ago
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i wish i trusted my own feelings more but here i am?
#me: i feel this way (: someone i like: um... are you sure? i think you feel more that way#me: oh shit... maybe i do? binch i gotta think this one through now..........#i dont think my answer will change but its uh... worth another look#oliver said a while ago he thinks i'm in love with fabian.. and immidetly i said very confidently apperantly that i dont#and now ive been thinking about it and im like....... ok but am i?#told oliver again and he was like 'what i thought you said you werent? you sounded very sure about it'#yeah i mean...... at one hand i am but also...... i think my brain can do a lot of shit to keep me away from things that will probably end#badly. and genuinly i do not think me and fabian would have any chanse even if somehow he would be into me too#i'd never feel good enough for him. so i may just have gone into the whole thought of#its never going to happen so you obviously just like him in a friendly way. the end. idk#as usual romantic feelings for me is a mess. i dont divide love in that way naturally. for me love is love. if i love you i love you#i'd do anything for you and anything you'd want with me i'd be down for unless we are very unlike character wise#i just can see myself liking almost#all my friends in a romantic way? i can imagine it from my pov but its theirs i cant#not something i actively think about tho its just.... something i have and i know?#maybe this actually isnt how i think but theres another explanation (like oliver said 'being afraid of others leaving so youre willing to do#anything they want to keep them aorund) but until i learn otherwise this is what i keep thinking.  i feel like a freak tho bc i dont think#anyone can really... understand it unless they feel soething similar ? or are super open or such. the friends ive told i think got a bit#scared. makes sense... but i cant make it sound better or more normal like yeah. everyone is safe from me romantically but also#almost everyone is welcome to hmu if they wanna try dating i guess. i speak big but i do have some exceptions#mainly bc of character meshing :'))#miranda talking shit
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propertyofwicked · 7 months ago
Text
WAS IT REAL? - LN
lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?
based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)
the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3
masterlist the playlist
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✧ tell me was it real...
...or was it just pretend? ✧
“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”
“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”
“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”
“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.
lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.
since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.
“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”
“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.
y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.
“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.
“that’s never good,” she joked.
“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”
“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.
“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”
“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.
“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.
“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”
“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.
“ok.”
“ok?”
“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”
✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...
....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧
the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.
so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.
“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.
and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.
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their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.
“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”
“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.
“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.
“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.
“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.
and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.
lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.
“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.
y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.
im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.
lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.
she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.
“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.
“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.
there was no camera. they were totally alone.
✧ colours of the sky in your eyes
...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧
lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.
y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.
which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.
and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.
the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.
“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”
lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.
“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.
“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”
“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.
“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”
“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.
“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.
the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.
“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.
“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”
“gross.”
“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.
“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.
he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?
y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.
so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.
lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.
“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.
“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”
“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.
“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.
“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.
“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word
y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.
the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.
or not.
lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.
he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.
“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.
“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.
“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“what does that mean?”
“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”
“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”
“well no but-”
“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.
he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.
but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.
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he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.
she was gone, and it was all his fault.
✧ i know that you're perfect for me
…tell me that you're sorry
…won't you please just take my heart again ✧
it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.
“you did what?” max shouted in shock.
“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.
“you’re stupid.”
“i know.”
“in what world was that ever going to end well?”
“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.
“im so stupid,” max replied.
“how are you the stupid one here?”
“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”
lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.
“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.
“but she’s doing ok, right?”
“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.
“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.
“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”
“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”
“i know, sorry.”
“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”
y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.
she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.
y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.
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-
y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.
“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.
“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.
she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.
“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.
“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.
“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”
oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.
“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”
“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.
lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?
“he-”
“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.
“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.
“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.
“she doesn’t want to see you.”
“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”
“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.
that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.
“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.
“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.
it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.
“hey zak,” he started.
“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.
“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.
“im good.”
“what are you doing today?”
“just going over some things with the team.”
“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”
“war-”
“where’s she staying?”
“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.
“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.
z → mission complete.
o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?
z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him
of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.
his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.
“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”
“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.
“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.
“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.
“oscar’s here.”
“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.
lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.
“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.
“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”
“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.
“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.
“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”
“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.
“so why are you here now?”
“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.
the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?
“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.
“feel,” she said bluntly.
“huh?”
“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”
“then why won’t you let me in?”
“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”
“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”
lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.
“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.
“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.
“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.
“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.
“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.
“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”
“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.
“there’s a lot to make up for.”
“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.
lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.
“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.
“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.
“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”
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stick2vamp · 3 months ago
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Urmmmmm Haiiii … You’re my favorite Seb writer , absolutely adore yr stuff !!! Was wondering if I could req Seb and a reader who like …. Gives him a bouquet of coral and plants they find around the facility ……. If that makes sense …… (;´д`)
𝜗 ˖ ❝ hm, for me? ᵕ ♡
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— in which you have a gift for sebastian. ✧
↷  766 wc 𓈒 sfw 𓈒 kind of implied sebastian has a soft spot for you ?
‿ A/N im glad to hear you like my stuff <3 gave up like halfway thru this i cannot lie
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The Blacksite seems barren.
The only recurring theme of life present appears to be the monstrous and mutated entities that roam the halls, but you are unsure if some of them are alive. Any simple organisms no longer exist down here. Perhaps the pressure was too much for them to withstand in the first place, or maybe they were all destroyed during the breach. You're unsure: they won't bother to tell you minute details like that.
Yet, you've found that your original assumption was wrong. Exploring the multiple levels and rooms has allowed you to see the tiny glimpses of life still thriving here. The occasional potted plant—albeit wilting fairly quickly—stands alive in tiny rooms tucked away from most entities' eyes. Little chunks of coral float within the underground areas, likely broken off from the main body by the bull shark outside the windows. Tiny aquatic grasses, easily trampled on as you weave yourself out of a Searchlight's bright gaze.
You've wandered through the Blacksite many times, over and over again, with nothing new to see besides these little plants. They are the only unpredictable sight. The lights flicker to warn you of an Angler—but there are no warning signs of a simple plant. Squiddles make a gradual screeching noise as a warning—but there are no warning signs of a little flower. Perhaps that is why they are so beautiful down here: because you expect a monster, not a simple pot of grass.
However, no other beings here seem to hold the same sentiments as you. Most of them are mindless and have their minds set entirely on consuming. The only intelligent ones you can name right now seem uninterested, too. The bull shark with thousands of eyes littered in and outside themself? It seems they cannot see the plant's beauty even with their many eyes. The red face that warns you as they rush through and destroy the halls? Well, with how they mangle things in their path, you're not entirely sure if they care that much for them. The Painter?
. . . Well, the Painter probably likes flowers. But they cannot exactly interact with them.
Water trickled down your hand and dripped on the floor. You cradled a small fragment of blue coral in your palm. It had a rougher texture due to the little dips and bumps on its surface. The coral felt like nothing yet heavy at the same time as it rested in your hand. Its muted blue color looked even duller the more you looked at it.
It almost looked greenish, too.
The color reminded you of SEBASTIAN.
You forgot about him and his opinion on flowers. He seemed more uncaring and disinterested in small things, so you figured he probably wouldn't care for them. Yet, you knew he was once human. There must be a chance he may enjoy them.
You hadn't realized you pocketed the coral until your suit's legs were well-drenched.
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Upon presenting the messy bouquet to Sebastian, he responded with a taunting voice, "Is this for me? You really shouldn't have." He carefully examined the bouquet under his esca, observing the colorful coral chunks and slightly wilted plants. He appreciated how the colors complimented him.
Sebastian quietly hummed as he inspected the gift further, using his claw with surprising gentleness to brush through and examine everything you'd collected. It was evident from his growing smirk and visible canines that he appreciated the gesture if only a bit. "Why, thank you, friend," he said, before placing the bouquet on his desk.
With a taunting tone, he mused, "Don't tell me you went out of your way to get this just for me, now." Sebastian paused and directed his gaze back to you. "You know, I'm sure I could bargain a good price for this with the other Expendables."
You couldn't tell if he was serious, at least not until you looked at how his tail swayed like a happy dog's. Or how his ears twitched when your smile grew. Or how his voice softened ever so slightly as you eventually left.
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Unsurprisingly, the bouquet was still there on your next visit, neatly placed in the best glass Sebastian could find. It rested nearby him, neatly positioned to make it look fuller and beautiful. Of course, he wouldn't sell it. For as much as he teased you, he could not deny the fondness he felt when he looked at it.
Perhaps one day, you'd take the bouquet place and be right next to him yourself.
He cursed himself as his ears and tail twitched at the thought.
☆⠀⠀⠀ᛝ⠀⠀want to support my stuff? my kofi is here !⠀♡
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luveline · 1 year ago
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heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.
but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!
love your writing and page, <3
ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader
Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress. 
It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts. 
"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby. 
"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch. 
"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?" 
"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that." 
Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you. 
"Too much?" you ask cautiously. 
"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?" 
"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler." 
"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines. 
Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…" 
Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them. 
His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly. 
You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice." 
"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms." 
Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side. 
"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?" 
A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine." 
"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear." 
Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble. 
"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask. 
"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says. 
Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.
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