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fateinthestars · 7 months ago

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Star Crossed Myth Advent Calendar 2024 Fanfic: Day Twelve - Present of Presence (Teorus/MC)

(Fanfic Advent Calendar for 2024 using this prompt list from creativepromptsforwriting)

Title: Day Twelve - Present of Presence

Pairing: Teorus/MC (MC's name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Characters: Huedhaut, Teorus, MC

Word Count: 830

Rating: T

Prompt: Mulled Wine

Summary: Teorus is stuck in the heavens due to an emergency, MC is stuck at home after issues with work. Both really need the presence of the other. Their mutual friend is there to help.

Day Twelve: Present of Presence

Huedhaut watched Teorus working at the pool with a frown as he busied himself with ordering the lists. He could tell that the other was getting rather flustered now. “Teo… you know Leon wouldn’t have asked you to stay longer today if it wasn’t important, right?”

“I knoow that,” Teorus grumbled, “and making sure stuff isn’t too negative on Earth is even more important at times like these… but…”

“You’re worried about her aren’t you?” Huedhaut queried, moving nearer the other. “I am sure she will understand.”

“But she seemed so stressed last week about this event and work and I was hoping that having tonight to look forward to would be something to help her after. Because of this emergency I haven’t even had time to pick out a present…”

Huedhaut thought for a moment. “I may be able to help there, but…” he sighed, looking pointedly at his shift partner. “You were not this stressed out before I had to go and talk to Karno.”

Teorus glanced away, pouting and looking upset. “I may have snuck a look at the planetarium whilst you were away…”

“Yes, because that will really help us get this done quickly enough for you to still go down there this evening.”

“Could you not use that tone today?” Teorus grumbled.

Huedhaut sighed heavily. “Alright. Then will you tell me exactly what is going on?”

“... Look at the bottom ten pages of that pile…” Teorus muttered as he grabbed the next one from Huedhaut and got back to work.

Now a little puzzled, Huedhaut did as the other suggested, his eyes widening at what he saw. “Teo. Come with me.”

“Huh? But -”

Huedhaut looked at him with hard eyes. “I’ll deal with Leon later. We need to get you to Earth.”

“Hue… I…”

“Just follow me before I change my mind.”

Teorus finally managed a more genuine smile as he followed his friend out of the reflecting pool room.

The wishes list had been prioritised to contain stuff that would likely help the emergency more at that top, but certain strong wishes were still managing to filter through…

The entirety of the last ten pages was variations of ____ wishing that Teorus was with her.

***

At her apartment, ____ slumped back on the sofa with a groan. All the work they had put into this event had come undone by the projector breaking in the unusually cold temperatures they’d been having recently. The fact that no one had answered her wishes troubled her more though: that likely meant that there was some incident that the heavens needed to focus on right now. So she doubted she’d even see Teorus tonight.

About to give up and write this day off as one she couldn’t salvage, Teorus suddenly appeared in her apartment.

“Teo!” Rushing over to him, ____ hugged him tightly, frowning as she noticed how frazzled he looked. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” Teorus murmured, putting the package he was carrying down on the table before returning his embrace. “You’ve been down here all day making wishes that I didn’t even notice until I happened to look at the bottom of the lists, and I’m not even supposed to be here now. I’ve no idea how I’m going to repay Hue for all this… I hadn’t even had time to get you a gift.”

____ sighed heavily. “Teo. It’s alright. You just being here is a better present than anything you could have brought right now.”

Teorus finally managed a watery smile. “Sorry. I should have asked: Are you okay?”

“I… I’m just rather frustrated that the planetarium’s screening couldn’t go ahead due to technical issues, but it’s not as though it’s anyone’s fault,” ____ muttered. “I’m sorry I troubled you so much at work.”

Sighing softly, Teorus sat down with her on the sofa, taking her hands in his own. “____ . The king probably still added all of those to the list because it was you. And if they’d not been there I’m not sure Hue would have agreed to help. Though I didn’t like how helpless I felt glancing into the pool and seeing you leaving the planetarium so downcast… if he’d been longer with Karno I probably would have snuck away right then, but then I would have had to go back straight away.”

“You mean you don’t now?”

Teorus finally managed a more genuine smile. “No. Technically I’m here to grant your wish, but Hue seemed pretty sure he had a way to make sure we wouldn’t be disturbed.” He reached for the bag he had put down on the table and pulled out a bottle of mulled wine, his eyes glinting a little as he relaxed into a smirk. “So what do you say we forget about everything else for tonight, and see in Christmas in a happier mood?”

“... Thanks, Teo,” ____ murmured, smiling softly.

“Anytime, goldie. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#star crossed myth #scm #scm fanfic #star crossed myth fanfic #scm teorus #star crossed myth christmas #star crossed myth advent calendar fic 2024 #teorus x mc

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works.

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well?

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn.

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?”

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?”

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.”

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.”

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him.

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.”

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain.

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?”

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--”

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me.

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.”

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--”

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--”

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--”

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.”

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.”

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.”

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.”

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance.

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy.

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?”

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.”

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.”

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.”

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me.

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.”

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip.

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--”

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.”

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness.

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine.

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.”

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?”

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.”

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.”

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.”

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.”

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered.

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning.

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear.

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips.

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw.

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me.

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his.

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever.

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.”

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.”

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?”

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.”

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.”

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly.

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own.

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.”

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together.

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.”

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it.

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.”

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amerrierworld · 4 years ago

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Little Songbird (pt 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu becomes addicted to your voice and wants to hear you... sing some more.

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,087

Warnings: The extra Smut Chapter ;)

The next day, you were a bit exhausted from the previous night’s... activities. But you set about work the same way as usual, though buzzing with an unusual excitement about the evening to come.

You were working on repairing a rip in one of your old dresses. You really wanted to impress the Lady and look as good as possible, now that she had taken a liking to you. As you worked, the head maid asked you about your previous night’s duties while preparing lunch.

“It wasn’t all bad.” You kept your gaze on the hole in the dress you were mending as she prepped ingredients. “The Lady seemed very preoccupied. I don’t think I was much of a bother.”

“That’s very rare,” another maid cackled while peeling potatoes next to you. “She always looks at us like we’re the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. But I suppose the pay is good.”

“Not freezing out in the cold is very good pay, I agree,” the head house maid said dryly. “I suggest you try to keep it that way.”

The maid looked flustered at the comment and scampered off, intimidated by her gaze and muttering something about more things to be done. You bit your lip to stop from smiling.

“How was it really, my dear?” The head maid turned to you, a much kinder look in her eyes now. “The Lady can be a touch.. harsh.”

“It was fine, really. I didn’t know she had a piano until now.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never heard her play myself, but I’ve heard stories she used to perform. Especially around holidays or important events.”

“Really?” Your mouth gaped a little as she explained. “I didn’t know she was that good at piano.”

“Oh, no, dear. Not piano. She would sing. It’s a bit sad we haven’t heard her sing at all in our time at the castle. I suspect it would make her a little more approachable. But that may not be what she wants. I’ve heard she was quite a talented singer though...”

As she kept talking, the needle had stilled in your hands, your body freezing at the sudden revelation. Lady Dimitrescu, a singer? Surely not.

“..Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, thinking of how she would sound, what she would sing, and if you would ever get to hear her sing.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You kept pushing the needle through the fabric, trying to remain calm. You felt your body tingle as you remembered the way she wanted to hear you sing. “I have to say, it is quite surprising.”

“Our Lady is definitely full of surprises.” She patted your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts and your half-stitched handiwork. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to focus on any tasks for the rest of the day now.

Later that night, you hurried to sneak through the hallways on your way to your Lady’s bedchambers. You really didn’t want anyone to see you on the way, since you had no supplies to have an excuse of a chore to be done this time. There was one maid who caught your eye, and she gave you a curious once-over as you walked by in your nicest dress, looking like you were going out rather than going to bed.

When you got to the door of the room, your heart was thundering in your chest. Your hands had gotten sweaty, and you didn’t understand what was so stressing for you. She had seen every inch of you already, had stripped you on top of the piano, and made you come like you never had before.

You delicately rapped your knuckles on the door, and waited for long, agonizing moments for a response. When none came, you became curious. You turned the door handle and pushed. It opened with no resistance, and there seemed to be no noise coming from inside the room.

You poked your head inside, and was once again astounded by the sheer size of the room. Against your better judgment, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Being early was always a good thing, you decided.

Since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t there yet, you had time to take it in. You were drawn to the massive bed, and the dark red sheets that adorned it. Probably the best colour choice, you figured, considering the high risks of blood stains on any surface in the entire castle.

You approached and ran a hand over the edge of the fabric, marvelling at its silkiness and expensive textures. It reminded you of everything Lady Dimitrescu liked to wear; expensive, silky, smooth...

The door slammed open, ripping the quiet thought out of your brain, and there stood Lady Dimitrescu. Her expression was fuming, angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you, because the minute she saw you standing in the room, it softened in confusion. Like she had forgotten you’d be coming.

You let go of the sheets and clasped your hands behind your back, curtsying quickly in fear of her anger and not wanting to step out of line. She nearly scoffed at you, and took a few long strides to the vanity, sitting down heavily on the bench.

“Help me with my dress.” Her tone was curt, demanding. You paled a little, thinking this night wasn’t gonna go how you expected it to, but still doing as she said. You were a maid, after all.

With her seated, it was easier to reach the buttons along her back, and you made quick work of them. But when you stepped back and she didn’t make any move to get out of her seat, you realized she wanted you to get the entire garment off her.

Her pointed gaze at you in the mirror disappeared from view as you approached the open back and pushed the two halves of the dress aside like peeling delicate fruit. You couldn’t help it; you ran your hands along the thick skin of her back as the dress fell off her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing bra clasp right at eye level that you could have undone quickly if you wanted to.

“You’re being quite bold, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu finally spoke, her voice deep, sultry, but not gentle like it had been last night. There was an iciness to it that stung. Your hands had been lingering a little too long on her skin.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you said, stepping away as she got up to her full height and let the dress pool at her feet. You saw heels in your view and stockings raking up long legs, but you didn’t dare look any higher.

“Oh, pet. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She ran a hand over your head and walked past you. Your instincts kicked in and you picked up the dress to fold tidily on the vanity’s bench. The slightest touch from her fingers made you shiver, and a blush crept up the back of your neck.

“Look at me, sweetling.”

You turned around to face the bed, where she was sitting, one leg swung over the other, hands perched behind her on the mattress. Yellow eyes looked at you and you gulped for air at the sight of her.

“You’re allowed to look, darling. It would be a bit inconvenient if you weren’t.”

Your cheeks were burning now, but you finally let your eyes wander down her frame. Her lingerie was the epitome of femininity, yet dark and sultry, just like her. The black lace hugged her curves. Her stockings were held up by a garter belt, and she kicked off her heels with one smooth jerk of her legs.

Her tummy folded in when she was seated, and her thighs, though muscular and lean, were thick and looked strong enough to crush your entire body if she wanted to.

“Come here.” That familiar voice zapped through you and you approached the bed, briefly wondering if what you had heard about her singing talents were true. You supposed it wouldn’t surprise you. As a lady of her standard, learning an instrument or musical skill must’ve been a required lesson for her etiquette.

She picked you up to sit in her lap, and you squeaked in surprise as she lifted you once again. A chuckle rang throughout the room and you looked up at her, relieved to see the earlier anger had dissipated from her gaze when she looked at you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I had almost forgotten you were coming,” she said, running hands soothingly over your thighs as you straddled her. “I apologize if I was a bit of a sight when I arrived. The staff in this castle is somewhat... incompetent at times.”

So it was the staff that had made her angry. Did another maid try to escape? Enter the cellar? Was there an errand boy that couldn’t keep his hands off of one of the new deliveries?

Her head lowered to breathe in your scent, lingering right by your ear. You let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of her so close to her, and you reached out to grip her upper arms that framed your body. You ran your fingers along her skin, and she recoiled for a moment, pulling away.

You froze. Did you do something wrong? Fear etched in your eyes, you looked up at the Countess, wondering if you stepped out of line for touching her. Then her gaze focused in on you and she seemed to relax a little.

“Don’t stop.”

Was it a request? An order? You didn’t mind either way, because now your hungry hands ran over her, feeling the dimples and ridges of scars and stretched skin all over. You explored with your hands as much as you did with your eyes, gazing at her cleavage, the curve of her neck, the muscles in her shoulders.

You ran a hand over her tummy, feeling softness and subconsciously prodding it a little with your fingertip. She giggled at the feeling. Giggled. Her body jostled a bit, moving you about. You liked the feeling and the softness, so kept your hands there.

“I can see a question in your eyes, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, combing a hand through your hair. You cast your gaze downward, running a hand over her skin repeatedly, familiarizing yourself with the patterns of the stretch marks.

“Just.. something I heard today.”

“And what was that?”

You squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if you want to hear.”

A finger tipped your chin up to her piercing eyes, “I doubt it’ll go unnoticed by me, sweetling. Even if you don’t tell me now, I will hear about it.”

Your mouth went a little dry at that. She was right, nothing happened in this castle without her knowing about it, but goodness... the power behind those words made you weak in the knees. Thank heavens you were sitting.

“I was told you used to be a singer.”

An amused look crossed her face. “Is that it? I was expecting you to announce a mutiny at hand.”

You shrugged slightly, delighted in the way her hand reached to cup the back of your neck, a thumb running over your throat. “I was hardly a singer, darling. But yes, I used to.. dabble in performance. Long ago.”

“Is that why you were so interested in my singing?”

She grinned, teeth gleaming. “I was interested in your singing because I was interested in you, little songbird.”

She tugged you impossibly closer, leaning down and running her wicked tongue over where her hand had just been on your neck.

“W-will I ever get to hear you?” you managed to huff out, because now her firm hands were holding your middle, exploring your body the way you had been exploring hers.

“Is that what you want? To hear me sing?”

You nodded, because the low timbre of her voice was reverberating throughout your whole body, and you suddenly needed to hear it singing a tune.

“Perhaps... if you indulge me like I had indulged your last night, you may get to hear me sing too.”

You felt the tips of your ears nearly burst into flames, but you were so desperate... so eager to please. You nearly dropped down to the floor to get on your knees.

She chuckled, “not so fast. I have a better idea.”

Lady Dimitrescu shuffled back on the bed until she was up against the pillows. Shoving a pillow under her lower back, she crooked a finger to beckon you closer, spreading her legs. The sight of her, half in candle light, spread out for you this time, but still in charge, made you swoon.

You crawled towards her and pressed your lips against the inside of her knee. She rocked her hips a little at the feeling of your warm, small mouth on her body, and fisted a hand in your hair.

“I really won’t need any foreplay, dear,” she said in a hushed tone. “Give me your mouth.”

You raced to tug the black lace panties off of her long legs, and were met with the sight of slick, swollen flesh. A carnal desire overtook you, and you surged forwards to press your mouth against her, desperate to taste.

A soft ‘oh’ escaped the giantess at your eagerness and your soft tongue tasting her arousal without hesitation. She enjoyed teasing you, yes, making you beg and dance around the sexual gratification she could give you. But this, your hunger and desire to please, made her warm all over.

“Good girl,” she said softly as your tongue began flicking over her swollen clit, lightly and experimentally. Your hands gripped the inside of her thighs, keeping them steady and spread. She was able to look down at you, and realized her rough gripping had made your hair come undone, causing curls and locks to drop down, loose and wild. Your eyes met hers, pupils dilated, and then you sucked.

The high-pitched cry that escaped her was broken and sudden, and it made your body flood with arousal. Your legs trembled a little, the space between your legs begging for attention.

“Oh, who would have thought you’d be so good with your tongue, sweetling?” Lady Dimitrescu moaned, “I knew you were talented.. but that mouth...”

Her sentence was left unfinished, and she bit her lip, groaning softly in the back of her throat as you kept going. Your fingers rubbed her folds, teased her entrance, kissing and sucking until you could find a rhythm that made her squeak.

A nip at the hood of her clit made her gasp delightfully, so you did it again. The hand in your hair pressed down to bury your face in her cunt.

“Wicked girl,” she growled, and you moaned against her, your face wet. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

You pressed harder, one hand pushing three fingers at her entrance without any resistance as they slid inside. Your brain wasn’t working enough to keep up the pace of both, so you curled them and pressed against that soft, swollen frontal wall, scratching with the pads of your fingertips.

She nearly howled, a string of soft curses and... were those pleads? Her eyes were screwed shut, and you looked up at her strong, soft body. You couldn’t help but reach down and rub yourself through the fabrics of your clothes with your other hand.

Eventually she noticed when she opened her eyes again, and she chuckled, making a point of slowly rolling her pelvis into your face.

“Couldn’t keep your own hands off of yourself?” she said, her voice slurred with arousal. You made a whiny sound, restrained by your tongue and mouth against her cunt.

“I want you to come with me,” she gasped, her thick thighs beginning to shake from approaching her orgasm. You rubbed yourself even harder, eager to do as she said.

Her usually-reserved voice came out in whimpers and low growls, and you sucked hard at her clit again, pressing your fingers deep inside, and her whole body instantly convulsed.

Her cries of pleasure and incoherent words of praise made you topple over the edge shortly after. Her well-kept hair was undone, her mascara a little smeared, and her hands were digging painfully into your scalp. She let go once the last tremors left her body, and you relaxed against her thigh, breathing in her smell and kissing her everywhere you could reach.

“Well done, little songbird,” she cooed, eventually managing to open her eyes again and look at you. “You really are too precious for words.”

You blushed. You extracted your hand from between your legs, grimacing a little at the stickiness of your clothes.

“Let’s get you out of those,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered softly. You let her hands lift you up like you weighed nothing, and strip you.

“But- work...” you made a feeble attempt to get up, but she tutted, holding you closely to her chest, your head resting on her breasts.

“Nonsense. You will stay the night here. You’re in no state to return to your duties yet.” She spoke curtly again, meaning there was no room for argument, but the soft throb between your legs and the haziness of your sated mind already left you limp and jelly-like. You wouldn’t have made it out the door without collapsing even if you did try to leave.

And so, you were bundled up in her arms, the blankets pulled up around your trembling form. She had pulled out a book from her nightstand and let you relax against her body as she flicked through the pages, a quiet peace filling the atmosphere around you. And then you heard it.

With your head pressed against her chest, you heard the rumble of her voice under your ear, and then her soft humming filled the room. You held your breath as you listened to the low, baritone-like notes, and the occasional page flipping of her book.

You didn’t know the song, didn't know if it came with words, or if she had come up with it right now, but it made your heart flutter. Did she know you were still awake?

Eventually, a hand came off of the book and pressed on your head, helping you settle against her warmed skin a little more, and then she spoke,

“Sleep, little songbird. There’ll be plenty of times for you to hear me later.”

A/N: It really doesn’t take much to convince me to write more of a series when I love them as much as this one ;) I hope you have ~enjoyed~

#alcina #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x you #fem!reader #merry writes #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8 #re 8 #resident evil fanfic #dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #tall vampire lady #wlw

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360iris · 4 years ago

Text

Cry Baby (Sirius Black x Reader x Remus Lupin SMUT)

Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg relationship. Subspace mention. Vaginal and anal penetration.

Word count: 1,136

Summary: The boys haven’t been letting you finish but you finally get what you asked for.

A/N: Worked like a snail on this piece, blame my new obsession with Megan Thee Stallion.

Remus holds your arms tight behind your back while Sirius has a vice grip on your throat. You stick out your chin indignantly as you meet his gaze. He chuckles darkly and you huff irritatedly at the sardonic smile on his lips

“Put up as much of a fight as you want, Y/N. You think that’ll deter me? I’ll have you crying for me to fuck you soon enough.” All hints of amusement have left his face and all that remains is a dark glint. Onyx hair framing his cheeks perfectly and you try to rally your spirits, but he’s damn scary.

Your attitude slowly ebbing away every second you’re stuck under his cold gaze. However this couldn’t all be for nothing. He and Remus had been intentionally denying you from finishing for an entire week. Regardless of the act they were putting on, you knew they wanted to see how far they could push you.

They’d brought you to the edge on multiple occasions and each time you’d thought it’d be the exception. And each time, it wasn’t. You had a right to be furious. You had a right to raise hell.

Feeling that fire return, you clock the look of recognition that flashes across Sirius’ face at the change in your demeanor. If they weren’t going to make this easy, neither would you.

“You know what makes me the most pissed? The fact that no matter how well you put on the act of being so inconvenienced by my oh-so-sudden defiance, you wanted me to get like this.” You glare up at him and he only raises a brow in response so you continue.

“Just admit it, Si. You don’t want a good girl who lets you fuck her however. If you did, I think you’d treat me better.” You roll your eyes and both boy’s grips on you tighten.

“You want to be treated better, doll?” Remus quips, his lips warm against your ear.

Keeping a hold of your wrists with one hand, he slips the other under your skirt. Quickly discovering your lack of underwear, he pinches your butt sharply. Slowly tutting but obviously amused.

“Walked around campus all day, just waiting for the next strong wind so that someone, anyone, could finally pay attention to your dumb little cunt? Isn’t that right, baby?” His voice is barely above a whisper, brushing a calloused thumb over your clit.

And though your hips give an uncontrollable jerk in response, you smirk. Pressing back against his chest.

“Well someone was going to fuck me today, I was making sure of it.” You reply to Remus, but your eyes are trained on the boy in front of you.

“You’re a slut.” Sirius sneers but you preen under his scrutiny.

“And you love it, Si.” You retort smugly.

“You’re really pushing our patience, but you’ll get what you want, Y/N. Hope you’ll be able to take it because otherwise I don’t think you’ll be having as much fun as you thought.” Remus whispers into your hair.

Before long you’re leaning against Sirius, his tip pushing into your ass. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep down a whimper. The stretch was beyond pleasurable, but the moment Remus plunges into your heat, euphoric moans fill the room.

“That didn’t last long.” Remus taunts with a firm thrust. His eyes scan your features as he begins massaging your bud in quick circles.

“Remus!” You whine but Sirius bites hard into your neck in response. Your body is thrumming with pleasure, all the stimulation rabidly overwhelming your senses.

“Try again.” He reprimands with a buck of his hips.

You hated that you couldn’t stay silent. You wanted to make them work for it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You babble back and the boys, as though in sync, fuck harder into you. The pressure on your clit increases and you feel your climax beginning to build.

“What are you supposed to call me?” Remus’ hips are unwavering, even as your arousal drips down his length and thighs.

When you fail to answer, he pinches your bud between his thumb and knuckle, a wail falls from your lips.

“Daddy!”

And even as your brain muddles, you register how good it feels to address him properly. A different form of pleasure washes over you after brandishing him with the title.

The tears you were fighting to keep under check finally streaking across your cheeks and Remus watches as you’re suddenly grasping to wrap your arms around his neck.

“There’s my baby.” He coos, clocking your switch.

“Little slut was holding on the best she could.” Sirius laughs, adjusting his grip on your thighs. Bringing your knees up further to your chest, their cocks slipping further into you.

Remus chides him but you don't miss the smirk blooming on his face. “My babygirl loves having both her holes fucked at once? Felt so good you couldn’t help but slip into subspace, huh doll?”

“Mhm! Feels too good, Daddy!” You mumble, slipping your middle and ring finger into your mouth in-between moans.

“Look at you all fucked out. Don’t have a single thought in that head of yours anymore, do you? Sucking on your little fingers trying to keep your mouth busy? Sweet girl.” Remus presses a kiss to your temple as you gargle out whimpers, the tenderness of his lips drastically contrasting the force of the boys jackhammering into you.

You feel light headed as a warmth spreads from your heat to your tummy.

“I’m gonna- oh! Daddy!”

Sirius snorts at your desperate cries, tilting his head to nip at your neck.

“Gonna come on my cock, baby? Make me all nice and wet? Can you do that for me?” Remus asks, rubbing your clit ferociously even as you buck wildly from the sensation.

A short squeak is all that escapes your lips as Sirius brings a hand up to your throat.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, the intensity of your orgasm almost ejecting your spirit from your body. Your vision turns white and you’re unable to process anything past the high pitched ringing in your ears.

The boys watch as your muscles immediately tense.

Remus laughs as his lower half is showered in your arousal. Sticky droplets cascading down his legs and pooling on the sheets.

“Did she- fuck!” Sirius starts but cuts off his question with a pleased groan.

“She’s so wet. If you could feel it, Si. Has me slipping in and out so easily but still so tight!”

As your consciousness resurfaces, you’re brought back by their continued thrusts.

“Nu-uh! Don’t try to run from our cocks, slut.” Sirius growls, grip tightening to keep your squirming to a minimum.

“You wanted this, remember? Now shut up and take it.”

#marauders x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #the marauders #marauders smut #poly marauders #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter blurb #hp #hp blurb #hp imagine

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uncpanda · 4 years ago

Text

The Ties that Bind: Magician

Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

Master List

“I’m going to be a magician!” The sentence is said with a little bit of a lisp, and you try really hard to not smile, because you know Spencer is self conscious about. It’s been a constant since he managed to lose both front baby teeth at the same time.

You focus on the actual occupation he’s just mentioned, “A magician?”

“I saw one on TV! And when I went to the library Ms. Jacobs helped me find books on it. It’s not really magic of course, more tricks but there are a bunch that use science! Those ones should be easy, and the others I can practice at until I get them.”

You hesitate to ask the next part, because this is the most excited Spencer has been since William left. “What do you need to be a magician?”

“We have most of the stuff around the house. Eventually, I’d like to get a magic kit though. Do you think I could get one for Christmas?”

You’d do your best. If you rationed things out, made sure to not use too much electricity or water, you’d probably be able to save enough in time for a really great magic kit for Christmas. But you were only living on your mother’s salary now, and that meant money was tight. Maybe you could babysit for some of the kids around the neighborhood?

You spend that summer doing nothing but physics magic. It’s relatively cheap, and you’re able to do it outdoors which means not as much water and electricity are used with your mother gone at the University. She’s started staying in her office for days at a time. Sometimes you wonder if she remembers that you and Spencer are at home. At night you open the windows, and you trick Spencer into thinking that cold baths are just like going to pool. He seems to enjoy them, and they are a nice contrast to the Nevada heat.

When it gets too hot, the two of you head to the library. Spencer is more than thrilled to detail his magic tricks to Ms. Jacobs who allows him to stamp the books as received when they come back to the library. You tend to curl up in one of the reading chairs and sleep. With your mother gone at night, and not living in the safest neighborhood, you don’t feel good about sleeping at night. And Ms. Jacobs, bless her, is more than happy to let you sleep.

You manage to save enough for the magic kit, with a little left over for a stuffed animal. And then a week before Christmas the heating unit goes out. You have to pay to have it fixed and it actually costs more than what you saved specifically for the present, and you have to empty out the emergency fund you’d been building up as well. You still fall a hundred dollars short but the man is nice enough to take what you have. You hate the pity, but it’s better than freezing to death. You absolutely end up dreading Christmas and the look of disappointment you know is going to be on Spencer’s face.

You relate the information to Ms. Jacobs who listens intensively before shaking her head. “You’re too young to be worrying about these things. I should have a talk with your mother.”

“It won’t do any good. She won’t hear you. She never hears anyone.”

Ms. Jacobs’ lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything else. Two days before Christmas you swing by the library to drop off Spencer’s latest reads and find Ms. Jacobs waiting for you with two wrapped presents.

“The bottom one is for Spencer. It was that deluxe magic kit you were looking at. Make sure to tell him it’s from Santa. The top one is for you. It isn’t much, but you should have a little something to open on Christmas.”

You stare at the presents a little hesitant, “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

She waves it away, “I talked with my husband and he insisted. The two of you are good kids. You deserve these presents.”

You swipe at the few tears that manage to escape and Mrs. Jacobs pulls you into a hug. And for the first time since William left you allow the exhaustion and pain to hit you, and you cry. And Poor Mrs. Jacobs holds you through it all. And when you’re done she instructs you to clean your face, and you head out.

You’re just able to sneak the presents into the house before Spencer gets back from playing chess in the park. One of the neighborhood moms had volunteered to take him with her. You hid the presents in your closet. And you go to check on the Christmas tree. It’s a tiny little one that sits on a shelf. It reminds you of the one from the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. You’d found it at a thrift store. It’s the only Christmas decoration the two of you have, and your mom is once again spending time at the university.

When it’s Christmas morning you wake up early and slip Spencer’s present under the tree, and then you slip back into bed. You pretend to sleep so that a surprised Spencer can come in and wake you up. He does. He’s talking a mile a minute about the big box under the tree for him. You make a big deal of running out there with him, along with the camera William had left behind when he’d left. The entire roll of film consisted of Spencer in his Aardvark costume at Halloween, and all of his physics magic tricks. Now the perfect Christmas gift will be the last ones on the roll. .

You watch him rip into the paper and the amount of joy he has on his face when he see the deluxe magic kit is amazing. You snap the picture. You sit and watch him open the box reverently, inventory everything, and then start on the booklet of tricks. You spend the rest of the day practicing tricks.

To your surprise Diana comes home in the early afternoon, and she seems fairly coherent. You’re wary though. You watch as Spencer takes her through the magic kit. She’s genuinely excited for him, and you slip back to your room to open your present. You smile when you open it. It’s a scrapbook, along with all the trimmings and extra film for your camera. It’s an incredibly thoughtful gift. You hide it under your bed, and vow to work on it on the nights you need to stand watch.

Overall, it’s the best Christmas you could hope for.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid x sister!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm reader insert #cm imagine #cm fanfiction

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sweetyyhippyy · 4 years ago

Text

Late Arrival. Spencer Reid x Reader.

(Not my gif)

Summary: Spencer is coming back home after an out of state case runs long. You fall asleep waiting for him, and when he finally does come home, he sees your outfit and there is no way he can’t wake you up for a proper homecoming.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

TW: Brief mentions of masturbation (male and female), sleepy sex?? (I don’t know how to refer to it), calling Spencer daddy (duh), fingering, reader trying to be dom and Spencer teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of praise kink.

Word Count: 3.2k

A.N: I saw @fics4arainyday put that she wanted someone to write this concept, so i did! I hope you like it! Also, I’m bad at ending fics so 😬... sorry!

link for lingerie I refer to: x

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It had been 3 agonizingly slow weeks since your fiancé had been home.

Being engaged to an FBI profiler wasn’t always easy. The days, even weeks being apart, Spencer coming home at all hours of the night too exhausted to stay awake and spend time with you, missing birthdays, holidays, anniversaries being states away on those occasions.

But in all honesty, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nobody else could make you laugh the way Spencer did. Nobody else could make you think the way Spencer did. Nobody could lovingly annoy the crap out of you the way Spencer did. And most importantly, nobody could fuck you the way Spencer did.

He has been gone for 3 weeks, but the week before he left, there wasn’t a lot of sexy time going on since you were busy with your own job. It was the occasional quickie before having to rush getting ready for work in the morning, a quick mutual masturbation session on a lazy weekend, but no real “wake the neighbors” fuck that you were so desperately craving. Keeping a healthy sex life was important to both of you.

So when you got the call from Spencer that the case was finally over and he would be coming home that same night, you knew it was go time.

You didn’t have much self control when it came to online shopping when Spencer was gone, what else were you supposed to do? The goldfish you two had as a pet wasn’t much company.

So you had treated yourself to a few new pairs of lingerie. Spencer was going to love all of them, but there was one in particular that you knew he was going to lose his mind over. It was baby blue see through with a floral pattern throughout the slip. It left very little to the imagination but that was your favorite part about it. Technically you were supposed to wear some sort of underwear but the slip looked better without it.

You took a hot deep shower and pampered yourself a few hours before you knew he was going to be home, that way you were nice and relaxed and ready for his arrival. You kept your hair simple since Spencer would be pulling at it all night. But you did put some makeup on just to enhance Spencer’s favorite part of your face, your eyes.

The mood of the room was set; the bed was perfectly made, the candle you had given Spencer for a “just because present” called “Bookstore” smelling like mahogany, leather, and coffee; lit on the bedside table. It was meant for him but you enjoyed it much more than him. All that was missing was Spencer.

You looked at the time on your phone, only 10 more minutes before Spencer was due home. You lay on your side of the bed, flipping through tv channels to find something to watch to occupy your time.

***

Spencer turns the key to turn the car off, he drops his hands from the steering wheel into his lap, letting out a deep sigh. He could have been home over 3 hours ago but the jet back home was having engine issues, so the team had to fly through a regular airport… which meant waiting for a flight.

The case wasn’t particularly a rough one emotionally, it was just long. Spencer missed you like crazy within the first few days of being away. Late night phone calls weren’t the same as physically being with you.

Spencer grabbed his satchel, leaving the rest of his baggage to lug up to the house until tomorrow when he had enough rest. As he’s walking up the driveway he can see the light on from the kitchen, signaling you were awake and waiting on him. He knew how much you hated waiting, so by now he knew you were seething with rage. There was about to be a lot of apologizing he was going to have to do. Spencer unlocks the front door, dropping his bag next to the front door and kicking his shoes off right next to it.

“Babe?” Spencer calls out, removing his jacket and hanging it up on the back of the couch. He listens for an answer, but all he hears is the slight murmur of the tv from your bedroom.

Spencer begins to unbutton his shirt as he walks down the hallway to the blue hue of the tv shadowing onto the floor. He steps into the room, spotting you curled up on top of the comforter fast asleep. Before he could appreciate how adorable you looked, softly snoring, he noticed the little outfit you were wearing. You laid there on your belly, one leg straight while the other bent up on the pillow next to you.

He scans your body through the see through fabric, spotting the lack of underwear on your lower half while your butt was fully exposed to him. You were practically a step away from being naked. He quietly walks over to the bed and touches the hem of the slip and carefully hikes it up your butt, not earning a reaction from you.

Spencer quickly sheds his shirt off and throwing it off to the corner of the room along with his dark slacks, kicking them off quickly. Spencer carefully climbs into the bed behind you, laying on his side and palming himself through his boxers to get himself hard, which really didn’t take much as his eyes rake over your body and his imagination runs wild about all the things he was about to do to you. He hisses as he strokes himself harshly, his cock growing harder every second.

Your body shifts next to him, a low grumble coming from your mouth as you shift in bed onto your side, your ass now completely facing him.

Spencer’s eyes widen seeing you move, he didn’t want to get caught stroking himself less than a few inches from where he wanted to be. He finally scoots closer to your body, resting his hands on your bare hip, your skin a little cold from the lack of bed sheet or clothing on you. He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly slipping in between your folds, not yet sliding in. He rubs the tip of his cock up and down you, finding you were already a bit wet.

Your whole body jumps a loud gasp filling the room which makes Spencer pull himself back. Your head turns quickly behind you to look at Spencer, a little glimmer of fear in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You whisper yell at him.

“I’m home. And I see you left a present for me.” He says, whispering in your ear. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hand moving down your thigh and lifting it slightly for easier access.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty annoyed you were so late. I’m kind of not in the mood anymore.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm as you cocked your eyebrow at Spencer.

He licks his lips, a smirk on his face appearing as he picks up on the little game you’re playing with him. “No? Well I think I have some apologizing to do.” Spencer says, moving the strap of your outfit out of his way, kissing up your shoulder and over to your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his soft lips pecking at your skin, a low hum coming from deep within your chest.

“You know I missed my girl so much while I was gone.” He says, his hand traveling up the underside of your outfit all the way up your stomach and up to your breasts, kneading one in his large hands as he spoke in your ear. “I missed waking up to you.” Kiss. “Seeing your beautiful face.” Kiss. “Hearing those sexy moans about how good daddy makes you feel when I’m touching you.” Kiss. “And how wet you get without me even trying.” Kiss.

You were putty in his hands, the game of trying to be tough was no longer working, and Spencer was fully aware of it.

His hand leaves your breast and goes back down to between your legs, his fingers running over your inner thighs, intentionally skipping over your core.

You whine as his fingers tickle you, scooting your body back against him. “Spence.” You pathetically whine, taking his hand and leading it to your throbbing middle. You keep your hand on top of his as you feel him play with your slit, feeling all the wetness that was seeping out of you.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks, kissing the spot below your ear.

“Please, baby?” You beg, turning your torso enough to look at him, pouting your bottom lip out ever so slightly.

His fingers part your lips, finding your bud immediately and slowly drawing lazy circles around it. Your body reacts immediately, relaxing against his body as he massages you. Your hand moves back to tangle in his hair, pushing his head closer to yours, your lips meeting for the first time in 3 weeks. His fingers continue to work their magic, as you two heavily make out with one another; his tongue slipping into your mouth and yours into his.

Your body quivers as Spencer drops his fingers down to the pool of wetness between your legs, two of his fingers slipping inside.

You pull back from the kiss, gasping loudly. “Fuck.” Your eyes flicker to his face, your mouth agape.

“It amazes me how tight you are. I’ve been with you for almost 6 years and it’s always so amazing.”

You moan in response, not being able to form words at the moment.

The room is filled with the sounds of the wetness Spencer is drawing out of you and your breathy moans. Your high was coming quicker than anticipated, Spencer could feel it in your body and could see it in your face.

You cling onto his forearm, keeping him in place. Spencer liked to play games like denying you of your orgasms, but you weren’t going to let him this time. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you fought to keep them open but you were far too overstimulated at this point. The knot came undone as you clenched around his fingers, a string of curse words and desperate moans fall from your mouth as you ride your high out.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Spencer coos, still slowly drawing what you have left out as you try to regain your breath. He kisses your cheek and moves his fingers out of you carefully. “Do you want to taste?” He questions.

You roll over onto your back, nodding your head and grabbing his hand, bringing it up to your lips, and letting him slip his middle and ring finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking on them harshly.

Spencer looks at you in admiration as you look up at him with innocence in your eyes. “I love that I’m the only person that knows how much of a dirty girl you are.”

You open your mouth to let his fingers free, smiling at him. “And I like that I can be your dirty girl.” You say, wrapping your fingers in his curls and bringing his head down to kiss him. “Come here, I want to give you your welcome home celebration.” You say, moving him off of you.

“Normally I’m all for that, but I need to be in you. I’m not going to last long if you use your mouth.”

You sit up on the bed and get up onto your knees, pulling Spencer up to sit up too. You straddle his lap, cupping his face in your hands, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheek, feeling a bit of stubble in his face. “You look tired, my love.”

Spencer smiles, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest. “Not too tired to finish.”

You laugh, kissing him softly. “No? You can go all night? Multiple times?” You teasingly question.

“We can test that theory tomorrow. But right now, we have 3 weeks worth of tension we need to work out.”

“Can I ride you?” You ask.

“Be my guest. I like the view.” He smirks, laying back down against the mattress, his hands gripping both of your thighs.

You get into position, holding his cock steady while you lower yourself down slowly.

Spencer rolls his head back on the pillow, grunting loudly as he feels your tightness around himself. His hands move up your thighs and under your outfit to your hips, gripping them tightly.

You rest your hands on his chest to keep balance, slowly starting to rock your hips against him. Your eyes stay glued to him, watching how his lips were parted and light moans were falling from him. “Do you like that?”

Spencer nods his head, his eyes focusing on your chest bouncing up and down in rhythm of your movements on him. He was trying to focus on anything else in the world to prevent himself from cumming too early.

“Tsk, tsk… words baby.” You tease, scratching his chest with your nails. “You never don’t know what to say.”

“It’s cute when you try to be the one in control.”

“I know I’m cute. You tell me quite often.” You retort with a wide grin.

Your comment earns a laugh from him, playfully rolling his eyes at you. Spencer begins to buck his hips up quickly, taking you by surprise. His fingers move the straps down your shoulders, helping you move your arms out of the straps as you continue to move on top of him. He moves the top half of your outfit down under your chest, his hands like magnets and begins massaging your breasts.

“Fuck, daddy,” You whimper, holding his forearms as he fucks into you. “That’s so good, you’re so good.”

Spencer sits up, letting you take control again. His thumb finds your clit, starting to rub it slowly, his soft brown eyes watching you melt into his touch.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, small whimpers leaving your mouth. You lean your body forward and nuzzle your head into Spencer’s neck. You start to kiss his pale skin, raking your teeth against it.

“Mmm, fuck.” Spencer moans out, applying more pressure to your clit as he feels a small pinch on his neck. “You going to cum for me again, pretty girl?”

“Not yet.” You whine in his ear.

“I’m going to move you. I want to fuck you.” Spencer says, moving your body off of his, earning a whine from you as his cock leaves you. “Bend over for daddy.” He says, helping you lay flat on the mattress while your butt is in the air, facing him. “Mmm, you’re so pretty, my girl.” He says in a low voice, both of his hands kneading your ass.

You whine pathetically, pressing yourself against him. “Daddy, please.”

Spencer smiles, grabbing his cock and slowly sliding back inside you. “It’s cute when you try to take control, but even cuter when you’re a whiny mess.” His hand grips the back of your outfit to hold onto as he fucks you from behind. This was his absolute favorite way to have you because of how hard he could slam into you, but the reaction you gave was even better.

Your hand finds his wrist and holds onto it as he thrusts into your dripping pussy. He could feel how you were coating his cock every time he drew himself back out of you. “I love your cock.” You mutter out.

“This is your cock, baby. You take it so fucking well.” He grunts out, now struggling to keep from exploding. Anytime you fully submitted to him, he was done for.

You had such a strong personality outside of the bedroom that most people wouldn’t believe you were submissive 9 times out of 10.

“Am I your good girl for taking you so well?” You question, looking behind you to look at Spencer with innocent eyes.

His heart and cock fluttered at both your question and your eyes, you always played the innocent card so well. He grabs all of your hair in his hand and gently pulls it back toward him, making you whimper again. “You’re always a good girl for me, my love.” He responds. “Such. A. Good. Girl.” He thrusts into you harshly with each word.

You start to rub your own clit, bringing your second orgasm to the surface for the second time tonight. “You’re going to make me-fuck-me cum. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, daddy.” You were gasping as you spoke, desperate for your release.

“Cum for me, let go my girl.” Spencer says, taking over for your fingers to help bring you to your height. He rubs you quickly, trying not to lose it before you.

Finally you feel your walls clench around his cock, both of you moaning loudly. You moan Spencer’s name along with multiple curse words as he continues to rutt into your sensitive hole.

Spencer pulls out quickly, rubbing himself as he feels his own climax coming to a head.

“No, come back. Put it back in me, please.” You whine, reaching behind you to find Spencer’s cock and lead it back into you.

“You want me to cum in you? You want it inside you?” Spencer groans, seconds away from losing it.

“Please. Cum in me, Spence.” You beg, meeting his thrusts.

Spencer thrusts one last time before he spills himself inside of you, his grip on your hips squeezing as you slowly stop throwing your hips back against him. “Fuck, you’re so good.” He whispers, his eyes shutting as he feels the tip of his cock tingle.

Both of you stay in place as you try to regain your composure. You can already feel your eyes flutter closed, heavy from being tired. Spencer finally pulls out of you, making you hiss and lay flat on the bed.

“Baby, come on, we gotta go clean you up.”

“No.” You whine, closing your eyes again.

“You need to use the bathroom and clean yourself up. We have this conversation every time you’re too tired to get up. Come here, I’ll help you.”

You poke your bottom lip out into a pout as you reluctantly get out of bed, holding Spencer’s hand as you walk into your bathroom together. He helps clean the mess inside you up with a wet towel before leaving you alone to use the toilet.

Once you’re all settled, you walk back into the bedroom, finding Spencer getting the bed ready for both of you to lay down. You wrap your arms around his waist and hug him from behind tightly. Spencer happily hums, reaching behind himself to touch your arm.

“I love you.” You say, giving him a squeeze.

“And I love you.” He says, pulling you around to give you a kiss on the lips. “Do you want to sleep?”

You nod your head, climbing into bed first and getting comfortable right away as you watch Spencer slide in next to you, laying on his side to face you.

You grin ear to ear, kissing his chin. “Hi baby.”

“Hi pretty girl. You good?” He questions, lightly touching your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod. “I’m perfect.”

Spencer brings you into his chest, his fingers rubbing small circles into your shoulder. “Yeah, you are perfect.”

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid smut fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler fan fiction #matthew gray gubler smut

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luminnara · 4 years ago

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It’s Been A Long, Long Time | ch 4

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Taglist: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely

Amoretta swam in and out of sleep. Whenever she surfaced, she saw bright lights and strange faces, and, assuming that she was in a HYDRA lab, she decided it was better if she just kept on dreaming. After a while, though, she couldn’t manage it anymore, and she finally woke up enough to actually take in her surroundings.

She was in a hospital bed, and...a gown? She couldn’t remember the last time she had been given clothing. When she tried to move, she found that her arms ached, and she had an IV sticking out of her. Okay, so wherever she was, they were trying to take care of her. Maybe. That seemed like a good sign.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a man’s voice said. “How’re you feeling?”

A figure came into view, blurry at first, and as he got closer she was able to get him in focus. Amoretta immediately stiffened, feeling threatened by this stranger, but as the scent of omega wafted in, she relaxed slightly. She couldn’t smell any alphas nearby, and that was good.

Two good signs so far.

“Wh-who are you?” She asked, her voice wobbly and hoarse. Her throat was so sore that talking was painful.

“My name is Dr. Bruce Banner.” The man said, reaching towards a nearby table and grabbing a water bottle off of it. “I’m with the Avengers.”

Amoretta frowned. “The...who?”

He came near her slowly, twisting the cap off the bottle and offering it to her. “You’ve probably got a lot of questions. Mind if I ask a couple, though?”

She gave a little shrug as she raised the bottle to her lips. It felt strange to hold, the water tasting...different from what she was used to.

“Can you tell me your name?”

She thought for a moment, brows knitting together. “Subject 1096.”

It was Bruce’s turn to frown. “Did you ever have a...different name?”

After a moment, she nodded, trying to remember. It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. Had it really been so long since she had gotten to say it?

“We can come back to that one.” Bruce said gently. “Do you know what year it is?”

She thought for a moment. “19...1986.”

The doctor pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling something along the lines of “Christ, not another one…”

She got the feeling that she was off by a few years.

“Well, Ten...is it alright if I call you that?”

She shrugged.

“...alright. Ten, it seems like you were cryogenically frozen for a few decades.”

“...decades?”

He nodded. “Your body seems to have handled it well, though.”

“Did I puke?” She asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Not that I saw.” He chuckled.

Well, that was a little surprising. She had a tendency to vomit after being wrenched out of unnaturally cold naps. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my lab, at Stark Tower.”

“What continent?”

“North America.”

She made a thoughtful noise. “What month is it?”

“June.”

“So Ursa Major is out?”

Bruce paused. “...well, it’s hard to see with all the light pollution in the city, but...yes, I suppose it should be…”

She let out a sigh. “I miss it.”

Her voice was already sounding tired again, and Bruce was quick to take the water bottle back before it slipped from her hand.

“You should get some more rest, Ten.” He suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time to get you caught up when you’re feeling more energetic.”

“Mhm.” her eyes fluttered closed. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“What city am I in?”

“New York.” He said, looking down at her curiously. “Manhattan, more specifically. Why?”

She smiled a little. “I wanna see...Brooklyn…”

As she drifted off to sleep again, Bruce rubbed his face. Well, that certainly was oddly specific of her to say. It was a good sign that she seemed lucid, though.

“Captain Rogers is outside, Dr. Banner.” FRIDAY’s AI voice said.

Bruce met him at the door, making his way out as quietly as possible. Steve looked anxious, standing with his hands on his hips as he waited for news. He hadn’t gotten a chance to find Bucky yet, his friend either working out or sleeping, and all he had managed so far was a quick debriefing and a shower.

“I ran down as soon as FRIDAY called,” he said. “How is she?”

“Sleeping again. Just missed her.” Bruce said wryly. “Walk with me, I’m starving.”

Steve fell into step beside him, heading towards the elevators. “Did she say anything?”

“She did. She seemed a bit out of it...couldn’t remember her name, hasn’t been awake since 1986.” He hit the UP button and stood back. “Seemed very interested in constellations, though. And Brooklyn.”

Steve stared at him. “Brooklyn?”

“Told her she was in New York, and the last thing she said before she fell asleep was something about Brooklyn.” Bruce shrugged. “Really interesting thing was her blood tests, though.”

“Blood tests?” Steve asked, stepping into the elevator and waiting for Bruce to join him before the doors closed again.

“Definitely an omega.” Banner said as they headed up several floors. “Her scent is so muted because they pumped her full of enough suppressants to kill a normal person. Pretty sure that’s why she’s so tired...her body is working overtime trying to process such a high dose. I think it was just pooling in her system while she was in cryo, not really going anywhere, so now her kidneys are doing everything they can to—“

“Banner.” Steve interrupted before he had to listen to an entire scientific explanation.

“Right. Sorry.” The scientist cleared his throat. “There was something else that I found already. She’s, uh…well, at some point, she was given super soldier serum.”

Steve froze. “HYDRA gave the serum...to an omega?”

“It’s confusing to me, too,” Bruce put his hands up in defeat. “Thanks to that, though, it’s hard to determine how old she is, or who she is, without her telling us. All I know is that she’s an unmarked omega super soldier with a hell of a dose of heat suppressants to work through.”

“Any idea when she’ll be up again?” Steve asked as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival.

“Hard to say.” Bruce said, following the alpha out towards the shared kitchen near the common area.

“I need to get to the bottom of this, Banner. FRIDAY, will you find Bucky? I need you to tell him—“

“Tell him what?” A voice asked.

Steve smiled in relief. Bucky was there, sitting on the couch with a plate of Alfredo balanced in his metal hand, looking mildly curious about whatever his friend was talking about.

“Oh, good,” Steve said, approaching him, Banner following behind. “You’re already here.”

“What is it, Stevie?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, as you know, I visited an abandoned HYDRA base today.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I found...something.”

“...something. What kind of something?”

Steve suddenly wasn’t sure how to describe his discovery. “Well, it’s a...not an it, I mean, I found a…”

“Rogers here brought back an omega test subject.” Bruce interrupted. “She’s down in the lab right now sleeping off some nasty meds.”

Bucky’s posture hadn’t changed, despite how awkward and almost nervous Steve had gotten. He leaned back against the cushions, slurping down a few noodles while he regarded his friend with a mild expression.

“Alright, so?” He asked.

“So...I was wondering if you had any idea what HYDRA was doing experimenting on an omega.” Steve said, hands on his hips in a stance that was supposed to say I mean business, so listen to me.

Bucky wasn’t bothered by it. He was the biggest, toughest alpha in the tower, aside from the rare occasions Thor was roughing it down on Midgard with the rest of them. The others could puff up and posture all they wanted at him, but it never had any effect. He was always calm and cool, generally disinterested in their displays. He knew he was stronger, and he didn’t need to prove it, especially not when he didn’t have an omega to fight over.

He shrugged. “I want exactly privy to all their secrets. I know they kept cells full of omegas around for a while.”

“What did they do with them?” Steve asked.

“Whatever they wanted?” Bucky shook his head. “I really don’t know. If they were experimenting on ‘em, that never concerned me.”

“You’ve gotta know something, Buck.” Steve sounded exasperated.

“Why do you care so much?” He asked.

“Because something isn’t adding up.” Steve growled.

“They gave this omega enough heat suppressants to last a lifetime,” Bruce said. “Her system is all kinds of messed up.”

“Makes sense.” Bucky ate another mouthful. “HYDRA wouldn’t want to deal with hormones going crazy or any unplanned pups.”

Steve stared down at his friend. “Did they let you rut?”

“Stevie, at least take me out to dinner before you start asking about my sex life fifty years ago.” Bucky said dryly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“...yeah. They did. Think they couldn’t stop my ruts.” He relented.

“So did they...you know…” Steve trailed off awkwardly.

“Were you ever given omegas to get you through them?” Bruce asked, proving once again how much more capable of having this conversation he was than Steve.

Bucky finally had to glance away from them in embarrassment. “Well…yeah. But I, uh...the Soldier, he would just kind of...well, they didn’t really last long, if you uh. Catch my drift.”

Steve paled.

Bruce gulped.

“...what? Look, I’m better now, I’m way past that. Besides, I never meant to hurt anyone, I wasn’t myself—“

“This omega is a super soldier.” Bruce said quietly.

Bucky’s face dropped, a flicker of something passing over his face. “...what?”

—

“Finally,” Bruce sighed happily, inhaling the smell of leftover pizza.

“Bucky, does the number 1096 mean anything to you?” Steve asked. He was sitting in a chair across from his friend, Bruce sitting at the kitchen island while he ate his dinner.

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t remember any numbers like that. They mostly just called ‘em all omega.”

He was trying to seem cool and collected, but his scent had shifted slightly. Steve could catch just the slightest hint of distress in it, and as he did so, he narrowed his eyes. He may have been separated from Bucky for almost 80 years, but he was still his best friend, and he could tell when he was hiding something.

“Why would they give the serum to an omega?” Steve asked.

“Branching out?” Bucky shook his head. “Why do they do anything? They’re HYDRA. They can do whatever they want.”

“So you don’t remember anything about an omega super soldier?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky sniffed defensively.

“Buck, it’s okay if you do.” Steve growled. “We’re not going to judge you for anything you did. We just want to help her and figure out who she is—“

“Well I don’t know,” Bucky snapped, big fangs bared in a warning.

Steve responded with a low growl.

“There’s a lot I don’t remember, or did you forget how many times they wiped my memory?”

“Seems like you’re hiding something, Buck, and I wanna know what it is.”

“Why do you care? You should just drop it,” Bucky snarled.

Steve regarded him carefully. Oh yeah. He was definitely hiding something.

“Hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted from the kitchen, intent on stopping their fight before it could start. “Relax, fellas. Don’t make me get the big guy out to shut you both up.”

Steve backed down. The threat of having the Hulk going after him was enough. Bucky didn’t seem to share the sentiment, though, his lips still pulled back in a blatant display of aggression. It was the first time in a while that Steve had seen him acting so defensively about something, and it was concerning, to say the least.

“Buck,” he said, voice low with warning. “Are you hiding something?”

Bucky’s nostrils flared angrily and the insinuation that he was keeping secrets, but he managed to reign himself back in, stifling another growl with a loud sigh.

“I dunno, Steve.” He admitted. “There’s...a lot I don’t remember. If I’m bein’ honest with you, I’m not even sure why I’m feelin’ so worked up about this.”

Steve nodded. It was a relief to hear that Bucky wasn’t acting this way entirely on purpose, at least.

“You feel okay?” Steve asked. “Not rutting soon, are you?”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Bucky snorted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “Is the omega, uh...is she okay?”

“Physically, she doesn’t seem to be too worse for wear,” Bruce said from the kitchen. “The only abnormalities I found in our preliminary blood tests were evidence of the suppressants and the serum. Other than being exhausted and needing to adjust to consciousness again after decades of cryo, she’s fine.”

“Good.” Bucky said, a little too quickly. “I mean...that’s good.”

“She should be awake again by tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll be up for a longer chat then.”

“You comfortable talking with her?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky. “It might be good for her to see someone else who used to be connected to HYDRA. Might help her ease into everything.”

Bucky gave a nod, already distracted by thoughts of this omega. Was it possible that the girl he saw in his dreams was real? It was hard for him to know what had actually happened to him and what he had imagined, what with HYDRA wiping his memory whenever they felt like it. Ever since he had gained his mental freedom, though, he had been plagued with nightmares, his sleep always filled with the faces of people he had killed.

As time went on, they were getting better, but they never really stopped. He just...didn’t always have to deal with the worst ones. Sometimes, he even got to have dreams that were...nice. Sometimes, he dreamt of a familiar scent, one he couldn’t really place and that he could never remember when he woke up. Sometimes, he dreamt of an omega, with long, dark hair, and the prettiest eyes he could ever imagine. He always saw her in flashes, a smile here, a sigh there, and with no idea as to who she was or where she came from, he had chalked it up to his mind trying to give him some relief from the nightmares. It had to be wishful thinking, and nothing more.

Unless it wasn’t.

He spent a while chatting with Steve and Bruce before retreating to his apartment. With Tony and Pepper gone for the night, spending it in some fancy hotel so that Stark could give a talk at some expo, and most of the others resting after missions, the tower was quiet. It left Bucky too much time to wander and think, and before he knew it, he was making a detour down to Banner’s lab.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he paused. What was he hoping to accomplish, exactly? He didn’t have the kind of clearance that Bruce did. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in, and even if he could, what would he do? Appearing at her bedside would just freak the poor omega out, and that wasn’t the kind of first impression he liked to leave these days.

He shook his head, pressing the button for his floor and leaning back against the elevator wall. He needed to be patient. Tomorrow, when she woke up, he would be able to see her for himself and decide if his weird dreams had any truth to them.

Not that he was getting his hopes up. He shouldn’t, after all. He would just set himself up for disappointment.

Just before the elevator doors slid shut, though, the tiniest, faintest hint of a scent wafted in, and Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew it. He knew that scent, or at least...he used to know it. Somewhere, in a part of his mind that he tried to forget about, he had memories of a peaceful, starry night sky, a hint of pine, and a touch of cinnamon.

Then, the doors closed, and it was gone again, leaving him confused as the elevator rushed upwards.

#alpha bucky barnes #alpha bucky #omegaverse #abo #it's been a long long time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #winter solider x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x oc

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theepisceswriter · 4 years ago

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Caught/Nearly caught having sex in public w/ AOT characters ( Eren, Reiner, Armin, )

A/N: I’m going through the final stage of grief after reading ch 139 and that stage is horniness so now I’m bestowing that upon all of you. Shoutout to my faithful stoned thot anon for requesting this !

Synopsis: I think the title is pretty self explanatory, but having sex in public with your partner and getting caught, or nearly getting caught, by someone.

TW: typos because once again I don’t proof read, fembodied!reader, public sex obviously, mature things,, breeding kink for Reiner , voyeurism (is that what it’s called? Idk!) for Armin, 18+, MINORS DNI

EREN JAEGER: At the club

Only Eren could convince you to even step foot into a public, let alone a CLUB, restroom. Only he could convince you to sit on the seat of a toilet that he shittily put a protect film over and watched as he knelt on the seemingly clean floor, head disappearing underneath your dress and long locks leaking through the bottom hem of your dress as he worked your underwear off. Don’t get it wrong, you were just as aroused and worked up as he was. The slow whine of his body against yours on the dance floor had you going crazy, mind hazy with lust and everyone else around you disappearing but you, him, and the sensual sensation of your arms roaming each other’s body.

If you were able to you would’ve let him take you right then and there in the middle of the floor in front of all those people. The thought of your knees scraping against the tiled floor with each thrust of Eren’s hips behind you as you clutched the bottom of your dress for support, everyone stopping and staring to watch the show you two were putting on, really made an abundance of wetness cumulate against the top of your thighs closest to your cunt. Because, of course, an ending with his cock stuffing you full was never inevitable whenever the two of you went on date nights.

“I have you trained so good that you don’t even wrest underwear anymore when you go out with me? God, you’re so desperate for me baby it’s almost pathetic.” He would speak from underneath your dress, blowing the warm breath of his mouth against your clit, enjoying the way your hips bucked up against him out of want and he hadn’t even given you his tongue yet. Finally, he indulges you; the warmth of his tongue mixed with the occasional shocks of coldness from the metallic stud in his tongue has you forgetting that you’re in a public area for a moment.

You use your teeth to try and hold in your moans, biting them back just incase anyone else is lingering outside the door of the bathroom or in one of the other stalls. But the loud slurping coming from Eren is enough to let anybody know what’s going on. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Too embarrassed at the thought of someone walking in on you like this; cheeks flushed, dress hiked up around your thighs, and your breasts barely restrained by your dress.

“If you keep biting back your moans I will stop completely and leave you in this bathroom to take care of yourself.” As if his words weren’t enough encouragement to finally get you moaning out his name, the feeling of his long index and middle finger slipping into you definitely made a surprised gasp leave your lips. His name falling from your lips soon after.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Let them know who’s in this stall making you feel this good.”

Too good because even if you wanted to try you couldn’t hold your moans back anymore. That familiar coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers and it only encouraged Eren to move them faster, tongue continuing to lick long stripes up your clit. This bathroom stall was your heaven right now.

“I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so-“

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

And just like that your orgasm was ruined. An innocent girl looking to release the drinks that have been building up in her uterus just had to be the one to walk in on you two. Not to mention the fact that Eren never locked the fucking door of the bathroom. He gets from under your dress immediately, cheeks and chin covered with your juices and his eyes filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, babe. I was too caught up in the moment to lock the door when we first got in here.”

That did nothing to help with your embarrassment.

REINER BRAUN: In a public pool

Did you guys know that having sex in a pool or hot tub increases your chances of getting pregnant? Because Reiner the breeder absolutely knew that and it’s exactly what his mind went to after only a couple minutes of being in the jacuzzi with you. It was supposed to be a relaxing late night date night for the two of you, but now he had other plans.

His mind was already swimming with thoughts of you bouncing on his cock up and down the moment he saw you in your swimsuit, so this random thought popping into his head only added fire to the fuel. He was hungry for you and the way he swooped you into his arms and placed you on his lap, bulge poking out against your ass, let you know exactly what he was thinking.

“Babe, there’s people in the apartments surrounding us!”

“They’re not paying any attention to us. Please, I need to feel you so bad right now. It’ll be quick plus it’s like 10 at night 🥺” There’s no resisting those hazel hues once he pulled out those puppy dog eyes and though you didn’t want to admit it, there was something thrilling about the thought of one of your neighbors glancing out of their windows to look at the night sky; only to see you getting pounded behind by Reiner in the jacuzzi at the public pool.

You didn’t even need to give him any verbal confirmation. You did your talking through your actions, reaching behind you and pulling the fabric of your bikini bottoms to the side. The tip of his cock already pressing at your entrance and entering you with ease with help from the water surrounding the two of you. Everything felt so warm and relaxing, even the bubbles from the hot tub surrounding your clit added a new sensation that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Reiner was on cloud nine his own Damn self, hips snapping up against yours at a pace that had him groaning with each thrust. The thought of his seed filling you in no time, let alone in a public place like this, really getting him going. Water splashing around the two of you from the force of this thrusts.

“Fuck, my load is going to be so big I can feel it already and you’re going to get every last drop of it deep inside of you. Going to make you so nice and plump in a couple of months. You want a Braun? I’ll give you however many you want.”

He really knew what to say, his words always coaxing you into your orgasm and a state of pleasure that you were positive was on the borderline of subspace. Sex with Reiner was an otherworldly experience on its own, but the effects that this hot tub had on the two of you and the possibility of someone watching from their window had the two of you approaching your orgasms faster than expected. Reiner was the first one to reach his. His load emptying inside of you like promised and your plush walls gripping at his twitching cock, milking him for all he had as your orgasm followed his only seconds later.

Per usual, the two of you remained in the position instead of pulling out immediately to reserve the cum inside of you like Reiner always liked to do. Just basking in that afterglow of sex and the relaxing waves of the hot tub.

It was the rattling of a flashlight against bars that brought the two of you out of your tranquil states and let the reminder that the two of you were still in public relish in. You moved off of him at the speed of light and adjusted your bikini so you were covered up once more. One glance over at Reiner and you saw him stuffing himself back into his swim trunks before diverting his attention over to the gate like you.

“The pool is closed. You two need to leave.”

“S-Sorry! We’ll be on our way!” You announced with red cheeks, hopping out of the water despite the wobbly feeling in your legs, Reiner following not too far behind.

Definitely not the last time the two of you were having jacuzzi sex.

ARMIN ARLET: between the shelves at the library

When you first met your blonde haired blue eyed boyfriend you never expected him to be as freaky as he was. You expected him to be shy, quiet, and wanting you to take the lead 90% of the time but it was nothing like that. It was like he switched to a completely different Armin when he got in the mood and you don’t know which one he switch to today, but you hoped to see more of the Armin who suggested that the two of you fuck between bookshelves in the library.

Now here you were; skirt bunched up around your thighs, shirt & bra both pulled down so Armin could stuff one of your nipples into his mouth to muffle his moans against, and your thighs slapping against his bare ones as you rode him on the floor of the Greek Mythology and Norse section. His hips bucking and rolling up into yours in a way that he knew made you whimper and whine, a teasing gesture knowing that you couldn’t do any of those two things right now. But still you took your chance and let out a muffled whimper, making his eyes go wide and mouth popping off of your nipple in an instant. His hand is quick to go over your mouth with a roughness that keeps you from letting out a breath that was too loud.

He couldn’t even whisper in your ear to mess with you like he wanted to, nor could either of you move your hips too fast and cause a lot of noise because you could hear a penny drop in this library. It was a Friday night which meant hardly anyone was in it, but still a few people were scattered out along in the medium sized building. Not to mention the nosey librarian who always spies on you two when you were in her view. All you could do was throw your head back in pleasure, hips rolling down harder into his to heighten the pleasure you were already feeling.

It was the rough padding of Armin’s thumb on your clit that sent your eyes shooting open and once they did you were met with the sight that you would never expect; a peeping Tom looking at the two of you from gaps that they had created in the bookshelf surrounding you two purposefully. With a loud gasp you hurried off of Armin, pulling your shirt up and adjusting your skirt with a quickness that had him confused and scared.

“Did I do something you didn’t like? I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked before I touched your clit.” Poor baby thinks it’s something that he did, but you’re quick to tell him about the unwarranted peeping Tom that gave you the creeps that had since disappeared. He was livid, ready to go after the man and possibly swing a punch or two his way, but it was your reminding of him that the two of you were indeed in a public place and couldn’t do much about it that calmed him down. Plus, you wouldn’t admit it out loud but the thought of someone watching the two of you that whole time kind of turned you on even more.

#I envision the peeping Tom for the Armin one to be Bertholdt just because #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot imagines #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun smut #armin arlet smut #armin arlet x reader #Spicy.

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this-is-spn20 · 4 years ago

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Imagine… Taking a swim in the lake, inviting Dean but he refuses. You give him a little surprise.

A/N: Haha! Gotcha bitches! I bet you thought you wouldn’t see me for the rest of the year! I got some more inspiration and I’m taking advantage of it! Hope you guys enjoy this little imagine!

-Marissa

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Being a hunter was stressful. Very stressful. You’re always on high alert, wondering if the people you interact with have ill intentions for you. Are they a monster? Are they just another hunter who doesn’t like you? Not to mention when you’re on a case. Jesus the cases. You have to go to the crime scene as some form of law enforcement, look at the state of the body, and see if the MO matches any of the monsters you deal with on a regular basis. If it is then you have to interview the victim’s family for clues, find out the last place the victim was at AND interview the people there to see if the victim left with someone. Oh and let’s mention the fact that you have to research the monster and see if it’s just one or a whole pack/team. Then you gotta figure out their hiding place and kill them, then skip town. It’s… a lot to say the least.

That’s why hunters needed outlets. Many of them resort to drinking. Some hustle some unsuspecting strangers in bars in a game of darts and pool. Some do target practice to blow off steam. Some even just resort to sex. Most hunters do all of the above. You wonder if that ever gets old to them. Now don’t get it twisted, you don’t judge hunters. It’s not like there is an abundance of things for them to do to forget about the life for a while. But, it must get old eventually, right? Ah, the glories of being a hunter. But despite all that, you get a few hunters that have actual hobbies like painting, maybe an instrument of some sort. But you personally loved swimming. In addition to being a fun way to stay in shape, it also helped you relieve stress. Swimming just sort of helped your worries wash away.

You didn’t get much time to yourself living with the Winchesters. Your boyfriend Dean didn’t exactly share your views on how to relieve stress. He mostly followed the hunter’s way while you opted to do some normal things for yourself. You and Sam shared each other’s views on normal hobbies. You and Sam would often find yourselves in the library reading separate books in silence while the distant sound of gunshots could be faintly heard as your eyes skimmed over the pages. You even got Sam to swim with you on a case while Dean was, as usual, on the side drinking a beer. You’d tried to get Dean to try things your way but he was as stubborn as the word is itself. Anytime you were on a case you’d try to find a lake or a local pool to hop into. Most of the time, you weren’t lucky.

One day when monsters decided to give you all a break, you went walking in the woods behind the bunker. I mean, it's not like Kansas has an abundance of swimming pools. You just wanted to get some air. You weren’t sure how long you were walking but eventually, you came across a beautiful waterfall connecting to a fairly small pond. It was beautiful, you couldn’t resist. You stripped down to your underwear and left your clothes on the small cliff and left your phone there so it wouldn’t get wet. Your heart was soaring, you felt alive. The shock wore off quickly as your body hit the water. You stayed underwater for about a minute before your lungs were screaming at you to breathe. Surprisingly, the water was crystal clear. You could see the bottom of the pond pretty clearly. You hadn’t been able to just float on the water and relax in a long time.

You had lost track of time, the sun was starting to set but you didn’t really think much of it. You knew the path back to the bunker. You hadn’t taken any sharp turns. It was almost a straight line back to the bunker. “A few more minutes won’t hurt.” You sighed and you lean back against a wall of moss. It’s not like the boys would freak out, they knew you could take care of yourself.

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

Sam and Dean were freaking the fuck out. You had said you were going for a short walk that morning. It’s almost nightfall and you hadn’t contacted anyone in hours. They checked in with Jody, Donna, Charlie, and just about everyone they knew. Dean was pacing back and forth. Sam was trying to think of a place you would’ve gone. Both trying to put a brave face on for the other but failing miserably.

“Where could she possibly be! She couldn’t have walked too far from here? Should we try driving around and see if we see her?” Dean stopped pacing and had grabbed his favorite pistol almost halfway to the door. Sam had caught up to him in the Map room.

“Dean wait for a few seconds. What if the simplest solution is right here? We haven’t tracked her phone yet. Maybe she’ll turn up that way. If not, then we’ll start driving.” Sammy, always the voice of reason. Dean nodded.

“Okay fine, let’s check her location. Hurry up though, it's supposed to be freezing tonight.”

Sam made the short jog to get his computer and start tracking Y/n’s location. The program spat back coordinates that were about 3 miles away from the bunker. Both boys looked at each other confused and worryingly when they saw the coordinates led to some unknown location in the woods. ‘What could she possibly be doing way out there?’ Dean thought.

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

You had just came up from your dive in a row when you heard footsteps and branches cracking under the weight up something. You stayed as silent as possible. You were just about ready to scold yourself for being paranoid when figures with flashlights came into your view. They looked like Sam and Dean.

“Sam! Dean!” You shouted from the water.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing out here?” Dean shouted exasperated.

“I found this beautiful pond!. I couldn’t help it guys I just got excited. I’m sorry if I worried you guys.” You pouted slightly.

“You’re damn right we were worried! You-” Sam cut dean off. “It’s fine Y/N. As long as you’re safe, everything is fine.”

Dean sighed then nodded in agreement. “Sam is right. Now get out of there, it's getting cold out here.” You pouted.

“How about you two join me? Just for a quick dip! Please?” Dean shook his head while Sam looks on with a smile.

“Dean…” A thought had crossed your mind. “Would you mind helping me out of here?”

Dean nodded and reached his hand down for you to grab. When you grabbed his hand you pulled him down. Right before Dean hit the water he let out a big yelp. Sam’s laughter filled the area but soon died down when Dean glared at him. You kissed Dean on the cheek, knowing he could never stay mad at you.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up. I’ll get my revenge on you both when I'm warm and dry.” Dean grumbled.

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

A/N: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this little treat from me! Requests are always open! Expect more soon!

Spread Love

-Marissa

#sam winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural imagines #spn imagine

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 4 years ago

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Sleep talk

Harry Holland

A/N- i literally have no patience so i’m giving you all this way earlier than i anticipated. OOps 🤭❤️

Summary- a bad habit of talking in your sleep gets you into a predicament you would have never expected

Word count- 4k

Warnings- sleep talking. Smut. So much smut. additional warnings under the cut.

🌸🌼 Masterlist 🌼🌸

Warnings: Wet dreams. oral (F receiving) unprotected sex, (Please wrap it up!)

You wondered if anyone else felt that the car was stuffy. Sandwiched between Sam and Harry with Tom and Harrison in the front, there was little to no room. This was day three of the ten day road trip, and you were officially tired of sitting in the car. Sam was respectful, trying to give you as much space as he could with you being in the middle seat, Harry on the other hand was pushed up into you with his hand resting on your leg for the umpteenth time. Not that you particularly minded, but you weren't sure why he was being so touchy with you. Your mind kept wandering every time his fingers brushed across your thigh, and as much as you tried to not think the things you were about him, you couldn't help it.

You had finally given up, and closed your eyes, hoping the ache that was in your core would dissipate. There was quite literally nothing you could do about it yourself, at least in the moment. So with your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown up on the headrest you tried desperately to get the dirty thoughts about your close friend Harry Holland out of your head.

It probably would have worked too, until you felt his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His warm breath ghosting the skin of your neck, spreading goosebumps all through your skin and making that desperate ache grow ten times. You couldn't take it anymore. With your thighs squeezed together, in hopes of any relief you let out a loud sigh. “Harrison, can we please stop at the next place with a restroom?” You asked, hoping that no one noticed the desperation in your tone. Harrison obliged, pulling into a nearly empty rest stop only a few miles further down.

As soon as Sam was out of your way you bee lined it towards the building, rushing to the bathroom like your life depended on it. You stood in the tidy restroom, with mirrors that barely offered a reflection. You splashed cold water on your face hoping the ache would disappear now that you weren't stuck to Harry.

Years upon years of knowing the Hollands, and since day one Harry had always tickled your fancy. The curly red hair, the humor the boy quite simply radiated, the warm kind eyes, and his smile. Oh his smile. This road trip was supposed to be a fun experience, a vacation of sorts, but it just seemed to be a constant torture for you. The other boys sticking you with Harry every chance they got. You were sure it was merely a coincidence, there was absolutely no way they knew about your crush. Right?

Last night though, had taken the cake. The hotel had only one room left and they had stuck you and Harry in one bed. You claimed it was no big deal, but in the middle of the night when he had unconsciously thrown his arm around your waist and pulled you into him, you were sure you were going to explode then and there. And the ache just seemed to keep growing.

The door opened causing you to jump. You looked over to see Harry walking in, weary of the fact that he was in the ladies room.

“What are you doing?” You asked him. The smirk that creeped up his lips let you know, he knew. He had to know. Why else would he follow you into a rest stop restroom?

“I was just worried about you, love,” his voice was low, deeper than usual, and you could feel your pussy clench at the sound of his voice.

“I'm alright,” You whispered. His eyebrows raised as he took another step towards you. You shivered as a million ways he could simply take you right now flashed through your mind.

“I've noticed the things you have been doing you know,” he smirked. Your eyes grew wide, not sure exactly what he meant. You have been doing an awful lot lately. “Every time i touch you, your thighs clench together, probably in hopes to relieve some of the pressure that has surely built up over the last few days,” the truth behind the things he said had your mouth hanging open, unaware of what to say to him. He closed the distance between the two of you arms boxing you in as you leaned against the wall in absolute complete shock.

“I-” You began to try and say anything but his finger pressed against your lips. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked over you, a fire in his eyes you had never seen before.

“Am I wrong?” He whispered as he brought his lips to your neck, leaving the softest kisses down from behind your ear to your shoulder. You let out a moan, as you felt yourself grow wetter. “Didn't think so,” Harry mumbled before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss started slowly, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Moving gently over yours, but soon it became deep and with intent, you could feel his hand traveling down your body stopping right before the pool that had accumulated in your underwear. This was it.

The car screeched to a halt and you could hear Tom cursing at the driver in front of you, you looked around shocked that you had fallen asleep. When did Tom and Harrison swap seats? More importantly, how long had you been asleep and how much of your dream had slipped from your unconscious lips. You were a sleep talker, like majorly, so the panic set in instantly, having just had a wet dream about the boy to your right.

Harrison noticed you had woken up first, turning around in his seat as much as he could to look at you. “Morning y/n, have a good sleep?” it didn't seem as there was any teasing behind his question so you were hopeful.

“S’allright. How long was i out?” you felt Harry's body move as if he was chuckling you turned to see a giant shit eating grin spread across his face. You felt your stomach twist. “What did I say?” you asked burying your face in your hands, you knew this could be bad.

“It's okay love, think only I heard,” Harry whispered.

“I heard,” Sam piped in.

“So did we,” Tom announced from the driver's seat. You groaned in embarrassment, why did you have to have a wet dream in a car with your closest friends.

“Was it bad?” you finally asked, peering through your fingers to see Harry's face. You could clearly tell he was holding back something.

“Oh Harry,” Tom mimicked your voice.

“Better than my dreams,” Harrison added.

“Soo soo good,” Sam chuckled.

This was it, the end of your life, this was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened.

“Please don't stop Harry,” Harry whispered in your ear, eyebrows raised, obviously enjoying this. You were sure you were as red as a tomato at this point, your worst fears coming to life.

“Oh my god, you could have woken me up!” You shrieked, burying your face deeper into your hands.

“It seemed like a very good dream, didn't want to interrupt,” Harrison chuckled from in front of you.

You decided to keep your eyes closed for the next few hours, being sure not to fall asleep. When you finally arrived at the small cabin that had been rented for the night, prior to the trip you were relieved to be able to breath and stretch. You had stayed relatively quiet, you were absolutely mortified and you didn't want to become more embarrassed by anything you could say or do at this point.

“Y/N” Tom called. You turned your attention to him, not having heard what he had just said. “Only two rooms, so I'm going to have you bunk with Harry again. You don’t mind right?” He said the last part with a smirk and you knew instantly you would never live this down.

“Course she doesn't,” Harry chimed in, throwing his arm around your shoulder. saving you from having to respond in any way. You smiled up to him through your lashes, silently thanking him. He nodded at you and winked.

Your heart skipped a beat.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Sam whipped up a quick but delicious dinner before the five of you went to your sleeping areas. Tom and Harrison took the bunk room, Sam settled with the pullout bed, leaving you and Harry to share a full sized bed. It would be a snug night.

“You okay darling?” Harry asked as he settled into the bed next to you, you were trying to not let your mind wander. Sleep, you were going to just sleep tonight.

“Other than being mortified, I'm alright,” You mumbled as you rolled onto your side facing away from Harry.

“Because of your dream?” you felt him shuffling on the bed before his hand reached out gently resting on your hip. “You can't control the things your subconscious comes up with. Honestly it was flattering,”

“Seriously?” you asked, face deadpan. As you turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows at you. “It wasn't my subconscious Harry, yes i happened to be asleep, but i have been having these thoughts for weeks. Imagining you stripping me naked and having your way with me. Every time you touch my leg, I hope your hand will travel between my thighs. I'm longing for you to scratch an itch I wasn't even aware I had,” you took a deep breath and then realized what you had just said. “You're my best friend, I'm not supposed to be thinking like this,” You went to turn back around, but Harry reached out grabbing your waist. Before you even had a second to respond you felt Harry's lips crash into yours. His fingers gripped onto your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you, you of course reciprocated, your hands rested on his chest as he pulled your body closer to his. His lips left yours causing a whimper to leave your mouth.

He moved his mouth to your neck, leaving soft kisses and light nibbles down the sensitive skin, till he reached your collar bone. He looked up at you, with lust filled eyes. “I haven't been able to get you off my mind,” He admitted shyly, returning his lips to yours. You smiled into his kiss.

“You're joking,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth while shaking his head. You were sure everything melted away at that moment. Your arms went around his neck as his arms went around your waist closing any distance that was between the two of you. The kisses became sloppy and hungry as Harry's hands slipped under your shirt. The feeling of his fingers on your bare skin sending a wave of excitement through your body. “Harry,” You moaned as his lips ghosted over the skin on your neck.

“Tell me what you want love,” his voice was deeper than normal, and filled with lust making you shiver.

“Touch me please,” You nearly begged him. He raised one eyebrow before letting his hand that he had moved to your cheek travel unimaginably slow down your body.

“Where do you want me to touch?” He asked you as his hand made its way to your breast, cupping it and feeling around over your shirt until he had the bead of your nipple between his fingers gently rolling it. You gasped at the sudden stimulation. He lifted your shirt replacing his fingers with his mouth letting his tongue roll it around while his hand glided down your stomach stopping just before the waistband of your pajama bottoms. “Can I?” he asked coyly.

“Please,” You let out as his hand slipped down past your pants and your undies. His fingers gently glided through your soaking folds, before finding your bundle and rubbing it lightly in a circular motion. You let out a moan at the action.

"Take it off for me," Harry said as he pulled his hand away from you.

You began to shake slightly your eyes shooting open, was this seriously happening a second time in the same day? You looked over to see Harry propped up on his elbow next to you, his features illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the curtains. His grin was undeniable.

“Please, i don't even want to know,” You groaned as you buried your face deep in the pillow.

“Oh but I want to know,” He said as he ran his fingers down your spine. “Please tell me what I am doing in your dreams to make you make those noises?”

You lifted your head, looking at him. You could tell him everything and maybe he would feel the same and actually act on your wild dreams, or you could pretend not to remember and hope this never happened again. He leaned in closer to you and his lips brushed against your earlobe. “Tell me how I'm making you moan like that in your pretty little head,” he whispered.

You let out a gasp, at his sudden close proximity to you. You could already feel the juices pooling in your panties.

“Well,” You gulped. “It usually starts with you kissing me,” His grin grew as he leaned in, letting his lips nearly touch yours. You were sure you were about to melt.

“Just like this?” he whispered, not actually connecting your lips.

“Y.y.yeah,” you stuttered out, your mind going wild at what was actually happening.

“And then?” he asked, licking his lips as he stared into your eyes.

“You move to my neck.” He moved his hand so it was on your neck, his fingers brushing up and down your skin.

“Kissing, sucking, or biting?” he asked. You nodded to him, unable to think about anything. He flashed you a smile before moving his lips down to your neck, barely kissing your skin.

“What's next?” he asked into your skin, not moving his lips from where they were peppering the most gentle kisses.

“Either you touch my boobs or go down lower, but then i always wake up,” you admitted, your voice breathy and uneven. Harry lifted his head from your neck with wide eyes.

“You're telling me that's as far as it goes and I have you making noises like that?” The shock on his face and in his voice was cute, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

“Yes,” you said coyly, a serious blush spreading across your cheeks.

"How long have you been having these dreams y/n?" He asked you quietly. You felt your breath hitch and you didn't want to admit to him that this isn't a new thing, your attraction to him has been a thing for years. You shook your head, not wanting to answer the question. “How long?” he repeated.

“Months,” You whispered, barely audible, But by the cocky look on his face you could tell he had heard you loud and clear.

“And you have never said anything, because?” He asked as he placed his hand on your stomach slowly sliding it down.

“I didn't think it was appropriate,” You mumbled, as you watched his hand as it slipped between the hem of your pajamas and panties. You let out a gasp as his fingers slid up and down your panties.

"So wet, and for what? I haven't even done a thing," Harry teased. You couldn't believe this was happening, especially after the day you had. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, but in this moment you could care less. "Tell me what you want me to do," he told you as he rubbed you over your panties.

"If we're being honest Harry, all I can think of is how you would feel inside of me," as soon as the words left your mouth you were shocked at yourself, unsure of what exactly had come over you.

"Let's find out then princess," he whispered as he grabbed your pants and panties and peeled them off your body. You felt exposed laying sans bottoms in front of Harry, your friend, who you had feelings for. He reached down, running a finger through your slick folds, and then bringing it up to his mouth. The motion alone was enough for you to nearly die, the idea of Harry tasting you was unbelievably hot, and judging by the obvious bulge in his pajama pants, he agreed.

You reached out to palm him through the fabric of his pants, and as soon as you made contact he let out a quiet groan before pushing you down onto the bed, and finally connecting your lips.

Kissing Harry was everything you expected and more, his lips were soft and gentle all while being rough and hungry for yours. He kissed you with such passion you were sure this had to be yet another dream. It wasn't until you managed to push his sweats halfway down his thigh, revealing his hard outline in his boxers that you were fully sure this was in fact happening.

He moved his lips from yours and down the entirety of your body, focusing a little on your breasts, being sure to pay each one the equal amount of attention, until finally making his way to right above your heat. This was always the part you would wake up, never having experienced Harry between your legs, tongue at work while his curls tickled the inside of your thighs, just the thought of wrapping your fingers in those unruly curls to hold him closer to you made your mouth salivate. When he finally dipped his head down, running his tongue all the way from your entrance to your clit you let out a loud moan, forgetting that the three others were only separated by thin walls. The noises you were making were like music to Harry's ears, telling him he was doing a perfect job, and once your fingers grasped at his hair and began to tug tightly he knew you couldn't get enough of his tongue. He moved his hand from where it had been resting on your knee, slid it up your thigh slowly until his fingers were able to tease your entrance while his tongue focused all on your sensitive nub, drawing circles and flicking it so perfect that once his finger went inside it only took you about two brushes against your g spot for you to completely let go, and Harry rode that shit out, not stopping his precise movements until your moaning and gasping had quieted a little.

He pulled away from you, face glistening in the moonlight with a mixture of your orgasm and his saliva, he wiped his face with the back of his hand before crawling over you, and kissing you again. This kiss was different, more soft and gentle, still with purpose but unlike the first it seemed rather intimate, Harry let his body sink down onto yours, his clothed bulge brushing your sensitive nub while he continued to kiss you.

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, as you hooked your fingers in the hem of his waistband.

"We'll get there baby," he said brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face. The unusual pet name towards you just made your want for him grow. Harry Holland was to good for this earth, too good for you, yet here he was, fueling your fan fiction fantasies, and he was doing it so well you could almost forget that once this was over, you would go back to just being friends, and nothing more. Cause if you were sure of one thing it was that despite your ever growing feelings for Harry, he was not one to develop feelings, in the years you had known him you had never seen him be in a relationship. Which made you think he just wasn't interested.

With his hips grinding against yours while the two of you kissed for what felt like forever you could feel the ache building back up, needing more of him, needing to feel him. He disconnected your lips, pushing himself onto his knees so he could pull his boxers down, his cock which was oh so yummy slapping up against his stomach before he grabbed it and pumped it a few times. "You sure?" He asked you. Eyes full of worry. Once you did this there was no going back, even though your heart would probably break knowing he would never be yours.

"Never been more sure of anything else," you told him. He flashed you his giant Harry smile before lining himself at your entrance, his cock teasing you as his eyes were focused on your face. He wanted to see your reaction to him, to see how he made you feel. He pushed in slowly, giving you ample time to stretch to his size, though with how aroused you were you didn't need all that much. When his hips were flush against yours he started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, bit then harder and faster, stroking your spot with every thrust. The noises coming from the two of you sounded like they were out of a porno, skin slapping against skin, moans escaping from your lips and groaning from him as he pounded into you. After a few minutes of that he brought his hand down between you, letting his fingers rub circles on your nub, it wouldn't take you long now.

"Harry, 'm Soo close," you moaned, your fingers digging into the skin on his back.

"Me to baby, me to," he mumbled as he sped up his rhythm. When the cord finally snapped you felt a wave wash over you, of complete and utter euphoria. You felt Harry twitch inside you before slowing his thrusts down and falling onto your body. Your pretty sure you blacked out for a bit after that, cause when you finally open your eyes, the sun is streaming through the curtains and you are snuggled up against Harry. For a second you're worried it was just a dream, until you notice you are both still sans clothes under the sheet.

"Morning," Harry mumbles, eyes still closed.

"Good morning," you say quietly, not sure what's going to happen from here.

"Last night was amazing," he says after a few excruciating seconds. You giggle and nod your head, afraid that your word will betray you. "I've been waiting for that for years," he adds. Your eyes grow wide as you prop yourself up to look at his face.

"What did you just say?" You demand. His eyes flutter open and look directly at you, a smile on his face.

"I have been waiting for that for years," he repeats matter of factly. He could see the shock written on your face, so he reached out to grab your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You didn't honestly think I didn't have feelings for you did you? Why do you think Tom and Haz were always forcing us to bunk together?" You think back to all the times where the other three boys would group you and Harry off, leaving the two of you alone, and suddenly it all makes sense.

"You like me?" You ask, a smile spreading on your face.

"Baby, I'd be crazy if I didn't," he whispers, leaning up to kiss your lips.

Right then the door flies open and an irritated Tom, Harrison, and Sam are stood in the doorway. You're fully aware of your naked state now, clutching the sheet to cover all the exposed parts of your body.

"You guys were SO loud last night," Harrison says looking back and forth between the two of you. You mumble a sorry, completely embarrassed, until Tom starts to laugh.

"It's about time," he says, walking over and patting Harry on the shoulder before the three of them disappear back into the main area of the cabin.

"Whoops," Harry laughs, placing a kiss on your temple. You look up at him and can't help but smile.

#harry holland smut #harry holland #harry robert holland #harry holland x y/n #harry holland one shot

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

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moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful.

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love.

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system.

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection.

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period.

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up.

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed.

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands.

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.”

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long.

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs.

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder.

“Yeah, Y/n/n.”

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber.

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

xx hj

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #american assassin fic #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brian imagine #mitch rapp x y/n #stiles x reader #we will rock queue #yelenasdog

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rosehearrt · 2 years ago

Note

the pool is actually quite nice-- he thinks. as he lounges on what he would consider a mock shore. though it's beach has no sand, and the water smells of chlorine. he is partially submerged in the shallowest stretch of water. " take all the time you need. " he hums, watching riddle. who is currently standing in water that's just up to his knees. maybe, were anyone else, he would of made a joke about how silly it was. but for riddle's sake, and his own, he bites his tongue.

" though, if you come out a little further, i can help better. " rolling some, tail shifting to push him out until he can properly float. ducking below the surface, only to pop up again a few feet away. both hands still able to touch the bottom, though without much difficulty. " we can stay within four to five feet today, how does that sound?"

Riddle’s expression fluctuated between suspicion and uncertainty. It wasn’t that he was frightened of water, per say, nor that he lacked the understanding of how the physics involved with swimming worked, but it was all very new. Needless to say, mother had never let him near any large body of water whatsoever, what was inside of his head far more important to her. She also hadn’t wanted him developing any ‘ unsightly ’ muscles - his body always had to remain just so in order to be able to secure the best possible marriage prospects in the future. But now, here he was, seventeen-years-old and unable to swim. And…well…that fact made it so that he could potentially get himself into grave danger for something easily remedied. Thus, he’d decided to remedy it. Well - actually, Jade had, but still. Riddle had agreed to it.

Because as much as the eel grated on his nerves, and as much as the redhead couldn’t always discern what sort of intentions he had, he did enjoy Jade, and he very much enjoyed their highly intellectual conversations. It was nice, having a classmate who always volunteered to hand out papers with him, who was his go-to for projects, and who was always able to keep up with him when discussing lectures or reading materials. Jade was on a similar level intellectually, in short, and it made him both easy and pleasant to talk to. He wasn’t sure whether or not he trusted the eel, but…he supposed he had to, on some level in order to agree to this.

Though now that they were actually at the pool, he wasn’t entirely sure. The water wasn’t terribly cold around his knees, but he knew the moment he got in that he’d be completely vulnerable, and he didn’t do well with that sort of thing. In fact, he was so overtaken by his anxiety at the moment that he didn’t even have it in him to get excited over the prospect of seeing Jade in his eel form and the idea that he may get to ask questions about it. He was stuck in his own head, staring down at the water, where his distorted reflection stared back at him.

“…I’m not certain that I’m ready for even that much.”

It was a difficult thing to admit, but it was either vulnerability in the way that could potentially endanger his life, or vulnerability that could embarrass him, so the correct choice was fairly clear.

“You seem rather chipper. Back in your element?”

For now, perhaps a change of subject, and more of a focus on Jade and his behavior would do him some good. So, he attempted to lean into his curiosities more, his arms crossed. He could manage to sit here, right where he was, so slowly he lowered himself. It didn’t help with the slight chill that went through him upon being half-in and half-out, but that was alright.

“I suppose you must miss the ocean at times. You and Floyd both speak so fondly of it.”

#hirudou #v. & ˗ˏˋ UNKNOWN ˎˊ˗ ─ 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺; 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 .#.*･｡ﾟ♕ ˗ˏˋ ANSWERED. ˎˊ˗ ─ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 .#he scareddddd #water scaryyyy

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javier-pena · 4 years ago

Text

interlude I

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 4.5k (or a “drabble”)

Rating: Explicit (there’s s** in this)

Summary: You invite Katie over for dinner, but Javi is late.

Notes: Okay so first, this is actually set after Part 2 of Triumvirate which I haven’t written yet, but today is also Dani @javierpcna‘s birthday and I wanted her to wake up to a short drabble, so here we are. Dani, my beloved, happy birthday!! I hope this is a small surprise, it took everything in me not to give anything away, I wanted to text you about it multiple times a day, and I do hope I wasn’t too obvious in the things we discussed. I hope there aren’t any embarrassing typos in this, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me if there are.

masterlist | join the taglist

***

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

Javi is late. You‘re used to it, and you’ve learned to live with it. His job is demanding, unpredictable, capricious, he keeps irregular hours, and you know he hates to keep you waiting, but sometimes it is out of his hands. Only tonight … tonight you’ve got plans, and he’s not here.

Katie is.

She’s been here for more than half an hour. And still there is no sign of Javi. If Katie had been anyone else, you would have been embarrassed by your boyfriend’s tardiness. But Katie knows. She works in the same field, the same office; she knows what it’s like when something comes up, she knows you can’t always keep the promises you make. All you can do is wait for a little while longer and then start dinner without Javi.

But it’s a hot day, and you’re both on the couch in the living room, enjoying cold drinks and idle conversation. Katie tells you about one of the men at the embassy who always wants to get into Javi’s good books but who is too much of an asshole to be taken seriously. You laugh at Katie’s impression of him, the way she pinches her eyes and hunches her shoulders and lowers her voice. It’s only when you’re breathless with laughter that Katie lets herself fall back into the cushions of the couch with a happy sigh.

She looks so proud that she’s making you laugh, and your chest tightens at the sight.

“God, it’s hot,” she complains with a grunt, pulling her shirt away from her chest. “Would it be okay if I undid some of the buttons?”

“Of course,” you answer with a nod.

Katie smiles a silent thank you and unbuttons her shirt until you can see the top of her breasts. Your eyes immediately snap back up to her face, and you hope she hasn’t noticed where they were a second earlier. Still, you feel your heart pick up speed.

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

“It’s kind of cruel they make you wear all of this,” you say with a nod at Katie’s outfit. “Especially considering the weather.”

Katie smirks but it’s more of a grimace than a smile. “It’s all about keeping up appearances,” she explains, taking a sip from her drink.

You know how much Javi hates having to wear a suit, but he always says it’s part of the job, especially his job, his position. And you busy yourself trying to recall what he told you the last time you were talking about this because three small droplets are currently making their way down Katie’s neck and into her cleavage. You don’t think she’s noticed, but you also don’t want to draw any attention to it because you don’t want her to know you’ve been looking.

“Javi says the same,” you tell her instead, a lame attempt to keep the conversation going.

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

Katie is right, it is hot, you feel it too, even though you’re wearing a light sundress. And it doesn’t help that the droplets are still making their steady way down, and it doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to lean forward and catch them on your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Katie asks you.

You realize you’ve been staring at her neck for too long, and it makes her look down, too. She wipes at the droplets before they reach their destination.

“Oh no, I think I’ve made a mess,” she says with a small, angry sigh.

“It’s fine,” you tell her quickly, trying to take the glass from her. You just brush your knuckles against it, spilling even more of the liquid.

Katie giggles breathlessly.

You can’t tell who starts it, but her lips are soft and hot against your own when you meet them, her tongue lazily grazing against yours. Your eyes are closed, all your senses are focused on her hot skin and wet kisses, and you feel too tired and wrung out from the heat to do much more than nip at her bottom lip. Katie sighs happily and brings up a hand to cup your cheek.

“Missed you,” she admits with a soft brush of her fingers against your skin.

You had no ulterior motive when you invited Katie. It was just supposed to be dinner – and nothing more. But she’s right here on the couch, right next to you, and you can feel the heat radiating off her body, setting your blood on fire until it moves through your veins like molten lava. And you realize there’s no such thing as just dinner with Katie because if her mere proximity to you is enough to make your stomach curl with desire then there’s no way you can pretend any longer.

You shift, so you can reach more of her, pressing kisses against the damp skin of her neck, feeling her pulse against your lips, and it makes you squirm. You bite the soft skin tentatively, eliciting a gasp from her, so you do it again, but she moves away from you only to pull you close again, crushing her lips against yours. You moan into her mouth, too desperate, too needy, but she likes it. Teeth clash, hot air comes out in soft gasps, your body’s heat mingles with hers, creating something like a cyclone, something that will gather its own momentum if you let it. Katie’s kisses are hungry, and so are yours; her encouraging moans are enough to make you grow damp with desire, damp like her skin, and you feel heat pool between your legs, a heat that has nothing to do with the one surrounding you.

She must feel it, too, feel a steady, unrelenting pull, because her hand is first on your thigh, covered in the soft fabric of your summer dress, then it is on your skin, covered in the glistening sheen of summer heat, and then her finger finds your center, finds your clit, finds the rapidly growing damp spot on your panties. It’s not enough, if anything, it makes things worse, like an itch that you scratch only once so it burns even more intensely. And Katie doesn’t even scratch the itch, she just touches is, probes it with innocent curiosity, while you moan loudly at her touch and feel your eyes close out of their own free will. All you can focus on is Katie’s slim finger pressed against you.

And her breath – her hot, urgent breath on the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Oh, so you do want this …”

You don’t even have time to tell her how much, how much you’ve been thinking about it, thinking about her, how you’re not yet ready to examine these feelings and what they mean for you, how you don’t know when and if and how you should talk to Javi about it, but all of this doesn’t matter when Katie pushes the thin fabric of your panties aside.

It doesn’t matter when Katie’s finger finds your clit.

You whimper and push yourself into her touch. You want to tell her how much you’ve missed her soft, sweet, chaste attention on you, but you’re so overwhelmed that all you can do is find her thigh and dig your nails into the fabric of her trousers. You feel yourself clench in time with the circular movements of Katie’s finger, you feel yourself burn with want, and when you open your eyes, you feel the air being knocked from your lungs. Katie’s eyes are on your face, she’s watching you intently, her gaze roaming over your slightly parted mouth, your burning cheeks, your tense neck. It’s like she’s waiting for some sort of confirmation, for you to tell her everything is okay, and you know that once you give her that, you won’t be able to come back from it. The thing is – you don’t want to come back from it.

You swallow hard. “More, please,” you whimper.

Katie’s eyes shine with something akin to relief as a soft puff of air tickles your cheek. You think about kissing her, about feeling her lips glide against your own, about her tongue mirroring her finger’s movements, before she shifts, leans back, and you freeze in panic. Did you make a mistake? Did she make one? Does she maybe not want this at all? But then her hand claws at your panties as she tears them off of you and pushes a finger into you, and every doubtful thought is forgotten. You clench around her immediately and by the way she bites her lip you know she can feel your desperation.

Everything comes to a stop for a few short seconds, even the cars and people and noises outside seem to be silenced, and it’s just the two of you, it’s just her inside of you and the air between you that you both share. You lean forward and kiss her chin, kiss her cheek, kiss her jaw, and then she captures your lips between hers. You expect it to be soft, but it’s not, she pushes against you urgently, and suddenly, as all the noises come back, you realize it’s not just you – she feels the same way.

Insecure.

Curious.

Turned on.

Katie pushes a second finger into you, and fucks you slowly, lazily, without urgency. And still, it sets you on fire. It makes you burn like she’s a flame and you’re too close to her, you feel like nothing can quench the desire burning your limbs, your throat, in the pit of your stomach. Her slow strokes only stoke it, they don’t bring the relief you thought they would. You feel hot and slick and sticky, you feel trapped in your dress, trapped between Katie’s fingers and her lips and her body and the couch at your back, and the only way to move on is to go forward, so you push yourself onto Katie’s fingers with a roll of your hips. You hear her sigh softly, so you repeat the motion, repeat it a third time, a fourth, a fifth, until she isn’t fucking you so much anymore as you’re fucking yourself on her fingers. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of pure bliss this gives you, relaxing around her, trusting her to take care of you. Katie lets you for a while, she lets you take over until you feel like you’re in charge of the situation before she brushes her thumb against your clit, and you almost come.

Your eyes fly open to tell her that, to warn her to … ask her for permission? … you’re not sure yourself. Katie is looking at you in concentration, her cheeks red, her teeth digging into her bottom lip that is even redder, her eyelids low with hazy want. She looks so beautiful, and you feel a surge of pride at the thought that you are the one doing this to her. But then you see something behind her … and you freeze.

It’s Javi.

He is watching you with an expression that is utterly unreadable, and you only know he isn’t frozen because he is clenching and unclenching his right hand in rapid movements. You don’t know what to do, you don’t know what to say, all you can think about is what he might be thinking, but you can’t read his expression. Why can’t you read it? You grip Katie’s wrist and try to push yourself into a sitting position. Katie stills her hand and follows your gaze over her own shoulder. As soon as her eyes land on Javi, he steps towards you.

“Stop that,” he growls.

That’s all the evidence you need. You can tell you’ve fucked up by the way his eyelids lower, by the weight he puts into each step as he walks towards you, by the slight tremor in his voice. The intense pleasure you’ve been feeling this past quarter of an hour is replaced by intense panic, one you can taste on your tongue – metallic, sharp, bitter. All you can think about is to explain to him that you don’t know what you’re doing, that you will make sure you won’t see Katie ever again, that this doesn’t mean anything.

Liar, whispers a voice in your head. You fucking liar.

But Katie isn’t moving, her fingers are still inside of you as she watches Javi walk toward you. You squirm and try to push yourself off her – how does she not see the look in his eyes? How does he not want to run and hide?

“Stop that,” Javi repeats, and it sounds softer now, more exasperated.

You want to tell him that you’re trying, but before you can say anything, before just one weak sound leaves your lips, Katie uses her free hand to push you down into the couch again with so much determination that the air is punched from your lungs. She’s so much stronger than she looks, and if you didn’t feel like your entire world was falling apart, her strong grip on your hip would turn you on.

“What -?” you gasp.

Neither of them is offering you an answer. Katie’s eyes are on Javi and Javi’s eyes are on the floor, the coffee table, the wall … anywhere but on you. He lets himself fall into his old leather chair opposite the couch, not even taking off his worn leather jacket, and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He proceeds to light one as if he has all the time in the world, as if he was the only person in the room, coming home from an exhausting day at work, trying to unwind, as if there weren’t two women opposite him, his girlfriend and his colleague, one buried knuckles-deep in the other.

He leans back, the cigarette between his lips, and you forget how to breathe. It’s just him now, his intense, hard gaze on you, and you know you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He pins you down like a fragile butterfly, and all you can do is take it. Katie also doesn’t move, she waits for Javi as a quiet tension settles around you. Javi takes a slow drag on his cigarette and regards you to with deep, dark calmness before he finally speaks.

“Go on then,” he says with a small nod, “make her come.”

You whimper pitifully, all the tension you’ve been holding in your muscles leaving your body as you flood Katie’s fingers with your arousal, as you clench around her tightly.

Katie smirks at Javi. “You know, I think she’d really like that,” she tells him.

Of course you would, there is nothing you want more right at this very moment, but it’s all so much. Katie picks up the pace again, and all you can do is sink back onto the couch and take it, as Javi watches the two of you casually, smoking his cigarette as if he’s standing on the sidewalk waiting for a taxi, as if he’s on his lunch break trying to delay the moment he has to go back upstairs to his desk. Katie’s eyes are on you but her gaze flickers over to Javi once in a while as if she’s looking for validation and praise from him. When she’s looking at you, you feel your throat close up, you feel like you can’t breathe, but when she’s looking at Javi, you’d do anything to pull her attention back towards you.

And Javi? Javi is looking at you, mostly, right at you, and his gaze never flickers, not for one second. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet, this desperate. Katie’s fingers are stroking you, are gliding in an out of you with ease, while Javi watches every movement with interest, while he watches to see what someone else is doing to you, while he studies your heaving chest, your trembling thighs, your hands balled into fists.

Then his eyes flicker down, and he watches Katie’s fingers, watches them disappear and reappear, her slim fingers, coated in your slick. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you know exactly what he is thinking about. It makes your breath hitch, makes you grab Katie’s arm and hold on tight. Katie presses a quick kiss to your damp forehead, but Javi interrupts her.

“Slower,” he says, lighting another cigarette, “make her want it.”

Katie immediately follows his orders, slowing down, and for some reason, it feels much more intense now. You throw back your head, a throaty moan leaving your lips, as you feel Katie curl her fingers, as you feel her hit that one spot inside of you, the one Javi always finds with so much ease. She’s set on doing this right – she’s set on pleasuring you as much as she’s set on pleasing Javi. And it is too much, it already was too much when it was just Katie and you, but Javi watching you is the final straw. You’re so wound up you’re not even sure you’ll be able to come, no matter how well Katie is doing, no matter how much she’s trying to get this right. Your limbs are shaking, your fingers are tingling, your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, as you squeeze your eyes shut, completely overwhelmed by this situation you suddenly find yourself in.

Then you feel Katie hovering right next to you and you open your eyes again – everything else is blocked from your view by her long, wavy, brown hair. Her lips are next to your ear, you can feel her hot breath ghosting your even hotter skin. “Shhhh,” she whispers soothingly, and the air leaving her lips tickles you, drawing a high giggle from you.

From the other side of the coffee table, you hear Javi say, “Let her take care of you”.

With a small whimper, you let your head fall back until you’re flush against the backrest of the couch. The soft look in Katie’s eyes makes you want to give her anything she wants, anything at all, as long as she does what Javi is telling her to do.

“Please,” you breathe.

Katie doesn’t give any sign that she’s heard you, and then the penny drops: She only does what Javi is telling her to do. This might not be about just you and her, this might also be about her and him. You don’t quite know yet how to pigeonhole this information. But there’s something there, something you struggle to place, and everything becomes even more clouded when you look over at Javi and see the cigarette hang limply between his slightly parted lips.

You wish you could but a finger on it, bit all you know right now is that what Katie is doing isn’t enough, it only adds to the tightness between your legs without brining you the relief it should. And the only person who could give you that relief, not with actions but with words, is Javi.

So you turn your attention to him. “Javi, please.”

Javi shakes his head like waking up from a trance and puts out his second cigarette. He locks eyes with you, and there’s a strain in his voice when he answers your plea. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be asking.”

You swallow hard and look back at Katie, whose bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she waits for you to make the next move.

“Katie, please, I –”

But you don’t know how to end that sentence, you don’t know what you want from her anymore, all you know is that you want her to fuck you while Javi watches, and that realization hits you so unexpectedly that you cannot put it into words, even though you know it’s exactly what they both want to hear from you. Instead, you stop being passive, you stop just taking whatever Katie gives you, and you start to roll your hips again.

Katie lets out a surprised sound, something between a sigh and a moan with an edge of breathlessness to it. She flings back her hair with a snap of her neck and glances at Javi. “Is she always this inarticulate?” she asks him in an attempt to regain some control.

Javi has the audacity to chuckle, like this is just a game to him, but his voice is deep and raspy when he says, “Only when she’s desperate for it.”

It’s the way they talk about you like you’re not even there, like all their attention isn’t focused on you that makes you tighten around Katie’s fingers, that makes you pull her in even deeper.

“She’s so wet …,” Katie observes, her eyes shiny with lust, looking down at where she’s buried deep inside of you, “and tight.” And she scissors her fingers as she pulls them out slowly.

You fold in on yourself, mewling in desperation. Katie does it again and you tremble around her, holding onto whatever surface your hands can reach, a pillow, the couch, Katie’s arms, her legs. She makes you feel so good, and she gives you so much – her free hand softly strokes your hot skin, making it flare up even more, her lips find your exposed neck to leave hungry kisses, her mouth whispers to you, things you usually only hear in the darkness of the bedroom, and not in broad daylight with two sets of eyes on you.

And Javi isn’t just watching, he’s observing, his elbows on his knees, his hands folded tightly, and you want to know what he’s seeing, what he’s learning about you. Yes, he is enjoying himself, you can tell from the flush creeping up his neck, from the fact that he still hasn’t taken off his jacket, too transfixed by what he’s seeing, but there is more to it, maybe more than he’s willing to admit himself.

But he is excellent at hiding his feelings, at hiding the conclusion he comes to, at hiding his needs when there is a task to focus on, a puzzle to solve.

“Well,” he says, his eyes roaming across your upper body still covered by your dress, roaming across your naked legs, across Katie’s hand, across your slick coating her fingers, “seems to me like you’re doing a good job.”

Katie draws in a sharp breath and then draws you in for a deep kiss, and you can taste the pride on her lips and tongue, can feel the effect that praise has on her in the way she bites your lip, the way she moans against you, the way she curls her fingers just so.

“Please,” you whimper when she releases you, and your eyes snap back to Javi.

Katie’s hand comes up, her fingers closing around your chin, and she forces you to look back at her. “You heard him.” It’s almost a snarl, her voice raspy and gruff, her face a stern mask. “Ask me.”

And you do, you do it with so much conviction that her eyes grow wide. You do it because just as you know she wants to impress Javi, you want to impress her, you want to hear her praise you, flatter you, worship you.

“Please, I need to come,” you ramble as fast as your tongue can carry the words. “Please, please, let me come.”

Katie swallows hard, then pushes her chin out. “No.”

You feel tears of frustration prick at the corner of your eyes, and you do it again, you look at Javi, but before you can focus on him, Katie’s voice draws you back. “I told you to look at me.”

“Katie.” It’s barely a whisper, your voice strained from the effort of not making a complete fool of yourself by howling her name into the world. “Baby, please,” you go on, relishing how her cheeks are turning red at that. “Please let me come on your fingers.”

Without any warning, she pushes a third finger into you, and your voice turns from a whisper into a scream, one that is loud enough to echo to the end of the block. You push yourself off the couch and down onto Katie’s fingers, riding her, your hips rolling with a desperation that tastes like smoke and iron on your tongue.

“Doesn’t she make the prettiest sounds when she’s full?” Javi asks from somewhere far away.

Katie nods, and if she replies anything you don’t hear it because she chooses this moment to brush her thumb against your clit … just once. You fall back onto the couch, your legs spreading as wide as possible, one slung over Katie’s lap, the other trembling from the strain.

“Shit,” you whisper, over and over, as Katie does it again and again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks you. “You like being on display for him like this.”

This time, you don’t look at Javi, even though the answer is yes. You love this, you love the feeling of having his full attention but being unable to participate, you love how he’s studying you, and you love that he is giving this to you, that he lets you have this, even though you don’t yet know what consequences it will bring and what it will mean for you. All you know is that you need this.

“I like you fucking me like this,” you answer.

Katie’s eyelids flutter and you feel a sharp exhale against your cheek. “You hear that, Javier?” she asks, but snarl in her voice is gone.

You don’t let him answer, this doesn’t concern him anymore, it’s between you and her now. You push down on her fingers again, roll your hips until the friction of her thumb against your clit makes you sigh in relief.

“Come on, Katie, fuck me,” you challenge her. “Show him what you can do.”

And she finally does. You feel her tremble inside of you and then she holds your hip, like she’s seen him hold it, and she pushes her fingers in deep, so deep she hits something within you that makes you lose all control. You come on her fingers, flood her hand and the couch, hear Javi’s hoarse gasp, and you can tell this is only the beginning, you know that he let you have this, but he expects something in return, and while you’re still coming, while you still hold Katie’s fingers inside of you in a chokehold, you already feel arousal unfurl in the pit of your stomach again, sharper, deeper, more urgent.

And you ask yourself what it would be like if your positions were reversed – what it would be like to watch Javi and Katie –

Katie stills her fingers, and before you can ask for anything, before she even has time to pull them out, Javi’s voice cuts through your pants, through Katie’s shallow moans, and it makes you both look at him, it makes Katie shiver and it makes your walls flutter and your eyes close with an indescribably deep desire.

“Do it again.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i'm working on part 2 i swear #have this in the meantime

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Helping Hands

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life.

A/N: Day two of my 750 follower celebration is here! This was totally supposed to be a blurb and ended up being so much long lol. Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for this idea and letting me write it! And thanks to @spencers-dria for helping me out as always! This fic wasn’t originally going to be Gender Neutral I just ended up writing it that way on accident which is cool, I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible! I’ve had someone check it over for pronoun mistakes but please let me know if you spot any! This is also my first time writing in second person for Spencer!

Warnings: 18+, Enemies to lovers, Knife kink (use of a straight razor), Dry fucking, Humiliation, ONE slight nick to the skin- there’s just a very small bit of blood

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.68k

Your friendship with Spencer was shaky at best, the truth was you two were barely able to work together without biting each other’s heads off. It’s not that you wanted to butt heads with him almost every day, but when he picked apart everything you said constantly you always felt the need to bite back.

Emily just had to put you as roommates for this case so you guys could ‘work out your issues.’ Of course the case then ended up becoming one of your longest cases all year. The tension between you and Spencer ran high throughout the entire case, the petty arguments grew in rate as the team got less and less sleep each day. The case combined with the sleeping arrangements was definitely making you feel miserable.

Unfortunately these hellish two weeks didn’t even end with a completely good outcome. We had caught the unsub, but not before one of your own had ended up injured. Spencer had been securing the perimeter around the suspect’s house when the suspect (who ended up being the unsub) attacked him. Luckily, you hadn’t been that far away from him and were able to help him apprehend the man. You may butt heads with him almost every working day, but he was still a part of your team. You would never want him to be seriously hurt or worse. His knuckles ended up getting bruised and bloodied from his unexpected scuffle with the unsub today although he insisted he was fine.

The sight you were looking at now directly contradicted his words. His fingers were shaking badly as he tried to move his straight razor along his jaw that was coated in shaving cream. When he let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t get the right angle you decided to try and lend a helping hand. He seemed to get even angrier when you walked into the hotel’s bathroom, this wasn’t new however, he always seemed to get more agitated when he sensed your presence.

“Let me help you.” You snapped while reaching forward to grab the razor, your movements were in stark contrast to your words, only doing that softly as to not cut the both of you.

“Why do you want to help me?” He snapped back with just as much bite in his tone and jerked his hand away so you could not reach the razor.

“Does it matter? You need help and I’m offering to help. So sit down and let me help.” The real reason that you wanted to help didn’t have to be known by Spencer, he didn’t have to know that you felt guilty. His injuries were from no fault of your own however, you could not help a little bit of guilt pool in the bottom of your stomach. You may not like him very much, but again you did not want to see him hurt.

He finally acquiesced to your request sitting down on the edge of the tub that just had enough of a ledge so he could sit rather comfortably. You reached out and gestured towards the razor letting out a little sigh of relief when he handed it to you, glad that he was finally letting you help.

The handle of the razor was simple in design with no ornaments adorning it and it was made of a dark wood, perhaps mahogany. The simple design of the handle and blade did not mean that it was inexpensive, the weight in your hand alone was a testament of how finely made it probably was. You suspected it might have been one of the only things Spencer splurged his money on.

Soaping up his cheeks again, you then straddled his thighs so you could get as close as possible to him. He squeaked a little in surprise at your sudden willingness to be close to him. In all honesty, you didn’t really want to be that close to him, but you had promised to help him, this just was the only way you could get the correct angles.

Besides the initial squeak the fell from his lips Spencer had become strangely quiet as you got to work shaving off his stubble.

His silence was then replaced by something else, the inability to sit still. Each time you started to scrap the razor against his jaw his hips shuffled under you, making it extremely difficult to get a close enough shave.

“Stop squirming.” He of course felt the need to again not listen to you and he continued to squirm underneath you. You ran your fingers through his hair then tugging on the stands to crane his neck backwards so you could get full access to the underside of his jaw. He defiantly squirmed again, causing you to falter with the razor again, this time accidentally nicking the underside of his jaw.

Instead of hissing and pulling away from you would expect; Spencer threw you for a loop when he let out a loud moan while jutting his hips up into your own. A look of mortification came over Spencer’s face at his actions, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but with your body straddling him he couldn’t quite escape your grasp so easily.

You weren’t going to lie, Spencer was an attractive man, your favorite part of his looks being his fluffy locks and the scruff he left behind after shaving. You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of having an attractive man underneath you and begging. Experimentally you reached up with your free hand to brush up against the small nick that had only let out just a little drop of blood. Pushing down slightly on it you then rolled your hips to grind against his hardening cock in his slacks. His response to your actions pleased you, his slacks becoming more strained and another moan left his lips, this one much more high pitched.

“Are you ok with this? I won’t be gentle.”

“Yes, please do whatever you want.” You were pleasantly surprised how quickly a plea fell from his lips. It was going to be so easy to ruin him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. You may infuriate me, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.” He nodded quickly in understanding before tentatively moving his hands to rest on your hips lightly to make sure you were ok with his touch and so that his hands didn’t suffer from any unnecessary pain.

You were right, it was extremely easy to ruin him. It only took a few short minutes of grinding your hips into his own before you could tell he was getting a little close to his release.

“Is this all it takes for you to get off? That’s a little pathetic.” The humiliating words only made Spencer’s moans louder though at this point they had devolved into high pitched pitiful whimpers. You were glad he was keen on the idea of some light humiliation and decided to continue with some more harsh words, “I haven’t even gotten a chance to use it anywhere near any more exciting places yet. You’re so needy, Spencer.” The evil smirk that made its way onto your face at the thought of getting to use the razor in more, exhilarating places, made Spencer visibly gulp hard.

You shifted a little forward which brought more pleasure to you, enough to push you to teeter on the edge. As you felt your release begin to wash over you surged forward to mark up Spencer’s neck with a hickey to go along with the other slight mark you had left. The rocking of your hips sped up as you worked yourself through your blissful release. Spencer may have been one of the most infuriating people you knew, but you couldn’t deny that even with a few swirls of your hips together he gave you a stronger orgasm then most men ever had. After a few gasps of your breath into his neck after your release you began to focus on his own. You could just leave him hanging and force him to take a cold shower to alleviate the straining in his pants, though you couldn’t deny how good he had been for you.

“Beg me. Beg me to let you finish.” Carding your fingers through his hair once more you yanked hard so you could get to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous neck again. You brought the razor up to rest at the underside of his jaw close to the previous cut you had accidentally given him.

“Please!” Even though his begging was only one word, you were satisfied with how desperate he sounded for you. You had completely ruined him without even taking off a single article of clothing.

“Cum for me Spencer.” As soon as the words of permission fell from your lips, his hips started to meet yours with more vigor. His groans came impossibly louder as he neared his finish, so you surged forward to capture his lips with your own for the first time. Immediately you slipped your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, swallowing all of the noises that tried to escape. He rocked his hips forward once, twice, three times before feeling the front of his slacks dampen with his own release.

When you had both calmed down and slightly processed what you had both indulged in you separated from him to help clean up the nick on his jaw and to grab him a pair of sweatpants to change into. You returned to help him finish shaving making sure to leave the little bit of scruff you liked. As you finished he moved to rub slight circles into your hip, you didn’t let him do it for very long until you made sure that it wasn’t hurting his hands too much. You were both extremely content with your current position. Maybe he wasn’t as infuriating as you once thought. In any case you had enjoyed lending him your helping hands, maybe you could help him again if he was willing.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Spencer Reid/CM taglist- @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Sub!Spencer taglist- @thatsonezesty13- tags are not working for you for some reason!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #750 follower celebration #750 followers

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