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#i just want a trace on here in case i'm
this-is-krikkit · 10 months
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ok so ive seen 2 episodes and if i'm getting the vibe right, good omens season 2 is basically just a fanfic on screen? idk how it ends but it better fucking be best friends to lovers
or you know. some MORE queerbaiting, whatever. i'm used to that 🙃🙃
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morphone · 2 years
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#... Worst case scenario‚ if this doesn't work?#Truly?#I can almost guarantee that my body cannot handle much more of what I'm doing to it.#Might not be as painless as what I'm doing now - where... endless opioids‚ sedatives‚ and other pain killers+alcohol+depressants are.#Very. very available.#But. Ultimately?#With how poor my health is... and how much abuse I put it through.#There isn't much time left‚ I don't think.#I just. I'm tired‚ y'know? God... I am tired. So... so‚ so very tired.#More than anything. With how. Truly alone I am. With how I've never experienced... warmth. happiness. joy.#The pain of declining health is worth the fact that I can finally escape this shit.#I don't like to. Be Vulnerable. to vent in this way.#But... more than anything? I. I really... want to leave behind traces of my shitty existence. I want some piece of me to remain online‚—#— after I die. That. somewhere‚ in the history of Every Tumblr And Vent Post‚ I existed in the data. My words... existed‚ here.#Even after I die. I'll have. some part of me remaining. That. maybe. after I'm dead‚ someone will know that I once existed.#That I lived in isolation. That I turned out this way due to a lifetime of nothing but torture and suffering.#I can't imagine that I'll ever have that happen‚ in reality. I'm aware that I'll be alone‚ even in death‚ for eternity.#But it's a comforting lie that helps. especially when I'm in a situation like this.#When I'm… Alone. When I've lost all hope of anything ever getting even the slightest bit better. The lie of existing in death is comforting.#The lie that. maybe. just maybe‚ in death‚ I'll have. someone. someone in this world think of me‚ when I'm decaying endlessly.#It's a harmless lie.#I'm alone. I will always be alone. I will never escape this solitude unless I finally die and there will never be a soul that knew of this—#shit life.#Hilarious. hilarious how such atrocities that have been committed against this body go unpunished while I decay and decay and decay.#Very very very very funny. very funny.
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phantomrose96 · 3 months
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The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.
I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.
What is AI? And what is not AI?
So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.
A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)
An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.
A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.
Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)
So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:
"AI" which is just genuinely not AI
There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.
Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"
2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now
"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.
The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.
Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.
3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")
If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).
This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.
This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.
(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)
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kleftiko · 8 months
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❦ CHERRY SMOKE CLOUDS
“upon learning that your new plug is a virgin, you come up with a new way to pay for your weed”
cw: slight dubcon (sex under the influence), virginity loss (choso), car sex, corruption kink, unprotected sex, blowjobs
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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You met Choso through your little sister's friend.
Without knowing Megumi and Yuji were over, you started ranting to Nobara about how your plug was moving across the country, and it was a travesty. When she gave you edibles, she packed them in cute little heart baggies, and you were never gonna find another one as good as her.
It wasn't until you turned the corner that you saw her and her two friends lounging on the couch.
Luckily, Yuji spoke up, telling you his brother grows and you could get from him.
That got you his number, and having known Yuji, you expected his brother to be a much more enthusiastic texter. You hardly expected one- to two-word responses, absolutely no emojis, and a period at the end of a sentence.
But if it got you what you wanted, you were fine with that.
Most transactions were made through Yuji or Nobara, and despite the lack of customer service that you got from your old plug, his stuff was good, so you couldn't complain.
Then, one day, Yuji messaged you, saying he was having a party at his place and you should come meet his brother. You didn't see why not, so you and Nobara got dressed up together and went.
It was unsurprising that there were a lot of people—Yuji loved making friends, after all—so it took a minute to find him. But he had a wide smile when he saw you two, giving you hugs and telling you his brother was in the garage.
You didn't have to excuse yourself cause your sister was already gone by the time you turned back, so you made your way to the garage.
Inside, there was only one person. A taller man with longer hair who was taking stuff out of the trunk of a car, and when he turned to you, you noticed his tired eyes looking at you. He was cute.
"What?" He asked.
"Choso?" You asked, and he nodded. You smiled a bit and said, "Y/N."
A look of recognition flashed across his face.
"Yuji told me you'd be coming." He then lifted the box in his arms slightly, as if to show you the alcohol. "Leave it to my brother to think a six-pack would be enough for a party."
You couldn't help the amused hum that passed your lips as your gaze traced the strained muscles in his arms.
"Want some help?"
After the two of you brought in a couple cases of liquor, you followed him back to the garage. Besides your sister and her friends, you didn't know anyone, and you figured at least Choso would have some weed on him if nothing else.
He leaned against his car and fished a lighter out of his pocket before looking at you and holding it up as an invitation. You smiled and moved to stand in front of him as he took out a case from his other pocket, placing the joint from inside between his lips.
"You don't wanna hang out with your brother?" You asked as he lit it.
Choso just raised an eyebrow at you, blowing out the smoke slowly and drawing your eyes to his lips.
"You don't wanna hang out with your sister?" He retaliated casually, holding out the blunt for you.
With a couple puffs of your own, you shift your weight onto your other leg. Choso's soft gaze stays on you, waiting for you to continue.
"Why smoke out here?" You asked, and he shrugged.
"Not a fan of people." He explained, and you gave him a look. He shakes his head, "don't make it seem like I'm a loner; I just don't wanna hang out with my younger brother's friends."
"Not a fan of younger people?" You don't give him time to answer before you say, "pretty sure I'm younger than you."
"You're fine." It's casual in the way he says it, but it does something to you, and you end up shifting again when he hands you the blunt.
His eyes flicked down to your legs, taking notice of your movement. "Wanna sit?"
Choso patted the hood of the car beside him as an offer, and you looked at his fingers sitting on top of the metal. They were long and lanky, with prominent veins running through his hand and up his arm. It led you back to his face, which is waiting for your answer.
So you hopped on top of the hood, taking one more puff than is courteous, but Choso didn't say anything as he took it back.
It was a couple minutes of silence; the two of you smoked until it was just the filter, and Choso threw it away. You started to feel the familiar feeling of your head becoming heavier—or, you were just more aware of the weight of it—and you sank back onto your hands with contentment.
"So, were you just here for the weed?" Choso's voice was pretty monotone, but you could tell he was making a joke.
A small giggle escaped your lips as you noticed the red creeping up in his tired eyes.
"I mean, I won't say no if you wanna share another, but I think hanging out with you is fine by itself." You admitted, and he shook his head at you.
A couple blinks was all it took to remind you that he really did grow some good shit, and you grabbed the bottom of his shirt to tell him the compliment when you looked up at his face and forgot your train of thought.
Instead, you tugged on his shirt and coaxed him to stand in front of you as you tilted your head up at him.
"You don't look like what I thought you would." You drawled out.
"What'd you expect?" He prompted.
You pouted, "pink hair."
Choso let out a soft chuckle, and you almost melted at the sight of his smile. Unintentionally, you leaned closer to him, your eyes focused on the bridge of his nose, where you noticed a faint scar that ran across it. With your noses almost touching, you looked up into his eyes, admiring the way they locked onto you.
"You're hotter than I thought." You mumbled, and his eyebrows raised slightly.
Choso pulled back.
"If you think this'll get you free stuff, you're outta luck."
You giggled and let go of his shirt, leaning back onto your hands with a lazy smile.
"I'd tell you that even if you weren't my plug." You said. "Though, I'm sure a lot of your customers offer favours instead of money."
Once again, he shook his head at you, his smile mirroring yours. You let your head fall back, feeling the stretch in your neck as you stared at the ceiling.
"Wouldn't blame you, sex while high is incredible."
"I wouldn't know." He said and you snapped your head at him.
"You've never had sex after smoking?"
He raised an eyebrow at you, and you understand what he was saying.
"You've never had sex?" You clarified, and Choso shakes his head in agreement, unbothered by it.
"Never had the time." He explained, and at the back of your clouded mind, you recalled Nobara mentioning that Yuji was raised by his older brother.
You slid off the car, standing toe to toe with Choso as you looked up at him. He didn't move, and you could smell his cologne and soft hints of weed.
"Do you wanna know what it's like?" You whispered, gazing up at him through your lashes.
The thought that you could give this man everything made that small pulse of arousal that's been sitting between your legs light on fire. As you stared into Choso's eyes, a mischievous smile played on your lips. The anticipation of what you could do with him sent a rush of excitement through your body.
Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Choso bent down and attached his lips to yours.
He tasted smokey, but it didn't bother you as you brought your hands up into his messy hair. His large hands travelled down your sides and roughly pulled you closer to him. Your knee bumped between his legs, and he uttered a deep moan into your mouth.
Detaching yourself from him, you grabbed his shirt and tugged him to switch places with him, pushing his legs into the hood of his car and forcing him to sit atop it.
Your hands then moved to his jeans as you kissed him again, undoing the button and zipper as you bit his lips. Choso let out a little whine, shakey fingers grasping at your own shirt when you stuck your hand down his pants and cupped his half-hard cock. As you stroked him, you scattered kisses and bites down his neck and along his jaw, leaving nothing to catch the hisses he let out of his mouth in response to your attack. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as his breathing grew heavier. The intensity of the moment heightened as you whispered in his ear, teasing him with promises of what was to come.
Then you sank your knees onto the concrete floor between his legs, pulling down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his cock and balls, your mouth watering at the size.
As you looked up into his eyes, you gently licked his red tip and watched him shut his eyes in pleasure, his hand coming to the top of your head. Then you took him to the back of your throat, eliciting a loud and wanton moan from the man above you. Despite slapping his other hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, you felt a shiver at the noise, knowing that you were driving him wild with something so simple. With each movement of your mouth, you could feel his grip on your hair tighten, urging you to go deeper. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you lost yourself in the intoxicating pleasure of giving him ecstasy. His dick was slobbered with your spit, and besides the faint music coming from the house, the garage was filled with the disgusting sounds of you slurping and choking on his cock and Choso's beautiful stuttering noises of bliss.
Your eyes rolled back at the taste of him; the salty precum and weight of his dick on your tongue had you rocking your neglected pussy into your heel. When his moans and whimpers started to catch at the back of his throat, you cupped his heavy balls in your hands, gently massaging them as you continued to pleasure him. The intensity of the moment heightened as you felt his body tense and his breathing become more erratic, signalling that he was about to cum. With a mischievous smile, you increased the speed and pressure of your movements, determined to push him over the edge and make him lose control completely.
The grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking uncontrollably against your touch. The raw desire in his eyes fueled your own excitement, and you revelled in the power you had over him in the moment. As he finally reached his climax, you continued to stroke him through his release, savouring the feeling of his pulse against your tongue and his cum running down your throat.
His tired eyes were glazed with lust when you popped him out and stood up. His chest was breathing heavily, but that didn't stop him from grabbing your face and pulling you into a searing kiss, licking up the drops of his cum that slipped from your lips. You moaned at his eagerness to clean his own grime from your face and ran your hands down his clothed body, fingernails scraping along his muscles as they twitched.
"Please," He begged between kisses. "Please fuck me."
You pulled away, looking at the man in front of you with hunger.
"Back seat." You commanded, and Choso listened to you.
The two of you stumbled to the car, pawing at each other as you removed your clothes. By the time you shut the door behind you, the two of you were in your underwear. Choso was hard once again as you mounted him.
Taking off your bra, his eyes locked onto your tits before eagerly going for them with his mouth. but you grabbed his hair and pulled him back. He nearly whimpered at the denial, but you were firm.
"I need to see your face when I take your virginity, baby." You told him.
Choso nodded his head and helped you two rid yourself of the last bit of clothing. Grabbing his cock, you lined it up with your soaking lips as Choso's fingers fluttered over your hips in anticipation. You looked at him, only to find his watery eyes locked on your pussy as he swallowed harshly. You were sure that if you led him on any longer, he would start crying.
"Choso," your sweet voice cooed.
When he locked eyes with yours, you sheathed yourself over his cock, watching firsthand as his mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled back as a broken moan pushed past his lips. It was filthy and erotic, and it made you lift your hips and slam back down onto him just to see his reaction again. His body trembled beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him. The intensity of the moment fueled your own desire, igniting a primal need to dominate and explore every inch of his body.
"That feel good, baby?" You asked, knowing he couldn't answer. "Feel good to get fucked in the back of your car?"
Choso whimpered.
You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, as you whispered, "You love being used like this for your first time, don't you?"
The sound of his desperate moans only fueled your attack further, pushing you to take him even harder.
"Your cock feels so good inside me, Choso." You continued to enjoy his reactive body. "so big, I don't think I can just fuck you once."
In his first bout of control, Choso grabbed the back of your head and shut you up with a kiss, hips lifting against yours in desperation.
"So fucking perfect." He managed to huff out, and you rewarded him with a squeeze of your pussy, making him lose the rhythm of his thrusts. The intensity of the moment heightened as Choso's grip tightened on your head, his kiss silencing your words. With each desperate thrust of his hips, he struggled to maintain the little bit of control he had.
He managed to gasp, overcome with the pleasure you were giving him, "You're absolutely incredible." The squeeze of your pussy caused him to lose his rhythm, further intensifying the passion between you.
You smiled wickedly and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"Yea?" You asked. "Wanna cum inside me?"
It was as if a switch had been flipped. His eyes darkened with desire, and a primal growl escaped his lips. Without hesitation, he grasped your hips firmly and increased the pace, thrusting into you with an urgency that matched your own. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and you let out your own noises of pleasure at Choso's actions.
Feeling your climax near, you dug your nails into his bare chest, urging him on. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you reached the peak of pleasure together, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy. Spurts of his cum painted the inside of you, making you moan at the feeling before collapsing against him, sweaty bodies entangling. For a long moment, heavy breathing was the only sound in the hot car. As the air slowly cooled, you both basked in the afterglow.
With a satisfied smile, Choso gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and whispered, "That was incredible."
You breathed out a laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and cuddling into him.
"Yea," you agreed. "We need to smoke together more often."
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fangswbenefits · 4 months
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Trance
Summary: Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Cockwarming. Body worship. Sub Astarion (if you squint). Breast play. Precum.
Word count: 2.1k
Astarion was restless.
You could see it clearly from the way he was pacing near his tent, not once stepping inside.
It was odd and unusual even though elves were known to only need a few hours of trancing to replenish their vigour.
Still, you figured maybe you should intervene.
“Astarion?”
You made sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you from across the camp without sounding too alarm to wake the others.
It was enough to stir his attention, and he stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, before rounding the campfire, as he made his way towards you.
He looked positively drained when you crawled out through the opening of your tent, sitting on the carpeted floor.
“You look awful.”
He scoffed. “I'm quite sure I look far better than you, darling.”
You smiled warmly, knowing fully well it was just his automatic response to being teased.
“Well, what is it? Did you call me here to gawk?”
Astarion had this terrible habit of behaving like a temperamental cat that would make it everyone's problem if any minor inconvenience was thrown at them.
“You can't trace, can you?”
He crossed his arms. “I'm fine.”
Your smile parted your lips. “No need to get defensive, you big cat.”
That disarmed him only slightly.
He dropped his arms, but now held a deep scowl on his handsome face. “I fail to see how you can help out.”
The nature of your relationship with Astarion had longed moved from being merely a forced partnership between two strangers.
He had bedded you more than once and had poured his heart out even against his better judgement.
If there was someone who could help him out, it was you.
Lovers helped each other in various ways.
And he knew it, but his pride and reluctance to show vulnerability often got in the way.
Luckily for him, you had an idea of what could be useful in this case.
You stared down at your shirt and began to undo the top buttons in a very nonchalant way.
Astarion immediately rushed to you, crouching. “What are you doing?”
“This has helped before, right?”
His eyes widened at your silent proposal, but he didn't deny it. How could he? He adored your breasts way too much to turn away such an invitation.
“Are you offering to do it here, though?” he asked with an amused click of his tongue. “I didn't peg you for the exhibitionist type, darling.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks from his cheeky taunt, and you stopped halfway, realising it was enough to offer him a decent view of your chest.
And just like clockwork, Astarion's smugness began to slip as his lips parted in defeat.
It was rather easy to fully disarm him this way.
As such, you rose to your feet and walked back inside with him hurriedly following you, as you untied the strings that held the flaps apart.
You were covered when it came to visual privacy, but the two of you were known to get quite loud at times.
As you sat down on your bedroll, you tilted your head, gaze landing on his lower half.
“Maybe you should undo them.”
He glanced down. “Right.”
Honestly, he didn't have much of a choice. He always got too hard from this, and you wanted to pre-emptively ensure he was as comfortable as possible.
You watched as he tugged at the lacing of his trousers, making room for his cock to grow and thicken freely.
The entire act could be regarded as you merely taking care of him in time of need. 
Its foundation wasn't inherently sexual.
However…
 … it was rather difficult to ignore the rising throb in between your legs.
As much as he adored suckling on your nipples, your yearning for him nearly matched his adoration.
You moved to lay on your side, allowing your breasts to spill out from the shirt, nipples already hardening from the shift in temperature and state of arousal.
In the dark, you were able to spot his crimson eyes glinting briefly as he took the place next to you.
For a few seconds, you simply gaze into each other's eyes in silence.
He was visibly tired.
He needed to trance.
He needed to find comfort.
He needed you.
“Is there something troubling you?” you asked softly.
He snickered. “Besides the worm swimming about in my head?”
You nodded as he shifted closer to you, his cool hand at your hip.
You shivered.
But it was the good kind of shivers.
The type to swell your clit and quicken your heartbeat.
“Darling, we'd be up all night, and I really need the rest.”
Fair enough.
Some forms of distress were better handled this way.
You almost gasped as his hand moved to one breast, caressing the hardened nipple.
“Do you want me pressed up against you?”
Your heart skipped a beat and you pressed your thighs together in reflex.
Gods.
“Do you want to?” you retorted before your voice could crack under the weight of impeding lust.
He shifted even closer, as he squeezed your breast softly im a silent warning.
“I asked you a question.”
It wouldn't take long for you to soak through your undergarments and trousers.
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Astarion adored having you use your words to fuel his own arousal.
“Yes… I think I prefer it.”
This time, you did gasp when he began tracing circles around your nipple with the pad of his thumb.
“And why is that, my sweet?”
He was relentless and you were too transfixed to fight back.
“I enjoy how it feels…” you whispered.
His crotch was now too close to your own and you could feel your clit pulsing evenly from his taunting words.
“And what is it that you enjoy?”
You swallowed, pushing your hips into him. “I enjoy feeling you getting harder and harder…”
And Astarion groaned.
“You're too much of a tease,” he said before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You'd have me unravel with just words.”
You chuckled through the heavy haze of lust that pooled in your throat. “Likewise.”
He was already hardening against you. You could feel his cock twitch and you could tell he was fighting back the primal urge to roll his hips.
But now wasn't the time.
He needed something else.
His agile fingers kept teasing your nipple, drawing soft whimpers from you.
“I wonder how swollen your clit is for me,” he teased.
But before he could continue, you clicked your tongue. “You talk too much.”
And you moved until you were able to line your breast with his mouth.
His hand immediately dropped and you seized the moment to shove your nipple against his lips, which he promptly parted, welcoming it inside his mouth.
And then he latched beautifully around it..
The most effective way to silence Astarion was to keep his mouth busy.
Your back arched reflexively, as he began to suckle eagerly, hips still flushed against you.
It was hard to keep your thoughts straight from the sight of him hollowing his cheeks with each tug.
You raked your fingers along his soft curls, silently praising him.
His eyes fluttered shut and with an instinctive roll of his hips, you realised just how hard he already was.
It was almost embarrassing how soaked your were for him and how much your body yearned for his cock to be buried deep inside you.
“You're such a good boy…” you found yourself saying before you could think twice.
Astarion was addicted to praise, especially when it came from you.
So, naturally, he moaned in approval.
He looked positively ethereal from this position, completely drunk in you as comfort took over.
But he suddenly pulled away, half-hooded eyes meeting yours. “Call me that again. Please.”
He sounded… desperate.
Oh? This was new.
“And why is that?” you feigned ignorance, caressing his scalp.
He didn't enjoy having his own method of seduction being turned on him, but he was the needy one in this situation.
And so he begged.
“Please… it felt good.”
His twitching cock was proof enough of it.
You glanced at your nipple that was now swollen from his suckling.
“Come here,” you cooed, guiding it into his mouth once again, “and be a good boy.”
“Gods above…” he growled before latching, his hand snaking behing your back and pulling you harder against him.
At this point, you were beginning to wonder if his need to rest hadn't been shoved to the back of his mind.
He seemed way too alert for someone who intended on trancing.
But the answer came soon enough when he let go of your nipple once more.
“Turn around.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
There was hunger in his eyes. “I need to be inside you.”
It seemed that his submission had been short-lived, and he was once again taking control.
“Are you sure? You ought to rest,” you said, biting your lip and trying your best to ignore the gush of wetness that spilled from you as you clenched.
“I will rest once I'm inside you.”
He seemed determined enough with a sliver of despair dripping from his voice.
You weren't sure this would have the desired effect he sought, but you longed to be filled with him.
Dexterity was what he excelled at, and he swiftly helped you out of your trousers, baring you fully to his gaze.
You could feel your wetness coating your folds as your clit peeked between them, throbbing rhythmically.
A whimper escaped your throat.
A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers parted your folds, so he could stare in awe at how swollen your clit was.
He licked his lips.
“Turn around, darling. Allow me to feel just how warm and wet you are.”
You clenched before doing what you were told, rolling on your other side.
The cool tip of his cock nudged against your backside, smearing precum as he adjusted his position.
You arched into him, parting your legs just enough and bracing yourself for how you'd be struggling at first, even though you were drenched. 
His hand you leg high enough for him to be able to angle himself at your entrance.
You bit your lip and fisted the blanket under you.
His lips were at your ear. “I'll go slow.”
Well, he had to.
There was no other–
He rolled his hips and the tip began to stretch you, causing any coherent thoughts to be put on hold.
Gods… why does he have to be so thick…
“Clenching won't help… you know this by now,” he groaned in your ear, struggling to push along your tightening walls.
You couldn't help but to clench.
It was your own body's way of setting the pace.
“Let me sink fully into you.”
You moaned as he went on, and you placed your hand in between your legs, fingers finding his cock just so you could feel how much it was left for him to slide inside. 
He chuckled. “You adore doing that, don't you? Feeling how hard I am for you as you take me.”
You mewled a reply, keeping yourself from clenching as he sank until you felt his heavy balls against the tips of your fingers.
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as stilled.
“Such a good girl.” he praised, planting a kiss below your ear.
You caressed his balls, the motion causing the heel of your hand to rub against your clit.
You shuddered as he growled.
The difference in temperature would soon be forgotten as your heat enveloped his cock.
But Astarion had seemingly stilled for good.
He let go of your leg, allowing you to press your thighs together, as he wrapped his arm around you, hand settling in between your heaving breasts.
“Are you sure you can trance like this?” you asked, removing your own hand from between your legs.
His lips moved to the side of your neck. “I've been meaning to try this for too long. You're so warm… so tight…”
You clenched involuntarily around him.
“I know you crave my seed, but we should rest,” he said, sounding quite drowsy.
You wanted nothing more than to be filled to the brim with his cum, but that would have to wait.
The clenches were now sparse and far in between as you got used to the prospect of falling asleep with his cock stuffed inside you.
He was probably leaking insane amounts of precum, and that did put a smile on your face.
His cock twitched a few times more, before fully stilling, but as hard as ever.
“Astarion?” you whispered.
His head had slumped behind yours, and he seemed to have drifted off into the early beginnings of his trance.
Your clit was still swollen and begging for attention, but you were willing to sacrifice that if it meant falling asleep this way.
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Masterlist
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reiderwriter · 3 days
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🔐 Password Protected 🔐
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.
A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 
The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.
“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 
“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 
“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 
The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 
“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”
You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 
It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 
“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 
“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 
“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 
“Only because you know you're wrong.” 
They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 
“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 
His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 
You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.
Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 
When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 
“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 
“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 
He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 
Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 
“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 
You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 
“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 
“Yes?” 
“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 
You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 
“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 
“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 
“Where are your manners?” 
“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 
He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 
Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 
Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 
“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.
“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 
“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 
He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 
“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 
“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 
Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 
As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 
“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 
“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 
You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 
This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 
How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 
In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 
“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 
“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 
“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 
“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 
You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 
“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 
Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 
Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 
What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 
You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 
Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 
“Spencer, wh-” 
“Watch and see, princess.” 
The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 
If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 
Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 
You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 
“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 
You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 
“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 
You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 
Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 
“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 
His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 
“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 
“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 
“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 
868 notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
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i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home
Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut. 
For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you. 
You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed. 
He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes. 
Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck. 
He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…
Are you waiting for him? 
Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job. 
First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us 
Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be. 
Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book. 
But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home— 
All these reasons. 
He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? 
You’re already awake. 
Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch. 
“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?” 
You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.” 
“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?” 
“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?” 
Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.” 
You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.” 
Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly. 
You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”
He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.” 
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missmonstermel · 6 months
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Just a friendly reminder that if you see my often used Krampus design in the wild uncredited to please be super chill when calling it out! It is usually a case of people thinking it is a vintage copyright free clip art piece and being kind about it helps me have a more successful, pleasant encounter. I modeled this illustration to look like an old Gruss Vom Krampus postcard and I guess it is a little too successful.
Now I don't want to make an excuse for the folks tracing the piece without acknowledging the source but a lot of non artists slap it on stuff and are most likely under the impression it is not a modern illustration. It’s been around since 2009 and used to be a source of anxiety seeing it used so much around this time of year but it's something I have made peace with ( also I'm just very tired lol) Looking back, most people who did accidentally use it ended up being decent and pleasant to deal with so that's pretty cool....
I’m glad that it’s seemed to have have a lot of influence on Krampus depictions and has sort of snuck into being accepted as this authentic antique artwork. It would be nice to see my name attached to all of the posts that use him but much like many other online artists, sometimes a dumb thing you made just gets out from under you and fighting it is like fighting the sea. A sea of clippty cloppity, long tongued naughty goat men! Anyway if you want me to get paid for this illustration you can buy the shirt here: https://shirt.woot.com/offers/greetings-from-krampus
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cutielando · 6 months
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stay with me ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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"Don't come home"
Those words were echoing in Rafe's mind as he walked by the side of the road towards your house.
He had never seen eye to eye with his father, but he didn't think things would get so out of hand as to get himself kicked out.
He put his hand in his back pocket and took out his phone, smiling a little at the photo on his screen. It was one of the two of you at Midsummers, embracing each other and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.
He scrolled down until he found your contact and pressed his phone against his ear, praying that you would still be awake.
"Babe?" you answered the phone, making Rafe let out a sigh of relief.
"It's so good to hear your voice, baby" he exclaimed, tears clouding his eyes.
He tried hard not to break down over the phone, but it was getting harder and harder.
"What's wrong, babe? Is everything okay?" you knew he wouldn't call this late unless something happened.
"I'm 5 minutes away from your house? Can I stay the night?" his voice was shaky, but he prayed that you didn't question him on it.
"Of course you can. I'll make you something to eat"
"Thank you. I love you"
"I love you too, bub"
He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket before holding his head in his hands.
Hearing your voice was all he needed in that moment. He needed to hear that you were still there with him, that you didn't turn your back on him like his father just did not even an hour before.
Rafe snapped out of his daze only when he found himself standing in front of your house, seeing the light on in your bedroom and kitchen.
Before he could even knock on the door you opened it, standing there with the most sympathetic look you could muster.
"Oh, baby. Come here" you said and extended your arms.
Rafe didn't hesitate to step into your warm and familiar embrace, immediately burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
You brought your hand up to his hair while the other traced soothing circles on his back.
"Shh, you're okay now, you're safe with me" you whispered in his ear, making him completely break down.
You could feel him shake as sobs racked through his body, making your heart shatter for the boy in your arms.
You knew it had something to do with his father, it was always the case. However, you didn't push him to talk. You knew that he would tell you everything when he's ready.
After holding each other for a good 10 minutes, his sniffles had subsided and he finally stepped out of your arms, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore" he whispered, avoiding eye contact with you.
You took his face in your arms and looked him right in the eyes.
"Never apologize for being vulnerable around me. It's not something to be ashamed of"
He bit his lip but nodded, leaning down and pecking your lips.
"Can we go eat? I haven't had anything since yesterday night" he whispered, making you smile and take his hand.
You lead him into your kitchen where you prepared warm sandwiches for both of you, knowing how much Rafe liked them.
He groaned at the sight and immediately dove in, making you chuckle and kiss his head.
You took a seat next to him and started eating silently, watching him intently.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" you asked softly once he finished eating.
He sighed and hung his head low.
"We got into an argument, I don't even remember what it was about. We both said some things, but I guess he just didn't want to bother anymore so he told me to leave and never come back home" he explained, his eyes welling up with tears once again.
"Oh, baby" you got up and enveloped him in your arms, rubbing his back.
He sniffled and buried his head in your chest, holding you tightly to his body.
You knew from the beginning what a piece of shit Ward Cameron was, but you never expected him to kick out his own son. That was low, even for him.
"You're going to stay here with me. My parents already love you and they know how your situation is. They will love having you around all the time" you said as you pulled away and held the sides of his face.
"I don't want to intrude and be a bother" 
"You're not intruding on anything. If anything, you're bringing some light in this house. It's boring when my parents are at work, you're going to save me from boredom. Plus, we get to spend every minute with each other, so that's just another bonus" you explained, smiling when you noticed his eyes twinkling and his lips curve into a small smile.
"You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, baby" he leaned up and pecked your lips, making you smile against his lips.
"I'm going to head over to your house tomorrow and pick up all your clothes and anything else you might need. I don't want you to ever have to step foot in that house again"
"You don't have to do that, I can go and take my stuff by myself" he tried to reason with you, but you were having none of it.
You wouldn't risk another encounter with his father which could very easily turn violent.
"No, I'm going. He's not going to say anything to me because he knows I will not back down"
He sighed but nodded, his expression finally softening.
"I love you. Don't ever forget that" you whispered, rubbing your thumb along his cheek.
"I love you, too. So much"
As your lips met once again, you two were starting a new chapter together. Another part of your story was beginning.
And you couldn't be more grateful.
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stairain · 1 year
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Daddy's Little Helper.
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Spencer wants nothing more than to show his appreciation for you babysitting his daughter, but by giving you a baby of your own was not what you expected. 
Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, age gap (10+), innocence kink, breeding kink, loss of virginity, praise, nicknames, creampie, you want him to get you pregnant.  
WC: 6.3K​​
You were Spencer’s babysitter for his daughter, and it had been a long night for the both of you. Spencer had been out late on a case he knew would take a while, and he was more than grateful you were willing to stay for so long while he was away.
It was almost midnight now, and you were sitting on the couch in his living room after you had put her to bed. You were watching TV and absentmindedly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him to arrive home.
You looked up at the sound of the front door opening, and you immediately recognized the footsteps. You put down your phone immediately, your first thought was to stand up and meet him at the door.
As you watch the door open, you greet a very tired Spencer with a welcoming smile.
“Good evening sir, she’s upstairs sleeping now.”
Spencer smiles at you, putting down his coat on the nearby coat rack and walking towards you. 
“Thank you, you’re an angel.. How did she do tonight?" He replied, stopping directly in front of you, and looking down into your eyes with a warm smile on his face.
You crane your neck up slightly to look up at him and return the smile, nervously. You’d be lying if you said his figure looming over you didn’t intimidate you in the best way possible.
“She was really good, less crying than last time.” You say with a small chuckle. “She missed you a lot, though..”
"Awh, I missed her too." Spencer replied, his smile growing as he reached out to put his hand on your lower back, his thumb subconsciously tracing the outline of your shirt.
"It's always a challenge to leave her with a babysitter, you know? But I'm sure you made it more bearable for her." He added, still with the same smile on his face as he looked down at you.
At his soft touch, your body freezes and a red hot blush covers your face. And you weren’t sure if it was because he was tired, or because of something else, but the way his eyes were hooded and trained on you, it made your mouth run dry.
“Y-Yeah, she seems to really like me.”
Your blush caught Spencer's attention, and it caused his smile to grow even wider. He continued to rest his hand on your lower back, as you two continued to stand in the hallway right next to the stairs.
"Well, she's a smart kid. I'm sure she can tell you're good with her. So I'm very glad that she likes you." He said, before looking up the stairs for a moment. 
"She has good taste." He absentmindedly added, with a chuckle. And he had said it so slyly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t so positively entranced by everything he did. 
Your eyes widened at his words, but you brushed it off.
“I’m sure she’d like any other babysitter the same..” You try to avert your gaze from his face, trying to look everywhere but at him.
The father could tell that you were not telling the truth in the slightest. He chuckled again anyway. 
"I think you’re too hard on yourself. I'm sure she wouldn't like just any babysitter." Spencer said, as he reached a hand up to brush back the hair behind your ear. "I know my daughter wouldn't anyway. So don't sell yourself short." He paused for a moment, and then smiled again.
"You know, you can look at me." He added, with a small laugh. His hand reached out to gently grip your chin, and move your jaw so you were forced to look up at him. 
You nervously chuckled to yourself and your eyes darted back up to meet him, and you gave him a bashful smile.
“I-I guess so.. just happy I can make her happy.”
He nodded.
"She's not the only one that you make happy, you know." He said, with a soft tone to his voice and a warm smile on his face. He looked deep into your eyes as he spoke.
"I'm very happy that you're here." He added, with a small chuckle. "I wouldn't have anyone else taking care of her besides you."
“That’s very kind of you, sir. I’m glad I’m able to help out around here.” 
The atmosphere around the two of you is quiet, and there’s an undistinguished tension between you and him.
Spencer seemed to realize the tension between you two suddenly, and he put his other hand on your waist, his thumbs starting to trace soft circles on your skin. He lowered his face until it was only inches from yours, still smiling softly. 
"How about you forget about the whole babysitter thing now? You can stop calling me sir now." He added, with a hint of a flirtatious tone to his voice.
You huff out a small laugh and flash a smile. You could feel his breath on your skin, even though he wasn’t even that close.
“Just seems like the respectful thing to do, and you, out of all people, deserve it the most.” Your eyes pan up to his, looking into his sultry eyes. 
Spencer smiled even wider at that; he was used to women flirting with him, but you were.. different. 
"Well, in that case... Why don't you come a little bit closer and you can just call me Spencer?" He replied, his tone now openly flirting with you as his hands began to trace lower on your body, now resting on your hips.
Your breath hitches and you swallow before stepping once towards him. Your eyes frantically darted all over his face and even around the room, your nerves running wild as he stared down at you as if you were his prey.
Spencer leaned in closer, his face less than inches from yours now. He looked deep into your eyes, his own heart beating a little faster now as he looked over your features. He wanted to touch you... he wanted to kiss you... but he wanted to make sure this was what you wanted too. 
"Can I?" He asked quietly, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper now. He had an idea of what you would answer, but he wanted you to say it yourself.
You felt yourself get backed up onto the wall of the hallway as he pressed himself closer to you. 
“C-Can you what, sir?”
"Can I.. kiss you?" Spencer said quietly, as he leaned in a little closer now. He put his hand up to rest on your cheek, his fingers gently running over it as he placed his other hand on your shoulder. His face was only inches from yours at this point, and his eyes were only on your lips as he waited patiently for you to answer
You swallow and your eyes shine with adoration for the older man. You find yourself nodding, giving him the confirmation he so desperately wanted.
He smiled softly at your answer, before leaning in even closer, his forehead now touching yours as he looked deep into your eyes once again. He moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips softly touched yours. His lips pressed against yours slowly, passionately, as he kissed you... a light, soft kiss at first, before his tongue parted your lips a little and he began to kiss you a little more passionately now. It was obvious how much he wanted this.
A soft moan spills from your mouth at the way he touched you, you felt your back pressed harder against the wall as he pushed himself closer to you.
Spencer moaned quietly back, a soft sound of desire and pleasure escaping his lips as he put more of his weight on you. He pulled away for a second, looking down into your eyes as he gently brushed the hair back off your face.
"Is this okay?" He asked, wanting you to feel fully comfortable with this, but at the same time, not wanting to stop. It felt too good.
You nod in his hold and lick over your lip, biting at it as you look up at him with wide eyes. 
“Yes.. Sir.”
Spencer smiled at your answer before he continued to kiss you again, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth as he kissed you with force, his throat making a series of soft noises as his lips touched yours over and over again.
His hands were on your body the whole time; his hands moved from your back to just below your hips, as one of them began to drift under your shirt and began to trace over your skin, his long fingers drawing lazy, soft circles on your rib cage.
Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his fingers on your skin, it sent a shiver up your spine and made you tremble in his strong hold.
"You feel so good.." Spencer said quietly as he continued to kiss you, his tongue touching yours once again. 
"You are so beautiful, angel.." Spencer added, before kissing you again. His other hand started to inch under your shirt, tracing up your skin, moving further and further up.
Your eyes roll back into your head at the sensation and you sigh in pleasure. “T-Thank you.. Spence..”
He smiled before beginning to kiss your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone with his tongue. His hand slowly continued to inch up your shirt, his fingers resting just below the line of your bra now.
A land hand splays over the fabric of your cups, and he gives an experimental squeeze to your chest. 
"Does that feel good?" Spencer said softly, his voice breathless and full of desire now.
His tongue left a wet trail on your skin, and you bit your plush lip at his touch on your bra.
“Yes.. Sir.”
He smiled at your answer, before kissing you again as he began to slide your shirt off over your shoulders. 
"Good girl," He mumbled against your lips, before breaking off the kiss.
"Now... turn around," He added, his voice still soft and breathless as he whispered into your ear, as his hands pulled your shirt off of you entirely.
You nod and immediately turn around on the wall so your palms are pressed against it, waiting for his next move.
With a soft chuckle, Spencer began to put his hands on the clasps of your bra, gently moving them under their hooks and pulling your bra off as soon as he got a good enough hold on it.
Once he had your bra fully off, he let it slide to the floor before he stepped closer to you, standing behind you as he leaned down and began to kiss your neck and your shoulders. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass, and your body involuntarily arched back to grind onto his cock. 
His mouth dropped in a low groan as he felt you arch back into his touch, and he continued to kiss your shoulder now, before biting down hard, leaving a mark.
Your face twisted in a look of pure pleasure and a bit of pain at the bite on your shoulder, and you let out a visceral moan. All you wanted to be was good for him. Spencer leaned down closer to you, whispering in your ear. 
"God, you're so good for me," He mumbled softly, taking your ear in his mouth and biting on it lightly. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties at this point, his words doing nothing to help the arousal that was rushing through your body. 
Spencer smiled against your skin as he heard the moans, and he quickly nipped at your skin again. He was being careful not to bite down too hard, but he still liked causing you to feel a little bit of pain with his kisses.
"That's my girl.." Spencer whispered into your ear, leaning his weight on you now as his hands were clamped around your hips. "So beautiful."
You nodded subconsciously at his praise and let him do whatever he wanted to you. He kissed your neck again as he moved his hands up to the waist of your jeans.
"Can I?" His thumb began to run down the front of your jeans, playing with the buttons that adorned the denim.  
"Can I?" He repeated, and you moaned when you felt his large land dip down between your thighs, and grab gently at your clothed cunt. The friction the fabric provided against you, as well as his touch on you had you thinking there was no doubt you were soaking through your pants at this point. 
You rub your thighs together at the feeling of him grabbing you, and stroking over you. You nod with a soft moan. 
"P-Please.."
Spencer smiled at your answer, before he leaned down and picked you up by the waist, hoisting you off of the ground a little as he started walking towards the guest bedroom. He walked past the living room and kicked the door to the bedroom open, before walking towards the bed and laying you down onto it.
The way he lowered you down and splayed you out on the mattress made you feel like a princess, and knew he wouldn’t stop until you truly felt like one. 
"I've been waiting such a long time to do this." He murmured softly as he began to unbutton your jeans.
"How long, sir..?" You moaned out, sinking back into the soft sheets of his bed as you felt him frantically push the buttons through their holes, and yank down your zipper.
"Since the moment I met you," He replied quietly, his focus going entirely on undressing you.
"You're even more perfect than I thought you'd be." Spencer's hands moved down into the sides of the jeans once they were undone, and began to slide them down your legs.
When you were left in only your panties, he reached a hand to lightly rub his thumb over your covered clit, making you gasp in surprise. A shaky hand went to grab Spencer’s hand. 
Spencer smiled at your touch, but squeezed your hand.
"How come you're always so nervous whenever I touch you?" He asked gently. He wanted you to feel relaxed with him.. and he hoped that you would be able to soon.
"Don't be afraid to just relax and enjoy it." He added, giving you a soft, supportive smile as he continued to lightly rub over your sensitive bundle. 
“I-I’ve never…” Your voice trailed off gently, hoping he would get the gist. He was the first person to ever touch you like this, and on top of that, he intimidated you like no other, but you loved it.
Spencer could tell from the comment that you left unspoken that you'd never been this intimate with anyone before.. and the thought had him feeling almost possessive over you.
"I'll go slow, okay?" He replied softly, letting go of your hand and removing his touch from you. "But I need you to trust me."
His soft, comforting tone made you shiver, and you nodded your head the best you could as you laid against the bed, trying your best to relax.
“I trust you, Sir.”
His eyes lit up at your answer, and he smiled gently.
"Good girl." Spencer replied, before leaning in and kissing you passionately, his arms moving around your body as he pulled you up closer to him. His hands snaked around your waist and made you arch in his hold. 
He broke the kiss after a few seconds and looked deep into your eyes again, and you could feel impatient fingers slide underneath the bands of your underwear.
"Now... let's get the rest of your clothes off... I'm very impatient right now." He said with a small chuckle. He sits up between your legs and as his fingers reach down to pull down your panties, your breath gets caught in your throat. 
“W-What’s got you so ri-riled up.. Sir?”
"What's got me so riled up? Well..." Spencer replied quietly, with a hint of a smile on his face. 
"I've been wanting this for so long, princess. Seeing you everyday... and being unable to do all the things that I want to do.. It has been killing me. So I hope you can understand why I wouldn't want to waste a moment more."
You nod and press your legs together to make it easier for him to remove your panties. His desperation made your skin burn, and your panties wet.
Once Spencer had your panties off, he let out a soft, breathless chuckle, his face clearly showing how much he was enjoying himself. Your cunt was glistening in the soft warm light of the lamp on the nightstand.  
“There we go..." He whispered, his voice full of desire now as he let his eyes wander up and down your body. 
"You're so beautiful." He added, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
You could hear the pure adoration in his voice, and it only turned you on more. A shy blush creeped up onto your face at his praise. 
"You're really turning me on here... I just want you so much.." Spencer whispered quietly as he leaned back down to you now, gently biting on your ear as he kissed you softly. His hands moved down to your hips, moving along your bare curves and up your back now.
"You're so perfect." He added softly. His voice showed just how much he meant it. You were just so perfect for him. 
“How much do you want me, sir?” His touch felt intoxicating on your skin, you could feel yourself melting in his hold. 
"More than.. more than you could possibly imagine..." Spencer replied softly, taking your face in his hands. "I want you so bad I can't take it.." He added, his voice breathless with desire. 
“What do you want to do to me..?” Your wide eyes meet his lust clouded ones.
"I want to touch you in more ways than I ever have before.." Spencer replied, his face moving back down to your neck as he began to kiss it again.
"I want to know every part of your body." He added softly. "Every.. beautiful.. inch." Spencer whispered breathily as his hand left your face to start moving down to the curve of your ass, as if he was checking over your body to make sure this was real, to make sure you were really here with him. He seemed to be loving the moment, taking every little detail of this moment in.
As you felt his movements become needier and impatient, you found the smallest bit of courage in you to whimper out. 
“P-Please be gentle, Sir..”
Spencer smiled at your request and nodded slightly.
"I promise to be gentle..." He whispered, the touch of his breath against your skin sending a tingle through your body now. The tip of his tongue moved up to your ear now, and he began to run his tongue around the shell of it in little circles.
"But you've got to understand that I am extremely eager right now.. I want you so bad it hurts, angel.” Spencer said, his voice full of desire as he continued to kiss your neck.
“I-I understand, Sir..” Your shoulder jolts at the feeling of his tongue on your ear, and your skin raises at his words on your skin.
"Good girl..." he replied quietly, before continuing to kiss your neck as he moved down to your shoulders.
"Where... would you like me to start?" Spencer asked softly, his eyes flickering as he looked over your naked body, he had so many plans of his own for you, but this was about you. He’d ruin you later.
“A-Anywhere you want, sir.. You know best.. I want you to take care of me.”
His eyes flashed with a soft, playful smile.
"Well why don't you just lay there and let me take care of you, then, alright?" He whispered into your ear, as his hand began to move down over your base chest. His hands stopped to take your sensitive buds into his fingers, gently twisting them. It made you arch and whimper in a way that almost made his body give out from above you.
"I need to show how much I want you.." Spencer added softly, his voice heavy with passion and the need to protect you.
You nodded and tried to relax your body, feeling all too tense in this moment despite how much you wanted him to.
He smiled as he felt your body relax under his touch, as his hand moved over your breasts.
"Relax... You're perfect. You're perfect for me.. And I'm going to treat you like it." Spencer whispered softly, before his hand began to move down to your stomach.
"Do you like it when I touch you like this?" He asked, as his hand began to reach your lower stomach. "Or does it make you too hot?" He added, his voice still full of desire.
“I-I like it.. I like it a lot, Sir.” You look down to watch his hand slither down your body, and it makes your body fill with arousal.
"Good," The man replied softly, before his hand lowered further.
"How does this feel?" He asks, his voice a little breathless as he begins to move his hand between your legs, his touch just barely ghosting over your pussy. He was incredibly cautious not to do anything that you didn't want, as he wanted to go slow for you. 
You gasped lightly when you felt his fingers tracing over your cunt and you swallowed back a moan that threatened to shake the house.
“Really.. Really good..”
You were already moaning now, and Spencer couldn't help but laugh a little at it. 
"You really are very sensitive, aren't you?" Spencer replied teasingly. His fingers began to run lightly over your folds, gliding easily through your pussy because of how soaked you were, just from a few fleeting touches and sweet words. 
You can’t help the blush that surfaces on your cheeks at the mention of you being sensitive, and you close your eyes as you try not to let his touch distract you.
“I-I’ve nev-never been touched like this before, Sir. M’sorry.”
"It's alright, beautiful.. I'm just.. testing the waters." Spencer replied softly, smiling as he continued to tease you.
"So, are you ready for more.. or should I wait?" He whispered into your ear, his voice still breathless. "After all, if you're this sensitive now.. I can't imagine how it'll be once I finally get to fuck you." He said, before nibbling on your neck a little.
“Keep going, Sir.. I’m ready..” You slowly spread your legs a little wider, his touch taking over your senses. 
Spencer smiled softly as your legs spread a little for him, and he quickly slipped a finger inside of you. He chuckled softly as he felt you moan and clench in response to his touch.
"That's my girl," Spencer replied quietly, with that same playful smile on him as his hands continued to tease your sensitive cunt.
"You're so sensitive down here, baby.." 
You nodded and bit back a moan. 
“Y-Yeah.. Never even.. touched myself b-before..” And you could practically feel the intensity of his smirk now at your words. You were innocent, never touched before, not even by yourself. You were his completely.
His face lit up at the information that you gave him.. he could tell that it was true, just from the way you reacted to even the smallest touches.. But hearing it out loud like that was something else.
Spencer was so incredibly turned on now, straining against the restricting fabric of his own pants, and he couldn't help but be more enthusiastic now.
"Good girl.. I'll make sure that I do everything exactly right for you." He said softly, before kissing you passionately again. "My beautiful, innocent girl.." He whispered, leaning into you now as his lips moved from your neck and his finger plunged deeper inside of you. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel amazing."
His praise made your body shake with pleasure, and fill with intense arousal you’ve never experienced before. You nod at his words, and surrender yourself to his control.
When he withdraws his finger from you, you’re leaning up on your forearms to watch what he was doing next, and your eyes quickly find his hands where they were pushing down his dress pants, eagerly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear. 
He was big. And it didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but it did make your breath pick up and your heart stop. As he pulled down his briefs, you could see the way his heavy length sprung out, bobbing slightly in the warm air between you two.
You bit your lip and a moan died down in your throat at the sight. You don’t know how he’d fit it, but he’d manage, somehow. 
When he was back to leaning over your trembling frame, Spencer's hand began to trail up your thigh again, as his lips pressed sweet kisses on your neck, leaving little red marks each time his teeth bit down.
"I've never been this turned on in my life." Spencer whispered softly, before pulling away from you to look into your eyes. One of his hands reached down to stroke over his dick, and he moaned in your face at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it was by himself. 
"Are you still doing okay?" He added quietly when he regained his control, and grabbed himself by the base of his cock. You could feel the dripping head of it pushing against your sticky folds, and the feeling made you dizzy. 
“Yes, sir..” Was all you could manage, as your needy cunt clenched around nothing. You were practically begging to be filled, despite your earlier nervousness. You knew he’d take care of you. 
Spencer smiled at you and lined himself up the best he could on shaking legs.
"You're so cute..." He whispered softly, as his hips began to move gently forward, making his cock trace lightly over your pussy.
"Just stay still..." He added, looking into your eyes again as his length began to slowly slide into your soaked hole. 
His head dipped down to your shoulder and he let out a loud groan, and the sound alone made you whimper. But aside from his own noises, the feeling of his cock stretching into you made your eyes roll back into your head, it felt too good to be true, and you’re glad you waited for him to be the one to finally fuck you. You threw your head back gently on the bed and let him use you.
"That's it... let me take care of you, love." Spencer said quietly, pushing himself further into you. He wanted to take his time with you, he never wanted you to feel forced into this, and he wanted his every touch to make you feel amazing. 
"Does that feel good, baby?" He whispered softly, as he was fully sheathed into you. The way you pulsed around him, and the way he could see your arousal coating his cock left him breathless, but he had to stay composed, for you. 
“So good, sir..” Your thighs shake and try to close from the overwhelming pleasure, but with him slotted between your legs, it’s an impossible feat. You opt for wrapping your legs around him instead, urging him even deeper into you.
"Good.." Spencer said softly. "Just let it happen.. I know it's a lot right now, but I swear, it's going to feel amazing." 
He added quietly, as he started to shallowly thrust into you, drunk on the way you’re swallowing him up so eagerly, even if this was your first time. You feel so good around him it’s making him dizzy, but you’re not doing any better than he is. 
The sensation is so new, but you’ve never felt anything better. He’s slowly pulling his cock out of you, and then pushing back in, and it’s a rhythm you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of. You give an experimental clench of your cunt around him, and his arms almost give out from above you at the feeling. He sighs and shakes his head. 
"You're an angel." He murmured softly after a few more seconds. "I don't deserve you."
You shake your head the best you can and try not to moan.
“N-No.. I don’t deserve you..”
Spencer smiled softly down you as his the speed of his thrusts begin to pick up, and he starts to fuck into you deeper, harder. His long hair falling down and covering his face. 
"Maybe we just deserve each other.." He offered quietly. "We seem to make each other so happy.." He said softly, before kissing you on the forehead and smiling. 
"Well, you sure didn’t deserve to have to wait this long before a man makes you feel like this."
He added with a slight chuckle, as his cock fucked deeper into you now, pounding into that sweet spot that you didn’t even know existed until now, but with how he was pressing into it so deliciously, it made you shudder and writhe around him.
He was plowing into just the right spot to make you feel so much bliss that you could practically see the stars right in front of you.
Spencer smiled at you as you started to moan and whimper out louder for him, and he couldn't help but enjoy the power of making you feel so good.
"See how good that is?..I knew you'd like it, baby." Spencer said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before panting against it. "I know how to treat you properly.. Don’t I?” 
You couldn’t say anything in reply to him, how could you? The way he was making you feel was like nothing you’ve ever felt, and it was wrecking you.
Spencer smiled softly, as he could tell that you were on a completely different planet right now. He was proud of himself for being the one to cause that reaction in you, and he was clearly loving all the control he had in the situation right now. He wanted to keep you here with him like this at this moment forever.
"Are you enjoying this, honey?" He asked softly, before speeding up the cant of his hips, slapping the skin of his pelvis into the sticky flesh of your pussy and soaked thighs. 
“Y-Yes, sir.. Fuck..” Your body trembles and your head thrashes at his pleasurable touch, and you could feel the coil inside of you wind tighter and tighter, you didn’t know what was happening, all you knew was that it felt so so good.
Spencer laughed, the moment made too perfect to be upset at your wording. 
"You need to watch your language when talking to me.. I mean it." He said teasingly, but he also seemed genuinely amused by the slip.
"But you're enjoying this so much, aren't you? How does it feel... being a little dirty girl with me?" 
The degradation. It was new to you.. This all was, and you feel that you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you did. You always wanted to please him, do good for him, and make him proud.. But yet it felt amazing hearing him call you that in such a condescending tone. 
You shake your head at your slip up and try to push that thought to the side. 
“I-I’m sorry, sir..” You moan out. “Feels so good..”
"I know.. I know, angel.. it's hard to think straight when you feel this good, isn't it?" Spencer teased quietly, his voice full of adoration and cockiness for being the one to make you feel like this.
You nod without another word, and feel your release approaching quickly. Both from the way he was humping into you and also from the condescending yet gentle tone he’s speaking to you with. It was all too much, and yet not enough. You needed him so badly. 
"You're getting so close, aren't you?" Spencer asked teasingly, before adding, "And you know what that means, right?" He asked, his voice going lower and lower as you reached your breaking point.
You shook your head, you’ve never felt this way before, it was overtaking all of your senses. You clenched around him in a panic to somehow halt the quick approaching feeling you were experiencing, and it only served to add onto it. 
“N-No, sir..”
"Well, you're about to find out, beautiful..." Spencer replied softly, before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "You have to trust me now... okay?"
He rammed his length deeper into you now, and made it a point to slam into that sweet spot inside of you everytime he buried himself in you. His own release was approaching, but he needed you to finish first. This was all about you. 
Then, with a final burst of energy, he pressed his cock impossibly deeper inside of you, kissing your cervix with the tip of his dick, as the moment you've been frantically awaiting for seemed finally upon you.
“I- Oh.. Oh my- S-Sir..” You let out a series of moans, whimpers, and whines as you were brought closer and closer to your peak. You had no idea what this feeling was, but you knew you didn’t want it to stop, not now, you were so so close.
"That's it... let it out for me.." Spencer replied quietly as he leaned away from you and grabbed you forcefully by your hips to fuck into you mercilessly, as if you were a doll to him. 
He knew exactly what he was doing to you and wanted you to fully let yourself get carried away in this moment, he had already reached the point of no return, and you could feel it in the way he lifted you from the bed and plowed into you. 
"You're almost there, beautiful..." He moaned softly. "Just one.. big.. release for me.. You can do it, princess."
And with a final, passionate blow to your weeping cunt, you throw your head back in a borderline scream at how good it all felt. Your body felt like it was on fire as you exploded by his touch. Your head thrashed and and your mind was spinning from how good it all felt. Nonstop moans poured from your mouth as you were finally pushed over the edge.
"There we go, baby.." Spencer said quietly as you squeezed around him so tight he could barely move, and it made him so fucking hard. As he watched you shake through your release, he began to fuck into you even harder now, finally able to use your body for everything it was worth as he felt the deep pit in his stomach grow larger and larger with each heavy drag he dealt to your used pussy. 
“God, baby.. So so good..”
His movements became erratic as his own peak was quickly creeping up on him, and he looked up at you with heavy eyes as he felt himself get so lost in the pleasure he could barely hold himself up. 
You looked back down to him and even though you were reaching the point of overstimulation, the feeling of him using you was too good to deny. And you could feel the primal instinct taking over him as he fucked you harder and harder with each passing second, it was getting too much for him, and his head hung against your shoulder as breathy moans left his mouth. 
“W-Wanna give you another, sir. Please.” 
Spencer’s head whipped up to look at you, and his eyes were wider than you’ve ever seen them, it almost made you laugh. You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and bite your lip. 
“W-What..?”
He’s breathless, but his cock doesn’t falter at all inside of you, it only speeds up at the implication in your words. You don’t say anything else, you just nod and stare at him with want and desperation swirling in your eyes. 
“Oh my god.. Oh my god..” 
Spencer repeats over and over as he lets himself go, and grips at your hips in a bruising hold as he shoots ribbons of his heavy load inside of you. Both of your mouths drop in unison at the sensation, and you whimper at the feeling of his scorching cum painting your slick walls. 
“S-Sir..” 
Is all you can grit out, and your fingernails find their way to his back, pulling makeshift daggers down his skin as he continues to smash his length in your aching, soaked hole. His body collapses down against yours, as he jolts and spasms with every spurt of release he dumps into you. 
He’s buried so unbelievably deep inside of you right now, that there was no doubt that you would give him another child. You could already feel his release seeping into you, claiming you as his forever. 
Through heavy pants and on shaking arms, he lifts himself slightly to look at you. The both of you looked positively ruined by the other, and he pressed a light kiss on your sweaty cheek. 
“Y-You.. You’re insane, sweetheart..” 
You breathlessly chuckled at his words, and pulled him back down so he was laying on your chest. Your body was trembling underneath him, and you could feel your slick and his cum leaking out of you onto the bed sheets. With enough consciousness to speak, you softly sigh. 
“Do I at least get to pick the name?”
3K notes · View notes
astrophileous · 7 months
Note
Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹
Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️
Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.
Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.
Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.
"Hey—"
"Are you insane?"
You looked at him dumbfoundedly.
"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"
A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.
"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."
"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.
"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"
"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."
Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"
"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."
Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."
"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"
It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.
Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.
And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.
"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."
"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"
You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.
Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"
Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."
You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"
Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.
With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.
"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"
You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."
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angel-of-the-moons · 8 months
Note
Need Steven with a freak. Let’s say he’s been dating this girl for a while and he’s ready to take it to the next step. He’s super worried he’ll make you all uncomfortable and stuff when he asks but the next thing he know he’s being ridden till the break of dawn
(I’m ovulating I am so sorry-)
OMG SAMESIES AND I. AM. ✨FERAL✨ RN
Please
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Smut, just smut af, protected sex (implant), oral sex (m!receiving) creampie, overstimulation
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: This lil dress here is what I had in mind for the outfit in the start. (I'm a sucker for sunflower patterns)
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🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒
It had to be tonight. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of them could.
But Steven was the worst about his urges. He felt awkward and worried it would chase you away, the first girlfriend he ever got to finally have; all the others didn't understand his... Problems.
Problems he later learned were triggered by Marc (and in some cases, Jake), but you? You took them in stride, like a duck to water.
The moment he first saw you, his breath had been sucked right out of him. Marc and Jake went dead silent, too.
It was a gloomy, dreary day; the rain coming down in heavy droplets, casting a grim light down on the London streets.
But there you were, walking around the museum, looking at exhibits and scribbling notes in your tiny notebook with oh, so many post-its sticking out, fattening the tiny book until it looked close to bursting.
You were the only ray of sunshine on that day, your yellow dress that hugged your body just right, little sunflowers covering the fabric. Your hair done just the right way to accentuate your face as your eyes studied each artifact and bauble you saw.
To say the boys were instantly smitten was an understatement.
It took weeks of bumping into you to work up the courage to talk to you, and it was only when you came in to buy a rather dinky looking scarab plushie in the gift shop. It's this conversation where he finds out you're in school, trying to become an archaeologist and historian.
Steven's dream girl, and he had hearts in his eyes at every word you spoke.
He couldn't help but blubber out a request for a date, and you agreed.
The rest... History in the making.
You'd been dating for two months, but already he could feel the pull of urges he didn't necessarily indulge in often.
Sure, he, Marc and Jake could indulge in it themselves, trying to take the edge off. But sometimes it felt like the more he indulged in it, the more intense his fantasies got.
He simply couldn't keep tugging his cock for momentary relief anymore, imagining it was your soft hand, your mouth, your tits or something else wrapped around his cock that had him practically drooling: your sweet cunt.
But tonight? Tonight was the night. He was afraid to bring it up because he didn't want you to feel like he was moving too fast; and he could barely function when you admitted you were a little surprised he waited so long. (And teased him a little for how sometimes he just wasn't stealthy when trying to conceal a surprise boner.)
You'd told him that you thought about him too, and that you were more than willing to let him indulge.
But it was from there that you found out that Steven had never actually been intimate with anyone. Jake and Marc had, yes. But poor Steven has just never had the luck.
And that's how Steven found himself in this precarious situation, you on your knees, your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock as you bobbed your head so sweetly, tongue laving around his length, hollowing and sucking your cheeks with every drag, tracing the vein that ran up the side of him.
He couldn't stop with the babbling praises, the sweet petting in your hair.
Honestly, if you knew he was this weak? You'd have jumped his bones a lot sooner. Probably after the fourth or fifth date. It was rare you found someone who was intellectually a joy to talk to (not excluding Marc and Jake) who was so handsome and sweet to you.
One hand was thrust down into your panties, playing with yourself, dress hiked up so you could have better access as you continue sucking him off, the lewd sounds coming from both of you more suited to a pornography than the quiet air of his flat.
You could feel your orgasm cresting already, but you knew that you didn't want to just cum on your fingers like you had so many times before, you wanted to feel Steven inside of you and god did you want to drain him for everything he had.
Steven made a whine, babbling your name again.
"L-luv, I'm--I'm gonna--ugh--"
He couldn't even get the sentence out before you felt him spill down your throat, his hips bucking suddenly you gagged, carefully adjusting so you didn't choke as he pumped his load into your greedy mouth.
Well... you weren't surprised he didn't last very long...
He immediately started rattling off apologies that had you giggling.
God damn, you were going to enjoy draining him. Maybe Marc and Jake, too.
The blush that spread up to his ears made him look absolutely adorable.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" He stammered out, covering his face. "In--in your mouth, I--"
With the fluid grace of a cat you climb into his lap, straddling him.
You cup his cheeks and kiss him softly, before pulling away.
"You're alright." You assure him, peppering his adorable face with kisses.
It's when he squeezes your thighs and ruts up into you, his face buried in your neck that you realize he's still hard.
You bite your lip and kiss his ear.
"Steven, do you want me to ride you?"
"Ohgodsyesplease." He breathes out on a whimper.
You hastily line his cock up with your hole and sink down, taking him in inch by delicious inch until you're stretched beautifully around him.
You tip your head back with a groan. He certainly had girth for days, that was for sure.
"I'm... Already close. Can you help me?" You say, giving him a sweet pout that makes his heart jump up into his throat.
"Y-yes, I can--"
The way he keeps cutting himself off makes you want to cuddle him and cover him with kisses, but at the same time fuck him until his legs go numb.
Maybe you'd do the former later.
You pull his fingers into your mouth and he makes a soft moan when you suck his fingers, swirling your tongue around his calloused digits until you deemed them wet enough.
Then, you guide his hand down your body to your throbbing clit, and show him the rhythm that'd work for you best.
"Try to keep it in time with me, m'kay?" You groan, grinding down on him in one slow, languid movement.
His eyes roll back, but he nods and keeps his fingers over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in time with each downward stroke of your hips.
Every bit of him had you aching, from his electric touches to his fat cock spearing you open and fucking your weeping pussy in the best way possible, you kicked yourself mentally again for not bringing up sex sooner.
Steven's cock felt far better inside of you than your fingers or your toys at home. He felt hot, he felt real. And real is what you'd been lacking lately.
Whatever Steven would give you, you planned on taking happily. You would--
Your eyes flutter open when Steven suddenly arches his back and hits you deeper than you expected him to; opening your mouth in a quiet cry, no sound escapes as your orgasm hits you and Steven continues swiping at your clit, fucking you from below as you shudder and collapse on top of him as he continues breathing on the hot embers of your orgasm to keep it going for as long as possible.
"Please." He whines in your ear.
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."
"In-inside--" You whimper, biting down on his shoulder, earning a toe-curling moan from him.
"You can do it inside."
He grits his teeth and let's out a hissing cry, veins popping in his neck and forehead as he fucks his spend up into you, his orgasm burning and flaying his nerves raw as he pumps you full.
He drops back onto the cushions of the couch and sofa, breathing hard, desperately trying to drag oxygen back into his lungs.
Reality however, is a cruel mistress and he looks down at where you two were connected.
"Oh, b-bloody hell. I--I didn't--"
"Relax, hon." You giggle, leaning back with one hand braced on one of his knees for support, your other hand trailing lazily down to where his cock still split you open, his cum leaking out around his length. The sight of you sent a dizzying spiral through him.
"I'm safe, promise. I have an implant. Still good for another three years."
The thought that he could keep doing this for three years--
His mind went blank when you grind down on his lap, feeling his cock stir to life despite the fact he was now exhausted.
"L-luv, I... I don't think I can..." He panted desperately.
Your brace your hands on his chest and start bouncing on his lap, grinning wickedly the whole time.
"I'm gonna keep going until I drain you dry, sweetheart. Get comfortable."
The gulp he made was audible in the space you shared, as was the sinful slap of skin on skin.
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astralis-ortus · 22 days
Text
ways to say 'i love you'
✱ a bang chan headcanon
— an awkward phrase for him, so he resorts to showing his affection instead.
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w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. pure fluff because i miss him :( warnings → very minor cussing (is saying ass includes as cussing?), just very domestic chan thingy a.n → again, i'm in my 'missing chan' hours and writing this at 2 in the morning was hopefully enough to lessen some of that feeling (it was not)(also this is absolutely not proofread)(who has the right mind to proofread at 2am AND after a crying sesh?)
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chan’s a busy man—but it was never a problem for him to make time for you.
be it on the days where his schedules were dictated down to the second, or even worse—when he’s constantly away, for weeks on end, performing in cities where your days were the exact opposites of his nights, he would always make it a point that you know the thought of you never once leaves his mind.
captioned ‘was going on a stroll and came across this park, heh’ as he sent you a picture of him going on a swing, or ‘look at this giant ass churro!! hahah you’d definitely love it here’ when he went to an amusent park with his members on his day off, thousands of miles away from you. your gallery easily surpasses the tens of thousands count, and it’s all from the way chan remembers you in his mundane, everyday life.
chan would also make a connection between you and the small things around him.
his chunky chrome hearts beanie? yeah, it’s the one you said turned him into the wolfchan plushy he gifted you. his earbuds? oh, you stuck a glittery star shaped sticker on the case so you wouldn’t take the wrong one. his laptop? it still made him giggle when he remembered how panicked you were when he told you the thing wouldn’t turn on, only for him to then realize he just forgot to charge it (and he had to appease you from leaving him on read by promising to call as soon as his rehearsal ends).
even when everything is technically his, chan couldn’t help but leave traces of you in his memories of those things—because for him, everything is better with a touch of you in it.
chan loves taking care of you, but he can’t decide if he loves it more when you’re the one taking care of him.
don’t get him wrong—he’d still try very hard to be the dependable one in your relationship. it’s in his blood, he can’t help it... but what power does he have when you adorably said that you’ve been learning on how to take care of his curls, and how you wanted to try the products that just came in the mail earlier in the day. he’d have no choice but to obediently sit between your legs, taking glances of your furrowed brows through the mirror across while your fingers were busy making sure his hair finally turned into the glorious curls you’ve always longed it to be.
if by letting you take care of him made your eyes turn into the brightest constellation of stars he’s ever seen in his life, then he will forever allow you to take care of him.
also, let’s not forget how chan loves his dose of physical touch.
constantly being away never made the trips any easier for him. if any, the periods of actually being with you made it harder for him to ever leave. imagine going from constantly having your gentle body heat around him, to not having them for an extended period of time? lord, chan would give anything just to be able to feel the way your fingers absentmindedly trace figures on his palm while you were reading your books away, like that one night when you stubbornly decided to accompany his all-nighter attempt at his studio.
chan direly needs your touch—he direly needs you.
and after everything you’ve done for him,
after everything you’ve went through,
chan finally realizes that there’s one sure way to let you know that he loves you.
so the next time you sleepily said you think you’re going to bed,
or when you text him a random meme along with an ‘i miss you’  text on a regular thursday evening,
he’d make sure he didn’t forget to tell you the line
“i love you.”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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uranometrias · 2 months
Text
✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader
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pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader
summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.
content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.
read part two here
“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.
Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.
The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.
"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.
"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.
"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.
"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.
"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.
"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.
You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.
"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.
"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.
"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.
He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.
"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.
"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.
True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.
"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.
If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.
"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.
"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.
"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.
"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.
"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.
Just for a change of pace.
You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.
"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."
And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.
Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.
"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.
Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.
You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.
"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.
"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.
"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.
"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.
"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.
"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.
"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.
"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.
Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.
Yippee.
You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.
"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.
"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.
"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?
"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.
"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.
"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.
Fuck.
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bg-brainrot · 3 months
Text
The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.
Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking
A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!
Word count: ~5.3k
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The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.
It's a day like any other, really.
After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.
"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"
You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."
Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."
"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."
The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"
You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."
"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.
You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"
Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."
"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.
"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."
You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.
"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.
"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.
You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”
Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”
“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”
The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.
It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.
The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.
Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”
He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”
“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”
You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.
“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”
Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”
You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”
The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”
With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”
Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”
You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”
“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”
“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”
His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.
Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”
“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”
“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”
The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”
“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 
“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.
“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”
As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.
Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.
Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.
Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.
"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"
“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.
You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."
He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.
Then his hands get to work.
At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.
Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.
You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.
And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.
Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.
I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.
Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.
“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.
His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”
“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.
“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”
You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.
“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.
It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.
So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.
"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.
Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”
You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”
“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”
You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”
His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”
If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.
His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.
The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.
“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”
“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”
Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.
You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.
So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.
Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."
"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.
He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”
Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.
When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.
You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 
The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.
Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.
His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–
"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."
“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”
Then his fangs pierce you.
When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.
He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.
Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.
A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.
You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.
He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.
All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.
One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.
With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.
"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"
You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.
He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.
Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.
Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.
Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.
Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.
Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.
However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 
Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."
"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.
"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.
Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”
His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.
“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.
“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.
Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”
“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.
After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 
“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.
Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.
So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.
Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."
For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."
When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."
He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"
Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.
And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.
When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.
It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.
So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.
Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 
However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.
You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.
The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.
You don’t need much more of an invitation.
Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.
"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."
"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."
He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"
"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."
"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.
You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.
You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.
The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.
The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.
Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.
What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.
You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.
536 notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
Note
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C10hCCZRjVR/?igsh=NjljbTg3OXp6NnJj
Seeing Simon holding his 3month old baby girl like this around the house and doing the koala one when he's burping the baby
READ IT HERE
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(Pics included in case you don't want to watch the short insta video)
No, no, don't do this to me. This is too fucking cute I can't stand it!
Anytime I think of Simon with a little baby of his own I immediately melt and want to give that man all the babies he wants, especially a little girl. Girl Dad Simon is at the top of my list of favorite things to think and write about with him. I just want this man to enjoy some softness.
I think at about the three month mark he is going to be a lot more comfortable with the baby and honestly, he finds that he is a natural at taking care of her. When she first came home, I can see him being really nervous and apprehensive to be around her, not that he doesn't absolutely adore her, but he is afraid he's going to somehow hurt her and he never wants that.
But after a bit of time he becomes more comfortable and is able to be very hands on in her care. And he finds that he really, really likes to be the one to hold her, burp her, ect. She is his little princess after all and his love for her just grows the more he interacts with her. I mean, she is the best of you both put together, why wouldn't he cherish her?
Oh my heart is melting.
But wait... can you imagine the baby like tracing her little fingers over his tattoos as he koala holds her? I think she would love to look at them, all intrigued about how they are just there, and Simon just lets her stare and touch as long as she likes. He says he's doing it because it's keeping her quiet, but you both know it's just so he can hold her longer.
I'm thinking this might need to be a fic involving something where some of the guys from the 141 see him being so natural just handling the baby like he was made to do it. Like big ol stoic Simon being gentle with this tiny little being, a side of him they didn't know possible.
Oh yeah this has to be a thing, my heart needs it!
Keep a look out for the massive amounts of fluff this is going to entail cause it's gonna make your teeth hurt with how sweet it is.
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