#it's a long shot tbh but PLEASE

[scarlet-streak-rambles]

I so desperately want to find people to do RPs for Matchablossom or Eraserdust and every time I find someone they end up ghosting me. How do I clone myself so I can RP with myself but it's not just me writing fanfiction by myself it's the very specific experience of RP? I don't even know how to explain why there's a difference but there definitely is. T-T

[sskk-manifesto]

Next time we should just skip over ep 3 and do a chapters 84-87 reread

[the-kipsabian]

.

[makismei]

❝ YOU A SUPERMAN? OR… A MINUTE MAN?

♡ fem!reader x various

featuring…. gojo satoru, nanami kento & fushiguro toji

cw: 18+, minors dni, squirting, overstim, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, anal play (nanami)

synopsis: who’s pounding till the sun rises and who’s clocking out after one round?!

notes from mei! tbh the title doesn’t really make sense… i listened to mcnasty(?) by jay park when it came out a while back and that lyric really resounded in my soul

GOJO ♡ a quick shot. but his dick stays hard. pretty superman-esque if you ask me.

“you idiot—fuuuck, stop moving your hips!” the sound of both of your cum sloshing together rings in your ears. you’re pushing at his tummy, quivering legs haphazardly thrown over his shoulders and tears bubbling in your lash line.

it feels so full inside of you. you’ve both been going at it for god knows how long; his release smeared on your lower tummy and inner thighs.

satoru moves your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he starts to press weight into each thrust.

“ahh, mmaahhh!” head shaking back and forth on the pillow, “‘m gonna cum! i can’t—satoru, m’ gonna die!”

he’s practically whining, ignoring your pleas with sweat beading down his temple as he plows you relentlessly. “baby, i can’t hold out.”

his head’s thrown back, feeling his dick twitch whenever he kisses your cervix just right, eyes rolling back into his skull.

“y’feel so good baby, why do you feel so good?” he pants, not realizing he’s filling you up with hot ropes of cum. he’s still thrusting and you swear if he keeps this up your bottom half is going to be numb.

still absolutely rock hard inside of you, he turns you on your side, one leg still on his shoulder while he grinds against that one spot that renders you speechless.

“let me have one more, baby.” he whines, legs shaking, “‘m still so hard f’you.”

NANAMI ♡ depends. he’s good at holding himself off, but he also enjoys stuffing you with multiple loads of his cum.

he’s groaning, eyes lidded as he watches you align his cock with your leaky slit. globs of his cum seep from your pussy, soiling his faintly coloured pubic hairs. someway, somehow, you managed to flip your previous positions and he’s the one laying on the mattress instead of you.

“my love,” he breathes, his large hand; callused from his work but still so gentle, caresses your hip, “i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s as if you’re in a rush, scrambling like he’s going to disappear.

you whine, legs quivering when his tip swipes against your entrance. “please, nami, i want you to cum again… it feels s’good.”

he smiles, his other hand reaching out to hold your face, thumb gently stroking against your cheek. “so needy today… have i been neglecting you?”

leaning down, you bury your face into his neck, grinding your soaked pussy onto his hardening cock. you hum shyly, distracting yourself by leaving wet kisses on his neck and shoulder.

he hums, your shyness making him all smug and sappy. “so that’s what it is, huh?”

you feel him harden, before he’s lifting you and dropping you down on his cock. you tense, squealing into his shoulder. languidly, he’s making you fuck down onto him, his own hips jolting up to meet you halfway.

sneakily, a hand makes it’s way down to your ass. he swats playfully before gathering slick at the point where you’re both connected. surprised, your eyes widen when you feel his finger start playing with your rim. it’s gentle, soft massaging as he’s jackhammering into you.

with your legs shaking, he doesn’t bother trying to move your hips, simply doing the work for you.

you’re gushing, liquid drooling from your pusey before you force yourself off of him, practically screaming as you squirt all over his lap. nanami groans, pulling you back down onto him to chase his release.

“oh my god—oh, fuuucckk!!” nails digging into his skin, your eyes roll back from the onslaught of pleasure. “‘s shoo gooood!”

he chuckles in your ear, but it gets cut off with a moan, flooding your cunt with his seed. kissing your tear-soaked cheeks, he smiles against your skin. “still feeling neglected, baby?”

TOJI ♡ one round and he’s hooonkkk mimimi… but he’s fucks nawwstyyy. like. he fucks you so good one round has you nearly passed out and quivering—drool and tears all over the pillow and your squirt leaving a niceee puddle right underneath you.

“that’s right, doll.” he whistles lowly, watching your legs tense, knees lifting themselves off the bed as he continues to bury his fingers into your cunt, his pupils practically dilating as he continuously prods against your sweet spot.

it’s wet and sticky between your legs, pussy glistening under the cheap glow of your bedside night light.

you’re damn near in a downward dog, face smushed into the mattress as your squirt soaks the bed. toji doesn’t let up, toying with your clit as he grins, cock twitching in his boxers.

when you slump face first into the bed, you’re practically drooling as you know what’s coming next. sturdy, thickset fingers knead the globes of your ass, before you feel his heavy cock sneaking it���s way into your slit.

“look at you,” he jeers, leaky tip pressing into your cunt. “being such a sweetheart after i made you squirt a few times.”

he buries himself to the hilt and you think you’re going cross-eyed. “yeah,” he croons, hips finding rhythm and bouncing on the fat of your ass, “you just wanna cum, ain’t that right?”

“yeesshh!” you cry. this position allows him too much control. you’re flat on your stomach, barely holding yourself up from your elbows. toji bares his weight on you, practically humping you and you know, he’s about to cum.

his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly, scarred lips leaving wet kisses on your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum, baby,” he breathes, “you’ll take it, won’t’cha?”

you nod, eyes teary, “mmhm!”

you feel his lips against your skin, grinning. “cum with me baby, c’mon. you got it.”

as if his words have magic, he thrusts a couple more times before he feels you squeeze, and he’s a goner. groaning, he has a feeling you’re squirting again while he’s shooting rope after rope inside of you. he’s dizzy, practically blacking out after he pulls out, wiping you down with his shirt that he’s mistaken for a towel.

he slumps beside you, with his eyes closed, he slings a hefty arm over your waist. you adjust as he pulls you closer, lips brushing against your scapula.

he’s snoring before you know it.

panel is from i’ve become the target of his affection ^.^

[fantasmadelaciudad]

my body is an orphanage btw. we take everyone in.

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

��If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[pagesofkenna]

Spenser is such a breath of fresh air on Candela Obscura, I'm go glad he got to GM this season. I don't have as much time to watch actual plays as I would like so this past year has been just Critical Role and Dimension 20 and while there are a variety of GMs these shows rotate through Spenser's the first actually fully new-to-me GM I've seen in a while. and I'm really enjoying how he's running these games

[rafecameronssl4t]

I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)

Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.

Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,425

A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.

A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.

Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.

~

Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.

Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"

"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.

~

As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.

Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.

As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.

You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.

Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.

"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.

“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.

"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."

"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.

"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."

The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.

"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.

"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.

"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."

"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.

In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.

"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.

"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.

"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.

"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.

[seraphicsentences]

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

~

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

[lechrts]

hi cutie, i wanted to request a little something that i imagined the other day,, it was college sweethearts oscar x femreader, where reader is entering one of her classes, and oscar sneaks into it, sits next to her, and makes her laugh with little sarcastic comments or making fun of the professor, basically trying not to break and laugh... the thing is that they're in entire different degrees..

please and thank you sweetie<3

Ugotme. ✷ Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: When he sneaks into your lecture just because of a little hallway crush.

Word Count: 1.8k

Dislacimer/s: just fluff tbh ^_^ && university!au

Vera’s Voice! hope i did this one justice!!!! thank u for the submission request ^_^ ENJOOOYYYT

The crowded university hallway was alive with chatter, the faint hum of conversations blending with the soft squeak of sneakers against polished floors.

You were balancing a cup of coffee in one hand and clutching your bag strap with the other, navigating through the maze of students heading to their respective classes.

Your journalism lecture wasn’t until later, but you were on your way to your slow pace literature seminar, a welcome break from the heavy load of articles and essays you’d been swamped with lately.

And, it was in this busy hallway that he saw you again.

He stood casually beside the wall, patiently waiting for his own lecture to open, though his focus was nowhere near the room he was supposed to be in.

His attention was entirely on you.

He’d noticed you a couple of weeks ago, walking through the same corridor around this time. He didn’t know your name, your major, or why he kept seeing you near the this department, though he was pretty sure this was your turf—but he didn’t care.

Today, something clicked. Maybe it was the way you giggled at something you saw posted on the bulletin or the way you glanced down at the cup in your hand with the faintest smile, but he decided he wasn’t going to let another day go by without talking to you.

When you turned into the nearby lecture hall, he hesitated. His logical brain—honed by hours of problem-solving in engineering—told him to stay in his lane.

But the other part of him, the part that thought you looked far too intriguing to ignore, decided otherwise.

Before he could second-guess himself, he slipped into the same lecture hall, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you.

You had chosen a seat near the middle, pulling out your notebook and laptop with practiced ease. The room was half-full, with students murmuring quietly as they waited for the professor to arrive.

You didn’t notice when he walked in, but you definitely noticed when he sat down beside you.

It wasn’t subtle in the slightest. He dropped his bag with a soft thud and slid into the seat, turning to you with an easy, self-assured smile.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” The boy asked, his Australian accent immediately catching your attention.

You glanced up, startled by the unexpected company before shooting a faint smile. “Uh, no. Go ahead.”

He grinned, and for a moment, you wondered if you knew him from somewhere. His face was familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You didn’t dwell on it, turning your focus back to your laptop.

The professor walked in moments later, launching straight into the lecture with a droning voice that could’ve lulled an insomniac to sleep. It wasn’t long before he leaned toward you again, his voice low and teasing.

“Does he always talk like this?”

You glanced at him, biting back a smile. “Like what?”

“Like they’re narrating an audiobook for a bedtime story no one asked for?”

A giggle slipped out before you could stop it. “It’s a literature class. What did you expect?”

“Literature, obviously. But with a little more... enthusiasm?” He raised his brows for emphasis.

“Well, good thing it’s not his job to entertain you,” You shot back, still smiling.

“Maybe not,” He conceded, “But you’d think they’d try to keep people awake.”

You bit your lip to hide another giggle, but he caught the glimmer of amusement in your eyes and leaned back, satisfied.

As the professor rambled on about symbolism, Oscar tapped his pen lightly against the desk and whispered, “Do you think he rehearses this? Like, in front of a cemetery, maybe?”

This time, you didn’t even try to stifle your laugh. You turned to him, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m serious,” He replied with a smile and shrug. “Someone had to say it.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Are you even in this class?”

He feigned a gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ouch. That’s harsh.”

“Seems like you wandered in by accident,” You said, narrowing your eyes but unable to hide your amusement.

“Wandered in?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “I’ll have you know I’m here on purpose. Expanding my horizons. Growing as a person.”

“And skipping your actual class, I assume?” You guessed.

“Minor detail,” He said, grinning. “Besides, this seemed way more interesting.”

You raised an eyebrow. “The class, or sitting next to me?”

His grin widened. “I think the answer is obvious…”

You let out another laugh, shaking your head at his boldness. “Wow. Smooth.”

“Is it working?” He asked, his voice light but with just enough intrigue to make your cheeks warm.

“Maybe,” You said, tilting your head as if considering. “Depends. Are you planning on staying the whole time?”

“For you?” He leaned back with a lazy smile. “Absolutely.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face.

The professor’s monotone voice droned on in the background, but you barely noticed. Instead, you spent the rest of the lecture exchanging whispered comments with him—his commentary growing increasingly ridiculous.

By the time class ended, your notebook was only half-filled with notes, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. As you packed up your things, he lingered beside you, clearly in no rush to leave.

The warmth in his gaze made your stomach flutter, and for a moment, you were caught off guard by how sincere he sounded.

“Well,” You said, trying to regain your composure, “You should be careful or else I might start expecting you in all my classes.”

“Would that be so bad?” He asked, his tone playful but his eyes holding yours.

“Guess we’ll find out,” You said with a smile.

“By the way,” He said, his tone softening slightly, “Oscar.”

You stopped, turning to face him fully. “Oscar who likes to ditch his classes for random girls?” Quirking a brow.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oscar who’s hoping you’ll tell him your name.”

You paused, debating whether to play along. But the way he looked at you—equal parts charming and genuine—made you cave and introduce yourself.

“And maybe … Oscar who was hoping he’d get your number…” He grinned as you laughed.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Well, enduring one of my most boring classes just to talk to me… I guess…” You trailed off teasingly, grabbing his phone and punching in your number.

When you handed it back, his grin turned boyish, his confidence softening into something a little shyer. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll only use it to bother you during your lectures.”

“Good,” You said, already walking away, throwing him a glance over your shoulder. “I could use the entertainment… or you can just crash another one of my classes.” You suggested with a small laugh.

“Let me know. And I’ll be there.” He grinned down at you.

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ lmk if u wanna be apart of my perm tags list too!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she shows you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

[reidmoony-toast]

could you maybe do like a one shot of Spencer x Supermodel!fem reader? Like she does runways for super popular brands like Versace and Victoria’s Secret?

Radiant. ౨ৎ

Spencer reid x fem supermodel!reader

content: established relationship, no use of y/n, spencer being down bad tbh, fluff

cw: Victoria's Secret show, so underwear yk (but no sexualising or anything)

wc: 2.3k

an: This is so exciting, hi first anon req!! I love you so much! Anyways this idea is amazing and I hope this is what you envisioned <3 This isn't my best work, but I tried 😭 Also I based the outfit off Karolina Kurkova's in a 2003 show, but its set in early season 7 soo forget that!

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

“Is that her?” Penelope whispers for the hundredth time.

“No.” He huffs, tired of answering the same question for the past ten minutes.

“Patience, babygirl.” Derek chuckles from Spencer's other side. “He'll tell us when she's here. Maybe not with his words, but definitely with his eyes.” Derek flutters his lashes in Spencer's direction, clearly making fun of him.

“Both of you leave me alone, please?” He pleads, sick of their antics. They haven't stopped talking, and it's putting him on edge. He wants to appreciate today. Appreciate you. 

You had been desperately hoping to get this job with Victoria's Secret for months, and you were ecstatic when news of your hire reached you through your manager. You'd been raving excitedly about it ever since, and had begged him to finally come to a show.

He obliged, of course. Partly, because he can't say no to you, and mostly because he has been eager to see you in your element ever since you two had started dating.

Now, he is buzzing in anticipation, which is definitely not helped by Morgan and Garcia's constant remarks.

It wouldn't have been his personal preference to invite them, but you'd insisted, saying it was about time you met Spencer's friends, anyways. 

The show continues, scantily clad girls strutting down the catwalk, angel wings attached to their backs and sequins blinding, but still, you were nowhere to be seen. Spencer fidgets, waiting with baited breath. 

A figure emerges from the side of the stage, turning to strut down the walkway. He freezes, shooting up in his chair from where he was previously slumped. It was you. Undeniably. He could pick you in a sea of people from a mile off, if it came to it. 

His breath hitches. He takes you in. 

There you stand, in all of your glory. He can't quite believe what he’s seeing. Sure, you're self-assured in your everyday life, but this is on a whole new level.

You radiate confidence, striding down the catwalk like you own it. Spencer is utterly captivated by this different side of you that he has never seen in person before.

Sure, he's seen endless pictures—and even some videos—of your modelling, as well as the shows that take place in the comfort of your home; when you put on outfits and strut down the long hallway of your apartment, to loud enthusiasm from Spencer.

These particular one-on-one shows usually end in you dressing in progressively more atrocious outfits, until you’re both prone from uncontrollable laughter.

But this. This was real. It all hits him then—that you are a supermodel, that you do this for a living. That this is your life. 

His chest swells with immense pride at all you have accomplished. You've worked so hard, built your career from the ground up, and it has paid off. Your dreams have finally come true, and now, you're modelling in a Victoria's Secret show, which he is told (by you, of course) is world-renowned. 

“That's her.” Derek concludes smugly, no uncertainty in his tone. Spencer shushes him loudly, eyes fixed solely on you.

You don't falter for a single step as you glide down the stage. You're clad in a sparkly silver bra that glints off the bright lights, sequined mesh sitting below the bra's edge. 

A small pair of matching silver underwear sit below your hips, a glittering garter to match. And, of course, the wings. They protrude from your back, spanning above your head, magnificent and ethereal. Spencer thinks you ought to have a halo to match. 

The feathered angel wings trail down your back, sweeping across the floor behind you as you make your way to the end of the catwalk. 

Garcia and Morgan are saying something across him—most likely about you—but he pays them no mind, not caring for anything else but you, in front of him.

As you near the end of the perilously long stage, Spencer's smile only grows, until he is beaming uncontrollably when you slow to strike your pose. 

Spencer and his company have VIP tickets, courtesy of you, so he has an unobstructed view of you, directly in front of where he is sitting. 

Your hands rest on your hips as you lock eyes with the sea of cameras frantically snapping pictures. 

You look fierce, fiery, and Spencer somehow grins harder. 

As your eyes scan the room, they easily lock on Spencer's, not even ten feet away. His eyes are wide, smile larger than life. 

His lips move, mouthing words to you that you instantly understand, and you light up, a warm glow from within. 

‘I love you’

The luminous smile remains, even when you remember your surroundings. You pose again, grinning all the while and the crowd claps while shutters click incessantly. You pivot, sashaying off, but not before looking back over your shoulder to blow a cheeky kiss in Spencer's direction, winking.

It might just be Spencer's perception, but you seem to shimmer with incandescent light, like your very soul was set aflame with a soft fire. You are radiantly gorgeous—utterly perfect in the eyes of Spencer Reid.

The wink you sent over your shoulder makes him duck his head, face and ears bright red. He is the luckiest man in the world. To have you, all to himself. 

He is still grinning, even as you disappear around the corner. Maybe he is biassed (most certainly), but you were by far the most captivating model up there. Your every move seemed effortless—practised and perfected. 

You drew the attention of everyone, and you kept it. It felt as if the whole room had held its breath as you passed, too busy watching to remember how to breathe. 

Maybe that was just his singular experience. He wouldn't know, and he doesn't particularly care. 

As the show wraps up, Garcia and Morgan are raving—about you. 

“Spencer, I can't believe she is your girlfriend! She is absolutely stunning!” Penny gushes.

The first statement hurts him a little, like everyone thinks he can't possibly be dating a pretty model—but it's definitely true. The second statement, however, is the truest thing he's ever heard in his 29 years of life. 

Spencer chooses not to respond to Penelope, instead heading for the exit. They follow, and Morgan claps him on the back. “You're one lucky man, pretty boy.” He whistles suggestively, and Spencer brushes off his hand, mumbling something under his breath as he is suddenly interested in the craftsmanship of the venue floor. 

He found this hard. Blending his work and home life, introducing you to his family. It's not that he's worried they won't like you—that’s impossible, when it comes to you—it's more that he has trouble combining the two sides of his life in his head, given the fact that he is almost two different people in each. 

He doesn't bring his work home, and he doesn't bring his home to work—mostly. He does, sometimes (too often), ramble on about you and how downright amazing you are. He's only human, after all. 

Mostly, he's scared that it will be a mistake, that the two sides will end up being better off separate, that mixing the two now will have irreparable consequences. 

But, you wanted to, so he’s taking the plunge. For you. Always for you. 

~☆~

Spencer feels like he shouldn't be here. They're in the very depths of the building; models, designers and beauticians alike flit past them, paying them no mind as they go about their business.

He glances over his shoulder at the ajar door that leads to the dressing rooms every couple of seconds, in case you come through and save him from this place—which is the polar opposite to everything that makes him comfortable.

He's here for you, though, and he would endure this for you. Only for you. 

Morgan and Penelope stand a few feet away, at ease and chatting like this is the most normal situation in the world, like they've been backstage at thousands of Victoria's Secret shows.

Just as he's about to go into a nervous breakdown, he sees a flash of movement appear from behind the door. 

“Spence!” A shriek sounds as he turns to see you, bounding towards him. You throw your arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek.

His hands come up to steady you, curling under the hem of your sweater. He feels instantly less overwhelmed, breathing you in like you're the oxygen he needs to live—like he can’t breathe properly when you’re not near.

You're draped in an oversized knit and comfortable track pants that engulf your frame. The irony wasn't lost on him—you were wearing nothing but showy undergarments not even half an hour ago. 

He loves that about you. That you aren't entirely defined by your job, that you have a part of your life and sense of self cordoned off; a part that isn't affected by the insane world of modelling. He loves that you can be yourself in so many different ways, that you have all these different facets. Just like a diamond, whose sides are all different, but every single one shines just as brightly all the same.

It inspires him to do the same for himself, to have a true self outside of his chaotic job that takes over most of his life. You’ve helped him see that life can be varied, diverse; that there are so many different things—other than one's job—that can make you feel fulfilled. Content. Happy. 

He's happy; truely and vibrantly happy with you. And that is the way he wishes it to stay. 

He chuckles amusedly at your strong display of affection. “Hello to you too, lovely.” 

You pull back to grin at him, albeit a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I'm just so happy you're actually here.” 

His gaze softens impossibly more. “It was long overdue.” He cups your cheeks and leans down to press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “You were phenomenal.” 

You beam, and draw him closer.

The clearing of a throat brings you out of your reverie, out of the world where there is only the two of you. 

You pull away, detaching yourself from Spencer, eyes flashing with delight. “Hi!” You wave at a shocked-yet-amused Derek Morgan, and an exuberant Penelope Garcia. 

Derek raises his eyebrow at Spencer, probably surprised by how little he cared about your public display of affection. He usually doesn’t even let Garcia hug him unless it’s important. But, like with everything else, you’re different—special. He simply shrugs back. 

“You must be the friends Spence has told me so much about.” She reaches out a hand to shake Morgan's hand. “Derek, right?” 

Derek smirks, “In the flesh.” He grasps your hand, grip firm. “The show was amazing, by the way.” 

“Thank you!” You chirp, brightening further, and Morgan huffs out a laugh.

You pull away, turning to the eclectic women next to him. “And you, must be the famous Penelope.” 

You reach out your hand once more, but Garcia has other ideas. She dives in for a hug, bypassing the formalities immediately.

She pulls away abruptly as you squeak in surprise. “Oh- sorry! I'm sorry.” She blurts out. “I'm just so happy to meet you, finally! Reid has told us so much about you, I just couldn't wait any longer!” She grins broadly. “And you're even prettier than he described, which I don't understand how that's humanly possible, because boy genius over there won't stop talking about how gorgeous you-”

“Woah there, baby girl, slow your roll.” Derek interrupts, patting Garcia gently on the shoulder. You stifle a laugh, glancing at Spencer. He ducks his head, avoiding your eye and shuffling from one foot to another as his face turns pink.

“Sorry!” Penelope flushes scarlet red. “Uhm… what I meant was ‘nice to meet you’.” She cringes at her outburst. 

“No need to say sorry. It's an absolute pleasure to meet the both of you, Spence speaks so highly of you two.” You beam, and Garcia deflates in relief. Spencer’s arm snakes around your waist and under the hem of your sweater once again, smoothing patterns on your bare skin. You lean into his side, a contented sigh escaping your lips. 

“You know, when boy genius here told me he was dating a supermodel, I didn't believe him.” He raises eyebrows, smirking. “But, here you are.” 

“In the flesh.” You flash him a grin, parroting back his own words. He lets out a chuckle. 

“Why is it so unbelievable?” Spencer complains incredulously.

They all laugh at his words, and he hangs his head, sighing dejectedly. You pat him on the chest in consolation.

All of Spencer’s fears are quickly doused as a lively conversation starts up between you and his friends. He doesn’t know why he worried, like if they met everyone would self-combust. No, this was going fine. More than fine, even. 

His breathing slows, sure and steady, and he just watches. Watches you speak animatedly, with a delighted glint in your eye, clearly enjoying Penelope and Derek’s presence. And his friends, his family, seemed to be enjoying her just as much, which he obviously isn’t surprised about, but still fills him with relief. It was okay. It was all going to be perfectly okay.

“How does some dinner sound?” You ask the group, just as Spencer tunes back in.

Penelope claps her hands together, “Yes! I have the perfect place.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Derek replies. “If lover boy is coming, of course. I can't wait to tell lover girl, here, all the embarrassing stories at his expense.” 

Spencer groans, but follows Garcia as she heads towards the door. You just laugh. 

Spencer pinches your side from where you're still tucked under his arm and you yelp. This time, he's the one letting out a quiet chuckle, and you roll your eyes. 

“Come on genius, lead the way.” You look up expectedly from under his arm.

“Anything for you.” He simply replies, wrapping himself around you tighter, before guiding the both of you towards the door.

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appriciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[sheoh]

Who in Ateez Is Most Gentle In Bed? 

Gentle  

San

Yeosang 

Jongho 

Seonghwa 

Mingi 

Hongjoong 

Yunho 

Wooyoung 

Rough

I truly believe San would be the most gentle lover. He would never want to hurt you EVER. especially during sex. I feel like even if you asked him to be a little rough with you he’d be VERY hesitant, or at least a little awkward as he attempted to regulate exactly how much strength you could take. you'd have to really communicate with him about it because he knows his strength could possibly really hurt you. Sometimes when you are making out he’d be a little forward or rough (the kind to push you up against the wall but protect your head and neck the entire time) he’d always take extra care to not inflict any pain on you. When kissing, San likes to put his hand over your throat, but he never implements a significant amount of strength. It kinda sits there teasing you, leaving you wanting more. he would find it cute if you did it to him but a little rougher (to show him how you actually wanted it) and ultimately wouldn't go through with it tbh lol. he likes the idea of exerting power over you but is extremely gentle in his way of doing it. When you're riding him and he’s close to cumming, he’d debate losing control, flipping you right on your back and fucking you hard and fast just to please himself (which he might just do if the atmosphere is right) but he always puts your pleasure and comfort over his own. if he notices that you're enjoying yourself, he will likely just squeeze your ass, praise you for doing so well between open-mouthed moans and roll his eyes back while you milk his cock slow and steady. 

Yeosang is naturally a very gentle person. I feel like that wouldn’t change much even with his partner. He’d acknowledge that sex doesn’t always have to be slow and gentle and take into consideration your wants as his partner. when you reach a certain point in the relationship he'd almost expect to start fucking baselessly for pleasure rather than to have a deeper connection—ofc he would never directly bring this up, and if it didn't happen he would think he was doing something wrong. He’d find himself slowly being more rough with you to see the reaction it draws out. Things like pushing your hips all the way down while you’re riding him and holding them there for a few seconds too long. Unlike San, who has sex in an intimate, gentle, and loving way most of the time, Yeosang feels that pleasurable sex is both gentle and rough and desires both sides. Whatever you’re comfortable with, so is he—but it’ll take some time for him to open up sexually and be rough with you for the sake of his own needs. His “rough side” is pretty low-key. He isn’t too freaky but I can see him being into things that exert his strength and masculinity. Like lifting you up and down on his cock while standing or you on your knees in front of him, in pretty lingerie giving him head. I can definitely see him grabbing your hair and guiding your head back and forth on his dick. 

Jongho is very aware of how strong he is and what he can do to you. He’s not necessarily overly rough or overly gentle with you. But he’s definitely not afraid to play fight with you and show you who's the stronger one. I believe Jongho is just a gentle person in general. His strength is very fixed so whether he’s angered or reaching his climax inside you, it’s rare for him to “lose control” or be rough on accident. I don’t think he likes hurting you in any way during sex, he might even be opposed to it. He would consider it if you asked him but as far as feeling pleasure from it-- isn’t necessarily his thing. If you got off on it, he’d be more into the fact that you are. Wrapping his hand around your throat during your high, and forcefully holding your hands behind your back as he gave you back shots are things he’d try but I just think he likes the idea of gentle loving sex more. The reason he’s under Yeosang, despite not really being into it as much, is because he could seriously fuck you senseless if he wanted. He has the control to give you exactly what you want, and well.

Just like San, Seonghwa is very gentle towards his lover. But unlike San, he’s down and very open to the freaky stuff. If you want to do it, so does he. I don’t see him ever being purposely rough with you unless you directly asked him and he knew you’d return the same energy. Even when he’s at his climax about to cum, a whimpering mess on top of you, he’d find himself holding back a bit. Putting in the effort to pleasure you without expecting you to do it in return. gripping the sheets instead of your hair as you suck him off (unless ofc you wanted him to). I can see him holding back your hair while you give him head, staring down so intently at your lips as they wrapped around his cock. The type to touch your body like it was made of glass, but fuck and eat you out like you are anything but. Seonghwa is a very gentle person too but he likes being able to be rough with you and try new things sexually. 

Mingi is kind of laid back when it comes to the physical and sexual side of a relationship. Things like caressing your thigh, kissing your neck, or just touching you all the time is his love language and aren’t always meant to be sexual. Which is why it’s sometimes hard to tell when he’s horny or just harmlessly flirting. Those kisses and touches come naturally during sex with him because it is nothing new. But of course, when he’s more aroused he tends to be unconsciously rougher—kissing you passionately instead of lazily, tightening his grip on your waist harder and harder as you grind on his erection—and being overly gentle with you after he realizes what he was doing. Mingi is seriously a gentle giant but when he’s comfortable enough, being playful or in the moment, he can sometimes forget how much strength he has and how easily he can break you. I don't think he likes being rough but it does happen whether he intends or not. I can't see him going as far as to choke you or use sex toys. rather something low-key like biting you or completely slam-dunking you onto the bed in attempts to impress you. He doesn't like you being overly rough with him either. like hair pulling or scratching his back so hard you leave marks because he is a princess after all.

Hongjoong isn't exactly rough or gentle–somewhere in between. He does like exerting dominance during sex though, which may lead to him being more bossy or rough. but naturally, he’s pretty sensual and wants you both to be relaxed and comfortable. When experimenting sexually with him, which happens quite often, he tends to talk you through it and ask how he's doing. If you want it rougher he’ll go rougher, but if it's too much for you he’ll stop immediately, ask if you’re ok, and take a mental note. Communication is key with him, you have to tell him what you want and he'll do whatever pleases you. I don't think Hongjoong particularly likes or even considers receiving/giving pain during sex, but he is sometimes (accidentally) a little rough. When he pushes your legs open a little too harshly to go down on you or is about to cum and begins franticly pounding into you from his once steady pace. he is a bit confused as to why you wanted him to do it more, but he actually lowkey likes it. he finds himself liking the feeling of you doing exactly what he says. sitting down and opening your mouth for his cock exactly when he tells you. Again, this dominance can lead to him being rougher with you but it's not on purpose...i don't think

Yunho has a lot of layers in a relationship. His more sensual side is particularly special because it’s something you rarely see. I don’t think Yunho is overly gentle but I do think he's aware of his size and strength enough to never accidentally use it during an intimate time like sex. In moments when he thinks you’d like it a bit rougher, he’d play along. I think he might even enjoy being rough with you and the power he has doing it. Using his body to pin you down on the bed, using his strength to stop you from getting off his lap bc he wants you to stay longer, using his significantly larger hands to pin them above your head as he kisses you. Yunho is possessive and takes that out on you in bed especially. Yunho sees sex as mainly something to fulfill pleasure, so jealous sex, sex after being away from each other for a while, and sex after a fancy dinner date when you're all dressed up–are things that really get him going and more rough and needy for you. When you tell him to go rougher he’d do it without hesitation. Tell him to choke you and he’d flash a smirk down at you before wrapping his large hands over your throat and squeezing. He’d continue to be rough with you unless you say otherwise but he knows your limits and is very careful not to go too far. 

Last but not least our sadist Wooyoung. He’s not gentle in bed. He loves when you’re rough with him and acts rough with you in return. He loves fucking you so hard and fast from the back and slapping your ass as you moan out his name. He likes when you yell and whine to him about something stupid he did just so he can apologize by giving you the sloppiest head of your life. Pull his hair, tell him to wrap his hands around your throat and he’ll get off on watching you and seeing just how much you can take before you "admit defeat". for toys and kinky objects I can see him wanting to try them if you like or dislike them. The only time I see him being gentle in particular is when eating you out, he would be gentle and sensual, trying to tease you and make you beg him to go faster and harder—ofc he he won’t do it. but this doesn’t always happen, he’ll often moan into sloppy wet kisses on your cunt, move his fingers quickly in and out of you, grip your thighs so hard to keep you still it leaves marks. He’d sometimes kiss you gently and slowly when the kiss isn’t really leading to anything. If you got him a gift for his birthday, he’d thank you with the sweetest, slowest, most gentle kiss. You feel so much when he kisses you like this because it doesn’t happen often.

[themultifanshipper]

Hi! I love your fics sm

Please don't feel obliged if this makes you uncomfortable, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing something where reader has vaginismus and the driver is so sweet about it :3

For Max or Oscar (but I don't really mind any of them tbh)

Max was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He was incredibly patient and understanding. Frustratingly so. 

Warnings: smut, talk about vaginismus, oral, fingering, improper medical procedures 

Disclaimer: people with vaginismus have different experiences with the condition, this fic is vaguely based on a friend of mine's experience, do NOT do what is described in this fic, if you are seeking treatment then talk to a doctor because this is NOT the proper treatment method IT IS FICTION… that being said, enjoy the filth. 

You'd been scared to tell Max about your condition at first. 

All your other relationships had fizzled out because the guys were either too impatient or annoyed, or disgusted with you. 

Which is why you expected Max to be the same. But you couldn't have been more wrong. 

You sat him down one day, texting him beforehand to warn him that you had something serious to talk to him about. 

He tapped his fingers on the table while you made some coffee. 

Once the steaming mugs were in front of you, you just came out with it. 

“I have a condition, called Vaginismus” 

Max just blinked, which made you smile at his clueless face. 

“Do you know what that is?” you asked. 

“Uhh… no” he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. He didn't like not knowing things. 

“That's okay. It's quite rare. It's a condition that makes sex painful, or at least difficult if it’s not treated properly” 

He nodded. 

“And basically it's an involuntary response to penetration. The muscles contract and it can be painful…” 

His brows furrowed. 

“So how do you… do you have sex?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Well not since we've been together, but yes I have had sex before, but most of the time it didn't work” 

He blushed. “And have you  tried, you know… treatments?” 

You took a sip of coffee before answering. 

“I started. Sometimes it works, but it takes time and effort.” 

 “Okay…” he muttered. “So it's just penetration that is painful?” 

You nodded. 

“So I can eat you out?” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“I- yes. Yes, I suppose you can.” 

He got up and walked over to you and held out his hand. 

“What, now?” you asked incredulously. 

He shrugged. 

“Unless you don't want to?” 

You were taken aback by his attitude. 

“That's it? You don't want to know more? You're not… disgusted?” 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb. 

“Why would I be disgusted. It's not like you can control it. As long as you are happy, I am happy. And if you want to try treatments, that's up to you. I'm not going to force you. I have a fully functioning hand, and as long as I can bring you pleasure in other ways, I'm good” 

Tears sprung to your eyes and he melted, getting down on his knees and stroking your thighs. 

“What is it? Did I say something wrong?” 

You shook your head. “You're the first man to not react badly. You really are the one” 

He blushed even darker at that. 

“Well let's see if I can make you come with my mouth, then you can decide” 

It was your turn to blush. He led you to the bedroom and lay you down on the bed, dragging your clothes off and admiring your body. 

“Fucking perfect. Can't wait to devour you” 

You scoffed at his cliché choice of words and he smirked. 

He spread your legs, licking his lips as he gazed at your already glistening cunt. It was all his, and he was going to prove to you he was worth it. 

He licked a stripe up your folds and you shivered. 

His eyes were on yours the whole time, studying your reactions, every twitch of your hips for any indication that he was doing a good job. 

He brought his hand up to thumb at your clit lazily while he took a quick breather. 

“Wait, I can't finger you can I?” 

You blinked at him. 

“Uhh… not at the moment, no” 

He nodded, taking it in his stride. “What about my tongue?” 

You groaned and he smirked up at you, proud that he was getting you this flustered already.

“Yes, your tongue should be fine” 

He dove back in gleefully, happy to have new information. 

You felt his tongue prod at your entrance and you gasped. 

He mistook that for discomfort so he retreated. 

"No” you begged, your hands going to thread in his hair to hold him there. “Keep going, it feels good” 

Max hummed and continued, pushing his tongue further inside you, and his nose bumped your clit every time.

He quickly figured out how to use that to his advantage, and he rubbed it against your clit with purpose every time he pushed his tongue inside you. 

You took an embarrassingly short time to come after that. 

Once Max had figured out the fastest way to make you come, it became a daily ritual. 

And the absolute sweetheart was doing as much research as he could to understand your condition, and how to treat it. 

He didn’t push you though. If you wanted to seek treatment that was your business.  

So he waited, and was perfectly happy to eat you out every day for the rest of his life if that's what was required of him. 

But a few weeks later you sat him down again. This time on the couch, and you were next to him with your legs over his lap as you chatted. 

“So I have some news…” you were looking at him with a shy smile, almost looking guilty about something. 

When you didn't elaborate he tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Well I know for a fact you're not pregnant. Unless you found another way to get my sperm and babytrap me”  

You slapped his chest and giggled. 

“No, Max. Although that is a great idea, thanks for the suggestion.” 

He laughed and leaned his head on the back of the sofa. 

“What I wanted to tell you is that I think I'm ready for the next step.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, up until now my condition has been mostly situational. A stress response, and sex has always stressed me out, for obvious reasons.” 

His hand was stroking your leg soothingly, which encouraged you to carry on. 

“I've been working on this since we got together. And I feel very at ease when I'm with you. And when I'm not with you…” you blushed and looked at your hands, suddenly shy. 

“Hey. Tell me. What about when I'm not here?” 

You looked up at him. 

“I've been fingering myself” 

You bit your lip, waiting for his response but he just stared at you. 

“You-" you could tell he was picturing it, although his expression remained mostly blank. “Okay…” 

“So really you're supposed to get these dilators, right? But I figured, fingers do the exact same job, and they're free. So I started out with one. And you're supposed to do it for like 20 minutes a day or something. And it has to be snug but not tight or painful, and when it feels fine you move up a size. So I'm now up to two fingers, which is fine, so I need a size up, but three fingers is way too much so I'd need someone with bigger fingers than me…” 

Max blinked. 

“You see where I'm going with this?” you asked encouragingly. 

“No?” Max was lost. All he could picture was you sticking your fingers up yourself for 20 minutes a day while he was out. 

You sighed. “Your two fingers are bigger than my two fingers, but smaller than three. So… I need you to finger me” 

Max just blinked again. 

It took most of your willpower to not slap him 

“Stop fucking blinking and say something” 

“I… are you sure it's safe? I mean you're supposed to do it with like proper equipment and-” 

“Max I swear to god if you start Maxplaining my own treatment to me I am going to lose it” 

He promptly shut up. 

“So we are going to go into the bedroom, and you are going to stick your fingers in me for twenty minutes. Can you do that?” you batted your eyelashes at him. 

“Yes” he rasped, and you giggled at him before leading him over to the bedroom. 

He lubed up his fingers, sliding one in to test the waters, and see your reaction. 

You nodded at him and he slipped the second one in. 

You immediately felt the difference with your own. 

It was a stretch, but not painful whatsoever.

And Max was already hard in his pants. 

This wasn't about him though, this was a medical procedure to help you out, nothing more. 

He knew what to do. 

He moved his fingers gently in circles, just like he'd read about on all those forums, towards the front, the back and to the sides. 

You looked at him in awe. 

“Max… how do you know what you're supposed to do?” 

He smiled gleefully at you. “I've done a lot of research” 

You melted into the bed, doing your breathing exercises as he continued to stretch you out. 

Your alarm rang when the twenty minutes were up, and you were almost disappointed. 

Despite it not being sexual in nature, you kind of liked being this close to your boyfriend. 

It felt very intimate. 

You did the same thing four days in a row, and it became a routine for Max, because every time it was over, he ate you out, and then you gave him a blowjob. 

Which is why when you told him you were moving up to three of your fingers and didn't need him for the next few days, he honestly felt like you'd put him on a sex ban. 

But when you explained to him that that just meant you didn't need him for the medical part, but he could still put two fingers inside you while he ate you out, his spirits were lifted instantly. 

A week later, it was time for three of his fingers, and that was a real stretch. 

It wasn't painful, but as soon as the third slipped in, you felt full. 

Your breathy gasp alerted Max. 

“All okay?” 

You nodded. 

“More than okay… I feel so… full.” 

Max twitched in his pants. 

“I suppose that's normal… my fingers are pretty big” 

You hummed and Max started the usual exercise. 

Except this time, it felt different. It felt almost… pleasurable. 

As it went on, Max noticed you were getting progressively wetter.  

After about 5 minutes of trying to hold in your noises, you let out the tiniest whimper. 

Max stopped his movements and you let out a soft whine. 

Max raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Did that feel good?” 

You huffed “Too good. I think you're gonna make me come like that if you carry on for much longer.” 

Max bit his lip. “I suppose that's good. It means you're relaxed” 

He continued the slow circles and you let out a shaky exhale.  

“Don't keep your noises in” he piped up. “It will just make you tense up. Let them out” 

You couldn't go on like this, it felt too good to not take advantage of it.

You glanced at your phone. 

12 minutes left. 

“Max, if you can make me come just like this in the next twelve minutes I'll let you come on my tits” 

Well with an offer like that how could he possibly refuse. 

“Can I use my mouth as well?” 

You looked at the time again. 11 minutes 37 seconds… 

“I suppose” 

His tongue ghosted over your clit as his fingers moved in their usual slow circles. 

You moaned and he smirked. 

Some medical procedure this was shaping up to be. 

He crooked his fingers upwards just the slightest bit, and the noise you let out was confirmation that he wouldn't need the full 11 minutes. 

You came with 7 minutes left on the timer. 

And you were so relaxed he swore he could have slipped a fourth finger in, but he didn't. That would be abusing your trust, and he was determined to be patient and see this through to the end. 

After another couple of weeks you deemed yourself finally ready. You'd done 4 of your own fingers, then 4 of his larger fingers. And you came every single time. 

And Max had bought you a small-ish dildo to make properly sure you were ready. 

He was away for a race weekend when you used it, but you sent him plenty of proof that you could take it easily, and he was very grateful. 

When he got back, you had a candle lit dinner, wine and all, before he took you to bed. 

You were eternally grateful to Max for sticking this out with you, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, even if it did just involve sticking fingers inside you. 

When Max finally lined himself up with your entrance, he was so nervous he felt like a virgin again. 

When he pushed in it was like the stars had aligned. Everything just felt right.

You had tears in your eyes (of happiness) and you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. 

He rolled his hips and you moaned into each other's mouths at the incredible feeling of finally being joined like this. 

Max lasted about 3 minutes he was so excited. Bless him. 

But he made up for it in the best way. 

He proposed, that night, while you both sat on the balcony in the warm Monaco air as the lights of the harbour twinkled below you. 

Yeah, he was the one. 

[purifiedclitoris69]

Breaking point

a/n: Finally got to the nat version of silent comfort. It’s a little short tbh so sorry about that. hope you enjoy!

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier reader

warnings: violence

You’d been with the Avengers for almost a year now, and in that time, you’d managed to carve out a space for yourself on the team. Sure, being the former Hydra experiment wasn’t exactly the most inviting introduction, but you didn’t let that define you. It wasn’t who you were anymore. You were the team’s go-to for a laugh, always cracking jokes, lightening the mood, and making it easier for everyone to handle the high-stakes pressure of their lives. What you didn’t talk about, though, was your past. Not because anyone had told you not to, but because you didn’t want to relive it.

Especially not now, when things were starting to feel... normal.

Normal was spending late nights on the couch with Natasha, arguing over which movie to watch but never finishing them because you’d get caught up in teasing each other. Normal was training together and catching her smiling at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Normal was her throwing playful jabs about how you talked too much, only to call you out on being unusually quiet when something was bothering you.

You weren’t sure when things had shifted, but somewhere along the way, the time you spent with her had become the highlight of your day. And judging by the way she always seemed to find excuses to stay close, you thought maybe—just maybe—she felt the same way.

Neither of you had said anything yet, though. It was comfortable, whatever this was, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

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

The quinjet hummed softly as the team prepared for the mission. Hydra remnants were regrouping, and the team had been sent to intercept a high-level target.

You were double-checking your gear when Natasha sauntered over, a sly smile already playing on her lips.

"You know," she said, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "I’ve noticed you spend an awful lot of time fussing over that utility belt. Got a secret stash of candy in there or something?"

You snorted, pulling a strap tighter. "Jealous I don’t share my snacks with you, Romanoff?"

"Please," she shot back, tilting her head. "If I wanted candy, I’d just take it," she shrugged her shoulders, "I always get what I want."

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try."

She stepped closer, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, or I might have to prove it."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re all talk."

"Am I?" She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of your belt, and for a split second, your heart skipped a beat. But instead of taking anything, she smirked and stepped back, clearly enjoying the way you were watching her.

"Tease," you muttered, pretending to focus on your gear again.

"You make it too easy," she quipped, crossing her arms.

Before you could come up with a comeback, Steve’s voice cut through the moment. "Gear up. We’re heading out in five."

Natasha straightened but didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "Try to keep up out there, rookie."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. "Try not to get distracted, Romanoff."

She laughed softly as she walked away, the sound lingering in the air long after she was gone.

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

Though successful the mission had been thoroughly chaotic, to say the least. Things had been going smoothly until Natasha went off-script.

You hadn’t even known what was happening at first. One second, you were covering her six, and the next, she was gone, chasing intel Fury and Maria Hill had deemed critical. It left you in a tight spot, trying to hold your ground without her, and you’d taken a few hits you shouldn’t have.

By the time the mission wrapped, you were sore, bruised, and too exhausted to joke around like you usually would. The tension on the jet ride back to the compound was thick, everyone keenly aware that Steve was seething.

The hanger was suffocatingly tense as the quinjet’s ramp descended with a mechanical hiss, and everyone piled out, the weight of the mission hanging heavily in the air. Conversations were sparse—exhaustion mingled with the unspoken tension. You were still catching your breath, the fight replaying in your mind, when Steve’s voice broke the silence.

“Romanoff, we need to talk.”

You glanced at Natasha, who was walking beside you. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop, striding toward the hangar floor like she hadn’t heard him.

“Natasha.” Steve’s voice carried more force this time.

She stopped, turning around slowly, her face calm but her eyes sharp. “What?”

Steve’s expression was stony as he marched toward her. “What the hell was that back there?”

“The part where we got the job done?” Natasha shot back, her voice icy.

“The part where you ignored orders and jeopardized the team,” he countered, standing toe-to-toe with her now.

You stepped closer instinctively, but for now, you stayed silent, your fists clenching at your sides.

“I didn’t jeopardize anyone,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I prioritized the bigger picture. Fury and Maria needed that intel, and I got it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Fury and Hill aren’t the ones in the field. We are. And when you decide their priorities are more important than this team, you’re not just making a bad call—you’re making a selfish one.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I made a call that benefited everyone in the long run. You might not like it, but it worked.”

“Did it?” Steve snapped, gesturing toward you. “Because they almost didn’t make it out thanks to you.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit. “That’s not fair, Steve,” you said, stepping in now.

He turned on you, his voice rising. “It is fair. You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t dragged you into her little side mission.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice low.

But Steve ignored you, his focus still on Natasha. “You know, it’s always the same with you. You play both sides, keep everyone guessing. It worked for you in the Red Room, maybe even with S.H.I.E.L.D., but here? That doesn’t fly. We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re still looking out for yourself first.”

The mention of the Red Room made your blood run cold. You saw the flicker of something in Natasha’s expression—a crack in her armor.

“Watch your mouth,” you said, stepping in front of her now, your voice dangerously calm, as you met Captain America eye level.

Steve’s gaze snapped to you, his frustration redirected. “Stay out of this.”

“No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

“Or what?” Steve challenged, jaw tightened, his temper bubbling over as took a step closer, eyes blazing with anger.

The moment he moved, you acted. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting with precision. With a sharp pivot of your hips, you flipped him over your shoulder. The impact reverberated through the hangar as Steve crashed into a nearby crate, shattering it into splinters.

The hangar went silent, the sound of the crash echoing in the vast space.

Steve was already scrambling to his feet, his eyes blazing with disbelief and fury. Bucky intercepted him, gripping his shoulder and holding him back

“Steve, don’t,” Bucky said, his voice firm but calm.

Natasha was in front of you before you could react, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushed you back. “Enough,” she said, her voice low but forceful.

You froze, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train.

You glanced around the hangar, catching the wide-eyed stares of your teammates. The expressions on their faces weren’t just shocked—they were scared. Of you.

Your gaze landed on Natasha last. Her green eyes were glassy, her brows furrowed with confusion and something that looked too much like hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. Then you turned and walked away, your boots echoing in the silence of the hangar as you disappeared into the compound.

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

The rooftop felt like the only place you could breathe. The cool night air bit at your skin as you sat on the ledge, your hands gripping the metal railing.

What the hell had you done? You’d spent so long trying to prove you weren’t the weapon Hydra made you, but one moment of anger had torn that facade apart.

“Hell of a move back there.”

You didn’t have to look to know it was Natasha. Her voice was light, but there was an edge of something else—concern, maybe.

“Didn’t mean to wreck the crate,” you muttered, still staring out at the city lights.

She walked over, her steps soft, and leaned against the railing beside you. “The crate’s fine. Steve, on the other hand…”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, bet he’s thrilled.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just studied you with that piercing gaze of hers. “Why’d you do it? he was right, I left you out there."

You sighed, finally meeting her eyes. "I would've been fine Tasha, and I know you know that," you looked down to your lap, "besides I couldn’t stand the way he was talking to you. Like you haven’t done more for this team than anyone.”Her expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. “I don’t care about your past, Nat,” you said quietly. “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone throw it in your face.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she reached out, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not who they made you either, you know.”

You looked at her, and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe you hadn’t completely lost yourself.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have to fight for me," her gaze dropping to your lips as you both began to lean in, " but thank you for doing it anyway," her breath fanned across you. Before you could reply, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was well over do. Her lips were soft against yours, warm and grouding in a way that made everything fade away.

When she pulled back, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. “Now let’s go figure out how to apologize to Steve.”

You groaned, but for the first time that night, you felt like everything might just be okay.

[redr0sewrites]

Arcane request time!

I'd love to request an Arcane woman x sub! male reader smut one shot. As I'm unsure of their sexualities I'll let you choose your favorite if that's okay with you.

🥀A/n: WOO!!! why did i lowkey base this off of monster by lady gaga.... 😭 anyways i love this req sm. i decided to do Ambessa for this request bc she's so fine and i havent written anything for her (please survive the season pookie) ♥️

🥀Cw: smut, sub!male!reader, dirty talk, kinda fluffy tbh, sleepy sex, overal filth

🥀Character(s): Ambessa x male!reader

🥀minors dni

waking up next to Ambessa is a rare experience. more often than not, she's busy with work or diplomacy, so you cherish the mornings you get to spend wrapped in her arms.

today was one of those instances, and you awoke to your lover just a few inches away from you, her curls sprawled across the satin pillowcase and a muscular arm tucked over your body. the usual furrow between her brow was relaxed, and the tense creases of her face were smoothed by blissful slumber. she looked like a goddess, and the warm sun peaking in through the window only amplified her beauty.

suddenly, Ambessa shifts, the mattress rippling beneath her as she groans. she never does stay asleep for long, it's practically in her nature to be an early riser. she stretches, pulling you in closer and tucking her head atop yours. you find yourself nuzzled against her bare collarbone, suddenly aware of the fact that your lover slept completely nude. she continues to stir, still groggy from sleep.

"i could feel you staring..." she rasps, pulling away to look you in the eyes. there is a rare, genuine smirk on her face, and her surprisingly light mood is infectious. you only giggle at her remark, and she rolls herself on top of you, pinning you down against the sheets.

"whatever happened to good morning? have i fallen in love with a delinquent?" Ambessa mocks you, but theres a playful hint in her rough voice that only draws you in.

"maybe you did..." you murmur, and Ambessa leans down to whisper in your ear. your acutely aware of her muscular body on top of yours, and the way her firm, weathered hands find purchase on your body. "it seems theres a monster in my bed," she purrs, one hand cups your face and supports her weight with her elbow while the other rubs teasing circles onto your hip. "does this monster need to be taught a lesson in manners?"

"i'd say my manners are just fine, thank you," you tease, and Ambessa hums thoughtfully. "i suppose another lesson wouldn't hurt now, would it?" she whispers, before pinning your hands above your head in one swift movement.

you open your mouth to protest, but your met with her tongue sliding between your lips as she enraptures you in a filthy french kiss. blood rushes to your cock as she spreads your legs with targeted accuracy, sliding a firm thigh between them. the only barrier between your skin and hers is the boxers you fell asleep in, and a small stain is beginning to form from the precum coating your tip.

you gasp against her mouth, her powerful form cages you in as your back arches. the slightest friction is applied to the tip of your leaking dick as it rubs against her thigh, and you whine sinfully. Ambessa pulls away to admire you, leaving a thin trail of spit connecting your lips in her wake.

"oh, darling, you look good enough to eat," Ambessa croons, sucking a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone. she wastes no time in tearing your boxers off, leaving you completely bare beneath her. your cock springs up against your abdomen, already hard. calloused hands travel across your body, one gripping firmly onto your thigh and the other rolling your nipple between two fingers. you moan at the stimulation, but Ambessa shushes you as she crawls down between your legs.

your heart pounds against your ribcage as Ambessa blows hot air against your leaking cock, watching as you twitch with arousal. a firm hand applies pressure to your navel, keeping your hips pinned to the bed as she takes your tip in her mouth.

"o-oh!" you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows. Ambessa smirks, swirling her tongue against your sensitive cock head while bringing one hand to massage your balls. the stimulation is intoxicating, and the only thing keeping you from bucking into her throat is the large hand keeping your hips pinned against the mattress. the coil in your abdomen begins to tighten as she continues her ministrations, massaging the base of your cock and balls with her free hand.

"please.." you whine, thighs clenching around her head as your cock twitches in her mouth. Ambessa hums, sending vibrations traveling up your spine as you begin to descend into ecstasy. however, just as you begin to reach the peak of your pleasure, she pulls away, leaving your cock twitching against your abdomen.

"why'd you stop?" you whine, pushing your hips out towards her, hoping to entice Ambessa into taking you into her mouth again. she only gives you a throaty laugh, before crawling up to straddle you.

"did you seriously think i'd let you cum that easily?"

this is kinda short but whatevsss its done‼️ sorru the ending is so ass buuut i just didn't know how to end it 😭 anyways, hope yall enjoyed, pls feel free to request more! im soooo happy classes and finals r over and i get to have more free time to write and draw ♥️♥️♥️