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brattyspence · 2 months ago

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sober thoughts | s.reid

summary: pining!reader makes a drunk call to spencer after going out with friends, and is aggressively trying to flirt with him.

tags: reader is DRUNK! alcohol!! dont read if thats not okay!!, fluffy as fuck, spencer is the most gentle of gentlemen, pining!reader, reader wears makeup/dress/heels, spencer is lowkey bad at flirting but he shows affection in weird ways, one use of Y/N (sorry i know)

a/n: this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. sigh.

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

He was used to seeing you tipsy, if that was even the right word for it.

You were friends, after all. Best friends, even. And the fact that he lived only a few doors down from the pub the team frequented made it stupid not to offer his couch to you after going out with the team.

You weren’t a heavy drinker by any stretch of the imagination. Every now and then on a Friday night, you’d head out with the team and have one, maybe two drinks if you were feeling particularly adventurous–but you still didn’t want to drive home, especially when he was offering his home to you. Truthfully, you just liked getting to hang out with him. You liked getting to exist in his orbit and discuss a random topic late into the night. It had become normal for you, an excuse to do something together that didn’t revolve around work.

What was not normal was the fact that it was a Saturday at 11 PM and you were really drunk, calling him.

Your contact photo filled his screen, illuminating the dark room. You weren’t one to call, preferring the convenience of a text. Especially this late, which worried him a bit. He picked up quickly, tucking the phone to his ear.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hey, Spencer?” It wasn’t your voice. “This is Molly, Y/N’s friend. I’m sorry to call so late. We’re out with some friends from college celebrating someone’s birthday, and she got… like, drunk drunk, kinda sloppy… and she’s been blabbing about you for a while. She wanted me to call you.”

“Oh,” he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, preparing himself. “Can you put her on?”

“Yeah. Not sure you’ll get anything out of her, though. Here…”

He can hear the general chatter and chaos of the bar over the call. There’s some rustling sounds before you finally take the phone.

“Hi,” you say, your voice dripping with a certain kind of fondness. He can hear the smile through the screen.

“Hey,” he replies. ”You having fun?”

“Oh, Spencer, I was… I haven’t heard your voice in so long. What’re you…” you trail off, lifting the phone from your ear to answer someone else. “Sorry. ‘S so loud in here.

He chuckles to himself. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Yeah, ‘nd that was… Oh, I can’t do math right now. A long time ago.”

“Are you okay?”

On the other side of town, you were sitting in a barstool, swiping your finger along the beads of condensation rolling down the glass of water in front of you.

“Mhm. ‘M good. Fine. Drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he smiles. “Are you gonna be able to get home?”

“Uhh…” you pause. “I was gonna Uber… but then I thought that maybe… if you weren't busy… we could hang out…”

He could vaguely make out dialog on the other end of the phone. Some kind of “Girl, this sounds really pathetic,” followed by a “Shhhh!” in two other drunken voices.

“But I could also make Molly order me an Uber,” you added. “‘S okay. Nevermind.”

“No, you're not getting in an Uber inebriated. That’s ridiculous.”

“‘M not inebriated.”

A background voice comes back. “Yeah, you are.”

Spencer sighs into the phone. “Just… send me your location, please? I’ll come get you.”

“O-kay. ‘M sending it right now, jus’ tell me when you-”

The call went dead before you could finish your thought, which he chalked up to some kind of drunken user error. A few seconds later a text came through

You: dropped a pin

You: its molly again. let me know if you got this

He responded, relieved that you had someone looking after you, before getting ready and grabbing his keys.

You were sitting on a bench outside the bar. The air was cool and crisp, but you were warm, your skin clammy from the alcohol. You had been mumbling something incoherent about Spencer, he’s just so good to me, Molly, and oh, god, I don’t know what to do with myself, and…

Molly, who had been trying to sober you up (unsuccessfully), was standing in front of you, arms crossed, listening to your incessant rambling.

“...’nd sometimes he talks to me, ‘nd I have no idea what he’s talking about but he’s so hot when he’s smart. You should hear, it, Mol’.”

Cars pass on the street behind you, filling the silence momentarily. Molly looks over her shoulder, scanning the street before turning back to you. “Alright. Be quiet. He’s here”

“Don’t care.”

She puts her hand out to help you up, which you accept rising to your feet. You’re surprised by how unsteady you feel, but you focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll make fun of you for this tomorrow,” she says.

You only have a few seconds to grumble in protest before Spencer reaches you. He scans you quickly, chuckling to himself.

“You are a mess,” he says, amused.

You feel slightly infantilized watching Molly hand over all your personal effects to him. You weren’t even sure when you’d put down your wallet and keys, much less where, but you’re thankful she picked them up and not someone else.

“Good luck,” She tells him. She pats your arm before turning back to the bar, leaving you alone on the street with him.

“You okay?” He asks. You watch him shuck off his jacket, which he helps you slide over your arms.

“‘M fine,” you reply. “Warm.”

“Because you’re drunk.” He keeps his eyes trained on the zipper of the jacket, or really anywhere that isn't you in that dress. “Alcohol is a vasodilator. So you feel warm. But it's forty degrees outside, and hypothermia doesn't care.”

You pout at him, watching as he pulls the zipper tab up enough to shield you from the cold. Only then does he really look at you.

“I wanted you to see my pretty dress,” you pout. Your words come out slurred still.

You meet his eyes for a split second. He opens his mouth, seemingly about to reply, but quickly decides against it. He shakes his head as if to clear the thought.

“Come on. We gotta get you home.”

“You don't like it?”

“I didn't say that.” He tucks a hand under your arm as you begin back down the street, keeping you steady.

“So you do like it?” You look over at him, your face more excited than he was expecting.

“It’s very pretty,” he replies.

Your shoulder bumps his as you walk, seemingly unable to maintain a straight path along the sidewalk. The click of your heels against the pavement is uneven, despite your efforts to maintain some kind of composure, and unfortunately for you, he’s right, and it's freezing outside. You make steady progress down the block, placing all your focus on not falling flat on your face. Thankfully, he doesn't live all that far.

“D’you think I look pretty, too?” You ask, approaching the steps to his apartment.

“What are you trying to do?” he asks, looking down at you. He takes in the slight flush of your cheeks as the effects of the alcohol battle the chill in the air.

“I’m trying to flirt with you. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, you're going to be difficult all night, aren't you?” He sighs, ignoring the question. He pauses outside the door, keys in hand, and unlocks the door before guiding you inside.

“You don't ever want to flirt with me.”

The door falls shut behind you with a clunk. The room is dark, with only the distant light from a lamp somewhere across the room illuminating it. You squint when he turns on the big light.

“That’s not true,” he says, quietly. If you weren’t hanging on to his every word, you might have missed it. He carefully unzips the jacket, tugging it off your shoulders and setting it on the table.

“So why won’t you flirt with me right now?”

“Because you’re drunk,” He guides you towards the couch, his touch still careful as ever.

You flop down onto the cushions. The leather sticks to your legs as you sit. Being the gentleman he is, he has already left pajamas out, his pajamas, you’d since claimed as your own, with the blanket you steal every time you stay over.

“So what?” You begin working at the clasp on your heels, fumbling with the leather straps to no avail.

“So, you’re drunk.” He repeats, reappearing in front of you. He sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, and hands you a pack of makeup wipes. “Do you need help with your shoes?”

You nod. A soft breath of laughter escapes him as he leans in to help you take them off, setting them on the carpeted floor.

“Spence,” you look at the pack of wipes. “Why do you have these?”

“Because every time you’re here you forget them,” he replies.

“Oh.” You rip them open. “You don’t have a secret girlfriend?”

“No,” he replies, lowering your foot back to the ground.

“You don't let other drunk girls sleep over?” You paw at your eyeliner, effectively smearing it around more than removing it.

“I don't let anyone sleep over,” he says, taking the wipe from you. “Just you. Close your eyes.”

“Because you love me?”

His fingers find the underside of your chin, gently tilting your face towards his so he can finish swiping away the last of your eyeliner. Maybe you’re blushing as a result of the alcohol warming your bloodstream, but the more likely answer is him, at this proximity.

As soon as he’s done wiping your eyes, you open them again to look up at him.

“You’re bold when you’re drunk,” he says, smiling. He sets the used wipe down on the table.

“Mhm. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not going to,” He says. “Sorry. Go get changed.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’,” you say. You collect the clothes off the couch and slink across the apartment into the bathroom to change. You don’t bother shutting the bathroom door before slinking off the dress you were wearing and sliding on the pajamas he’d left for you. Once you finish, you collect your dress off the floor and make your way back towards the couch, settling right into the cushions as you frequently did on nights like this.

You were formulating another complaint about his lack of reciprocation, but your thoughts were interrupted as he pulled the blanket on his couch over you. Your blanket, or at least one you’d claimed as your own during one of your nights spent here. He had already turned off the ceiling fan, which you’d always insisted off when you slept over. You followed him with your gaze as he turned the lights off, swapping them instead for a smaller, softer light somewhere in the kitchen, remembering the way you’d always insisted he leave a light on somewhere, just for you. Your phone was already charging on a side table, your heels sitting nicely by the door, your keys on his key holder, evidence of you, everywhere, details that were distinctly for your comfort. Maybe you had missed his signals.

“I think you do love me…”

He reappeared a moment later, crouching in front of you with that look. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Go to sleep.”

“And I love you. And I called you because I wanted to tell you that.”

“You really need to sleep it off. You’re saying things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean it,” you whined. “I swear. Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You won’t remember this tomorrow,” he laughed.

“But I will. I promise,” you replied. “No bedtime kiss?”

Of course, this time you did pick up the way he looked at you.

“No, honey. Maybe tomorrow.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid fluff #my things!

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ifwdominicfike · 5 months ago

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matt loves to feed into your love for his hands.

── .✦. ──

this is the 3rd time today you’ve caught yourself staring at matts arms, if it wasn’t his arms it was his hands. the way the veins spread out and then trailed up to his forearms, you were practically drooling.

he knows this too, he’s caught you staring at him multiple times. he hasn’t told you anything yet though, watching you watch his every move when he wears a tank top or when he’s playing videos games with his brothers, he knows you’re staring.

how could you not though?? he was basically teasing you at this point, like the other day for example, he had gotten some new rings and was desperate to show you them.

“sweetheart come look at these new rings i got” you make your way to your shared bedroom and see him staring at his hands, flexing them making the veins more prominent. that infamous grin while doing so is telling you everything you needed to know.

your eyes fixating on his hands immediately, the way he stretched out his fingers to show off the rings made your thighs clench.

noticing the gleam across your face made his grin widen, “you like them doll? or are ya’ gonna keep ogling at them hm?” he takes your hand into his and start peppering kisses to your knuckles. you couldn’t take it anymore, his teasing words, his stupid grin, just him. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, your lips locking with his and you feel a hand cup your jaw and the other grip onto your hair.

“y’think you’re so fucking slick huh? staring at me like that with your thighs clenched like i wouldn’t notice, needy girl” he continues down your neck as his hands roam down your body, you gasp at the sudden movement of you being picked up. you’re back now lying against his white sheets “pl..please! matt- need you s’bad” you whine “gotta be more specific than that baby, what do you need from me sweet girl?” he grips onto your legs and places them on his shoulders “pl-please baby.. don’t t-tease me-“

your voice becoming more and more needy “aw, poor thing can’t take a little bit of teasing? such a desperate whore.” he starts sliding off your shorts, those being thrown and forgotten somewhere in the room while he stuffs your lace panties in his back pocket.. “so soaked f’me, all this over what? my hands?” he laughs in your face, tracing his fingers up and down your slick. you yelp out once you feel him slap your cunt, that same stupid grin on his face as he watched you squirm.

“fuck matt- come on pleasee, been such a g-good girl f’you” you grind against his hand, aching for any kind stimulation what so ever. “okay sweetheart, i guess you’ve had enough” you hum in agreement, you feel his slim fingers dip into you, the feeling of the cool metal from the rings sending goosebumps down your spine. “o-oh! mhm.. please!” you pleaded “yeah? s’this all you needed baby? dumb girl just needed my fingers thats all”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first smut!! i was thinking of making this a full fic but i didnt.. anyways school has been beating me up pray for me 😞 okayy well thats all for now bye i love youu ᥫ᭡ !!

#— ⋆ ˚｡ writings .ᐟ ꩜#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader

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angelicblondie · 7 months ago

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morning wood

MDNI - rafe x princess!reader

you woke up to the steady sound of rafes breaths against your ears as he slept peacefully - and of course, the erection placed on your backside.

you craned your head to look at him - and he looks oh so peacful. it was adorable, the way his brows were even furrowed as he slept, never truly relaxing. his lips were just slightly parted, letting out long deep breaths every now and then.

as creepy as it sounded, you just loved to watch rafe sleep. he was truly the cutest, but you knew you could never tell him that - he would be such a grump.

you hum groggily, arching you back off of rafes chest as you stretched a bit, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. you pink nightie had risen up to your hips overnight, leaving you bottom half exposed. rafe, still in his slumber, protectively wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him. you giggle quietly, and once again check him over you shoulder, biting you lip. expieremntally, you press you back against his crotch, to which he groans softly, eyes scrunching up.

"baby," he mumbles in his sleep, hugging you even tighter against his growing erection. you hum and turn around in his arms, placing a delicate hand along his jaw. "rafey," you whisper.

he hums as his eyes flutter open a bit, taking in your appearance. he lets out a deep breath from his chest, closing his eyes again to rest into your shoulder. "mornin' princess," he mumbles, peppering a couple of soft kisses into your neck. you hum back a good morning as he detaches him from you and lays on his back, to which you follow by resting on you elbow and using your available hand to play with his messy bed hair.

"how'd you sleep?" you ask softly, his hand coming to your waist to pull you closer.

he hums tiredly. "great." your leg is thrown across his torso and a smile overtakes your features. you lean down and press some sweet, long kisses against his chest. "m'glad," you respond.

you hands trails downs his body, your nails (which he paid for) lightly scratching his abs, to which he lets out a pleasured groan. you hands stop at the waistband of his boxers and you look up at him, lashes fluttering, a pleading look in your eyes.

rafe lets out a breathy chuckle. "shit, go ahead, princess."

you bite your lip and crawl to straddle his legs, bringing down his boxers and taking them of his legs. the cold air of the room causes goosebumps to trail up your body and your nipples to harder through your nightie, so rafe pulls up the white duvet to your shoulder, and you let out a greatful hum.

you look up at rafe as you hands delicately wrap around his base and he looks down at you hungrily. you look back down at his dick, biting you lips.

rafe lets out a impatient breath. "y'gonna suck me or just stare at it?" he complains in a slightly annoyed tone, but you just giggle.

"sorry rafey" you whisper, leaning down to place an apologetic kiss on his tip, and his eyes roll back a for a moment, letting out a guttural groan. you lick up from his base to the tip, wrapping you pink lips around it, looking up at him as you do so. "shit, atta girl." he praises, his hand essentailly patting your head as he moves some hair from your face. you on all fours, leaning down in a cow pose as you arch your back up to begin to take more of him. as you slowly suck him, you let out little hums every now and then, break away to tell him how good he tastes and much you love sucking his cock, knowing that rafe likes praise just as much (and maybe even more) than you do.

because at the end of the day, you just want your rafey to be happy. you just want to please him in any way, and thats why he loves you so much - you're his little doll, his princess.

"fuckkkk" he groans. "gonna cum soon. y'gonna take it, yeah? swallow up all my cum?"

you nod, bobbing you head up and down on his cock, breaking away for a moment but continuing to stroke him. "mhm, promise,"

hes lets out a sadistic chuckle. "thats a good girl, princess," he praises as he grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail, taking control as he shoves you down his cock, your eyes widening in surprise and water as you gag and choke around him, to which he lets out a chuckle at your frazzled state. "there you go, thats it. you can take it." he eases in a casual tone, as if he didn't just shove his whole cock down your throat.

you moan and gag around him, you hands squeezing his thigh as you look up at him, eye lashes wet with unuttered tears, which somehow gets him closer. he groans and manually moves your head up and down his dick, watching as your pretty tears fall onto his lower stomach. he curses under his breath and groans gutturally as he finally releases, not once removing his eyes from yours. you moan with him, finding him just so hot when he cums.

after a few seconds of him coming down, he lets out a pleased sigh. "good job, princess," he praises lazily, patting you head as he pushes himself up, grabbing you waist to pull you in for a quick kiss. "m'gonna go get you some water, took me all the way, huh?" he chuckles a bit, standing up and placing a kiss on the top of your head before heading down to the kitchen. you collapse on the bed, sighing contently, feeling pleased by the perfect start to your day.

#princess!reader #rafexreader #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafexprincess!reader

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hypnagogics · 8 days ago

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archery coach!ellie whose hands convey more words than her mouth. instead of molding your form with spoken instructions or simply telling you what to do, she takes the liberty to pose you herself, as if you were a prized doll.

"you gotta stand up straighter, and make sure you pull with your back and not with your arm. you're supposed to feel the stretch right here." she jabs in the middle of your shoulder blades with her middle finger, sending a chill down your spine. she's so close, you can't bear to look her in the eye. you briskly nod, and try to feel the thing she was describing.

aim, draw, shoot, and you hit the target. bullseye. "yeah, exactly like that!" she hesitates with her hands outstretched for half a beat, her eyes scanning yours to see if she can ""instruct"" you some more.

her roughened palms graze your ribcage feather-lightly, while she angles you to one side. her breath tickles your earlobe and you think to yourself, when did she get so close, but before you have to process her right hand rises to gingerly run along your jawbone, catching you off guard.

"this is your anchor point, make sure your drawing hand makes contact here, and then pull back—don't forget to breathe—and release." none of this was in actuality even the tiniest bit erotic, but the commanding timbre of her voice sent a fiery blush to the spot she caressed.

when you're struggling with a piece of your equipment, let's say your sling, she's quick to fix it for you, fiddling around with your fingers and slipping the shoelace loop back around your thumb. after making sure youre all set, she retreats to observe you shoot on your own.

you think you're hallucinating when you hear a husky comment, unmistakably in her voice, "thats it, baby. just like i taught you."

ignore me lol bored at practice have this shit thing while i work on real stuff and fistfight my perfectionism demons

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