#molly’s!
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celeryb1tch · 1 year ago
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innocent!reader x experienced!pervert!abby is rotting my brain tonight!!!
18+!! this is lesbian smut!
you sit at a table in the mess hall, abby’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and her friends all enjoying their dinner. casual conversation is thrown around the table, until manny’s new fling is brought up.
“-and i mean, SOAKED the sheets. i couldn’t believe my eyes,” he recounts proudly.
everyone is laughing along or rolling their eyes, but abby notices your hesitance. she leans down toward you with a concerned look. “something wrong?”
you shake your head lightly, looking up at her. “jus’ don’t get it,” you reply.
abby feels her stomach twist. she had known there wasn’t great sex ed on the WLF base, but she and her friends had grown up around doctors like her dad and she realizes she hadn’t know the full extent of just how ignorant you were. and admittedly, it made her excited.
“she squirted when she came,” she tries to explain gently. but you still look utterly confused, even as she goes on.
“…come? and she didn’t pee?” you seem so utterly lost. abby wonders if it makes her a bad person to expose you to these ideas, but you’re both already adults. still, that knot is twisting inside her deriving a sick pleasure from all of this. you had always looked up to abby, and she wondered how wrong it would be to corrupt that relationship with talk of sex- or even a demonstration?
that night, you’re laying in bed thinking about what abby said earlier. with all the training and violence you’d grown up around, you hardly had time to pay attention to the ache between your legs, or how it would usually occur when abby was around. but as you recount that conversation in your mind, it appears once more. you think of her arm wrapping around you, pressing you into her hard front. how she was still warm and sweaty from the gym, and how her flyaways stuck to the sides of her forehead because of that. something inside of you is saying you should be embarrassed, and you don’t know exactly why- but a louder, much louder, part is telling you to confide in your best friend. she would never judge you, right?
you shuffle down a few hallways in your fluffy socks until you reach one of the bigger accommodations: abby’s room. and with a bit of hesitance in your knock, you step back as the door opens immediately.
abby is clearly groggy, and must have also been getting ready for bed. she’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and the usual black sports bra she has on during patrols and workouts. her hair is tied in her signature braid, with more wispy pieces that have come out throughout the day. “hey, you. everything okay?”
you nod and push past abby inside as was usual. she joins you on her bed, your bare thighs touching as you both sit. her eyes are on you and you can feel it again- that heat. you pull away slightly, squeezing your legs together as it’s the only thing you know eases the feeling.
abby pretends not to notice, just like she does any other time you blatantly stare at her muscles or blush when she touches your waist. she doesn’t want to scare you off, especially when she thinks she can tell what you’re going to ask about.
“you remember earlier at dinner?” you say, biting your lip slightly as unease turns in your tummy. and abby just nods, still looking right at you. “how manny said he made a girl, uh…”
“squirt?” abby offers. she says it so nonchalantly, like it’s nothing. like she’s never in a million years thought about fucking you until you do. like she wasn’t hoping this would happen every second after dinner.
“yeah, well, i realized there’s probably a lot of sex stuff i don’t know, and since you… y’know…”
poor baby, she thinks. how will she ever work up the courage. and abby thinks of all the times she’s teased you about all the women she’s fucked. called you jealous that you had to split quality time with her one night stands. seen you pout about her missing games night because someone asked her on a date in front of you. surely you were going to ask for her expertise- for her to help you out, to show you?
“since your dad was a doctor.”
oh. that was it? you wanted a little anatomy lesson. then what was all the embarrassment for? were you that ashamed of asking for a little bit of guidance?
abby gives you a soft smile and an assurance that she can help. and your body floods with relief. this is normal. you can tell her what you’re feeling and she won’t act weird. she can help you.
you stand up and strip off your pyjama bottoms and big shirt you had likely stolen from abby so long ago you don’t remember whose it was in the first place. and she just watches, small smile still on her face as she looks you over.
“okay, so right here? boobs, obviously.” she points to your chest, and you roll your eyes.
“i know that, stupid. show me the more advanced stuff.”
“you’ll have to take your underwear off then.” so you do.
abby instinctively reaches for it, stroking her fingers between your puffy, wet lips. her eyes are shining with admiration and her cheeks are hot.
you pull away slightly at the bolt of pleasure that spikes through you at her touch. “is it… supposed to look like this? i think there’s something wrong.”
she shakes her head fervently, eyes never leaving your pussy. “you’re just wet, that’s all. did something turn you on?” and at your confusion at the term- “get you excited? when girls see something attractive, they get wet.”
oh no. you can feel dread flooding your senses as you try to scramble for an explanation. that it just happens sometimes. that’s normal, right?
after a pause, and a look at your face, abby knows exactly what happened. “oh. you got wet from me, huh?”
you want to run away and disappear. you swallow a sob, but strangely, you feel that pulsing sensation again. all of this attention from abby isn’t working in your favour.
but she isn’t grimacing in disgust, or even asking you to leave. in fact, abby has a shit-eating grin on her face as she watches you cower in front of her.
“you’re not… mad?” you ask sheepishly.
abby reaches out to you, pulling you onto her lap. “no, baby, of course not. it’s cute.”
relief washes over you, but before you can really relax you feel abby’s hand once again on your folds.
“so wet for me, baby. how long has this been happening?”
a finger skims against a particularly sensitive spot, and you choke on your words, succumbing to the blissful feeling. “s-so long, abs. like forever.”
“poor girl. so pent up, so needy. and too embarrassed to tell me.”
“yeah…” you whine. you’re clinging to abby like a lifeline, overwhelmed by the building tension. it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. so intense, so all-consuming.
abby’s fingers are expertly caressing your pussy, steadily adding more pressure so as not to overstimulate you. “this is the clit,” she murmurs, and you feel that electric spark again as she glides over one specific spot at the top.
“it’s too much,” you cry out, wriggling under her grasp.
“that means you’re cumming soon,” she explains with a chuckle. “feels so good, trust me. just ride it out.”
and you trust abby with every ounce of your being, so you try to relax your muscles as much as possible while you feel that climbing feeling come to a boil. and she was so right. you’re huffing tiny sobs into her chest as you come down, her strokes easing as you’re finally able to catch your breath again.
abby cradles you into her, clean hand running through your hair. you can feel the puddle between your thighs dripping down her own and onto the sheets, and you’re so exhausted.
“that was so hot, baby. did such a good job for me.”
“abs, that was… wow.”
she’s smiling down at you, admiring your sweat- wicked face. “bet you wish you’d asked me sooner, huh?”
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when I was a little kid at some point I got upset with my parents because I didn't have a crucifix in my bedroom and they did- I was like why do YOU get to be safe from vampires??? you're okay with me getting my blood sucked???? so we took a little trip to the catholic store but the one closest to us was run by a group of nuns that had been moved here from romania. I got a little baby pink cross and this sweet old nun was like 'aww, is this a baptism gift?' and I was like no. I need to be protected from vampires. and she immediately got SO serious and was like 'this is the best one we've got, you'll definitely be safe' and since she was literally from vampire land I was convinced she was like, van helsing. like the whole time my parents had been laughing about how cute my fear was but she literally Knew dracula and was taking my concerns seriously I held this over my parents for so long lmfao
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hollis-art · 3 months ago
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get that girl her Odo fries !!
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toorumlk · 1 month ago
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the weasleys, circa 1995
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typewriter-worries · 8 months ago
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The Glass Essay, Anne Carson | Molly Brodak, Molly Brodak
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muppetsnoopy · 1 year ago
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they need to invent magic.spell that flosses and brushes my teeth for me and also tuckes me into bed soso cozy
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mollymurakami · 1 year ago
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somewhere in south downs...
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diabloku · 10 months ago
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What if... ☁️
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Molly is there too guys....
I wish Molly will be his friend and one day they'll connect the dots about his Angel being her Anthony
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hotcelebeauties · 3 months ago
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Molly Ringwald
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meandtheyeehaws · 10 months ago
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guess who i rlly wanna see reunited
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contact-guy · 2 months ago
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THE DYING DETECTIVE - part 3 - part 1 - part 2 - "to the last gasp he would always be the master" - there is at least one panel that made me laugh while drawing it so I hope it makes you laugh, too. It's the least I could do.
This will most likely be the last update for a few weeks - going to England on a trip (where Sherlock Holmes lives!!! omg!) - when I return it will be for a cozy early Christmas special, THE BLUE CARBUNCLE.
(This is in the Watsons sketchbook series!)
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celeryb1tch · 8 months ago
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spencer reid x student!reader
18+! this post contains nsfw content
when spencer gets home from work he finds that you haven’t finished your essay, so he tries to ease your mind.
content: lots of pet names, fem!reader, you’re getting an arts degree lol, age gap but not too intense since this is early-ish seasons spencer, slight degradation at the end, reader orgasm, oral and fingering (r! receives), overstim, forced orgasm.
(i’m literally gay but i’ve been so delusional and in love with this fictional man lately i had to write something to get it out of my system!!!)
when your boyfriend came home from work, tie loose and satchel abandoned on the kitchen counter, you felt a wave of embarrassment flush you. you were still working on the same essay you had been last night; the one spencer made you promise you’d finish today.
“how is my pretty girl?” he asked, laying back beside you on the couch. when he leaned over to kiss you chastely, your stomach churned and you shut your laptop quickly.
you could feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, biting back the sob you so desperately needed to get out. spencer took one look at your face and sighed, wrapping an arm around you.
“oh, baby. you didn’t finish it?”
“i tried!” you protested, your eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing his disappointed face. “please don’t be mad at me.”
spencer’s gentle hand cupped your cheek, running his thumb across it lightly. “look at me, angel. i’m not mad.”
the floodgates opened when you finally dared to look at him, seeing his mouth pressed in a flattened line. tears streaked your face and it only added to the embarrassment. your boyfriend was a capable man, and here you were crying because you couldn’t finish a stupid essay before he got home from his 9-to-5.
he tried to hold you closer, but you struggled against him. you didn’t deserve his comfort or his sympathy. he settled for running his free hand through your hair soothingly. “hey, just talk to me. what went wrong, can i help?”
you shook your head, fighting through a hiccupped sob to answer. “i couldn’t find the last source i need. i was sifting through articles for like four hours, and i just gave up.”
ever the problem solver, spencer smiled down at you softly. “okay, let me take a look. you know i have fairly good research skills, they’re kinda required for my job.”
“you don’t get it!” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. “you go to work all day and i can’t even find one source. one! i shouldn’t need your help for everything.”
recognition flashed in his eyes, and then he really pulled you in. it was useless to relent, you could feel the determination in his touch. he shushed you softly, one hand wrapped around you firmly while the other drew patterns on your back. when your breaths slowed and your sobs subsided, he pulled back to hold you at arms’ length. “baby, you are one of the smartest people i know.”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and spencer grabbed your chin to ensure you couldn’t look away.
“i wouldn’t lie. no one i know is as sensitive as you are, as empathetic and in touch with their emotions. that’s what makes you so good at this program. i certainly couldn’t complete your degree.”
and you knew how bad at concealing the truth your boyfriend was, so reluctantly you believed him. “thank you,” you just about whispered.
his eyes cast pure adoration on you, even as your tear-stained cheeks were red and raw. “your incredible brain is one of the reasons i fell in love with you. so if you can’t find anything, there must be a reason. could you please just let me take a look?”
spencer had indisputably won you over, one arm still holding you to his side as he opened your laptop on his own lap. you relaxed into him, head pressed to his chest where you could hear his heart beating perfectly. with a hum, he scanned your tabs in a matter of seconds, scrolling to the bottom of the search result page at a speed the computer could barely keep up with. “i know what it is, but you’re not going to be happy.”
lifting your head, you squinted at your boyfriend inquisitively.
“you were typing the date wrong, honey. the last two numbers were flipped.”
you felt that feeling of incapability rush through you again, your eyes stinging in preparation to cry. but spencer was right there to prevent you from shutting down, hand on your head passing slow strokes in comfort.
his lips hitched into a small sympathetic smile when he looked down at you. “my poor girl, worked yourself up so hard your brain stopped working. too much essay writing this week.”
and of course, he was right. you’d been running yourself ragged recently trying to keep up with deadlines, not to mention the extra work you’d taken on early to prevent overwhelm for finals. when you’d told him your plan, spencer had advised against it. he didn’t want you sacrificing your sanity now for a bit more time with your boyfriend in a few months. but never not supportive, he relented and instead helped you draft a schedule to complete everything.
you couldn’t feel too stupid with spencer’s sweet voice telling you that you weren’t. “it’s not even due until next week, remember? i just wanted you to finish it tonight so i could take you out to dinner,” he confided sheepishly. “you’ve been working so hard, i wanted to reward you.”
despite knowing it was physically impossible (as spencer reminded you often), you could feel your heart swell from the overwhelming love you felt for your boyfriend. you pecked kisses all over his face incessantly until he swatted you away, blushing crimson from the unexpected affection. “okay, where are we going?”
spencer hummed mischievously in faux thought, tucking your wild hairs back from your face. “you didn’t finish your essay, so i actually think it’s only fair to punish you. at least before i take you out anyway.”
a heat bloomed in you, both in your cheeks and between your legs. it was rare that your boyfriend was anything but tooth-achingly sweet with you, saving his more dominant side for certain circumstances. apparently this was one of them. “oh, really? how are you gonna punish me, sir?”
he pulled you into his lap, mouth finding your neck immediately. “if you’re going to be stupid, i might as well treat you like you are. i know how much you like it when i call you a dumb slut, despite the fact that we’re both aware of how intelligent you are.”
your core ached with need, fluttering at his words. “that’s kinda fucked up, huh? i shouldn’t want that.”
“actually, it’s fairly common, especially for women with a high amount of stress in their everyday lives. most people enjoy some form of degradation and or praise when having sex.”
“spencer,” you groaned. his beautiful brain always had to get in the way of the fun, not that you seriously minded.
he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. “sorry, baby. yes, it makes you a very naughty girl.”
despite the pure love in his eyes and his touch, you felt a pang of arousal when he degraded you. it felt good to be demeaned by someone who thought so highly of you. so you let him pin you against the couch, clothes long forgotten, and relished in his nasty words as he sunk to his knees before you.
your laptop was somewhere on the ground, still open to that unfinished document. but it was the last thing on your mind when you felt spencer’s mouth trailing down your front. his fingers hooked your panties, pulling them down with a string of arousal attached. “fuck,” he grumbled. “you are a little slut, aren’t you?”
you struggled to respond as his fingers passed through your folds, thumb toying with your clit lightly. “mhm, yours.”
“that’s right, baby.” all of the showy dominance dropped for a second when he smiled up at you, that familiar twinkle of passion in his eyes. and then he ate you out.
all you could do was grip the bedsheets, small whines leaving you each time he ran his tongue roughly up your clit. he’d take a moment to kiss your inner thighs, slipping two fingers inside to hit that sweet spot when he wasn’t lavishing it with his mouth. it wasn’t long before you were on the edge, feeling the knot snap in your stomach. with a start, you gasped through your orgasm, spencer’s hand finding yours to soothingly stroke his thumb across your knuckles. but as your breaths slowed, he didn’t.
“spence, i’m done,” you panted, hand gripping his hair.
“no you’re not.”
with a roll of your eyes, you tried to pull your hips away to no avail. his fingers were still pumping into you at a relentless pace. his head raised to meet your eyes, slick across his lips. he looked wild like this, disheveled, so different from your normal boyfriend, who was almost too sweet for his own good. “i told you this was a punishment.”
even knelt between your legs, this spencer was in complete control. his gaze was locked on yours, watching every tiny movement when he skimmed his thumb across your clit again. your core reignited when you realized what was going on. he was going to force you to cum again.
“please, too much” you whined, free hand pushing the top of his head away in a superficial effort. you couldn’t think properly with the intensity of the overstimulation.
spencer licked his lips, voice gravelly in a tone it only reached when he was purely aroused. “you can take it, honey. i know you can be a good girl for me. don’t you wanna be good?”
you nodded silently. there wasn’t much you could do but let him fuck you stupid.
“that’s it. gonna make you dumb, yeah? i’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think.” his head dipped down, resuming his wet, sloppy kisses to your clit. and with the combined effects of his words and actions, you were cumming again quickly.
you were unabashedly moaning now, jaw slacked open and eyes screwed shut. you were far past the point of caring what you looked like to the man furiously devouring you between your legs. your hand gripped his tighter, feeling his fingers pound a bit harder in acknowledgment.
your second orgasm felt like being catapulted into the atmosphere. it was sharper, practically knocking the air from your lungs. it took you a few moments to stop panting.
spencer grinned up at you, a sight for sore eyes in your clouded vision. “thinking about anything, baby?” he asked. and when he only received a small shake of your head, “good.”
his mouth returned to your core, soft kitten licks causing you to twitch and wince away. he squeezed your hand firmly, giving you a stern look. “only cleaning you up this time, promise.”
once you weren’t dripping arousal down your thighs, spencer pulled you onto him when he sat back down on the couch. all you could focus on were his warm, strong hands tracing sequences on your skin. he loved to imagine binary code, mapping it out on you because he knew the motion calmed you down.
you were barely conscious, brain buzzing like tv static in the post-sex bliss. you heard spencer chuckle to himself before saying, “so i think we’re getting takeout.”
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I think we're too harsh on medieval painters because this is legitimately what some poodle mixes look like
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rockettequeen · 4 months ago
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⊹₊⊹₊ girlhood grunge ⊹₊⊹₊
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₊⊹hold you close like we both died,
my ever present suicide ⊹₊
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389 · 3 months ago
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Molly Upton Watchtower (1975) Quilt
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forgottenflickr · 6 months ago
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“Marbles and Molly” 2002
“They were once tiny and amused by the computer!”
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