#we drink more coffee than wine!
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Do you drink coffee in the Empire?
Does the level of Imprial bureuacracy looks like we don't have coffee to you?
#the mystery answered#use your brain a little#of course we drink coffee#we drink more coffee than wine!#statistics skewed by the county of bruma which consumes over half of the country's mead per capita#but still
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Post wheeler shrimp colors realization is like. S4. Ted takes active notice of Mike when he walks downstairs in the morning. He doesn't even look up from his newspaper when Nancy walks by in a later morning scene.
#and when mike sarcastically asks what he would do without them (ted and karen) ted takes a sip of his coffee which#upon first watch its very innocuous but 'eating' deliberately being one of the 'distractions' henry lists in his monologue#didnt like that ted huh. didnt like that mike just implied that he would be okay without you. hm?#which upon further thinking i have realized that ted is just always eating/drinking something in every scene in s2#which we talk about karen always having a cup of wine but not this. fair enough however its much less obvious#alcohol is a distraction but emotional eating is too. but one is more of a red flag than the other#misc#also him holding the random donut in the church scene. again strange and out of place but makes so much sense now
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secret polaroids - spencer reid
summary: secretly dating your coworker, when it all coomes to light due to a blurry polaroid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
“wait, whos in the picture behind your phonecase?!”
doctor spencer reid, the genius with an eidetic memory, one of the fbi’s brightest minds, your coworker. who you’ve been secretly going out with for the last couple of months
it all happend over spilled coffee, you had been rushing over to the office, holding cups of coffee for the team working on a case out of town. as a new member of the team you wanted to make a good impression, hell maybe suck up to them a little.
so when you walk in the precint and spill the coffee all over your clothes, the work of a small town cop running into you, spencer offers to drive you to the hotel, to change into clean clothes.
“that was so embarrasing god what an idiot” you said covering your flushed face as spencer drove to the hotel
“the cop ran into you, besides you were doomed from the start carrying 8 cups of coffee in the same hand, and statistically speaking, it's actually quite common to spill coffee, especially when multitasking or under stress, the brain can only process a limited amount of information at once, which leads to small errors in motor control.” spencer looked over at you and chuckled
"you know it amazes me how much information you have stored up in your brain, i mean i know about the phd´s and everything but still its so amazing" you said looking over at him as he parked in front of the hotel, you can see his cheeks start to form a little red to them and naturally yours do too
and after that, a couple of weeks later full of small glances, smiles and of derek telling him how painfully obvious it was that he likes you and liked him. he asked you out
"you know people who share common interests and engage in meaningful conversation tend to form stronger connections and, well, i really enjoy talking with you, so i was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? i promise i won’t ramble about statistics the entire time" he said as he tried to hide the blush in his face so the rest of the team wouldnt know what the both of you were talking about in your desk
"spence, id love nothing more than to hear you ramble over dinner"
one dinner became two then three, then you found yourself kissing him goodnight as he dropped at the door to your apartment
he leans in slightly, hesitating for a brief moment, as if calculating the perfect timing and then gently kisses you
"i really enjoyed tonight" you said after the kiss "would you like to come in for a drink?"
he pauses for a moment, trying to think clearly then says "id love too"
after a while you both end up getting wine drunk in your apartment floor, which leads to the decision of your bringing out your polaroid camera
"come on spence smile for the camera" you laughed trying to get him to take his hands off his face but he wouldnt so you snap the picture anyway
"alright enough, your turn" he said taking the camera from your hands and taking a couple of pictures of you.
he wobbles a little setting his wine glass down in the counter, eyes half-focused but full of affection. "you know,ive been thinking, well, not just tonight, but, like a lot. you’re amazing and smart, and funny, and so beautiful and i think your definetly out of my league and if i were to kiss you then go to hell, i would. so then i could brag to the devils i saw heaven without entering" He fumbles over his words, blinking slowly, but his sincerity is clear. "maybe you could, um, be my girlfriend? statistically, we’re, uh, compatible, and I think we could you know be really happy together what do you say?" he offers a lopsided smile, clearly a bit nervous despite the alcohol.
his rambling takes you back "did you just quote shakespeare to me?" you chuckled as you leaned in to kiss him once more
"is that a yes i take it?" he said kissing you back
"yes doctor reid, i want to be your girlfriend" his eyes wide open to your response, and for a moment hes speechless, he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck and grabs the camera once more
"come on we are taking our first official dating picture" he smiles shyly but brightly taking a blurry polaroid of the two of you in front of the mirror
the two of you knew it was better to keep the relationship private, spencer's face flushed when you mentioned the thought of how derek would tease him, or how he wouldnt hear the end of it from garcia being all happy for the both of you. knowing they wouldnt do it to harm either of you but since this was quite new and being coworkers, you decided to keep it private but not a secret. the team knew spencer was seeing someone, emily said his face seemed brighter and suddenly he couldnt stay overtime to finish the files jj had sneeked him in his desk. and they knew you were seeing someone too since garcia said she caught you smiling while you were texting, they hoped you guys were seeing each other but since neither of you ever mentioned the date or maybe it was the fact that you really were able to mantain a professional front while working, they hadnt been able to fully catch on that you were dating spencer
that was until you decided to put the blurry polaroid of the night he asked you to be his girlfriend behind your phone case
"wait who's in the picture behind your phone case?" penelope squealed with exciment catching the attention of the rest of the team
"is that your boyfriend y/n, do i officially have no chance with you" chuckled derek leaning against your desk as you nervously took your phone from garcia
"oh come on now she will tell us when she wants too" emily approached then took your phone from your hands "besides you cant really tell who it is in the picture" as she looked at the picture trying to figure it out despite your efforts to take the phone from her hands.
derek stood beside her also looking at the picture "hey but doesnt it kind of look like.."
"morning what are we looking at" spencer appeared at your desk, his face blushing when he saw the picture emily and derek were looking at, they looked at spencer, then looked at you burying your face in your hands
"oh my god, no way really?!?" garcia said with a bright smile "doctor love oh my god i cant belive it" she said hugging spencer
"so i guess the cat is out of the bag huh?" you said looking at spencer
"you owe me 20 bucks i told you they were dating" emily said playfully punching derek in the shoulder
"wait you guys had bets on this" spencer said laughing nervously letting go of the hug with garcia
"well pretty boy we didnt actually think you would even ask her out how long has this been going on for" said morgan looking playfully hurt "baby girl let them breathe" he said pulling garcia from you
"a couple of months" you mentioned letting go of the hug with a cheesy smile
"alright, we have a case" said rossi joining the team by your desk. the team grins weider as they notice spencer blushing as he stands next to you "were really happy, for the both of you" said derek as they started to walk away. you get up from your desk following the team and squeeze your boyfriends hand, a signal that all was well
"did you really think we wouldnt figure it out?" rossi raised his eyebrows as he looked at spencer watching walk away while the team playfully teased you "im happy for you kid" rossi patted him on the back
spencer shakes his head with a half-laugh trying to hide the blush in his face as they joined everyone.
⋆。°✩
a/n: feedback would be super appreciated, i hoped you enjoyed reading <33
#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#derek morgan#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#bau team#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fandom
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john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.
john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.
sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x
and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.
~~
you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.
~~
he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.
he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.
he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.
“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.
“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”
john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”
“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”
like running into my car?
“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.
“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.
“supposed to be?”
she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”
“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.
it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.
“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”
that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?
it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.
“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.
“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”
crashed. you crashed into my car.
“sounds terrible.”
“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.
john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.
“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.
he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.
#john price#price is right#price x f!reader#price x female reader#no I don’t know what this is either#self-indulgent tbh#why can’t I have met john price when I was a drunk barista#we love readers taking Ls around here#also I bet cctv footage is ass but in fic land it’s not pls forgive me
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Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
________________
“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide.
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans.
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained.
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested.
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.”
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped.
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say.
“Strip Poker!”
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said.
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely.
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you.
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched.
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded.
A five. Fuck.
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost.
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards.
“Blackjack, baby!”
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered.
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him.
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully.
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment.
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment.
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey.
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly.
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully.
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed.
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.
#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#mgg fluff#mgg x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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"Him" | LN4
Parings: Lando Norris x bestie!reader.
Summary: Oblivious idiots to lovers. That's what Max said.
Word count: +2,7k.
Warnings: nooone just pure fluff and some language hehe. Not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.
Author's note: AAAAAAA i loved writting this one 🥹 Dont forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
“You only say that because you fancy him, y/n. You can't play with me”Max said out of nowhere while talking about the whole Lando drama and his fourth championship at Danny Ric’s house. Your three have been best friends for quite some time now. Actually, you have been friends with most of the grid for a couple of years now. They were like family to you and recently, you moved countries to live and study in Monaco and be able to spend more time with your friends.
“What have you just said motherfucker?” you acted offended. Nethertheless it took you by surprise that he said such a thing when you have never talked about Lando and your feelings for him with him nor danny. But Max knew you too well to already know the whole story. Of course Danny laughen and you could feel the heat going up your face. You feel exposed so you try to cover up by drinking another sip from your glass of white wine. You thank god it was in the privacy of Danny's house and not some random bar for everyone to hear.
“Oh c’mon y/n, i think it’s pretty too obvious by now” max continued noticing the panic and surprise on your face.
“Yeah, it is obvious and cute to see how you drool, staring at him everytime he talks. And not to mention you eat him alive at races when he is all sweaty -” danny continued the torture but you stopped them both making them laugh.
“Just stop!” you said “you guys are impossible!” your face was red and anxiety took over you for a moment.you sighed defeated. “To be honest with you, yeah, I do like him. But lets be real, im nt even his type at all” you said remembering how he was kissing magui, that model he fucks now and the, kind of a situationship, in front of your fucking face the whole night a few weeks ago. “And even as impossible as it sounds, if there was an actual chance for me with him, we wouldn't work either. I'm complicated. And he doesn't see me like that. He never did. And i'm sure that won't change like ever” you added just convince yourself of everything you said. It was impossible, right? There was no chance in this universe for him to see you like that. You are so far from what he used to date. It's just an innocent crush. You’ll meet someone,right? You saw Max denying with his head.
“y/n, i know you are not the most confident human being i know but be fucking for real, you are not complicated. And everything you said it's nonsense. You are fun to be around, you make him laugh until he pisses himself, you give him his favorite things, you bake him cookies and pies, you listen to him when he is sad, you are like the bestest person next to him. And let me tell you, I have no doubts he is into you as much as you are. It's in your eyes guys. You love each other more fondly than you want to admit” he said leaving you speechless for a moment and with a mess of confusion around your head. You wanted to believe him but at the same time you can’t.
“Mic drop, sir” Danny said and they both laughed. You smiled but rolled your eyes in disbelief.
“I wish” you finally said, making Max roll his eyes.
“Two oblivious idiots, can you believe it danny?” Max said ironically and Danny followed him.
“I see it mate. It's sad. I wanna cry” he said.
“You guys are impossible." You declared to go back to your trivial talk about cats and australia barbecue.
(...)
It was a beautiful saturday. You were thankful Ria said yes to accompany you to buy a new outfit for tonight's party. Martin Garrix was in town and lando invited you all to his friend's show. Coffees in hand, you were chatting about everything and anything.
“So the plan is a sexy outfit just to impress your boy?” she teased and you rolled your eyes.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with the idea that I like lando? As if he would care what I wear or not” you said, a little irritated. You just wanted to conquer someone else tonight to forget about all of this and move one. You knew it was impossible that Lando liked you back so why be stuck in it? You were gonna dress up and doll up and conquer whoever you may please. That was your masterplan.
“Girl, you need to relax. I say it first hand: he cares a lot fucking much. He likes you. I just know.but you two are too dumb to accept it” she said raising her shoulders.
You felt so confused once again. These were Lnados friends who knew him just like you did. First it was Max and Danny and now it is ria. You didn't want to fool yourself. And at the same time you wanted him to know for the longest time. You wanted him to notice you. And you also knew him and you knew how he is with girls and if he liked you then he would've told you by now.
“Ria, dont play with me” you begged. Concern showed in your voice. She gave you a gentle hug by your side.
“I won't ever do that to you y/n. I would never in a million years forgive myself if I did. You're my friend and I just want you to be happy. Believe me” her voice was soft and sweet. You just smile and change the subject. You didn't want to discuss this anymore. Nor did you think you could handle it.
(...)
Saturday night finally came and so did the margaritas you so dearly adore when you needed to forget reality. You were pretty tipsy by now. You met Franco Colapinto and you didn't even know he was invited but oh god he was so fun to be around. You've Been talking to him the whole night about whatever to be honest.and yeah, he looked really hot tonight by the way. You felt lucky he even looked at you and so you followed around.
You bumped into Max at the bar table after ordering yet another margarita. He looked at you a little tipsy as well.
“So you replaced lando for an argentine prince, huh?” He teased you.
“Oh shut the fuck up verstappen. Were in public” you said going back to the barman who was handing you your precious margarita drink. He rolled his eyes.
“Be careful. Lando's not happy” he said and disappeared into the people holding his vodka with red bull. Weird mix but he was loyal to his employers i guess.
You came back to where Franco was waiting for you to be back. He looked so cute under the lights in that white shirt he was wearing. And speaking of white shirt you saw Lando talking to him. You cursed yourself right there. You may or may not have ignored him the whole night. But you just couldn't face him after what all your friends said. You just didn't want to be tempted by his pretty shiny green eyes and his mouth. Oh what you'd give up just to taste his lips.
“Oh there is the missing girl,” Lando said, looking at you when you arrived and smiling nervously. The tension established between you two even Franco noticed it.
“Guess it is my turn to go to the bar. Be right back, guys” he said and left the two of you alone. You took a sip from your glass avoiding his sight.
“What's wrong with you?” he said kind of offended? Anger could be clearly heard in his voice. You sighed not knowing what to answer.
“What do you mean lando?” you decided to play the fool. You wanted to run away. His eyes were intimidating you.
“One day we watch movies together and bake cookies and the other you ignore me for several days and even flirt with another dude straight to my face?” what he just told you took you by surprise. You frowned, confused at his statement. The tension was burning your throat. He got closer and so you finally faced him. You looked at him. His face straight and his eyes dark with a little sparkle. You couldn't read what was going on inside him. Maybe he was just as confused as you were. “You look too pretty in that dress to be talking to him and not me” you could breathe his warm breath tasting tequila mixed with lemon. You swallowed hard. Your insides exploded. what was happening? He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. His touch burns your skin sending shivers down your spine. This was actually happening? Your hands were shaking. You really thought about what to tell him. A devilish smile appeared in his face when he thought he left you speechless. But you weren't ready to let him win.
“Well, for your information, I'm single and I can talk to wherever my vagina pleases so that shouldn't be none of your business. Also, why would I talk to you if you have been talking with more than one girl tonight? I'm a selective lady. What can I say” you smiled innocently.
He bit his lip. He tightened his grip around you. More possessive. More irresistible. Your innocent smile turns into a triumph smile. ”so if you dont mind i’ll keep talking to Franco and luckly fuck him. Have a good night Landito” you said provocatively leaving lando hanging into his words as you pulled away and walked away from him. His brain is malfunctioning.
And as you promised you kissed and fucked Franco Colpinto that night.
(...)
It was already the next sunday and Lando had disappeared. There was nowhere to be found. He didn't reply to your texts nor your calls. He became just dead silent. That made you feel even more confused than you already were. What did it mean what happened at the party? What were his intentions? Why didn't you kiss him? You were torn into feeling guilty and stupid at the same time. Like you had an actual chance with him but you didn't take it. And you didn't even know why. You hated yourself so much for that. How stupid.
Max, Lando's best friend, invited you over along with Pietra and Lando. You were cooking some vanilla flavored cookies with chocolate chips. The famous crumble cookies. Lando has been pretty much ignoring you. And you have been really quiet. Very unusual both ways. The tension was irritating. Max and Pietra tried to play it cool but it was very uncomfortable. When Lando came back from the bathroom, Max took him into the terrace and you stayed with pietra inside in the kitchen doing your stuff.
“Babe, what happened between you two?” she sounded genuinely worried. You sighed stressed.
“To be honest with you, I don't know. After a weird moment at the party last Saturday, he has been ust ignoring me. I didn't know if he was even alive if Max didn't invite us here. Very childish in my opinion but what can I say? I Didn't face him either.” you explained and pietra frowned her eyebrows.
“You need to talk honey. You need to tell him” she said, sobbing in your arms. You pressed your lips together looking outside through the glass door straight to lando seriously talking to max.
(...)
After the worst and most traumatic hang around with Max and Pietra - the cookies were great by the way - Lando offered to give you a ride and you said yes. Probably the worst decision of your life because the tensi could be cut by a knife and it was hard to breathe of how dense the air was inside the car. His radio was playing Jmaes Blunt ‘you’re beautiful". It was one of your favorite songs. How pretty was to you to enamour someone just by existing in the subway going to work or going back from university. You just romanticized that idea. You started mumbling the lyrics in a whisper just to not disrupt his comfort. But after a few seconds he turned off the radio and you looked at him weirded out.
“I can't do this anymore,” he said, parking his car on the side of the road. Anxiety kicked you. You licked your lips looking at your hands and he was just starting to nowhere outside his car window.
“I really like you y/n. I am in love with you in fact. And dim so stupid i realized about it when i saw you with Franco kissing. His hands touching you grossed me out. It felt wrong because that should've been me - not him” he finally looked at you. What he just said took you by surprise and you wanted to cry but holded inside. You looked back at him. The knot in your throat was unbearable.
“We are idiots,” you said, remembering what Max said to you a couple of months ago.”Because I'm in love with you. I was too afraid to tell you and ruin what he had. Losing you terrifies me. And to be honest I just thought you wouldn't even look at me that way. I never felt pretty enough for you, I don't know why” when he heard you say that last sentence his heart sank.
“I always felt you were out of my league to be honest. Please, y/n, you're gorgeous, and funny as fuck, and intelligent, and sweet and such a great person. You're almost perfect. Don't ever talk about you like that. I'm just an idiot. A normal stupid ass dude. Don't compare yourself like that ever again” he said feeling a little guilty for you to feel that way even though it was not his fault.
You gave him a soft smile nodding.”you know? I can't believe every single friend of yours told me for months that you liked me and I just couldn't believe it. How dumb I gotta be. So I'll fight the intelligent compliment of yours” you said, making him laugh.
“But let's be honest, who thinks straight when they are in love?” he said with the most precious smile and sparkly eyes looking at you so fondly. You knew you had heart eyes in your eyes.
“Fair point” you said, smiling widely. And you giggled out of nervousness. He did too.
Two kids in love. You dreamed about this day for so many years. You just hoped that it wasn't another dream because it felt like one. And without asking, Lando took you out of your self doubt and inner conversion pressing his lips into yours in the most felt kiss you have ever given. The man that you are Lando norris. You cupped his face on your hands making the kiss more intimate and passionate. A kiss you two wanted to give for so long. You said everything in that kiss. You just knew this was it. This was the start of the most exciting and magical love story. And it was yours.
It was him. It has always been him. Lando. Your best friend. Him and no one else by your side.
(...)
Your eyes filled with tears of joy. You were at the wedding of one of your best friends: max verstappen. Lando was holding your hand gently and so dearly. They were speaking their vows and everything was so emotional. You were such a sensitive soul. Lando loved that about you. So pure in emotions. So vulnerable yet so strong and brave. That was you and watching the isle,he knew it was you who was gonna be there with him when the moment came around. The bride kissed the man and you two cheered the new wife and husband of the group. You looked at Lando for a moment knowing he was the love of your life and it was gonna be you two there one day.
What you did not expect was to take in your own hands the wife’s bouquet announcing you were next in line to get married. Youcelebrated in happiness and laughter around your friends and Lando. You kissed him so fondly.
“I love you bestie” you said between his lips grabbing him by the neck, the bouquet in one of your hands.
“I love you bestie, forever” he said with heart eyes hugging you looking at you with love in every fiber of his body.
“Forever and always” you assured him.
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We Fell in Love in October | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello everyone, and…
🦇🧟♀️👻🎃Happy October!🎃👻🧟♀️🦇
It is truly the most wonderful time of the year! Halloween is my favorite favorite holiday, so of course I had to write a little something. I borrowed the title from a girl in red song that I enjoy. Also, if you're a New Girl fan, parts of this plot line might be familiar to you :)
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: minor reader injury
Shrieks and laughter echoed from every direction. The smell of fresh kettle corn wafted through the crisp autumn air. And two separate groups of children in Halloween costumes almost knocked Bucky to the ground. They blew past him in a blur of candy and chaos, shouting as they ran. He was certain that a rogue kiddo had somehow smeared the sleeve of his jacket with the sticky, sugary coating of their caramel apple, but he didn’t mind.
He simply took in the sights and sounds of the Halloween carnival, smiling to himself as went out of his way to step on crunchy leaves.
Autumn was his favorite time of year- October, specifically. It was October when he first bumped into you at his favorite coffee spot, spilling your pumpkin cold brew all over your shoes. His insistent apologies and dedicated clean-up efforts endeared him to you instantly, as did his shy smile. He graciously replaced your drink and bought you a slice of spiced pumpkin bread for good measure, which you happily shared with him.
After that, Bucky knew he was done for.
He found himself spending as much time with you as possible. The two of you frequented bookstores and museums. You introduced him to a swath of movies and tv shows that he’d missed out on over the years. And he brought you back in time with each 40’s crooner he showed you on his record player. He’d never felt so comfortable, so at ease. And you returned the feeling ten-fold.
It was October of the following year when he showed up at your apartment with a massive bag of candy and a bottle of your favorite wine. He knew how much you loved Halloween and all it entailed: the movies, the décor, the spirit of the season. And he was determined to make it extra special. The two of you watched scary movies and laughed uproariously each time the other jumped. And both of you consumed so much candy, you feared you might be sick.
But that fear subsided when Bucky finally pressed his lips against yours for the first time. It took him all night to work up the courage. He found his focus drifting from Nightmare on Elm Street and settling on you. Your jack-o-lantern sweatshirt. Your slightly messy hair. Your bright smile. But he didn’t make his move- he couldn’t. He was far, far too nervous.
It wasn’t until the night came to a close that he finally found his nerve. You walked him to the door and thanked him for the candy. The wine. The company. And for making the first day of October one for the books. The goodnight hug you shared lasted longer than it ever had, and you swore he held you tighter than before.
The two of you lingered by the front door, chatting about nothing of consequence. Bucky needed to buy himself some time, and you wanted to keep him in your apartment as long as possible. You figured that if he hung around long enough, maybe he’d finally make his move.
But he left. After another long hug and some more nonsensical chatting, he bid you goodnight. He intertwined his fingers with yours for a moment, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. He gave your hand a squeeze and swept a kiss across your knuckles, and then he slipped out the door.
But before the disappointment had a chance to settle into your chest, a metallic knocking vibrated through your front door. You opened it instantly, figuring that Bucky had forgotten his phone or his keys on your coffee table.
But he wasn’t after any forgotten personal effects.
Breathlessly, he asked, “Can I?”
“Please.”
And that was it.
His mouth met yours in long, deep kiss full of want and adoration and Halloween candy. His hands cradled your face, yours twisted into the front of his t-shirt. And neither of you took a breath for a very, very long time. Only when your chest burned from lack of oxygen did you finally pull away- but it was only for a second. He greedily recaptured your lips before you even knew what happened, not that you’d ever complain about it.
And when Bucky eventually broke the kiss, you knew you this was it for you- he was it for you. He brushed his lips against your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose. And he asked you if you’d like to join him for an official date. You, of course, said yes.
Said date came only a few days later, when Bucky took you to a pumpkin patch and the two of you carved jack-o-lanterns together. You carved a rather accurate depiction of Ghost Face. And Bucky, of course, decorated his with a stick figure representation of the two of you at the coffee shop where you first met.
The night ended with a Halloween Hayride followed by a corn maze- and you swore Bucky got the two of you lost on purpose. He kept pulling you down errant pathways, insisting that they’d lead to the exit. No exit ever materialized at the end of his rogue, twisting trails. But they did provide the perfect venue for him to steal a kiss or three. And you didn’t complain once.
On October thirtieth, he asked you to be his. And you told him that you already were- you’d been his for a long time. He just didn’t know it.
It was hard for Bucky to believe that only two Octobers ago, you were a stranger. And now, you were his girl. He’d given all of himself over to you, and you accepted him with nothing but warmth and kindness and love. He couldn’t believe he’d been lucky enough to meet you, to win your affections, to call you his.
He was never a huge fan of dark, dreary, autumn, as he always preferred the warmth of summer. But meeting you was enough to turn him into fall's biggest fan. The two of you were inextricably linked to the season, turning it instantly into his number one favorite. And as he strolled through the Halloween carnival and allowed autumn to wrap around him like a blanket, he couldn’t help but feel at home.
At the sight of the Haunted House, Bucky hung a right and curved around the back of the structure. He listened to the screams and subsequent laughter of the patrons inside as he waited for you. He didn’t particularly love haunted houses, and probably never would’ve considered partaking in one if it hadn’t been for you.
“Buck!” your voice broke through the noise of the festival and pulled Bucky’s attention.
But as his head perked up, he didn’t find his best girl. No, he found only a bloody, decaying zombie sprinting in his direction. He’d never been so happy to see a monster.
“Woah! You look amazing, baby!” Bucky motioned for you to do a spin for him and admired your elaborate, almost-too-realistic make up and costume. “You’re gonna scare the hell outta these people, doll.”
A wide, satisfied smile stretched across your zombified face, “That’s the idea.”
As carefully as you could you leaned in and brushed a kiss to Bucky’s lips. Of course, you didn’t want to dirty his face with your gory make up, but you simply couldn’t resist kissing him. And you’d never want to.
“Wait, I thought Sam was coming with you,” you scanned the area, looking for Bucky’s partner in crime. “Did he change his mind?”
Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “No, he’s here. But he saw a caramel apple stand near the front of the carnival and I lost him immediately.”
Your laughed matched Bucky’s, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
Bucky eyed the haunted house, with its flashing lights and eerie exterior. It loomed over the entirety of the carnival, promising heart-stopping terror and endless fright for anyone who dared to enter. A cold sweat dampened the palm of his right hand; he swiped it on his pantleg without a word.
“So, how’s it been going, doll? Are you having a good time?”
At first, you thought it might be strange to volunteer as a scare actor. You didn’t have any experience, and didn’t think of yourself as much of a performer. But the second you saw the listing for volunteers online, the idea wormed its way into your brain and refused to leave. You always loved Halloween, always loved all things creepy. And working as a scarer for a few nights a week sounded like fun.
But it was Bucky who gave you the final push you needed. He knew you were second-guessing yourself, knew you’d talk yourself out of it if he didn’t step in. And you were grateful he’d been there to encourage you.
“I’m having the best��time! It’s been a blast so far,” the excitement radiating off of you was almost palpable. “Everyone’s so nice and we’re having so much fun. I’m really glad I decided to go through with it.”
“See? I told you,” Bucky shot you a wink. “I only wish I could’ve been here on opening night of the festival-”
“Buck, you were literally saving the world. I understand,” you told him. “There’s no hard feelings.”
“Well, I’m really happy for you sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re having a good time.” He gently placed his metallic hand on the least bloody part of your face, “And I’m so excited to see you in action.”
You gave him a strange look, “What do you mean?”
“I just mean that I can’t wait to see you doing your thing in there!” He gestured toward the haunt, “Can’t wait for you to scare me to death, baby.”
“Oh, Buck- no. I don’t-” you cut a glance toward the haunted house, knowing full well what lurked inside the walls. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? But I want to support you, doll-”
“You’re supporting me just by being here,” you leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think you should go in there, babe.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t looking forward to his trip through the haunt. Of course, he was excited to see you in your element- he just wished your element wasn't a terrifying, immersive experience.
“It’s a dark, enclosed space with blood and gore and people screaming,” you cautioned him. “And there’s actors who jump out at you from the dark. I swear, there’s one of us popping out around like, every corner.”
Bucky’s lips twisted into an uncomfortable, tense expression. He thought about what that experience might be like for him. How it might affect him. Once again, he found himself wiping his palm against his thigh.
“I just don’t want it to trigger anything for you, you know?” And you meant it. A trip through your stupid haunted house wasn’t worth his mental health.
He forced the tension out of his face and blanketed his features with a manufactured calm. You were always so supportive of him, always did your best to be there for him. And it was his turn to be there for you. What kind of boyfriend was he if he couldn’t even see you perform? Sure, going inside the haunt wasn’t his idea of a perfect evening, but he owed it to you.
“Yeah, but I’ve been through way worse, sweetheart. I can- I can handle a haunted house.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince- you or himself. “As long as there isn’t a Hydra torture chamber scene, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Well, I assure you there is not a Hydra torture chamber in there, but I still think you should think it over before you go inside. Okay?” You knew Bucky too well. Knew he’d do anything to make you happy- even if it meant sacrificing his peace. But he’d worked so hard to find that peace, and you couldn’t let him shatter it just for you. “I won’t be disappointed or get my feelings hurt if you decide not to go inside, I promise. I just want you to have a fun night without any pain or flashbacks or panic attacks.”
Bucky found nothing but authenticity in your voice. You weren’t just saying these things, or secretly hoping that he’d still venture into the haunt. No, you meant everything you said; you just wanted what was best for him. Wanted him to enjoy himself. And he was endlessly grateful for your understanding. For your kindness.
“Shit. Alright, I-” you looked down at your phone and sighed at the new text illuminating your screen, “I have to get back inside, my break’s over. Sorry, baby.”
“No, doll, don’t worry about it. Sorry I monopolized your entire break.”
“Are you kidding me?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “this was exactly how I wanted to spend it.”
He pulled you in for deep- yet careful- kiss. He didn’t want to mess up the makeup you’d worked so hard on but couldn’t let you go back inside without a kiss.
“Just promise me you’ll think it over before you actually go inside the haunt, okay?” You eyed him with a serious, almost grave expression. “There won’t be any hard feelings if you sit this one out.”
“I promise,” he said. “And to tell you the truth, I’m- I’m thinking I might just stick to carnival games and funnel cake.”
A massive sigh of relief left your chest. The worry you’d been holding onto dissipated into the chilly autumnal air. And suddenly, nothing sounded better than cheap, rigged carnival games.
“See, now that sounds like fun.” You left one more kiss to Bucky’s lips before heading toward your next shift. “Have a good time tonight, Buck.”
Bucky watched your bloody form receded toward the haunt. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about your warnings, your cautionary words. You really did care about him. You loved him more than anyone ever had. And you always, always put him first. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to express how grateful he was to have you. And as he observed the way you went out of your path just to step on the crunchiest leaves you could find, he knew the two of you were perfectly suited.
“Baby!” Bucky called after you as you reached the back door of the haunt.
You turned.
“Do you still wanna come over later?” he shouted over the noise of the festival.
Your “DUH!” echoed across the distance. And then you disappeared inside.
“Aw, man. Did I miss her?” Sam appeared just behind Bucky, two caramel apples in hand.
“Yeah, she had to get back to work. Oh-” Bucky reached for the apple in Sam’s right hand, the one that hadn’t yet been marred by Sam’s teeth. “Is this for me? Thanks, I-”
“Um, no,” Sam yanked the treat out of Bucky’s reach. “These are both mine.”
Bucky scoffed, “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’re actually double-fisting caramel apples right now?”
Sam gave a confident nod and took a bite out of one of the treats. “Leave me alone, man. I’m just participating in the spirit of Halloween.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics. “Okay, well then, I’m gonna go get one of my own. Are you coming?”
Sam tilted his head to the side and gestured toward the haunt with one of his apples. “Aren’t we going inside now that she’s back on shift?”
Bucky gave the unsettling building a long look. He really did want to support you- but he just couldn’t bring himself to willingly venture into that environment. He thought back on what you said: Dark. Enclosed space. Blood. Gore. People jumping out of the darkness. It was the perfect recipe for a flashback. He could practically feel his PTSD crawling out of the darkest corners of his mind, waiting to pounce.
“Um, no, actually. I’m not- I’m not gonna go in,” Bucky said. “I was cautioned against it by a very sweet, very beautiful zombie.”
It didn’t quite make sense to Sam. “She doesn’t want you to go inside?”
“She said it’s just not the best idea. The way she described it, I know it’s not gonna be a good experience for me,” a sad smile pulled at Bucky’s features. “Plus, I don’t know how I’m gonna react to bloody people popping out of the shadows and screaming at me. I feel like my training- or my PTSD- is gonna kick in and I might hit first and ask questions later,” he shrugged. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”
Sam didn’t suspect that Bucky would actually harm any of the actors; he trusted Bucky more than Bucky trusted himself. But he wasn’t going to push. If there was any possibility that the things inside the haunt might send Bucky into a spiral, he was happy to steer clear.
“Alright, yeah, we can- we can go play some games instead,” Sam suggested. “And you can win your girl a prize. Come on.”
Sam pointed Bucky in the direction of the carnival games- but not before he granted Bucky his second apple.
“Wilson… I’m touched,” Bucky took a huge bite of the tart, sticky treat. “This is real friendship.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you’re getting the next round.”
The two of them set off in the direction of the large array of carnival booths, both happily gnawing on a caramel apple. Bucky was grateful to have two people in his life who truly cared about his mental health. Two people who never forced him into situations that had the potential to rip open his old wounds.
And though Bucky wished he could visit you inside the haunt, he knew it was better this way. If he chose to experience the haunted house and ended up having a violent flashback or a panic attack, he knew it would ruin your night. You’d spend the entire evening taking care of him, looking after him, worrying about him- you’d completely abandon your post inside the haunted house, and he couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t take away your Halloween fun, especially not when you’d just told him what a blast it all was.
No, he’d instead spend the evening playing shitty carnival games, drinking pumpkin beer, and betting Sam that he couldn’t eat another caramel apple. And later, after you’d finished your night of scaring, he’d welcome you into his apartment and spend the rest of his evening snuggled up with you on the couch. He’d make a batch of spiced apple cider and curl up with you under a blanket. And the two of you would fall asleep while Scream played in the background.
Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.
Around ten-thirty, a quiet knock pulled Bucky from his book. He dropped it on the coffee table- taking no care to mark his page- and dashed toward the front door. He couldn’t wait to ask you a million questions. To hear your stories from the night. But when he threw open the door, he didn’t find the smiling zombie he’d seen just a few hours ago.
Something about you seemed off. Almost hollow. But Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was certain you had to be tired- exhausted, really. You’d spent hours chasing after your victims and screaming at the top of your lungs. Surely, you were just worn out.
“Hey, Buck,” you did your best to force a smile, but it wasn’t at all convincing.
“Hey, baby,” Bucky pulled you into his body without caring that you were still covered in a thick layer of fake blood and zombie make up. “You good?”
You nodded against his chest, “Yeah. Just tired.”
Bucky felt his worry recede a bit- but it didn’t vanish completely. He took you by the hand and brought you inside, but didn’t pepper you with questions like he’d planned. All of his wonderings could wait until after you got a well-deserved night of rest.
“I was thinking I could make us some spiced apple cider,” Bucky offered, “But if you’d rather just go to sleep, I can save that for tomorrow. What do you think, doll?”
“Um, whatever you wanna do, babe,” you rummaged through your overnight bag and unearthed your toiletry bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower and take off my make up.”
Without another word, you retreated down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. Something about your demeanor didn’t sit right with Bucky. This wasn’t just exhaustion; something darker lurked beneath your still waters. But he opted to give you your space. He didn’t want to delay your shower; surely, you wanted to shed your grime and get comfortable. And once you’d emerged from your clean up, he’d once again ask about your well-being. But not a moment before.
He quickly changed shirts, shedding the one that he’d willingly dirtied by hugging you, and went to work on the cider. Even if you only wanted a sip or two before bed, that was enough for him. He didn’t mind putting in the effort if there was even a chance it might make you smile- he’d do anything to see that smile. To make you happy.
“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you padded down the hall half an hour later. “Getting all of the blood and make up off is kind of a process.”
At the sound of your voice, Bucky rose from his seat in the kitchen and met you in the hall with a mug of hot cider, which you accepted.
“Don’t worry about it, doll. I was just-” a smiled flashed across his face, “Oh, sweetheart, it looks like you missed some.”
Some of the blueish purple make up still stained your cheek and tainted the skin around your eye. A bit of fake blood ran through your brow. And clearly, you’d forgotten to remove one of your bloody contacts.
“Here, let me.” He raised his hand to your cheek and tried to swipe the remaining make up from your skin with his thumb, but you yanked your head away.
Pain burned in Bucky’s chest. You’d never flinched like that around him. Never once did you dodge his touch or fear that he might hurt you. You always said you didn’t see him as a threat, didn’t think of him as a monster. What had happened in the last few hours that changed the way you saw him?
He felt himself teetering on the edge of heartbreak, but the puzzle pieces fell together before he had the chance to fall apart. He didn’t recall you wearing bloody special effects contacts earlier tonight. And your zombie make up hadn’t been that shade of indigo.
Bucky flipped on the hall light, bathing your face in a warm glow. He carefully raised his palms in a wordless promise that he wouldn’t hurt you. And once you gave him a small nod, he gently cradled your face in his hands. He carefully turned your head toward the light, allowing him a good, clear look at the marks on your face.
And what he found ripped open a pit in his stomach. You didn’t flinch because you feared him- no, you flinched because you were hurt.
A large, dark blue bruise bloomed under the skin of your cheekbone. And another bruise stained your orbital purple. The area was already swelling, and Bucky couldn’t help but think about how much pain you were in. A gash sliced through your eyebrow, just above your blackened eye. And unfortunately, the blood staining the white of your eye wasn’t part of a creepy contact lens- it was real. It was all real.
“Shit. Baby, what happened?”
“I’m fine,” you lied.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky insisted.
A few tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. You spent your entire ride to Bucky’s telling yourself that you were fine. That you were okay. That it was just some bruising. That crying wouldn’t fix anything. You told yourself that people go through way worse every day- that Bucky had been through way, way worse for almost a century. You told yourself that it wasn’t a big deal. That getting emotional over something so small was unnecessarily dramatic.
But Bucky automatically validated you- without even knowing it.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
You cut a glance to the side- which only made your eye throb. “Um, there was this guy who came through the haunt. And when I jumped out at him, he um,” you shrugged. “He hit me.”
A hurricane of emotion ripped through Bucky. He was horrified. Concerned. Wrathful. Heartbroken. All at once.
“He hit me twice, actually…” You knew it would only make Bucky more upset. But what was the point of hiding the truth? He was going to be distraught either way. “He hit me here first,” you pointed at your cheek. “And then the second time, he got me in the eye. He had one of those big, collegiate class rings on- that’s what sliced my eyebrow open.”
“Jesus. Okay, um, you hang tight right here. I’m gonna grab my keys and some shoes- I need to get you to the emergency room,” Bucky threw his attention down the hall, searching for his keys.
“I don’t need to go to the ER-”
“Then I’m at least taking you to a minor emergency clinic,” Bucky insisted. “You need to be seen by-”
“The medic at the carnival already gave me a once over,” you rested a hand against his chest, calming him. “She said I’m fine. The cut doesn’t need stitches. I just have a minor concussion.”
Bucky stared at you for a long moment while a war raged inside his head. He knew you were okay, that your life wasn’t in danger. And he could tell you were too tired for an unnecessary trip to the hospital. But he’d feel more comfortable if a doctor took a look at you. If he had a guarantee that you’d be alright.
“I promise I’m okay,” you told him. “I really just wanna rest.”
And after another long moment of internally weighing the pros and cons, Bucky conceded.
“Okay. Here, I’ll take that,” he took your mug of cider and placed it on the hall table. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Bucky took you by the hand and led you to the living room. He got you situated on the couch and draped a blanket over your lap.
“He actually tried to hit me a third time,” you said. “I was already on the ground at that point. But he still went for it.”
You didn’t mean to sound so wounded. So pathetic. But part of you was still in shock. And the other part was heartbroken that one person had ruined your entire experience.
“Thankfully, a few of the other actors got to him before he had the chance to actually make contact again.”
Bucky thought he might be sick. “What the fuck?”
You shrugged, “I’m not… I don’t know.”
“Um, do you need- I’m gonna get you some ice, okay?” He didn’t want to leave your side, but he could practically feel the throbbing, pounding pain hammering inside your head. And when he returned from the kitchen with an ice pack, some Tylenol, and a glass of water, he took a seat next to you.
“Why would he- he knew he was going into a haunted house. Why would he hit you?” Bucky couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He knew it was possible that the trauma from his Hydra days could make him lash out inside the haunt, so he chose to abstain. Why your assailant hadn’t done the same baffled him.
“And why would he hit you multiple times?”
You shook your head and instantly regretted it as pain surged through your face. “I mean, they say ‘fight or flight.’ He clearly chose fight.”
“But after the initial hit, the shock and fear would’ve worn off,” Bucky reasoned. “He would’ve been able to recognize that he wasn’t actually in danger. That you were an actor, not a threat.” He sighed, “At least, he should’ve been able to figure that out.”
With a swig of water, you downed the pain relievers and sunk back into the couch cushions. The ice stung against your tender, pulsing wounds and you hissed at the sensation. But as the cold rendered your face completely numb, you recanted your initial, ungrateful thoughts.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking,” you rolled your eyes. It sent pain rocketing through your skull. “One of the guys that pulled him off of me said the guy was slurring his words pretty badly and absolutely reeked of beer.”
“Oh, perfect,” Bucky clenched his hands into tight fists. “Did anything happen to him? Is he gonna face any consequences?”
You offered him a downtrodden half-shrug. “I’m not sure. There were some security guards who escorted him out, but that’s all I know.”
Bucky leaned over and brushed a light kiss to your cheek- the one that hadn’t been marred by stranger’s fist. A razor-sharp feeling of helplessness carved deep into his flesh until it struck bone. He had a duty to you, and felt as though he’d failed. He couldn’t save you. Couldn’t protect you. Couldn’t even take you to the emergency room.
All he could do at this point was try his best make you feel comfortable. Safe. And above all, he had to take care of you.
Alarm struck him in the chest as he noticed what appeared to be a fresh drop of scarlet oozing from your brow. He stood from the couch with worry pulsing through his veins. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna go get some supplies to tend to your cut. Okay? You stay here, I’ll be-”
“No, that’s okay, Buck. It’s not that bad,” you shook your head, rejecting his offer; the throbbing inside your skull multiplied.
“Baby, you’re bleeding…”
“What?” you removed the ice pack from your face and used your free hand to swipe a finger across your brow- only to find a warm, sticky sensation. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. My face is numb,” you brandished the ice pack at him.
Bucky’s soft laugh filled the room, “I guess that’s a good thing?”
You gave him a careful nod. “Definitely.”
“Sit tight, doll. It’ll only take me a second.”
And he was right. He was only gone a few moments at the most; anything more than that felt unjustifiable.
“Alright, let me see,” Bucky took a seat on the coffee table and placed his first aid supplies down next to him. As carefully as he could, he took your face in his hands and appraised your wound. He used gentle pressure to hold a piece of clean gauze against the bloody ooze. And though the cut wasn’t severe, it didn’t stop the dread from circling him like a vulture.
“I should’ve stuck around longer,” he lamented. “I should’ve stayed at the festival. Maybe I could’ve helped you somehow. Maybe I could’ve-”
Your hands found his forearms and wrapped gently around his wrists. “No, Buck. I didn’t want you going inside the haunt, regardless. Even if it was only to be my knight in shining armor.”
He stroked along your jaw with his cold, metallic thumb. “You always put me first, don’t you?”
“Of course,” you swept your thumbs over his skin, “I’d never dream of having it any other way.”
If there was one thing Bucky could count on, it was being your first priority. He’d never imagined he’d meet anyone who valued him. Who saw his worth. But you did- you always did. And you placed him proudly on a pedestal as your number one. Nothing came before him; nothing could take his place. He mattered more to you than anything or anyone ever had.
You were the kindest, most understanding person he’d ever met. You saw the good in everyone, even if they couldn’t see it themselves. And knowing that someone hurt you, that you were shown anything other than gentleness, killed him.
“Baby, I’m- I’m so sorry this happened. You didn’t deserve it.”
You poked at the ice pack resting in your lap, “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not ideal. But I’m not dying, or anything.” Your gaze dropped to the floor, “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Hey, look at me,” Bucky waited for your eyes to meet his, but had no luck. “Sweetheart, can you look at me? Please?”
After another long moment, you finally dragged your eyes upward. Bucky instantly clocked the tears gathering along your lash line.
“I know you’re not dying; I know this isn’t life threatening- but it’s still a big deal,” he said. “What happened is not okay. And you don’t have to pretend like it is.”
You rolled your eyes, sending a tear trailing down your cheek. “But you’ve been through a lot worse. I got punched- so what?” You scoffed, “You were abused for close to a hundred years. What happened to me isn’t-”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset,” he said. “You don’t have to compare your life to mine, sweetheart. No one should’ve laid a hand on you- tonight or ever.” He searched your face for a long moment, “Okay?”
It took a while for his words to sink in. For you to believe them. Rebuttals formed on your tongue every few seconds, but the concern in Bucky’s eyes banished them.
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief left his chest, and he delivered a long kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to diminish the events of the evening all because of him. Didn’t want you constantly using his suffering as a litmus test for your own. He knew you’d never consider your trauma as worthwhile if it always had to stand up to his.
With a fresh piece of gauze, he swiped the tears from your eyes. “Good. I love you.”
This wasn’t what you expected out of life. You were the last of your friends to find something real. To find someone worthwhile. And you assumed you’d missed your window. All of your exes treated you like you barely existed. Like you weren’t worth their time. None of them were ever concerned about your happiness or your well-being. And after dating more assholes than you could count, you resigned yourself to a life without romantic love.
And then Bucky spilled coffee all over your shoes, and you’d never been happier to have stained sneakers.
Bucky used a butterfly bandage to carefully close your cut and fetched you a fresh cup of cider. He took care of you in a way you’d never experienced. In a way you’d never thought possible. And after the night you had, all you wanted was to curl up on the couch with him. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms and forget all about what happened.
But just as Bucky took his rightful place next to you on the couch, he was gone.
“Buck, where are you-”
“I almost forgot!” he called from down the hall. And just as quickly as he vanished, he reappeared with his hands behind his back. “Those carnival games are really hard- I mean, really fucking hard. And it took me all night, but I won this for you.”
With a quiet “Ta-da!” he revealed his prize and held it out for you.
“I know he’s kind of ugly,” Bucky laughed, “But-”
“He’s not ugly!” You snatched the prize and held it close to your chest.
It was a little black teddy bear with orange spots- and upon further inspection, the orange spots appeared to be jack-o-lanterns. An orange and black plaid bow sat perched around the bear’s neck, and a tiny witch’s hat rested atop his head.
“Buck, he’s perfect,” you reached for him, pulling him down for a long, deep kiss before he even had the chance to sit. “I love him!”
“I’m so glad, it took me longer to win him than I’d like to admit,” Bucky laughed. “I’m sure Sam will happily tell you all about it.”
Once again, you captured Bucky’s lips with yours. Sure, you were exhausted. And hurting. And sad. But as Bucky’s hand cradled your face, and the prize he’d worked so hard to win for you rested against your chest, the pain of the evening melted away.
“Thank you, Buck.”
He shot you a wink, “Anytime, I-”
“I mean it,” you abandoned your new teddy bear for only a second and took one of Bucky’s hands in both of yours. It took most of your strength, but you finally got him to take his spot next to you on the couch, “Thank you.”
His arm snaked around you and pulled you tightly into his side. “I’ve always got your back, baby.”
With your new teddy bear resting in your lap, you snuggled as close to Bucky as you possibly could. He brought you a sense of peace, a sense of safety that you’d never experienced before. All he ever wanted to do was take care of you, and you thanked the universe every day for granting you someone so gentle and kind and sweet.
Bucky put on a classic Halloween movie from your childhood, Halloweentown, to help you feel a little more at ease. And it came as no surprise to him that you were asleep less than fifteen minutes in, but he didn’t mind. He simply pulled you into his chest and carefully carried you to bed- along with your new stuffed animal.
And as he climbed in next to you, he couldn’t have been more grateful for your cautionary words about the haunt. He thought about how different the night could’ve been, how much worse things might’ve gone had he stepped foot inside the dark, scary environment. What if he had a bad reaction and hurt one of your coworkers? What if he hurt you? If he’d been the one to strike you in the dark, you absolutely would’ve required an ambulance and a hospital stay.
Just thinking about his metal fist connecting with your face made him nauseous. With a shake of his head, he forced the thoughts away. You were okay, you were right there next to him, sleeping soundly with your teddy bear tucked safely in your arms. He eyed you in the light of the moon, and thanked any deity who would listen for keeping him out of the haunt.
Just as he considered allowing his eyes to close, you moved. You loosened your grip on your bear and let him fall to the side as your sleepy hands searched for Bucky. He moved closer to you and watched with a smile as you draped your body over his. A tired, contented sigh fell from your lips, and Bucky thought his heart might melt.
He knew he didn’t deserve you. Knew he’d done so much wrong in his life. But now that you were his, he’d spend every day trying to protect you. Trying to make you happy.
He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. He was already planning to offer you a ring next October- doing so during any other month felt like sacrilege.
————————————-
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worshipping the chthonic gods
first, a note on cthonic vs ouranic: the line between these gods is one that is not really as stark as it can be portrayed. many gods have both ouranic and chthonic aspects, and neither make them any more "good" or "bad" than the other. chthonic gods are not evil gods, at least no more than any ouranic god. all deities have the capability of doing good and evil, but are largely ambivalent in nature. the advice listed below is not set in stone, simply provided as gentle guidance. if you have suggestions, feel free to add them in the comments/reblogs! :)
LIBATIONS/OFFERINGS
In Ancient Greece it was very common for offerings to the chthonic gods to be given in the form of libation--a drink (or any liquid) poured into the ground. Solid offerings, like food, were often burned in their entirety to ash or left to rot, instead of being partially shared by the offeror. Incense was not as commonly used since the smoke travels upwards, towards the heavens.
I suggest disposing of/keeping ashes and rotted food outside or burying them, seeing as chthonic sometimes refers to "-of the earth." This would be similar to how curse tablets were treated in Ancient Greece, as Hermes, messenger of the gods, would deliver them unto their underworld-ly receiver from there.
If you can't do that, consider pouring your libations down the sink or flushing them down the toilet (ONLY do this with water-based liquids, oil and honey will clog up your sink in no time flat). It's not ideal, but it gets the job done.
Common libations include: coffee, blood (animal or your own, we'll get to that at the end), honey (instead of wine), milk
Common offerings include: meat, barley/grain, oil, cheese
PRAYER
In many cases, prayers to ouranic deities are directed upwards, into the sky or delivered unto the wind by voice, song, or some sort of poem. In the case of the chthonic gods, we should be directing them downwards, towards the underworld where they reside. This may include extending your hands with palms facing down, putting your head down, or just imagining your prayers being sent below. The only exceptions to this may be Persephone, who resides in the heavens for half of the year, and Hermes, who can be considered both ouranic and chthonic.
Other recommendations I can make are: light a candle, even if you're not going to use it for pyromancy; light some incense (I do this for focus and cleansing, not so much for the deity); and perform it at night. It's not mandatory, of course, to perform your prayers at night, it's just that in antiquity ouranic activities (festivals, prayer, etc.) were done during the day and often directly enshrouded in sunlight. We can assume, therefore, that a chthonic prayer or festival should occur during the night, especially if being directed towards Hekate or Nyx.
ALTARS/SHRINES
In Ancient Greece, temples to the ouranic gods were constructed so that their doorways would directly face the sun, thus illuminating the inside (and often the main statue(s), too). We can assume, then, that our chthonic altars/shrines should be located somewhere out of the direct sunlight. This can be in a dark spot, like a closet or isolated room--or it can just simply be in a corner furthest from the sun's rays.
Again, there may be some exceptions to this: Hermes, under his ouranic epithet(s), Persephone, for her time in the heavens, and Hekate, for her association with the moon.
DIVINATION
For the most part divination with the chthonic gods is conducted in much the same way as with the ouranic. Of course, when calling upon these deities you'll want to face towards the ground, and perhaps even conduct these sessions in partial darkness. Again, maybe you could light a candle or even pour a libation before a really big reading.
I mostly use pendulums and tarot, but I've been experimenting with meditation and have had some luck. What works for ouranic deities should work just as good for chthonic, you just might have to shift your approach a little.
Some good tarot spreads for working with chthonic deities:
"Fork in the Road" spread-- for Hermes or Hekate
"The Tower" spread-- for Hermes or Hades
"The Self Exploration" spread-- for any
"The Bat" spread-- for Hades or Persephone or Nyx
EXTRAS
--Consider offering blood if you're able! Animal blood that is sourced from ethical farms is neither morally reprehensible or illegal and can be sourced from a variety of places. Offering your own blood is also a possibility, but for this I would not recommend more than a pinprick. There are limits to how much pain you should be incurring on yourself for your deities. If you have to check your blood sugar often, maybe you can soak up excess blood with some cotton and bury it outside. Make sure to always clean your wounds properly and do not engage in this behavior for the purpose of self-mutilation. That, I can assure you, your deities would not appreciate. Don't be stupid.
--Snakes are commonly associated with almost all chthonic deities, or just the Underworld in general. We see this the most with Hermes, who is pictured with two snakes wrapped around his caduceus. The god Asclepius is also pictured with a staff with a single snake on it. Asclepius is the god of medicine, and (before being deified) was killed by Zeus for making people practically immortal.
--Chthonic deities are the best places to turn to for spirit work, protective, and baneful magic. You're looking to contact a spirit? Turn to Hades. You're looking for protection against spirits/demons? Turn to Hekate or Hermes. You're looking to cast a curse? Turn to Persephone or Hekate.
dividers by @vibeswithrenai
#ancient greece#ancient greek#chthonic deities#greek gods#greek mythology#hellenic deities#hellenic pagan#hellenic polytheism#hellenic worship#hellenism#witchblr#witch#witchcraft#witches#witch community#magic#magick#wicca#grimoire#helpol#greek deities#deity worship#deity work#paganism#deities#paganblr#pagan#pagan community#pagan witch#polytheist
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could you perhaps do a spencer x fem reader based on the song ‘i miss you, i’m sorry’ by gracie abrams? 🤍🤍
back to you.
upon your return after a year of working outside the bau, everyone welcomes you back with open arms – everyone except for one agent.
pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader
warnings :: angst, drinking, reader gets drunk, confessions and lots of apologizing
word count :: 2.9k
author’s note :: such a lovely request! this stretched out to be a lot longer than i had initially planned for, but what can i say, the song lyrics kept inspiring me to write more
accompanying song :: i miss you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
do you remember happy together?
can we start over?
those were the four words you wanted to say, but you chose to remain silent instead.
the guilt piled and eventually torched your heart when it became too much to bear. you preserved whatever was left of your sanity by flooding your bloodstream with three cups’ worth of caffeine, deciding to pay the price with jittery fingers.
you had just spent the past eight months working a leadership position at the doj, and out of all of the decisions you’ve ever made in your life, this was your most regrettable one by far. sure, there were a lot of benefits that came with your elevated status – your bank balance certainly thanked you for it – but you missed out on too much.
you missed out on all of your coffee outings with the girls. you missed out on dinners with the entire team, where you would’ve brought your charcuterie board and downed your stress with red wine and endless rounds of poker. you missed out on everything that you would’ve marked your calendar for – trips to the mall, the fishing pier, the fancy dinner place a few blocks away from the office.
but nothing pained you more than your missed days with spencer. the thought bugged you every day, and you could do nothing to ignore it.
because how could you not regret it, the weekly strolls to the library with a cup of coffee in hand and his scarf wrapped tightly around you, his scent nuzzling against you?
memories of that day haunt you like it’s yesterday.
—
“spence, i don’t need the scarf. the coffee’s keeping me warm just fine.”
your brown-haired coworker scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets while his gaze fell onto the pavement.
walking side-by-side with him always felt surreal. his voice blew past your hair and drifted into your eardrums as your feet hit the soft grass, your boots slightly wet from the sprinklers tending the green.
“do i need to remind you that you were sick four days ago?”
you couldn’t help the faint blush from creeping up your cheeks when he turned to meet your gaze with his rounded eyes. you wanted to call him out because his ears were tinged with bright red from the cold air, but you stayed put. your flushed cheeks grew even hotter when his shaky hands dragged up your shoulders and cinched the scarf tighter around your neck.
“besides, natural fibers work wonders at keeping moisture away from the body.”
his slight rasp sent shivers down your skin, and scratched the back of your mind just right.
the urge to grab him and kiss him tugged at your fingers like an itchy scab, but you chose not to scratch it.
thought you'd hate me
maybe he was the reason you decided to come back.
you couldn’t bear the same routine any longer, cramped up inside an office with no place to go besides the dimly lit room of your bare apartment still filled with unpacked moving boxes.
you didn’t have much luck making friends at your new workplace, and you threw the idea of finding a potential date out the window.
and even after eight months, you couldn’t shake his crestfallen face from your mind.
—
“you’re leaving?”
spencer’s eyes immediately tore away from his book and landed on you, his lips slightly parted.
“in- in a week. yes, i’m leaving.”
you looked down at the ground and tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ears several times. an uncomfortable silence filled the air.
“how long has it been since you… accepted the offer?”
you paused before glancing up. the twinkle that always sits in his eyes seemed to gain an extra edge in that moment, and it was almost scary, how he stared at you so inscrutably.
“two weeks,” you said truthfully and looked down again, because you didn’t have it in yourself to hold his gaze.
from your peripheral vision, you noticed how his knuckles were almost white from the sheer force with which he was gripping his book. you bit down on the insides of your cheek, hard.
“i didn’t know you were thinking of other options,” he muttered lowly, and your heart instantly dropped.
“it was a good offer, spence. a really good one. i-”
“yeah, i hope it was a good offer. i mean, i don’t know how much of a role we played in your decision, but i’m happy for you. congrats.”
you blinked a few times while his words echoed in your mind. his quick-witted response heavy with bitter undertones flooded you with the most intense feelings of remorse and guilt.
“this wasn’t an easy decision, if that’s what you’re talking about. spence, you’re like family to me, and leaving this all behind… i thought about this day and night.”
“you know, it’s kind of funny how you say that we’re like family, because a family would do everything to stay together. but then again, maybe i’m the exception.”
you really didn’t have anything to say after that.
he completely annihilated and swept through you, and still finished you off by walking past you to snatch his bag and leave the office.
you should’ve told him before.
but then he would’ve convinced you, and you knew that it wouldn’t take much to be coaxed into staying, especially when it was spencer. you consulted your parents and emily instead, and they all urged you not to overthink.
but that day, you were convinced you had it all wrong.
i still love you, i promise
you could feel the tears surface almost immediately when you wrap your hands around emily’s back in a heartfelt embrace.
“how do you feel?” she pulls back and reaches into her pocket to hand you your id.
you take it from her slowly, tracing your fingers over the edges while staring at the words ‘special agent’ next to your signature.
“i feel-” you shake your head in disbelief, “so happy to be back.”
you don’t know if you sound as excited as you’re claiming yourself to be, but emily doesn’t pry into it.
“seems like you’re stuck with us no matter what,” she chuckles, and then clasps her hand around your wrist. “come on, everyone’s waiting for you.”
you heard them before you saw their faces.
the garish papers and sparkling trails of glitter land at your feet the moment the elevator doors open, and a striking pop sounds before a flurry of celebratory squeals and claps echo left and right.
“oh you, come over here!” penelope scurries over to you and sweeps you in a tight hug, and the others join in to clobber you with pats and playful pushes.
emily leads you into the office while everyone trails behind you excitedly, and stops to gesture towards a table decorated with your nameplate. you step back in awe.
“the table’s perfect.”
you smile and set your bag down to brandish your nameplate at the others.
“i know! and guess who’s across from you.” jj laughs and moves her brows up and down, causing you to shift your glance at the surrounding desks.
and right across from you, you see it. the table, lined with books at every edge; the empty coffee mug; the nameplate.
as if right on cue, the office doors swing open, and the subject of your thoughts walks in.
you instantly feel the pang of guilt when his excited gaze turns into a vacant stare, when he realizes the source of rapture coming from inside the office is you.
his eyes flicker up and down and his stare almost feels chilling. you need him to break the cold and say something. anything.
your team somehow makes it even worse by reading your silence as a desire to be left alone. they nod and point to the roundtable upstairs before whizzing up the stairs and disappearing behind the blinds, leaving you to face the man you haven’t seen in eight months alone.
“you’re back.”
spencer says it with a voice so quiet, with a pace so swift, with a tone so flat, you don’t know if you’d be able to catch that it’s him if it isn’t for his face.
you don’t want his impassive tone to dictate the mood for the conversation when you’ve just hauled your feet all the way back, so you clear your throat and open your mouth to speak.
“i am. it’s nice to see you again.”
he stiffens. his reaction is a bitter pill to swallow.
“spencer,” you start, eyeing the vein marking the side of his forehead, “you- i’m probably the last person you want to see right now. i’m really sorry about last time.”
the unwavering expression on his face is unsparing, but you aren’t going to look away abashed.
“i just wanted to say that you were right. i should’ve never left in the first place. i hated every second of work there, and believe me when i say that i didn’t hesitate when emily asked if i wanted to come back.”
he could pierce your heart with his silent stare.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t tell you earlier. but i knew, i knew that if i consulted you i would’ve turned it down.”
you take a deep breath.
“i missed you so much, but i just didn’t have it in me to tell you that because i thought you’d still be mad, and you’re probably still really mad at me right now so it’s okay if you don’t say anything because i understand, i know that i’d be mad if i were in your place, but i just wanted to make it clear that i’m not going to leave again-”
“stop.”
he cuts you off, but the rattles of your apologies continue to drift in the back of your mind.
he tears his gaze away from you and shakes his head.
“i need some time… to think about this.”
without waiting for a response, he turns and walks off, up the stairs and away to regroup with the rest of the team. he doesn’t see the tears that cascade down your flushed face.
think i’ll make it worse
“great work today.”
hotch nods at you with a warm smile before he steps out, leaving you to be the last one in the office.
walking over to your desk, you carefully pull out a large bottle of wine from a bag that rossi left earlier as a welcome-back gift.
you make your way to the shared kitchen, and sigh happily when you find the corkscrew in the same drawer as before – a subtle reminder that some things haven’t changed. inserting the lever arm into the cork, you twist and pull until it lifts from the bottle with a satisfying pop.
without pouring the wine into a spare glass, you shuffle your feet until you reach the stairs, and plop down on the raised steps.
you take a small sip of the wine, savoring the taste as the liquid sloshes around in your mouth, and recall the events of earlier.
stop.
you take another sip.
i need some time.
you attach your lips to the mouth of the bottle and take a large gulp.
i need some time… to think about this.
you guzzle the wine without a single care, without considering the fact that your car’s still parked outside and that you need to get home somehow.
you drink until your lips stain with the color of dark purple, until you can smell the alcohol rubbed deep in your skin, and until you collapse to your hands and knees.
—
spencer hadn’t initially planned to go back to the office that night.
but when he rang your cell five times and each call sent him straight to voicemail, he knew something wasn’t right.
he was never good at verbalizing apologies, so he was just going to leave a letter on your desk to find in the morning. the two of you would address everything then.
because the truth was that he could never stay mad at you. he just needed to prepare himself, to be able to see your face again without feeling the heavy crash of emotions.
but when he turned up to the office and noticed the lights were still on, suspicious thoughts clouded his brain.
hesitantly, he curled his fingers around the handles of the door and opened it.
he saw the empty wine bottle first, which had rolled its way to the entrance of the office and stopped at his feet.
crouching, he took the bottle in his palm and examined it before confusedly clicking his tongue and setting it on top of the kitchen table.
but then he saw you, slumped over the stairs, your face sinking into your dress shirt stained with drops of purple.
he dropped everything and ran, ran as fast as he could, to your side.
i miss you, i'm sorry
you hear the soft swearing and realize you’re not alone, but you’re too drunk – too tired – to match the face to the fuzzy figure crouched beside you.
“have you been drinking this entire time?”
is that spencer? it’s surely his voice.
“spencer? oh my god, what- why are you here?”
he waves the bottle you had just downed in your face, and your hands instinctively move to reach for it. he pulls it away from you.
“did you just finish all of this?”
you give a lopsided smile and blink slowly. “oh, i swear it was just one sip.”
that’s the only confirmation he needs.
spencer tuts and sighs. he’s about to murmur a few words of disapproval when your head falls and you lurch forward, but he catches you just in time. with his palms cupping the sides of your face, he gently lowers you onto his lap.
“how were you going to get home?”
his voice brushes against you like feathers. damn it, he sounds intoxicating.
you smile sleepily. “what are you talking about? i am home.”
spencer frowns.
“no, your home is twenty minutes away from here. you’re still at the office.”
the office lights are too bright for you to handle, you move your hand to shield your eyes. spencer takes note of this, and moves his head over to cast his shadows onto your face.
“no,” you breathe, “i’m right where i belong. with you.”
that’s not the answer he’s expected at all. his throat constricts and for a second, he’s glad you’re too drunk to notice the blush spreading across his face.
“did you mean it?”
you furrow your brows in confusion. “what?”
“did you mean it when you said you missed me?”
you let out a hushed laugh. “did you want me to say something else?”
spencer shakes his head. “i just want to know if you really meant-”
“god, spence, you look so kissable right now.”
he gulps.
he never thought the word kissable would ever tumble from your pretty lips, let alone be directed towards him. never, not in a million years.
“stop,” is all he can come up with.
“do you know who i missed the most when i left?”
he knows where this is going, and he needs to stop you before you spill too much. for your own good.
“let’s get you up.”
“you. it’s always been you.”
he doesn’t want to give in to your bubbly laughs, your soft tugs at his shirt, your face nuzzling into his lap.
“after i left,” you continue to drawl your words with clarity only slightly greater than that of a burble, “i came to realize something.”
he doesn’t need to ask. he doesn’t need to know more.
“what?”
he wants to know more.
“i can’t love anyone else.” you blink. “it has to be you. loving you is just that easy.”
you’re persistent. you flip onto your stomach and plant a kiss on his lap before slowly sitting up and staring intently into his eyes.
you’re drunk.
this isn't right.
spencer shakes his head as if to warn you, to give you your last chance to back down.
you have to thank the alcohol for stripping you of all your nerves. “did you miss me?”
that, he can answer. spencer nods.
“say it back,” you whisper, gently tugging the collar of his shirt.
a blush heats his cheeks. “i missed you.”
you move closer, until your lips are less than an inch from his left ear. “how much?”
seeing this side of you, so bold and carefree, has spencer practically gripping the carpet floor for support.
he's miraculously saved when you pull back and raise a hand.
“i’m gonna-”
you don’t get to finish because you collapse onto the floor, completely wiped out by the alcohol.
he releases all of the air he’s been keeping inside of his lungs with a heavy sigh.
he watches your chest rise and fall slowly, your lips upturned and drawing in deep breaths.
“too much,” he replies, knowing you can’t hear him. he thinks he hears you mumble something back, but it's too incoherent for him to understand.
with a soft smile, spencer leans in and carefully crosses your arms over his shoulders, before hoisting you on his back to carry you out of the office.
“let’s get you home.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine
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Girl Next Door- Pt. 2
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?
A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning
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Part I
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Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house.
He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.
"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.
"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.
"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."
Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.
"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands.
Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.
"So, how much did you hear?"
"Not much"
"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”
“Sure,”
“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"
"He's sounds like some guy"
"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.
"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events.
"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."
"You don't need to apologize."
"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass.
"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.
"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.
"No"
"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."
"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass.
"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist.
"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit.
"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.
You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.
"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish.
"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind."
"I do," he says simply.
To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much.
"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."
He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it.
"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again.
"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."
He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"
"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal.
The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence.
"There's more if you want?"
"No, I'm stuffed."
If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge.
"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.
"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?"
"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"
Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.
Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's.
"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze.
"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"
"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.
"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert.
You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.
"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath.
"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter.
"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.
"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue.
"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.
"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?"
He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops.
"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair.
"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer.
"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides.
"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.
"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes.
"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."
"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him.
You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door.
You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.
The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand.
You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it.
𝜗𝜚
Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty.
He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help.
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@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19
#call of duty#cod x reader#cod#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fic#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost mw2
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Summer Getaway ft. EVERGLOW Yiren
A/N: This is a pitch I got from a friend outside of Tumblr, and it took me a long time to write since I’ve been working and planning the wedding, sorry about that. I have no doubt that this will become second-to if not more popular than Field Trip. I don’t have a lot to say about it so as not to spoil anything, so here we go.
-상훈
Length: 7.33k
Possible TW: Spanking, dom/sub kink
Tags: Spanking, choking, domination, dom/sub kink, drunk sex, sir kink
It had been a long senior year at Hanyang University. Very, very long.
With a major in psychology, a minor in health studies, and a hopeless career path, classes had been hard. I hadn’t even had my best friend, Yiren, in classes with me.
Yiren and I were more than friends. We had been dating for a little more than nine months, but she was still my best friend. She was not only exactly the type of girl I was interested in, but the exact type of friend I wanted to keep close. It had been with great disappointment that I had found out that my girlfriend would not be in classes with me at the beginning of the year. She would have been the only way psychology would be in any way interesting.
But now the year was over. A buddy of mine had offered me and Yiren his mountain cabin for the summer. He wasn’t going to be using it, he and his family were on vacation, so he would be touring Europe with his parents and sister.
The cabin, we found out when we arrived there, was a palatial, stone brick château with three stories and a balcony on the second. The balcony overhung the door, two large stone pillars supporting the structure. It had an very antiquated feel to it, though the sound structure still held up. My friend had told me it was over 200 years old, which I believed from the look of it. Whether it was 2 years old or 2000 though, I was happy to be here.
“It looks nice, doesn’t it oppa?” Yiren asked, arms wrapped around my arm, as we stood there and surveyed the cabin.
“Yeah, it does. Old, but very nice.”
“Three stories…wow.” She marveled at the sheer height of the place. “That's more than my house has. Come on, let's go inside.”
I slid the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door to reveal the interior.
It gave a very cozy, log-cabin-ish vibe. The blinds were shut, allowing very little daylight in. The lamps had turned on the moment we entered, dimming slightly once we shut the door. Plush rugs covered just about every square inch of the vast living room, where soft chintz armchairs and smooth leather couches sat, pillows arranged invitingly. The fireplace could have allowed three grown men ample sitting space, and the overhanging limestone mantle was decorated with ornate wood carvings. Mounted on the wall just above the mantle was the biggest TV I had ever seen, at least 85 inches across.
To the left of the fireplace was a bathroom, through the open door of which I caught a glimpse of a gold-rimmed mirror.
The rather titanic kitchen was a chef’s dream; the walls were bedecked with cabinets, drawers, and shelves full of cooking equipment. Two large ovens with stovetops sat alongside a dishwasher, and on top of its counter were a couple of microwave ovens. A kettle, coffee maker, waffle iron, iron griddle, and a shelf of teas, coffees, hot chocolates and various other drink mixes sat along another. Four more long shelves along the opposite wall held just about every kind of alcohol I could have asked for; bottles of whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, various liqueurs (fruit flavors like coconut and orange), tequila, port, Hennessy, and margarita sat assorted on them. Another, smaller shelf held cooking sherry, brandy, and bourbon. A wine rack nearby held several bottles and, I was surprised to see, one bottle each of Petrus 2012 (costs about $30k in real life), Armand Rousseau Chambertin Grand Cru ($19k), Versos Amontillado ($13k) and Vieux Chateau Certan Pomerol ($6k).
“Wow,” I said, taking out the Petrus and examining it. “I guess his family is richer than we thought.”
“What makes you say that?” Yiren asked while looking at the coconut liqueur.
“The fact that they have a bottle of wine in here that costs about thirty thousand dollars, and a few other expensive ones.”
“Huh, make sense.”
After looking into the pantry, which was the size of a walk-in closet and had enough food to feed a small town, we made our way to the staircase to upstairs. Six bedrooms took up this floor. We went straight to the master, which was as large as a neighborhood cul-de-sac.
The bed’s size could be compared to that of a midieval portcullis, with a deluxe king size mattress and nightstands on either side. A few dozen pillows were laid delicately across it, each with its own gold-laced pillowcase. An intricately carved wooden frame with a canopy structure and drapes held up the mattress. A pair of French doors were built in on the opposite wall from the door, which led out to the balcony, which spanned about twenty feet. Gorgeous scenery was what I laid my eyes on when I looked through the doors, a great view of the surrounding mountains and forest. The bathroom was off to the left from the entrance and Yiren made a beeline for it the moment we entered the room.
I followed her inside and was stunned. The same gold-framed mirror stretched across the wall, with three sinks and a vanity under it. White LEDs rimmed it, lighting up the bathroom when Yiren walked in.
“Oooh!” She squealed, looking around excitedly. I knew well by this point that the bathroom was her favorite and most valued part of a house, so it was always what she looked at with the most judgement. But she found nothing to criticize about this one, and looked very pleased to have access to it for the next two months.
“Like it?” I inquired, amused at her expression. “I’d say it’s pretty impressive.”
“Tell your friend I love it!” She said, positively radiating joy and excitement. “This is amazing!”
She ran to me and hugged me, then went to look around again.
I took a look into one of the drawers below the mirror and saw a vast array of hair and skin care products, no wonder my friend had good skin and hair.
Beyond the mirror space, there was the tub, which she was already scrutinizing. It held the same old feel with the weathered stone slabs making up the rim, but the pristinely white jacuzzi tub looked like it had been crafted yesterday. Bordering the bathtub was a large glass shower, with a rainfall showerhead on the ceiling and a nozzle clipped to the wall just below it, with multiple different kinds of shampoo, body wash, shower gel, and conditioner. A closet was off to the left of the door into the room, and after appraising the tub and shower we made our way to it. It was as big as the kitchen downstairs, and that was saying something. Multiple racks full of clothes were set into their pole grooves, and several racks of shoes rested on the floor. They weren’t ours, so we didn’t mess with them.
The floor above that was just one enormous game room. Pool, air hockey, foosball, mini golf, and several others were strewn around. A walled-off area seemed to be designated to archery and airsoft target practice, something I approved of. Another bathroom was at the far end, something I didn’t need to explore again. After looking around for a bit, we went back to my car to unload our baggage.
The cabin was about ten miles from any kind of civilization, which made for a nice and secluded area for a summer getaway, but it would be a bit of a pain in the ass driving back and forth through the unpaved roadway to the nearest town. But we had brought food, and there was food in the house, so we were fine for the time being.
“Oppa?”
I heard Yiren’s voice call from upstairs a while later.
“Yeah?” I called back.
“Are you up for a hike? I hear they have great trails up here.”
“Sure, I’m down.”
I got up off the couch and went up there to see her.
“You did bring the hiking boots, didn’t you?” She asked, seeing me upstairs.
“Yes, of course. We can’t go to a mountain lodge without hiking boots.”
“True. Hold on for a minute, I have to change.”
She disappeared into the master bedroom and the sounds of rustling clothes could be heard from inside. I leaned my head over a bit to see past the doorway and found her raised eyebrows staring back at me while she slipped off her jeans, taking her panties with them.
“Peeping, oppa?” Her playful voice sounded as she turned away to her bag, and I would have challenged a Buckingham Palace guard not to look as she bent over slightly to retrieve her leggings.
I walked slowly into the room where she was rummaging in her suitcase and stopped behind her as she straightened up, leggings in hand, and placed my hands on her waist. She leaned backwards into my touch and sighed as I stroked her hips.
“Oppa, don’t tease me…”
I paid this no attention and moved my hands lower, sliding my palms over her naked thighs.
“Stop it, we’re going to hike, wait until later.”
Reluctantly, I paid her some heed and went to the dresser to get my bag and keys while she got dressed. And thus, a few short minutes of driving later, we arrived at the entrance to the trail.
…
The trail was nice and peaceful, with flat paths and beautiful scenery. It was rather tranquil, with the occasional squirrel or chipmunk darting across the rocky path in front of us. But of course, Yiren couldn’t let me enjoy the little things like that, she had to wear something skintight on both halves, and had to walk in front of me, which distracted me from any of the scenery.
So it was with slightly exerted legs and a straining bulge that I completed the trail, a fact Yiren was perfectly aware of.
Mind almost numb with lust by the time we got back into the care due to her deliberately dropping her phone and bending over to pick it up, I started the engine of my car and drove away toward the cabin.
I was again surprised by its immense size even though I had seen it an hour previously. We walked to the door, unlocked and opened it, and that was as much time as Yiren needed to latch onto me the moment I closed the door.
I turned around from the door and she was instantly there, wrapping her arms around my head and pulling me into a deep kiss. A moan sounded from her as my tongue sought entrance into her mouth, and I pulled her by the hips closer, so she could feel the bulge in my jeans. She started grinding herself against it, still kissing me with intense passion.
I half-carried her up the stairs to the bedroom and set her down on the mattress, where she laid on her back with her legs spread enticingly, eyes glittering with lust.
After shutting the drapes around the bed, I removed my shirt and saw her bite her lip at the sight of me shirtless, a fact I took heed of and tossed my shirt elsewhere, settling my hips between her thighs. I made sure she could acutely feel the tent in my pants against her, and she definitely did feel it.
Her breaths became shorter and more frequent, a sure sign of growing neediness. Her hips started moving of their own accord, grinding up against me. I felt this and got off her.
I hooked my thumbs under the waistbands of my jeans and boxers and pulled them off, finally freeing my cock from its denim prison, while she quickly removed her own clothes in my peripheral vision. She looked at me once I straightened up, bit her lip again, and her hand sneaked along her waist towards her pussy.
I was amazed for the millionth time by the fact that she had a body like a Greek goddess. To verbally describe the intensity of the lust her body induced would have been impossible.
I stepped forward and grabbed her hand, tearing it away from her leaking pussy, replacing the fingers with my tongue.
Her reaction was immediate. Her hands shot to my head and pulled, and she gave a short cry every time my tongue penetrated her. I targeted the spots I knew would pleasure her the most.
“Yes, fuck!” Her mouth was wide open and she was taking shallow breaths, giving short moans and gasps on the exhale. “Yes, don’t stop oppa it feels so good!”
I pressed by thumb to her clit while I continued the circular swiping motion with my tongue, which was quite effective to say the least. Her cries became sharper, her breaths more shallow, all building up to her climax.
“I’m gonna cum oppa, keep going, I’m cumming! AHH!”
How turned on I was could not have been described in words as her juices gushed out, into my mouth, and over my face. Her hands trembled as they clutched at my hair, and she had a small out-of-body experience as the pleasure of a second orgasm briefly took her to another realm of consciousness. I was in heaven right along with her, nothing was more satisfying that pleasuring her to an orgasm.
When she came back to earth I had gotten up, dried my face, and laid down on the bed beside her. The section of sheet under her lower half was soaked, as were her thighs and pussy. Her eyes were unfocused and dreamy, her chest heaved while her extremities still trembled.
“Oppa…”
She had turned her head towards me and I could almost see the hearts in her eyes as she looked at me.
“That was…so good…”
She spoke each phrase between breaths. If she thought what I had just done effortlessly was good, she had yet to feel what would happen when I was pounding her and completely abandoning any restraint.
I turned myself towards her and put my arms around her, though the effect was kind of ruined by my stiff cock poking her in the thigh, which made her giggle. She turned over and maneuvered down between my legs, placing her hands on my thighs as she stared fixedly at my length like a lion looks at its dinner, and I could tell she was about to go to town.
“I’m really hungry oppa,” she purred deviously, each word laced with teasing, while her hands performed slow strokes over my length, “I think I need to be fed, hmm?”
I took the cue and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her lips down over my cock, and then everything else disappeared. Her lips parted and then slid smoothly over my shaft, a fresh coat of saliva washing over me.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned, unable to contain the immediate pleasure that filled me. “Fuck Yiren, that feels amazing!”
Each bob of her head made its way closer to my base, and she got a little more than three quarters before she started gagging. She moaned, gasped, gagged, and choked, but she didn’t give herself a break, even for a moment. She was hungry, and I was the only thing that could sate her appetite. Hearing my moans, she upped her speed. Her tongue slid over the underside of my cock, stretching out to flick my balls, while she forced her own head further down on me. My entire length was lodged inside her mouth and throat, and I felt myself very quickly nearing a climax.
“You’re going to make me cum,” I panted, getting even more turned on by her moans and small ‘mmm’s of satisfaction. “I’m gonna fucking cum down your throat, keep doing that!”
She took heed of this and slid her head all the way down my cock once more and held there, and with an almighty groan and a bed-rattling thrust of my hips I buried myself in her throat and spurted my load down it, a fact she was very pleased with. She bobbed her head rapidly, throating my cock a final few times and swallowing every single drop. And she couldn’t resist holding her head down on my now hypersensitive rod for another few seconds, simply loving the feeling of having her throat penetrated.
I lost count of the seconds she held herself there, I wasn’t really paying attention. Twenty, thirty, forty, somewhere around forty-five I lost count, and then she pulled up, dislodging me from her mouth and gasping for some much-needed oxygen, though her face showed pure enjoyment.
She dragged herself up the bed and settled next to me, sighing contentedly.
“I love you oppa.”
I drew her closer under the thoroughly stained blanket with one arm, using the other to run my fingers through her hair.
“I love you too, Yiren. Always.”
I could practically hear her purring as the warmth from my body emanated off me, and she snuggled in close, planting a small kiss on my jaw. I turned my head to receive and respond to her second kiss, and put my hand around her head.
Before I knew it, she was on top of me and we were kissing passionately, soft moans leaving her mouth as our tongues met. I found my cock returning to full life, and she most assuredly did, since her already-wet pussy was handily positioned right above it.
I flipped her over and pressed myself down on her. My tip rubbed against her sensitive folds, causing her to give tiny sighs of pleasure.
And then I pushed into her tight warmth. The insane tightness of her walls squeezing every part of my shaft was making me see stars, and there was quite a lot of resistance as I determinedly pushed inside her.
She moaned as I bottomed out inside her, my tip brushing spots inside her that I didn’t even know existed at that depth.
“Fuck me oppa.”
That was my cue to begin my thrusts, quickly increasing the speed and intensity of them. I landed a slap on her jiggling ass and immediately her pussy clenched around me and she cried out. I timed my spanks with each thrust of my hips, and her various obscenities also fell in rhythm.
“Oh - god - fuck - yes!” She said, each word coming out in time with the spanks. “Feels - so - good - fuck!”
I took her ponytail in my hand and pulled back, forcing her face up, her moans becoming higher in pitch at my pulling. Her back bent up so she was almost kneeling as I fucked her, and with my other hand I paused the spanks and reached around to squeeze her breasts, only heightening her arousal. Her hands gripped the hand caressing her chest.
“Please oppa, fuck me harder,” Yiren half-whispered, which I knew to be a sign that she was nearing an orgasm. “Your cock is so deep in me, it feels so good!”
I did as she asked and fucked her harder, abandoning all restraint as I slammed my hips into hers, the sounds of skin on skin getting louder as my hips met her ass. It was becoming difficult to resist the hypnotic jiggle of her ass and the way her pussy was exquisitely gripping my cock, massaging as I pistoned in and out. I was about to cum, as I realized it, and there was nothing I could do about that now.
And then, before I knew it:
“So fucking good, yes! Fuck oppa I’m cumming, FUCK!”
“Shit, I’m cumming as well, fucking take it all!”
We met our orgasms at the same time, sharing that moment of bliss together. Her juices splattered my legs as they sprayed out, accompanied by her scream of pleasure, always reserved for just such a moment of satisfaction. The feeling was pervading up my entire body, immense pleasure before my actual release. Yiren gasped twice and moaned quietly at the deluge of hot cum that flooded her tight pussy. I kept fucking her at a slower pace, now the only things audible were the wet slaps of our skin and her occasional murmured expressions, as she rested somewhere between this bed and heaven itself.
“So good…feels so…feels so good…ohh yes just like that…”
I got the impression from what she was saying that she was very near unconsciousness. It wouldn’t surprise me, since she had just had a very intense orgasm. I pulled out of her with a lewd squelch and a large quantity of cum rushed out of her.
“Ahhh…ohh yes…I love you oppa…”
I settled in front of her as she flopped over onto her side, breathing very heavily. I rubbed her back as she moved close, nimbly stroking all the spots I knew she loved, and she purred into my neck.
“I love you too, baby.”
…
I got up a while later, put on my clothes, and after giving the half-asleep Yiren a kiss, I went up to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. It was a quality that especially attracted her to me, the fact that I could cook, and well. She always said that a man who could cook was a man who wouldn’t have trouble finding women.
Jjajangmyeon was a personal favorite of both of ours, and so it was what I started making. I was nearly finished when the sound of the bedroom door opening sounded behind me and she entered the room wrapped in a blanket, yawning.
“Did you sleep?” I asked, industriously stirring the noodles.
“Yes.” She yawned again. “For a little bit.”
“Good,” I replied, “because you’re not going to be doing much of it tonight.”
She giggled and peered into the pot.
“Jjajangmyeon?”
“Indeed.” I put the spatula down and turned to her. “Just how we both like it.”
She hugged me, the top of her head barely brushing my chin.
“Aww oppa you didn’t have to, I could have done it.”
I put my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tighter embrace.
“I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”
Yiren hugged me tighter and buried her face in my shirt, and I could feel her smile against my chest.
“I love it when you do this.”
Her words warmed my heart, and I smiled as well.
“I do it all the time, you’d think some of the novelty would be lost.
She snorted. “Well, it hasn’t.”
I turned back to the wok and stirred my stir fry, my arm still around her shoulders.
“What do you say we pop open some of that Hennessy after dinner?”
“Sounds good to me. That stuff hits hard, though.”
“Precisely.” I said. “We might not even have to use a lot.”
“That looks like it’s done.” She said, nodding at the pot of noodles.
“I’m aware.” I replied. “Would you get out the bowls?”
She got out the bowls and two pairs of chopsticks as I turned off the fire on the stovetop. I dragged the noodles out of the pot and into the bowls and spooned the sauce onto them. She took them to the table and set up two chairs across from each other while I got out a bottle of choice Pinot Noir from the rack along with two glasses.
“Wow, you really are trying to get drunk, aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Not really, but I’m not trying not to, if you catch my drift.”
She just smirked, absolutely catching my drift and knowing the outcome. I sat down after pouring the wine and setting the glasses down in our places.
Dinner passed quickly. The bowls had been cleared fairly quickly. I had sipped my wine away already, but Yiren always left hers to sit out for a while, the reason for which I never knew.
By the time she picked her glass back up I had poured myself some water as a beforehand countermeasure to the many measures of Hennessy we would be sharing.
While I was thinking about it I got up and grabbed the bottle of Hennessy, setting it down on the table.
“Cheers,” she said happily, raising her glass. I raised mine and then drank from it as she followed suit.
“Good choice.” She said, after a moment of consideration. “Very nice hints of different flavors.”
“I know,” I said, taking another mouthful of water. “Pinot Noir is always good. But my friend imports his wine from places France and Spain and Italy, places which do wine the right way.”
“Speaking of your friend, where is he on vacation?”
“In Switzerland right now, but in a few days he’ll be somewhere else in Europe, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”
She took another small sip of wine before speaking again.
“Well, I can truthfully say that there’s no place I’d rather be then right here with you.”
She leaned across the small table and poked me in the chest, a playful smile gracing her lips. I caught her hand before she could draw it away and pulled her into a kiss. Her body seemed to relax into it, and a slightly muffled sigh was audible. When we broke the kiss off and sat back down, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were alive with desire.
“Damn, we haven’t even started drinking yet and you’re already losing it.”
Yiren blushed harder at my sentence. She said nothing, but something changed in her expression. She got up from her seat, abandoning her wine, and strode around the table to me. The next thing I knew, she was sitting in my lap, hands pulling my face towards hers. She moaned as her lips locked with mine, tongue entering my mouth, meeting with my own.
She pulled away, looking at me with the dim-ish light dancing in her eyes, a deep blush spread across her cheeks.
“How about that Hennessy now, huh?” She said.
I reached for the bottle and unscrewed the top, as she turned to the side. I took a healthy swig of it myself before reaching for the shotglasses. The alcohol burned in my throat as it went down and I took a deep breath in.
We both downed a shot together. She coughed and winced as she swallowed, but nodded when I looked concernedly at her.
"I'm alright."
She reached for her second shot and swallowed it with me.
"How quick does this stuff kick in?" She asked as the glasses were once again refilled.
"Quickly."
After successfully downing three shots and of the liquor, we sat back and waited on the couch. I had made the mistake of impatience while drinking once before, and it was not going to happen again.
And then it hit.
And when it hit, it hit hard.
"Whoa," I slurred as the room started spinning before my eyes, "Yiren, you feeling it?"
She gave a tipsy giggle and fell forward, still laughing.
"I dunno, I've never been drunk bfore..."
Through the haze of drunken stupor I was seeing, I looked down and saw her ass, so sexy and perfectly positioned...she was even bent over my lap, too...I had no chance of resisting the urge.
"Ah!" She yelped as I slapped her ass, then giggled again. "Oppa..."
"More..."
I gladly complied, landing more punishing smacks on her ass. With each spank she tensed and gave a small, cute cry.
Normally my dominant side stayed at a minimum, but I had to admit to myself that in my drunk state it was starting to take over my brain. I found myself increasing the intensity of my smacks and taking pleasure in it, causing her cries to rise in volume quickly.
"Nngh yes, keep spanking me oppa!" She whimpered, swiftly approaching her peak. "Ah! Fuck yes, keep doing that!"
I kept spanking her and reached around to caress her breast with my other hand. Her moans kept building until finally she orgasmed with a squeal, the crotch of her shorts becoming very wet.
Yiren took quick, shallow breaths to calm down after cumming, and when she had sufficiently recovered she rolled over on my legs to face me.
"That was fun oppa, we should go to the bedroom."
I blinked hard. "Shit, I dunno if I can walk."
She scoffed. "Come on, let's go."
I clumsily got up off the couch and weaved my way up the stairs and to the bedroom, stumbling three times on the way there. I dimmed the lights as I entered, then fell forward onto the bed, rolling over and scooting up to let my head rest on the pillow. My shirt was going to be an unnecessary accessory once she got up here, so I removed it and tossed it aside.
She entered the bed and slid the drapes shut behind her, wearing only her soaked shorts, panties, and a bra. I was already hard from the light spanking I had given her, but the mere sight of her sexy, half-naked body was enough to double my stiffness.
She clambered across the bed and straddled me, leaning down to kiss me. I accepted it only for a second, then gripped her hips and rolled over, so I was on top.
I kissed her more aggressively now, pressing my tongue against her lips to gain entry. She eventually gave in, but we both knew she was tantalizing herself by holding out, she wanted me. She gave a tiny sigh of pleasure.
I broke off the kiss and left her blushing and panting, eyes sparkling.
"God, you're so sexy when you're drunk." She murmured to me, holding my face with both hands.
"Really?" I said, locking eyes with her. "Then maybe I should do it more often."
Normally and drunkenly, Yiren's submissive side stayed at a minimum. It balanced with her enjoyment of being in control for a pretty neutral attitude. But I could see in her deep brown eyes a need. Whether she could feel it or not, I could tell that she needed to be dominated, badly.
"Hello?" Her voice said from a long way off, the sound trying desperately to be heard over the pounding of my own heart in my ears. "You gonna do something? Or will I have to do it myself?"
She was baiting me, and I knew it. Trying to spur me into fucking her. But it wasn't going to happen yet.
"Yeah, I'm gonna do something." I growled. "And you're gonna take it, like it or not."
A shudder ran through her at my words, but she maintained her cocky, playful attitude.
"Ooh, he's getting feisty. Someone's a little drunk."
I could feel annoyance rising at her words, which was exactly what she wanted, of course. She observed me with satisfaction.
"Okay, that's it." I got off her, opened the drapes, and stood up, removing my jeans and boxers. She automatically got off the bed and knelt in front of me as I sat on the edge of it, knowing my intention. I wasted no time in grabbing her hair and forming it into a ponytail in my hand, grasping none too lightly. She gasped at my sudden roughness, and I used the opportunity of her mouth already being open to shove my cock into it.
She choked as my tip poked the back of her throat, but didn't resist as I slowly pushed further in, bringing her face to the base. She gagged, and I pulled her head back by the ponytail before slamming my hips into it again, driving my length down her throat. Over and over I brought her face back before plunging it back down, spearing her throat with my cock.
Tears gathered in her eyes when she choked, gagging obscenely on my dick. After a bit she started moving by herself, her neck on autopilot, ramming her face into my crotch. Saliva spilled down her face and dripped off her messy chin to her bra-clad breasts below. Light mascara streaks tracked down her face, joining the mess at her lips.
Yiren brought her head down one more time and held it there for a second, a choking sound resounding, before pulling off, gasping and breathing heavily. She looked at me, panting, and I felt the promise of an orgasm drifting away.
"Why'd you stop?"
"I want you to cum inside me."
I reached forward and lifted her onto the bed, setting her down none too gently on her back. I held my hand on her throat, choking her, not enough to cause damage.
She caught her breath at the rough treatment, clearly turned on. But I wasn't going to hold off on that domination.
"You want?" I breathed into her face, her pupils dilating in arousal. "Maybe you need a reminder of who's in charge."
She said nothing, but I could see a subtle change in her expression. I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties and pulled them over her slender legs and off her feet. Her pussy was already soaked and shining with arousal.
Yiren, still keeping up her cocky demeanor, gave a huge fake yawn and smirked cheekily. I narrowed my eyes and then reached up and tore the bra off her, making her yelp. However overweening she was acting, I could see in her face a desire to be dominated. And that was a desire I was more than willing to satisfy.
I crawled forward, lifted her legs up, and sheathed myself to the root inside her tight, wet pussy. "Fuck!" She cried out as I pushed into her. She moaned and gasped when I bottomed out inside her, firmly prodding her cervix. Her quick, high-pitched breaths heightened my arousal.
My brain was far too cloudy to control my desire, so my thrusts were fast and rough. I relentlessly pounded her, not holding back a bit and not sorry at all. I gave her ass quick smacks randomly every few thrusts, making her yelp every single time.
Her brows contracted and turned up, and her mouth stayed slightly open, her face falling into that angelic expression of bliss that never failed to make me shiver in pleasure myself.
"Oh - fuck - yes - harder - please!" She whimpered in time with my strokes. I lowered my face to her ear.
"Now remind me," I growled, her moans filling my own ears, "who's in charge?"
She barely managed to get the words out inbetween her cries. "You oppa! You're in charge! I belong to you!"
I gave her ass a hard slap, somewhat dissatisfied with her answer. "Then say it right, slut."
"I'm yours, sir!" She cried again, "I belong to you only!"
"Good girl." I said in a low voice, and I felt her shiver under me. I slowed my thrusts to a calmer pace, more to tantalize her than anything else. She was near an orgasm, I could tell, so I kept the strokes at a steady pace with a lot of force.
"Sir, please," She begged, her juices leaking out around me, clearly turned on by my dominance, "Fuck me harder, make me cum for you." Cleverly worded so as to make it like this was for me, not for her. I was not, even in my drunk-as-fuck state, going to fall for that.
"Why would I do that?" I said to her dismay, evilly grinning. "You were such a bad girl earlier, why should I reward you?"
"I'm sorry, sir!" She said breathlessly, her eyes full of desperation. "I'm sorry I was bad! Please, sir, fuck me and make me cum!"
I couldn't really help but give in, since my libido was screaming at me. So I picked up the pace and resumed my uncontrolled plowing of her tight cunt, the resistance smoothed somewhat by the enormous amounts of slick she was producing.
With every subsequent thrust, her moans became louder snd her words dirtier as I brought her nearer to her peak.
"Mmhh yes sir, fuck me harder! It's so good, fuck! I'm gonna cum for you sir!"
I pushed myself up from my elbows and held a hand to her neck, pushing down just enough to make her enjoy it. She took a sharp breath and opened her eyes, pupils dilated.
"Shut the fuck up and take it, slut," I said, groaning despite myself.
"Yes, sir," she gasped, moaning, as I pushed deeper. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!"
She wasn't lying. Her voice died momentarily as her eyes rolled into her head and she bucked her hips up into me, a gush of cum spraying my abdomen. She found her voice after a second, and let out a short, loud "ah", mouth open. Her hips continued their motion seemingly independent of her pleasure-addled brain.
Her moans subsided, and an idea came to me. I reluctantly pulled out of her, a lewd squelch sounding. She lay there, unmoving, eyes open and practically heart-pupiled. I walked to the french doors leading to thr balcony and opened them, a rush of cool night air sweeping over me.
Yiren lifted her head slightly at the sudden cool draft and pushed herself up with slightly trembling arms. I went back to the bed and lifted her off it easily, then set her down on her front on the soft white couch oustide. She gave a tiny gasp as a breeze of cool air moved over her naked pussy.
"Sir...
"Fuck me again..."
I was still rock hard despite the cool air, so I climbed onto the couch with her. Her head was laying sideways towards the dark scenery, her arms were stretched out in front of her, and her ass was sticking up in the air, perfectly positioned for me to fuck.
I slid my cock back into her wet heat, drawing a languid whimper from her mouth and clenching my jaw with a groan. I started off slow, with gentle, even thrusts, Yiren moaning softly beneath me.
"Mmm fuck yes you're so deep in me oppa..."
I kicked the pace up a little and started thrusting faster and harder, quickly turning her moans to cries as I pounded her tight pussy.
"Mmhh fuck! Pound me harder please sir! Pound my little pussy! So good, fuck, yes yes please harder! So fucking big inside me, yes! Nghh oh god yes, use me, fuck!"
Her words flicking every arousal switch in my brain to 'on', I went even faster, giving it everything I had to keep pushing into her. Beads of sweat formed at my hairline at the effort. Yiren was reduced to a mewling, whimpering, moaning mess, unable to form coherent words in her pleasure. I slapped her ass hard and she cried out.
"Please - sir - harder! Oh - yes - slap me - sir!"
I spanked her harder and she arched her back, a small yelp escaping her with every thrust I gave. Pleasure was building in my lower abdomen like resistance from a compressed spring, my abs and obliques tensing in preparation.
"Yes sir, give it to me! Fuck me harder please! Nghh yes, I'm gonna - I'm gonna - fuck, I'm cumming sir!"
"Fuck!" I groaned, as she gave a particularly sexy cry that sent shivers down my spine, "Yiren baby I'm gonna fucking cum!"
"Yes - please - sir!" She managed through her high-pitched whines of bliss. This, combined with her usage of "sir", was all the initiative I needed to cum inside her.
"Oh my god yes, FUCK!" I almost roared, slamming my hips into hers one last time, burying my cock so deep inside her that it touched her cervix again and blasting her insides with hot cum. My release triggered hers, and she orgasmed again with a scream, spraying her cum out onto me.
I rolled over and off her, sliding out to let a large amount of cum come spilling out of her. She gave another soft moan and then rolled over to face me. I pulled her closer and her face and body were very hot despite the 6°C temperature outside.
"So good... oppa I love you..."
"I love you too, baby."
...
I must have fallen asleep, since when I awoke it was about 8 o'clock in the morning, judging by the sun's position. Yiren was snoozing peacefully beside me. As I slowly returned to a waking state I realized that I was stiffer than a wood plank again. Yiren's sleeping body was looking incredibly sexy, and I was entirely unable to control my sudden desire. I pulled her closer to me and pushed into her again, quietly groaning. She gave a soft moan in her sleep. I started very slowly, but even this was enough to stir her from her slumber. She breathed in deeply and shifted slightly, and I continued my thrusts, making her whine faintly. She steadily returned to conciousness, moaning more and tightening around me.
"Oppa?"
"Yes, baby," I groaned through gritted teeth, listening to her soft mewls of satisfaction. "Oh, fuck..."
Her eyes opened partially, looking lazily out at the trees, and then they closed and her eyebrows contracted upwards as I reached around and started rubbing her clit, making her gasp and whimper.
"A-ah...oh yes, k-keep doing that..."
Her head leaned back into my collarbone and I could smell vanilla in her soft hair. I grabbed her hips and slammed mine into them, driving my cock deep inside her and making her cry a loud "ah".
"Ohh yes yes yes, please keep going, I'm gonna fucking cum again, don't stop oppa!"
I reached and put my hand around her slim neck, squeezing lightly, just enough to give her the sensation I knew she liked. Her intonations of pleasure became unintelligible.
"Yes - fuck - harder - oppa - mmm yes - so good!"
"Fuck, you like that baby?" I squeezed her neck harder.
"Ah! Yes, sir! I love it! Fuck my little pussy harder! Use me! Your cock is so big, so deep inside me sir!"
"Yiren, I'm gonna cum baby," I gasped, moaning in her ear, and I felt her shiver in arousal under me.
"Cum inside me, sir," Yiren panted, arching her back into me. Her hands went to her own breasts, squeezing and massaging, pleasuring her to greater heights. Her eyes closed once more and she let out a shriek of pleasure and a long moan as sbe squirted on me again, arms and legs trembling uncontrollably as her mind whited out.
I briefly lost touch with reality as my own mind was flooded with sensation and I released inside her again. My body shuddered in pleasure and I let out a few swears through gritted teeth, thrusting my way through my orgasm. Yiren gasped and moaned throughout it, loving the feeling of warmth pouring into her.
My muscles relaxed, and I slipped out of her as we both settled down again, panting and satisfied. It was a few minutes before she spoke again.
"Oppa?"
"Yiren, baby?"
She sighed contentedly. "I love you."
"I love you too." I replied, planting a row of kisses on her neck.
"You know what I think oppa?"
"What's that, babe?"
She turned over and faced me, a devilish smirk twisting her lips.
"I think it's gonna be a really fun summer."
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a gloomy december morning
word count: 1196
warnings: suggestive sexual content, very slight jealousy, mentions of smoking and drinking. vincent being a dreamboat
a/n: i have never written before but i watched anatomy of a fall and knew what i had to do. i am so scared and think this is garbage but i hope u guys like it :))
*
vincent is fast asleep, a true rarity for your household. he’s naked, bar the thin linen blanket draped over his hips that his mother tossed in a bag when you two first moved into this home. you brush your fingers through his silver hair, shifting to give him a soft peck on his forehead. he shifts but ultimately stays in the same position.
smiling, you gently move your duvet off of your body, shivering at the lost warmth. you scan your shared bedroom, littered with strewn clothes, empty wine bottles and folders filled with documents and find a chair with an old tee shirt on it that hits just above your underwear.
you made a mental note to at least try to clean the house sometime soon, but you just couldn’t leave your vincent alone now that you finally had him for more than two hours at a time. after a year of only seeing him at night, or when you could visit his office during your lunch break, or over facetime in the early hours of the morning, something as simple as waking up with him felt sacred. you didn’t know how much of this you had.
you brace as you push the door close as quietly as possible, hissing as your feet hit the cold tile of the linoleum of your kitchen floor. it still smells vaguely of the cake you two shared last night, picking at pieces of tiramisu between gulps of white wine and sneaky kisses even though no one was watching. you grab some ground coffee and start to heat up your stovetop espresso maker, which you got at the insistence of your very stubborn husband.
-
“love, can’t we just get an instant coffee maker? it will be so much faster” you ask from behind your laptop, tucked into your velvet sofa as the december rain gently pattered onto your roof.
vincent chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer.
“you have not had a real cappuccino if it comes from a machine, chérie,” he says as he rummages through the kitchen drawers while swearing under his breath.
you rise from the couch with a soft sigh, shutting your laptop and placing it on the glass table in front of you and grabbing vincent’s lighter that’s pressed in between the couch cushions. his head whips around when he hears you click the lighter, and your cheeks widen as you walk over to him. vincent smiles back, his cigarette loosely hanging between his lips and his hair slightly disheveled from his search. he leans down ever so slightly, looking into your eyes as the flame lights the cigarette, taking a long drag before leaning against the kitchen counter.
“the coffee is more, how do you say bien équilibrée in english, darling?”
“well rounded,” you toss the lighter behind him, crossing your arms over your chest. he hums, nodding as he breathes out wafts of smoke.
“the coffee is more well-rounded,” the word sounds a little funny coming out of his mouth as if you could see his brain forming each letter in real-time. you can’t help but giggle, reaching behind him to open the kitchen window.
“i’m sure it is”
before you can fully stand up again his hand is on your lower back, softly bringing your body against his. he smells like tobacco and the slightly too minty toothpaste you buy from the convenience store down the road. he looks so beautiful in the dim winter light.
“tu me fais confiance, n'est-ce pas? (you trust me, don’t you?)” he asks, pressing his fingers into your side. he moves to hover just above your neck, and you can’t help but melt into his touch as he nibbles ever so gently on your neck, just below your ear. your eyes flutter closed and you feel the warmth pool in your lower stomach.
“vincent-”
“ you do, right?” he cuts you off as his hand wanders to the front of your body, playing with the waistband of your panties. his fingers ghost just above your cunt, and you sigh.
“of course, my love. always.”
you whine from the loss of contact as he steps away from you, taking a drag with a slight smile on his face.
“bon,” he says, his free hand caressing the side of your face.
“so we’ll go get our moka pot - not machine - tonight”.
-
you grin at the memory as you pour two shots of espresso into vincent’s favorite mug, along with a splash of whole milk, and turn on the burner to make another for yourself. you rock on your feet as you think of what to make for breakfast - maybe eggs? but vincent forgot to run to the farmers market, maybe jam on toast. there might be some leftover brioche-
you jump when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your chest smiling as you feel your husbands face nuzzle into your shoulder, pressing a few faint kisses on your skin while his hair tickles your neck.
“i thought you’d sleep for a few more hours honey,” you say, turning around to hand him his cup of coffee and laughing as his eyes brighten. he takes a sip, closing his eyes as he drinks.
“couldn’t sleep,” he says after a few moments, opening his eyes to stare into yours. his voice is deeper than normal, and you can tell he just woke up because there’s still a gravelly edge to it.
“i sleep poorly without you, honey.”
you raise your eyebrows as you let your fingers graze his chest and down his stomach.
“that’s a good one, do you tell all your girlfriends that?”
he rolls his eyes, taking a big sip before setting his mug on the counter.
“i’m being serious. i swear, every time it would get late and i’d try to sleep on sandra’s couch, i just couldn’t.”
your body goes rigid at the sound of her name but you try and ignore it, tracing circles onto his stomach. your mouth feels a little drier than it was a few minutes before.
vincent notices, of course he does. there’s nothing you could do that would get past him, the stellar lawyer.
“don’t be like that,” he whispers, cupping your hand in his face. you try to keep your gaze down but he tilts your head up.
you roll your eyes.
“every day while i was gone, all i wanted was to be home with you. you were all i could think about. you are all i ever think about.”
you feel lightheaded at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeply, sighing as your hand wanders down to the waistband of his boxers. you feel him smile into the kiss, putting out the cigarette so he has both hands free to touch you.
“take me to bed?”
you feel vincent’s stomach tense as your hand dips into his boxers. he gives you a soft kiss on the side of your face.
“how can i say no when you ask so nicely”.
#vincent renzi#vincent renzi x reader#vincent renzi fanfiction#swann arlaud#swann arlaud x reader#swann arlaud fanfiction#anatomy of a fall#anatomie d’une chute#anatomy of a fall fanfiction
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screw top rosé
summary: a cozy wine night with your boyfriend, matt<3 pairing: matt x feminine reader content: alcohol, kissing, fluff! a note from lilah 𐙚: welcome to my first piece of work on this blog! i hope you all love it :) (lowercase intended!)
you smiled to yourself as you lit an autumnal candle, breathing in the sweet scent. the rain pattered against the window panes of your and matt's shared apartment, giving the space the perfect ambience for the evening. given matt's job as an influencer, especially in la, it was rare for the two of you to have a relaxed evening at home, especially on a saturday. somehow though, the whiteboard calendar that you kept in the kitchen was evening on this november evening.
you rushed to the front door as you heard matt's keys jingling in the lock, your fuzzy-sock-covered feet sliding across the hardwood floor. you threw open the door before your boyfriend could even unlock it, smiling eagerly at the plastic takeout bag in his hand.
"what happened to "hi", "how are you?"?" matt chuckled, snaking an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head.
"no one gets between me and my food," you joked, but nevertheless returned matt's kiss with a peck on his cheek. "let's eat."
within minutes, you had your and matt's share of chinese takeout spread out across the bar where you two ate. before sitting down, you pulled a bottle of rosé from the fridge, effortlessly removing the screw top and pouring a glass for both of you. matt smiled, thanking you and taking a sip of the wine. fuck if it was a "girly" drink, he liked rosé.
the conversation died down as you and your boyfriend began to eat, your mouths occupied with the taste of good food. as you finished off your plate, you looked up at matt, noting his empty wine glass and the pink blush spreading across his cheeks.
"wine getting you already?" you chuckled, standing to clear the plates.
"i'm not a lightweight." matt grumbled, despite the darkening of his cheeks betraying him.
you chuckled, rinsing the dishes and putting them in the sink. they could be washed tomorrow. right now, spending time with matt, free of loud parties or events, was more important than housework.
"i'm gonna go put on my pajamas and then we can watch a movie!" you explained gleefully.
matt nodded, giving your ass a soft pat as you left the room. his insides felt warm already, thanks in part to the alcohol, but also to just how much love he felt for you. by the time you returned, clad in silky, pink pajamas, matt had set up the living room for the rest of your night. the bottle of rosé and your two glasses were set on the coffee table, couch decorated with fuzzy blankets, and the tv waiting on netflix.
you cuddled up next to matt under one of the blankets, pouring you both another glass of wine. unlike your boyfriend, you tolerated alcohol quite well, but it always made you smile seeing how sleepy and cuddly matt got. it wasn't long before matt grabbed the remote, flicking the tv to your favorite movie and wrapping his arm around you.
the living room was silent for a while as you became engrossed in your movie, comforted by the pink liquid in your cup and the feeling of matt's body against your own.
"baby?" matt hummed, poking your side.
"mhm?' you asked, pausing the movie and turning to face your lover.
"i love you," he giggled, cheeks pink and eyes shiny. "you're the prettiest girl ever."
"and i love you more." you smiled, kissing matt's plump, warm lips softly.
"i can't believe you like me enough to kiss me." he grinned, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
"i'm your girlfriend, silly." you chuckled, noting matt's empty wine glass.
"so if you're my girlfriend, does that mean i can do this?" he yawned, plopping his head in your lap.
"sure does." you kissed his head, running your fingers through his messy, brown hair.
matt smiled and yawned, clearly sleepy from the alcohol. "that feels nice," he mumbled. "like it."
as time passed, the more the alcohol hit matt's system, the more cuddly he became. it wasn't long before he was practically laying on your lap, eyes blissfully closed. "i dunno why i'm so sleepy." he mumbled.
"two glasses is a lot for you, bubba." you giggled gently.
"bedtime?"
"sure, matt. bedtime." you smiled, placing a kiss to his head.
author's note: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed :) see my pinned post to be on my taglist!
#© sturniolocafe#matt sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic
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𝔹𝕦𝕫𝕫𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕕 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕋𝕖𝕤𝕥 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪
“I’m (y/n) (l/n) and this fine looking gentleman is my boyfriend, Joseph and today…we’re doing the BuzzFeed relationship quiz to see how well we know each other.”
Drew let out a groan at the use of his first name, looking over at you, “I don’t like when you call me that. You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before placing one on his shoulder and looking down at the laptop. The questions listed were more like a checklist rather than actual questions but there was a variety to choose from.
‘Their birthday’
“(Y/B/D) (Y/B/Y)” He answered, tapping his hands on the desk
“November 4, 1993.” You said, “I didn’t believe him when he told me he was 26 when we first met because he doesn’t look like he’s 30.”
Drew let out sigh, shaking his head, “I don’t like to talk about it.”
“You’re getting up there, grandpa.” You teased, letting out a laugh as he shrugged your head off of his shoulder.
‘Their Astrological Sign’
“Your astrological sign is (y/s/s). Most compatible with mine, by the way.” Drew said, looking over at you as you agreed, “Obviously. You are a scorpio. Totally makes sense.”
‘Their Phone Number’
“Okay, my number has been leaked so many times that I’m not even gonna let him say it,” You declared as Drew agreed, “I know you know mine because you use it at Dunkin’ all the time.”
You just smiled at the camera as he rolled his eyes at you.
‘Their Biggest celebrity crush’
“Nick Cirillo is his.” You answered, “Nick gets more attention than I do when we’re on set. Especially this season.”
“Nick is a beautiful man, what can I say?” Drew chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, “Yours is always changing. But, if it were to come down to it, I would have to say…(y/c/c). You talk about them a lot.”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, turning to give him an ‘are you serious’ look. Drew winked at you before turning back to the computer.
‘What their nickname is’
“Drewsph is a big one between our friend group,” you said, “I call you ‘baby’ a lot. I’ve also called you Drafe before on set.”
“When have you ever called me that?” He asked, confusion on his face, “I’ve literally never heard that one.”
“I do it when we’re on set and you’re in costume but not acting,” you explained, “you’re not exactly Drew and you’re not exactly Rafe. So… you’re ‘drafe.’”
Drew just looked at you with a blank expression before looking back at the camera, “I call her ‘babe’, ‘hun’, ‘sweet girl’ has been in there a few times. Maddy calls you Pookie.”
You let out a groan , banging your head against the desk, “They didn’t need to know that.”
“You called me Joseph, it’s fair game, babe.” Drew leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head.
‘Their coffee order’
“Oh good lord. Yours is always changing,” Drew answered, looking over at you, “Your current one is (y/c/o). You also do that vanilla cold brew from Starbucks a lot.”
“Do you know exactly how I get it though?” You asked
“5 pumps of vanilla and an extra pump of sweet cream.”
“You always just either drink an iced coffee with a little bit of creamer and like a spoonful of sugar or you get an Iced Almondmilk flat white.” You answered, “because you’re weird and can’t have a normal fucking coffee order.”
Drew narrowed his eyes at you, pursing his lips in the process, “Says the one who just weeds out their coffee with creamer.”
“Because straight black coffee is disgusting.” You argued, “If I wasn’t supposed to drown out the taste of coffee with creamer, it shouldn’t have been created.”
“So dramatic.” Drew mumbled and you mocked him “ ‘so dramatic’ Yeah. Okay.”
‘Their favorite alcoholic drink’
“Yours is different every time we go out,” You looked over at Drew, who agreed, “You drink beer in the summer, corona or Coors. When we go out to dinner, you do either whiskey. On the rocks. Or some kind of cocktail.”
“Yours depends on who you’re with,” Drew said, “You and Maddy have wine parties and go crazy for Mimosas at breakfast. But when we go out, you have (y/d/c).”
You threw your head back with a laugh at how crazy you both sound, “we sound like we’re alcoholics.”
“You and Maddy are just about there.” Drew shrugged, ignoring the look you sent him.
‘Their favorite co-worker’
You rolled your eyes at your answer, “Once again, Nick. But you also spend a lot of time with Austin and JD. But out of those three, I’m going with JD. You two hang out a lot together and he’s always at our apartment.”
Drew seemed pleased enough with your answer, “I’d say…Maddy or Rudy. You and Maddy instantly clicked when you two met and hung out more than the rest of us. But with Rudy, you two always find ways to entertain yourselves when you’re left alone.”
You had a grin on your face as you looked at the camera, “It’s always a good time with Rudy. He is the definition of letting the impulsive thoughts win. There is never a dull moment with him.”
‘Their pet peeve.’
You had to think about this one. Drew was a pretty calm person when he was around everyone and didn’t let anything really bother him. You couldn’t remember if he mentioned anything that bothered him.
“People chewing with their mouths open is your top one,” Drew said, “when people don’t take their shoes off before they sit on the couch-“
You cut him off before he could continue, “First off, we have a white couch and two, is it so wrong I don’t want whatever is on their shoes to be on our furniture? That seems like a pretty reasonable one to me.”
“Okay. I’ll give you that one. You also hate it when people don’t stack their dishes whenever we leave a restaurant.”
“I was a server in high school and college and I can say, it always made my job easier when we were busy.” You argued
You looked at Drew with your head tilted in thought, struggling to think of anything, “It’s not a pet peeve but it’s something that bothers you. When people come up to you at parties and think you’re like Rafe and give zero shits about your feelings.”
Drew let out a groan as he looked at the camera, “Please don’t come up to me and ask if I wanna do coke. I don’t do coke.”
“It’s amazing how many people in LA can get their hands on it,” You added. “You hate when people go through your camera without asking. That’s a major one I can think of. You also hate when people come over-“
“I do hate it when people come over.” Drew nodded and you rolled your eyes at him. “As I was saying, mr homebody, when people come over and use the shower and don’t hang up the towels or put out new ones.”
Drew looked at you in bewilderment, “You say that you it’s not something that wouldn’t bother everyone else. I don’t want to walk into a bathroom and step on a wet towel or be showering and not have a towel in the bathroom?”
You didn’t say anything as you just stared at him. You shook your head as you turned back to the camera and Drew just mimicked you, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And there you have it! I think this proves that we know each other better than we thought we did.” You smiled, looking over at Drew, who agreed, “It’s not like we’ve been dating for three years or anything.”
“Anyways, season 3 is now streaming and if you wanna see more of us and our beautiful friends, go ahead and watch it! And we hope you enjoyed this as much as we did!”
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#outer banks imagines#rafe cameron imagine#obx#rafe obx#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron smut#obx rafe#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron fic#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader
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would you do a reader with Stevie Nicks vibes and she's like spiritual and that sort of things x Steve Harrington.
I don't have any plot ideas so i understand if you won't do it (btw sorry if you can't understand something english is my second language so I struggle a lot with it)
Not What I Expected
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize
Warnings: language, underage drinking, sexual attraction, blatant flirting, some fluff
Summary: Steve it taken by surprise when he discovers how attracted he is to one of Robins friends, especially since you were the kind of girl he never expected to like
word count: 2k
Masterlist
Steve isn’t sure why he agreed to go to a party at Robins house. He imagined something quite like Dustin and his friends playing Dungeons and Dragons in the basement. It was probably more like book club or band practice. Either way Steve knew it wouldn’t include keg stands and girls in tiny tops like his infamous party’s once did. At the end of the day though, Robin was his best friend, and that’s how he finds himself standing outside her front door with a 6pack of beer tucked under his arm and an award winning smile on his face.
“Hey dingus, you showed!” Robin grins wide, eyes a little hazy and a half drank wine cooler in her hands. Steve snorts at the sight and shakes his head as he steps inside the house she hadn’t technically welcomed him into yet.
“And you’re drunk” he states, shimmying the members only jacket off his arms and onto the rack by the door. Robin rolls her eyes at the boy with a big head of hair.
“Barely, come on. Come meet my friends” and Steve doesn’t even have a chance to set down the case of beer as Robin drags him into the living room. He’s not sure who’s more nervous, him or the array of students he was about to meet. To them he was still legend among the halls, King Steve. To himself he was nothing more than a burnout who was working at a Video Store instead of going to college.
“Guys this is Steve, Steve these are my friends” Robin presents when they enter the room and multiple pairs of eyes land on them both. Robin releases his hand and falls onto the couch beside a boy he recognized from the Paper. He had seen Nancy with him a few times.
“Hi” Steve announces with a wave, trying to ignore the awkwardness as he sets the case of beer down on the coffee table. Everyone just stares as he slides a bottle out and pops the top off with ease against the edge of the table. A natural.
“Find a seat Steve, we were just discussing marching band” and Steve groans without a thought, shuffling to the couch on the other side of the room. He had yet to glance at the two girls sat upon it when he hoists himself onto the arm.
“What, to lame for you?” an unfamiliar voice inquires. Steve drops his gaze to the girl beside him and what he doesn’t expect is the way his throat dries. You’re a bigger girl, yeah, but from where he’s sat he has a grand view of the cleavage that hangs out of your black top. It’s as if you hadn’t quite left the 70s, the outfit nearly identical to the one Stevie Nicks wears on the Rumours album. You’re the opposite of any girl he has ever taken on a date, and yet he’s suddenly at a loss of words.
“What Steve means by his vocal distaste is that he listens to me drone on and on all day about marching band. Plus I’m sure he half expected a rowdy game of beer pong” Robin says and Steve finally glances past the girl beside him to spot the infamous Vickie. Suddenly he knew exactly why Robin spoke for him before he did. He didn’t necessarily hate marching band talk, he just never heard the end of ‘Today in Marching band Vickie-’.
“I take offense to that but also any game wouldn’t kill you. Save the yapping for wine night or at least when you’re at school” his statement makes Robin rolls her eyes but nonetheless she sits up. As much as she hates to admit it she did want her small shindig to feel like a real party. Yeah she couldn’t go all out like Steve once did but she could at least make this night memorable for her friends.
“Fine Steve, any suggestions” Vickie asks, an identical wine cooler to Robins cradled to her chest and Steve thinks for a moment.
“Nothing to athletic” the newspaper kid points out. Steve somewhat recalls Ned, maybe Fred?
“Fred, it’s Steve. Everything he does is athletic” the girl beside him pipes up. He doesn’t even have time to recognize he had recalled the boys name correctly when he’s reminded of your presence.
“Thanks Rhiannon, I’ll take that as a compliment. As for you Fred, crack a beer and live a little” Steve says, adoring the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden nickname while he tosses one of his beers to the scrawny boy.
“Does that mean you have a game in mind?” Robin asks her best friend, worrying just a little that mixing these two crowds may have been the wrong choice.
“Yeah Robin, I do”
That’s how the group finds themselves on the back patio, a boom box playing a Survivor song a touch too loud, while Steve sets cups along the table. Robin furrows her eyebrows when she eyes six cups along the table instead of five. Everybody watches silently as the tall boy works at setting up the perfect game.
“Alright me and Rhiannon are Captains, she gets first pick” Steve claps his hands and Robin finally points at the red solo cups sat before them.
“Steve, there’s only five of us” she says and Steve grins at his friend.
“I know, that’s why Rhiannon has first pick. I’ll play double for my team which will put us at disadvantage” Steve tells her and Robin isn’t entirely sure that’s a disadvantage when she looks at the friends surrounding them.
“You know that’s not my name right?” you tell the boy as you stand beside him, prepared to make your first pick.
“Yeah, but I think you love it anyway” and you can’t help the soft blush that dusts your cheeks. You almost want to curse yourself for being no different than any other girl that falls for the charm of Steve Harrington.
“I pick Robin” you announce to remove his attention off you and Robin grins at being the first one picked. Quickly she shuffles to the side of the table you stand on. Steve crosses his arms as he looks between his two options. As much as he can guarantee Vickie is better at the game he wants to provide his best friend the opportunity of standing next to her all night.
“I’ll take Freddie” Steve says, waving his hand. The boy with glasses too big for his face nervously steps over despite the shock that King Steve has just picked him to be on a team. Vickie grins at the girls, rushing over and pulling them into a hug that doesn’t fail to make Robins entire face red.
“The game is simple, finish your drink, flip the cup, and move on to the next person. It’s a relay, and relies on teamwork, think you can handle it?” Steve asks, eyebrows lifting at his opponent who’s even prettier up close. Your eyes are mesmerizing even through the smudged makeup and your wide sleeve brushes the table each time you reach for your cup. Steve is shocked to find how attracted to it he is.
“Me and Rhiannon start, when our cup lands the next person drinks and does the same. Ready?” Steve asks, eyebrows jumping and smirk on his face. You look at him determined, mimicking his movements when he taps his cup to the table, lifts it to your own, taps the table again, then dumps the liquid down his throat.
It’s no surprise to anyone that Steve lands the cup on the first try. It takes you two but Fred’s struggling saves your team the time anyway. Steve is now on his other side, waiting for Fred to land so he can take the final drink. While he struggles both you and Vickie cheer when Robin lands it on her second try. By the time Vickie has finished her gulp, Fred finally lands, and Steve dumps his second drink down his throat as quick as he can. Yet it’s not fast enough because Vickie lands on her first try just as Steve sets up to flip his own. The girls cheer as Fred gives Steve a sheepish look. As much as Steve hates losing he squeezes the boys shoulder anyway.
“Nice work Fred” he praises and a large smile breaks across the boys face.
“Take that Steve!” Robin shouts and Steve laughs as he starts to reset the cups for the next round.
“You won’t be saying that for long Rob. Rotate” Steve grins at her and they do as he says, adjusting the team’s order, putting Robin and Fred at the start.
None of them are entirely sure how many games have been played but Steve is highly aware that he’s run out of beer and is beginning to feel the buzz of playing double on his team for so long. Robin is clearly tired and starting to slouch against Vickie so he calls it and deems the girls the winners.
“So, do we get a prize?” you ask him with a teasing glance, the alcohol giving you more confidence then you should have when talking to the popular boy. Steve eyes Robin and Vickie sleepily sitting on the patio furniture, offering them no attention while Fred went inside to use the bathroom.
“Depends, what do you want?” Steve asks, leaning closer and almost begging for the girl to want to kiss him.
“More nights like these” you answer simply and Steve furrows his brows, giving you a questioning glance that you don’t miss. “It’s just, I’ve never seen my friends so happy. You did that for them Steve”
“It was a drinking game” he states and you shrug, looking around the back patio lit up by string lights. The smell of beer is in the air and your friends are falling asleep, but it’s the most content you’ve ever been.
“To you maybe, but for us we finally felt like we were apart of something” you say, turning back to look at him just to find he’s already staring you down with the same intensity he had all night. In fact you’d never had a guy look at you like that, like he so badly wanted to kiss you. You never expected it to be Steve Harrington of all people.
“Can I take you on a date?” Steve suddenly asks and you can’t stop the shock that covers your features. It’s the last thing you had expected him to say.
“You don’t even know my real name Steve” you tell him and he grins, shrugging his shoulders and scooting closer to you.
“Don’t worry about it, you can tell me on our date” he tells you and you snort out a laugh, shaking your head at the boy and beginning to understand why Robin was so fond of him.
“I haven’t even agreed yet” you tell him but he just smiles, nudging his shoulder against your own.
“That doesn’t matter, I’ll pick you up here at 7. I’m sure Robin would love to help you get ready” he grins wide and you sigh, looking up into his large and kind eyes. Much different from how they had looked back when he was still in High School.
“Fine, I’ll be here at 7” you agree and he grins wide before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Great! See you then, I’m gonna go check on Fred” and he’s gone as soon as he appeared and you smile wide when he disappears into the house. Realizing you who once felt so different from anyone else, unable to be an object of desire, was going on a date with Steve Harrington.
“Man am I in trouble”
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Let me
a/n: it's 9am...shame is nonexistent
tags: reiner x f!reader, virginity, submissiveish reiner, oral m!receiving, loss of virginity (reiner), cowgirl position, he’s a bit clueless but not annoyingly clueless
kinktober day one: virginity
!!minors DNI!!
“Have you really never slept with anyone?”
Reiner shrugged, sipping the last of his drink and sliding it across back to the bartender, who silently asked if he wanted another, which he nodded in reply.
“I mean I’ve gotten close, but.” Shying away at your brash question, wishing this could be a conversation elsewhere or not at all.
“Define close.” You asked, leaning back in your seat with a knowing smile, needing to know how the hunk of a man in front of you hasn’t gotten laid at least once.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Ugh come on, I’m just curious! How has someone as attractive as you not had a dozen or more women in your bed.” Shoving his shoulder playfully to try and get him to loosen up. Blame it on the alcohol but you weren’t convinced he hasn’t fucked before and shamelessly wanted the details, there was no way he didn’t fuck women’s brains out and leaving them begging for more.
“I don’t know, just hasn’t happened.” Reaching for his refilled glass of bourbon from the bartender, contemplating if he should down it all at once to keep up with this conversation or savor it in hopes that you’ll drop it.
"Is it because you're nervous? Scared you'll mess something up?' Continuing on with your questions, even though the man beside you looked less than willing to indulge you, irritation settling into his guise.
"I really just want to drop it." Whipping his heard around to face you in the stool next to him, brows pinched with a thin-lipped frown.
Holding your hands up to surrender, you couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well, I'm always down to give you pointers, if you know what I mean."
Despite being initially irritated with you, Reiner broke out into the tiniest of smiles, understanding the playful humor in your words.
A couple weeks had passed since then, going about your life and occasionally talking to him. Reiner was your closest friend, meeting a couple of years ago through mutual friends between each other. At the time, you were dating someone and kept things respectful, even if you found him wildly attractive and wanted to climb him like a tree. Now you were single, living life with no pursuit of getting into a relationship, but your attraction to Reiner didn't go away, only seem to be inflamed since breaking up with your ex.
The hints you were dropping weren't doing the job like you wanted, Reiner was either clueless or brushing them off, not feeling the same towards you. But now knowing he was a virgin, scrambled things in your brain, made things even more confusing.
A night in on a Friday evening were your plans, catching up on some shows, tidying your place up a bit and just relaxing. That was until you received a cryptic text from Reiner asking if he could come over and get some help from you. Of course you said yes, not even know what it could be about, it's not like you were busy.
He looked flustered when you opened the door to your apartment, coyly smiling and slipping inside, going straight to the couch to sit. Not thinking too much of it, you joined him, crossing your legs underneath you and facing towards him.
"Everything okay?"
He sighed, placing his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. Reiner didn't say anything for a moment, both his legs bouncing up and down with nerves, making you turn slightly concerned for what this was about.
"I don't really know how to ask this, it's kinda embarrassing and I don't want it to ruin anything between us."
Nodding slowly, setting your half drunk glass of wine down on the coffee table, you looked at him.
"Can't be that bad, just ask." Smiling warmly, leaning into your fist on your temple.
Letting out another sigh, Reiner groaned, slouching into the couch and staring at the ceiling. He was flushed red, embarrassingly red from the way he spoke and how uncomfortable he looked sitting on your couch, something he's done a hundred times.
"I want some pointers." Murmuring under his breath, still looking at the ceiling.
Pointer? For what? That was so vague you couldn't begin to think of what he needed pointers on or for.
"Okay...? For what exactly?"
Sitting up, scooting to face you more, Reiner looked at you with a stern stone faced expression, like you were already supposed to know what he was talking about.
"When we were at the bar, and you offered pointers for, ya know." Kind of whispering when he spoke, like there were others in your apartment that could possibly hear what he was saying.
Blame it on the bit of wine you had, you stared at him a little blankly, trying to recall what he was talking about. That night was a little blurry as both of you were drinking, but when it finally hit you what he was referring to, your mouth shut and your eyes widened.
"Oh. You want "pointers" for that." Using air quotes around the word, attempting to be lighthearted but quickly seeing the embarrassment spread across his face. It was sweet the way he was asking, not trying to come off too blunt or wrong for what he was asking.
"I didn't know who else to go to and the conversation got me a bit, it's not your fault but I just want to know what to do if I ever get the chance." Sputtering out and stumbling on his words, Reiner somehow turned even more red and like he was ready to sprint out your front door to never return.
Letting out a breath, you scoot closer to him on the couch, watching him sit up straight and scan you over with his eyes. He was trying to psychoanalyze what you were going to do or say, nervous he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship and partially regretting bringing this up at all.
"I can help you, give you pointers. But you know for this kind of thing, physical teaching is best," Pausing to give him a reassuring smile and place a hand on his leg. "Is that something you want?"
Reiner swallowed thickly, adam's apple bobbing nervously and the gears behind his eyes turning in contemplation. You kept your line of vision on him, not moving a muscle till he gave you an answer. Deep down you hoped he would be okay with it, more than happy to show him how to please a woman and how to get pleasure of out of having sex with one. Indulgences aside, you would've been willing anyway, being such good friends for a couple of years now.
"Yeah, I'll do whatever you say, just teach me, please." Breathlessly replying, following your movements as you stood from the couch, holding out your hand to lead him to your bedroom. His large hand engulfed yours timidly, so warm against your skin it sent goosebumps up your arm.
Once the two of you were in your bedroom, he seemed to relax, only a little as he took off the jacket he wore and laid across the desk chair in your room. His biceps swelled against the fabric of his short sleeves, distracting you as you were trying to dim the lighting to better set the mood.
Patting the edge of the bed where you sat, Reiner shuffled over after kicking off his shoes, sitting with a little more distance than you'd like, scooting closer and running a hand over his chest. He stiffened, trying to gauge what you were doing.
"For the best experience, it's always better to build up to it, instead of jumping straight in. So, have you ever kissed or made out with someone?"
"A couple times yeah."
Humming, you moved your hand to hold the side of his face, turning him to face you completely, leaning in close. "Kiss me then, do whatever feels natural."
Reiner cleared his throat, bringing his hand to hold the side of your face as well, leaning in until his lips brushed across yours, just barely. You were going to let him lead for now, since he knew what to do right now, sighing softly into his lips when yours finally met. They were so plush and soft, not what you were expecting. He was still nervous as his kissed you with closed lips, but you teasingly swiped your tongue across his bottom one, getting him to part just enough to slot your lips together.
The hand on the side of your face moved to the back of your head as he got comfortable with the flow of your lips dancing together, running his other up and down your arm. Reiner was eager, or getting there as he didn't break away once. Your fingers tangled into the short blonde locks at the back of his hair, pulling yourself in closer, trying not to get ahead of yourself.
"Like that?" Whispering into the space between your mouths when he pulled away, breathing a little heavy from the extended lack of air.
"Mhm, keep going, do whatever feels right." Encouraging him with another smile, curious of what he would do next, whether that be hauling you into his lap or moving his lips to kiss along your jawline or neck.
Almost with hesitation, Reiner slipped the hand running up and down your arm under your thigh, indicating he was about to haul you into his lap. Helping him out, swinging your legs on either side of him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and bent down some to meet his lips again. He groaned oh so softly at that, resting his hands on your hips, making you thing he was going to scoot your further onto his lap instead of just sitting on his thighs. And surprisingly he didn't, keeping you right where you were and devouring your mouth eagerly.
Taking a bit of initiative yourself, you moved to sit right over his crotch, rolling your hips once and smiling at the surprised gasp behind his lips still pressed to yours. His eyes snapped open, the obvious question of 'what are you doing' swirling in his irises. Pulling away, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you smiled.
"Just helping in building the tension, getting us both worked up and needy."
A slow nod came, still nervous rather than confused, making you realize he hasn't gotten as far as you presumed he had. Knowing he was placing a lot if trust into your hands, you rolled your hips again, a bit firmer, watching him stifle a groan. He was growing hard beneath you, pitching a thick tent in his jeans and you could only imagine how uncomfortable it must've been.
"Here," Sliding down from his lap, reaching for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. "Undress a bit, it'll feel better."
Instead of moving, Reiner's eyes hungrily traces over your chest, staring right at your bra and nearly missing you pulling your sweats down, left in only a bra and panties. He broke from the trance, unbuttoning his jeans after undoing his belt and ripping him off his legs, now much more eager as he was about to get a taste of something he's never had before. It was cute, endearing almost, making you feel like a predator closing in on its prey with solid intent. You swung your legs back over either side of him, hovering over his clothed erection as you slipped his shirt off yourself.
"If at any point you want to stop, just tell me." Running your hands on top of his shoulders, down his biceps and eventually to his hands to place them back on your hips, still hovering above him.
"I don't think I will but, I appreciate it." Breathily responding, looking at you with stars in his eyes, wetting his lips and craning his neck back to look up at you.
"Of course, but you'll communicate with me right, I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable." Teasingly lowering your hips, almost brushing your clothed cunt over his erection and seeing the anticipation run throughout his body, how much he was craving the touch.
"Yeah, I trust you. Just show me how and what I've been missing out on." God, his voice was so desperate sounding, yearning for the experienced touch and the knowledge that was within his grasp, dangled in front of him by you.
Softening, your fingers threaded through the back of his hair, finally sitting on his lap all the way, giving a roll of your hips and drinking in the sweet sound of his groan. His fingers dug into your hips, releasing quickly and palming the area instead. To keep him occupied and not distracted by new sensations, you smashed his lips to your, kissing him insistently, eagerly and with one goal in mind. Reiner melted to your touch, gaining a bit of confidence with his hands, allowing one of them to reach up to your neck and the other start to guide your hips back and forth. He was falling into bliss, on his way to getting drunk on lust, and that was exactly how you wanted him.
Pushing him back with a hand to his chest, you fell with him on the bed, reaching around to unhook your bra, sitting up and breaking the kiss so he could set his eyes on your tits. You cupped them proudly after your bra was tossed, giggling to his wide eyes and parted lips, letting your humming laugh turn into a moan when you tweaked your nipples with your thumb and index.
Gyrating slowly to a beat in your head, your thumb and index pinched and pulled on your nipples, turning them hard and pointed. Reiner couldn't help but reach a hand up, move one of yours out of the way and engulf the flesh in his hand. His palm was warm and gentle, his touch hesitant as he pressed the pad of his thumb down onto your hard nipple, earning a squeak from you.
"That okay?" Asking with concern almost, like he couldn't differentiate the noises you made just yet.
"Yea, just let your instincts guide you." Letting your head fall back, letting out a sigh of a moan as he rubbed his thumb in circles on your nipple.
It was then Reiner sat up on his elbows, craning his head to flick the tip of his tongue on the same nipple. To help him out, you bent forward, pushing your tit into his mouth and groaning in relief when he sucked and swirled his tongue around the bud. He caught on quickly and had the touch of someone who knew what they were doing, which was a welcomed surprise. He hummed into your skin, looking at you with the equivalent of doe eyes, checking in to make sure everything he was doing was right, so eager to please.
Running a hand through his thick blonde hair, pressing down hard on his clothed dick, you let your head fall back, squeaking out a whine or two.
"Reiner, fuck-"
He stopped, coming off with a pop and letting out a few heavy breaths. "W-what?"
"Keep going."
The relief coming over him at the realization that you were exclaiming in pleasure to his ministration and not the opposite, it was so sweet that he cared as much as he did.
He gripped the other one in his hand as his mouth, returned to sucking and swirling his tongue, getting more into it with the muffle of groans and twitching of his hips, which reminded you to resume what you were doing earlier. You didn't even have to see to know he was painfully hard, throbbing beneath his boxers from doing more than making out and fisting his own cock.
Pulling back just a little, you slipped his dick out of the waistband of his boxers, thumbing over the flushed red tip. Reiner audibly groans this time and pulls off of your tit, shaking as he inhales a few breaths. He watches as the pad your thumb swirl the bead of pre-cum around the head with rapt attention.
"Feels different from when I do it." Muttering under his breath, fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter.
" 'Suppose to, someone else's touch is always going to feel different, better."
Tightening your hand into a fist, you let it descend down to the base of his cock, getting a better idea of how thick he was. There was a considerable amount of length to him, but fuck was he thick. Even if it wasn't his first time, fucking into your tight pussy may send him over the edge after a few strokes.
"Such a pretty cock, nice and thick too." Idly commenting, lazily stroking him from base to tip, his face contorting in pleasure from your hand and the inner struggle of not releasing too soon.
"Won't hurt too much for you?"
"No. As long as there's prep neither of us will have to worry about anything." Smiling a little deviously, seeing as he was so blissed out that he hadn't caught on to your insinuation, which anyone else would've.
Sinking down to the floor on your knees, taking his boxers along the way, you hummed sweetly, eye to eye with his dick now. Running a long stripe on the underside of his cock, kissing the tip, you heard the man grapple with quieting the noises admitting from him. Eventually he wouldn't be so shy, wouldn't conceal those pretty moans and whines, letting whoever it was he was fucking enjoy knowing they were making him feel good.
Carefully reaching the tip after a few long stripes to the underside of his cock, you enclosed your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks out to harshly suck. His hips rutted, or tried to, as you began, whining under his breath and keeping his eyes trained on you. That pitiful look on his face with a hint of innocence still was making you press your thighs together. Reiner was already so attractive, but he looked so pretty like this, trapped under you metaphorically and literally here soon.
Knowing the head of his cock was good and sensitive now from your undivided attention to it, you opened your mouth and relaxed your throat, taking him all the way down and holding yourself there, inhaling the musk of his skin as your nose pressed underneath his naval.
"Oh fuck - shit." He cursed, clenching a fist and biting down on his knuckles as he met your eyes. They were watery and rapidly blinking while keeping the fat cock deep in your throat. Reiner gaped, huffing and puffing, doing everything in his power not to cum down your throat.
Humming around his dick, you moved to pull off, but not all the way. Bobbing up and down slowly, dragging your lips over the veins and ridges on the appendage granted you the sweet decadent whimper from the blonde man experiencing ecstasy for the first time. You didn't let up either, kept moving up and down, moaning around his cock and fluttering your eye lashes. Reiner had either made a mistake or the greatest decision coming to you for 'pointers', going out of your way to give him a hell of a first time to think back on.
"Wait! Stop I'm about...I'm about to cum." The plea was so strained and raspy, it sent shivers down your spin, reluctantly pulling off and letting the pre-cum and saliva drip down your chin.
"Sorry, I didn't want to cum in your mouth, rather do it somewhere else." Bashfully saying as he was still catching his breath, watching you stand up and slipping your sheer panties down your legs, kicking them aside.
"And where would that be exactly?" Teasing him even though you knew the answer, pushing him back by the chest until he scooted more onto the bed, moving to standing on your knees and pressing them into his hips.
Reiner's mouth opened and closed as he grappled with the answer, not wanting to say it aloud for whatever the reason may be. But you pressed by wrapping a hand back around the base of his saliva coated dick, leaning to hover over him, chuckling under your breath.
"Inside."
"Inside where?"
A displeased whine emanated from his tightly pressed lips, squeezing his eyes shut as you squeezed your hand around him.
"Inside your pussy." Reiner's words being so breathless and airy as he spoke, emphasizing the craving deep inside him to sink and stretch his cock around your plush inviting walls and who were you to deny him?
Releasing your hand from around him, you then moved to slide the sensitive tip of his dick through your folds, cooing at his overwhelmed reaction.
"When a girl rides you, it's always important to let her sit herself down, especially with your size, don't want to hurt her." Going back to advising him on future endeavor despite hating the idea of anyone else getting the privilege of riding his cock.
He nodded in response, tensing when the head slipped inside, sputtering out more groans and gasps. You bit down on your bottom lip to compose yourself, just the very tip of him stretching you out more than expected.
"Make sure to let her adjust too, don't just start slamming her down or up into her." Continuing on while slowly sinking down all the way, until he was bottomed out inside you. God he was bigger than he looked, feeling so fucking full and neither of you had moved yet.
"Fuck this feels so good, so tight oh my god." His beautiful face pinched in pleasure, letting his hands instinctively rest on your hips and caress the area as you adjusted.
"Feel how you expected?" Teasing as an arch in your back grew, raising your hips off of him half way and sinking them back down painfully slow.
"No, you feel so much better than I could've dreamt of baby."
Reiner caught you off guard for a second. Had you misheard him? There's no way he'd dreamt of fucking you like he just said, you swore he didn't even like you like, current situation aside. Deciding to not give it much thought, you resumed softly moving your hips up and down before you began to bounce, really not wanting him to cum too early. Though, the man was eager, gripping your hips and trying to move faster, chasing the sweet taste of relief.
Moving to bouncing up and down on his cock, you saw as something flip inside Reiner, confidence taking over and greediness swirling with the lust in those golden eyes of his. He grunted with each slam of your pussy, pushing his cock deeper inside you each time, prodding against your cervix it felt like.
"You're going to cum if you don't slow down." Doing your best to hide the moan hidden behind your words, not shy to admit being slammed down onto his cock didn't feel good. In fact it felt heavenly. His fat dick sliding and rubbing along your walls, stretching your pussy to take each stroke and bullying its way across the spongy spot inside you had you focusing not to cum too quickly and end this with him.
"Tryin' to make you cum," Reiner huffed, grasping your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, gritting his teeth as he concentrated on meeting your hips with his. You weren't expecting yourself to be loosing it as quickly as you were but, fuck it felt so god damn good.
"Fuck, then keep doing what you're doing, don't change anything just - keep fucking me." Letting your head dip, planting your hands on either side of his head and unleashing all the unfiltered noises that had been trapped in your throat.
First time or not, Reiner picked up on things quickly, once the nervousness of it all dwindled and he allowed his confidence to take the reins. You had to remind yourself to savor every second of this, not knowing if this would be the only time, but having a strong feeling it might be. Oh well. At least you were his first and not someone random, at least you were able to teach him a bit and prevent him from awkwardly stumbling around for his first time.
"Next time I want you to teach me how to eat that pussy of yours, get it nice and wet so I'll just slide right in." Growling right into your ear, bending on of his legs at the knees to give him a better angle to fuck into you.
"Wha?" So gone, barely understanding what he just said, partially not believing it.
"I still have a lot to learn don't I?" Now he sounded smug, a half smirk pulling on one corner of his mouth when you slightly turned to look at his face.
"I guess you do yeah." Giving him the same half smirk and slamming your hips all the way down unexpectedly, grasping his chin and holding it tight. "Now cum inside me like you said you wanted to big boy."
His eyes rolled back into his head, sucking in a sharp breath, keeping you flush to his hips as he vigorously rutted his hips up into yours, pushing the head of his cock to what felt like all the way to your stomach. You cried out, nails creating crescents in his skin as you moaned and writhed above him, reaching your own orgasm while adding fuel to his own until the rutting stopped and warmth filled the walls of your pussy.
A low deep groan came with each pulse and spurt inside of you, sweat beading at his hairline and neck, rolling down his glistening skin. When his hand released your hips, you slipped off of him, ruined and oversensitive pussy hovering over his cock, letting Reiner watch his cum leak out from your entrance and drip down onto his softening dick. He tried to get up, but you pushed him back down, shuffling to the bathroom to clean up and him when you got back.
You'd never seen him so relaxed, tired and content at once, sprawled out in the middle of your bed, catching his breath once again.
"After care is important, don't just fuck someone and leave." Gently running the warm damp wash rag over his lower body, cleaning up your combined messes.
"Yeah," Sighing contently, sitting up all the way and looking directly at you with the all too familiar bashfulness from earlier. "What I said when we were, um - if you don't feel the same way-"
Cutting him off with a press of your finger to his lips. "Let's talk about all that in the morning, we're tired and it's late."
Softening once again with a small relief, Reiner nodded, moving off the bed so you could pull back the comforter, slipping inside and snuggling up beside him into his chest with his arm wrapped around you, allowing the two of you to drift off to sleep.
#reiner braun#attack on titan#reiner x reader#reiner smut#snk#aot reiner#reiner x you#aot smut#snk smut#snk x reader#snk reiner#kinktober
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