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[wintersoldierslover]

ok but w step bro! neteyam w/ “just the tip” 👀

Infected

Stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act… strange.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (means they’re not siblings related by blood, reader is adopted!), aged up characters, sex pollen, mild dub-con, dry humping, p in v, quickie, semi-public, creampie

Notes: gif made by the amazing @eclipseatsea <3 Anyways, I wrote this in one sitting wtf??🧍🏻‍♀️

Na‘vi translations:

Thanì - little star

Neteyam is hot. No, not that kind of hot— I mean yes, that kind too, but right now he feels hot. Feverish even.

His skin is glistening in a thin layer of sweat, breathing slightly uneven and rapid and eyes almost fully blown. The yellow of his iris has decreased into a thin ring around his pitch black pupils.

You hastily blurt the information of your stepbrothers condition into your throat comm, pacing back and forth in worry. Occasionally, you glance back at Neteyam, who was barely able to hold himself up on his feet, his back now resting against a tree trunk. Every time you looked at him over your shoulder, he seemed to slide further down the trunk, until he was finally sitting down on the ground. His eyes were still glued on you the whole time, following your every movement. You saw the way his nose scrunched and his ears laid flat against his head, his tail trashing against the ground behind his back and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that he was still hunting.

"Sweetheart, listen", Jakes voice finally snapped you out of your thoughts, "That sounds like he’s been infected with something. Did you two touch or eat anything strange? Got stung by something?"

"No? I- I don’t know, dad, I really don’t", you sigh, "How much longer until you’re here?"

"Twenty… maybe thirty minutes." Not before the eclipse starts, you think, chewing on your bottom lip as the anxiety grows worse. "Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep until I’m there and try to get him some water."

"Yes, yes okay, alright." You nod, even though he couldn’t see it. "Please hurry."

"Breathe, don’t panic, babygirl. It’s going to be alright, I’m sure it’s nothing bad", your stepfather reassures you and the soothing tone in voice actually helps you calm down a bit. "Check him for any stings, wounds or other injuries, okay? And if you find anything, report it back to me."

"Yes, sir."

You tried to focus on that order, because if you were to think even for one second about anything else, you would’ve lost your composure once and for all. Immediately after the line went dead, you turn back to Neteyam. He’s still sitting there, silent, unmoving, just looking at you.

"Dad will be here soon", you mumble, more to comfort yourself than him, as you step closer. "He said I need to check you for injuries."

There’s the slightest movement, barely even a nod from Neteyam as you kneel down in front of him, giving you permission to touch him. With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you reach out for his hands. You feel his palms first, then his wrist, but nothing. Your hands move further up, checking his arms, shoulders, his chest. Your mouths feels dry, but again, you can’t find anything. Not even a splinter or the tiniest scratch. He seems completely fine. You would’ve thought that there was nothing wrong with him, if it wasn’t so obvious that there was clearly something very wrong with him.

It’s when you’re about to check his back, shuffling closer and leaning forward for a better view, that he suddenly pulls you by your wrists and makes you straddle his lap. The air around you both felt electrifying now, every one of your senses coming alive all at once. You gasped his name in surprise, your face turning bright red from the intimate position you found yourself in, with both of his arms encircled tightly around your middle.

It’s been a while since someone was last this close to you and you couldn’t help but notice every single inch of bare skin that was now touching yours. Your thighs on his, his arms around your middle, your hands on his chest—

But then Neteyam hisses through clenched teeth and buries his face in the crock of your neck and it immediately snaps you back to the fact that your stepbrother was sick. He was sick or injured or eywa knows what he was going through, but it seemingly caused him this much pain and distress, that he was seeking comfort in you.

Cause that’s what it was, right? That’s why he pulled you into his lap. Right?

"A-Are you in pain?"

What a stupid question, you thought, face scrunching up in embarrassment. Of course he was, you knew that already. But what else were you supposed to say to him? You just had to say something, because sitting in a position like this with someone you considered family and not saying anything would’ve made this even more awkward than it already was.

"Hmh", Neteyam only hums. His breath is warm against the skin of your throat, a constant reminder of how close he was to you like this.

"Where?"

Why did that even matter? Maybe you thought, hoped, that he could show you where, that he would point to somewhere and help you understand what was wrong with him.

Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what he did. With his arms still wrapped around your middle, Neteyam pushed you down harder against his lap, his own hips rising just enough to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt. "Right there", he groans lowly and in that moment, it felt like all the blood in your veins rushed straight to your head, making you feel dizzy with heat.

You don’t even know why, but instinctively, you try to push yourself off and away from him. Okay scratch that— you knew exactly why. It’s not that it didn’t feel good, it was the fact that it didn’t feel right. Neteyam was your stepbrother, someone you weren’t even supposed to touch like this! Whatever it was, that made him act the way he did, he surely wasn’t himself right now. He would’ve never… or would he?

You shake your head as if to shake the thoughts out of it, hands finding purchase on his shoulders and you attempt to lift yourself off of him again, but his arms hold you secured against him. "Stay. Please", Neteyam murmurs against your collarbone, "You make me feel better."

"I, uhm… I don’t think that’s a good ide—"

You’re interrupted by the sound of your own surprised squeak, when he suddenly lifts you up and quickly, probably a little too quick, lays you down against the ground with a thud. Your back was pressed against the soft grass now and his full body weight laid on top of you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in completely.

Your heart races, hammers against your ribs like a Fkio in a small cage. A new wave of heat spreads all over your body when Neteyam presses his nose against the skin of throat, inhaling as deep as his lungs could expand.

Your arousal and natural scent were so potent on his nose, it was making his mind hazy and his cock strained against his loincloth so tightly, he thought it would tear the fabric at any second. You were trying so hard to hide your own arousal, but he could smell you— could see your flushed face, hear your panting and feel how you tried to squeeze your thighs together, if it weren’t for his hips to be settled in between them.

Neteyam inhales again and his eyes flutter close. He does so, while he continues to grind his cock against your core. The outline of his length getting dragged over your folds and his tip bumping against your clothed clit makes you whimper softly, your noises only egging him on more.

"W-What are you doing?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You sound so small and uncertain– uncertain if you could allow yourself to feel good, to enjoy this, despite the guilt of doing something so forbidden with him.

"I’m sorry. Feels better when i do that", Neteyam responds, burying his apologies into your skin, "Makes it hurt less." He doesn’t sound uncertain, or guilty for that matter. He sounds desperate, breathless. Like he’s holding himself back.

You could feel Neteyams tail wrap itself around your calf and his breath ghost over the shell of your ear, but then you shake your head and swallow thickly, like it pains you to say this, "You should… probably get off of me."

Not even a second passes, before you feel him grind himself between your thighs again, hard cock gliding over your most private parts, the fabric of your loincloths only adding further to the rough friction and you could feel the wetness pool right there, soaking the fabric.

"Sorry I just… I can’t think. Can’t stop." Neteyam whispers, sending a shiver throughout your entire body.

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry you even more, but ever since he had accidentally inhaled that weird pink dust of this strange looking flower, the one he wanted to pick for you when you had your back turned to him, it had been hard to breath. His lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first touch of your hands on him, skin to skin, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he‘s had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

"It’s okay, i know you’re in pain but—"

You nearly moan, just barely managing to catch it before the sound leaves your throat, when he bumps against your clit again. The sounds he coaxed out of you made his blood boil inside his veins.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to feel good, that you were in the middle of the forest, that he was your stepbrother, that his father, your stepfather was on his way to your position, but eywa— eywa, does it feel good when he moves like this…

Neteyam growls into the crook of your neck, bucking his hips just a little harder against you, and it sounds strained, reflecting the state of his body perfectly. "Please, thanì, c‘mon. Fuck. Just the tip, please."

"Teyam, we… we shouldn’t. Dad– Dad will be here a-any minute now." It’s a weak attempt to try and reason him. You’re not even convinced to stop this yourself, if you were being completely honest with yourself. Biting your lip, you had to conceal another whimper from escaping, as he continues to hump you like he was experiencing his rut. At this point, you weren’t sure how much more you could take of this, without giving in to your desires— to his desires.

Neteyam should feel sick about this. He should feel sick about it, but all he could feel was the heat in his guts, the painful throbbing of his cock and the soft of your skin pressed tight against his body.

A warm breath tickles your throat once again, feeling Neteyam inhale and exhale deeply, nosing your skin as if he tried to imprint your scent on his nostrils.

"I‘ll be quick, I promise", he groans, "Eywa, you smell good, r-really good."

As his mouth wanders to your jawline, kissing and sucking, his forehead comes to rest against your cheek and you gasp. He’s burning, his skin feels like it’s been set aflame. This is worse than any fever, worse than any rut.

"O-Okay", you finally agree, all resolve shattering to pieces.

Neteyam moves quicker than you were expecting. One of his hands wedges itself between your bodies, hastily pulling your loincloth to the side, just enough to gain access where he needed to. There’s no time, it seems, no time to take it slow as he fumbles with his own loincloth, flicking the fabric up and out of the way, pulling his leaking cock out from under his coverings and lining himself up with your entrance. He really couldn't think anymore, not of any consequences, not with all the blood pounding through his angry cock, desperation clinging to his body, making his mind hazy and eyes half lidded.

When he pushes your legs up with his free hand, folding you nearly in half, you’re spread wide open for him to push inside, inch after inch. The stretch as he buries himself to the hilt drives every single thought, every worry, every ounce of guilt right out of your head. Neteyam moans, he moans loud and wanton and it’s a sound of relief followed by a deep groan rumbling in his chest.

You never imagined that there was so much space inside of you, but your stepbrother happily claimed all of it, every last bit.

Eywa help him if he doesn’t savor this, because he didn’t know the next time he’ll be able to do this again, if he was even ever allowed to. You’re warm and wet and soft and tight, so tight. Great mother, it felt like his mind was going into overdrive as he began to thrust into you.

His face was still buried into the space between your throat and shoulder and he didn’t plan on moving anytime soon. He’d stay like this forever if he could. Neteyam wants every single breath he takes to be filled with your scent from now on. Whatever it was, that made him act like this, it made him so painfully aware of how sweet his baby sister smelled. How good she tasted, when he ran his tongue over her pulse point and how incredible she felt, wrapped around his cock like a little sleeve made just for him.

"T-Teyam, f-fuck!", it’s a high-pitched whine, followed by a little punched out noise that doesn’t sound like anything that’s ever come out of your mouth before. His movements are jerky and rough, all for the purpose of chasing his own pleasure. The obscene squelching sound from him pounding into your pussy, mixed with streams of moans filled the air around you within seconds.

"Sorry, sorry, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry. You just feel so good, can’t slow down", Neteyam groans into your ear, his words being the complete opposite of his actions. The movement of his thrust are deep and fast, knocking the air from your lungs and causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your head. With the way he was hammering his cock into you, you could feel the mushroomy head of it kissing your cervix over and over again, pummeling against your g-spot on the way.

It’s okay, you want to say. You would, if you were still capable of forming any words on your tongue that weren’t just mewls and curses and brabbled nonsense.

Neteyam was surely aiming to fuck the very soul out of you like this. Your hands clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin and holding on for dear life as you felt your cunt turning into a gooey mess, thanks to the mixture of his pre-cum and your own slickness leaking out of you already.

"So good, feels so good, thanì", you hear him moan next to your ear, fangs grazing your skin as he licks and nibbles on your shoulder. "O-Oh fuck, you feel amazing. So wet and t-tight."

Between the thrill of being caught and Neteyams brutal pace, it didn’t take long for you to hit your peak. His cock expertly finds all the places you couldn’t reach yourself, all the spots that make pleasure curl your toes and starbursts explode behind your eyelids. Neteyam licks the sweat from your collarbones like it’s something to be savored, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his cock like you were trying to milk him for all it’s worth.

"Teyam, Teyam I’m close, you’re gonna make me come!"

Right on cue, Neteyam hiked your leg up higher around his waist. The new angle allowed him even deeper access and you throw your head back at the new sensation. The second you felt his cock throb inside of you, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a sheet of ice– your legs squeezing around his waist, arms tightening around his neck so much that he had trouble breathing. But that didn’t stop him from fucking you like it was the only thing you were made for.

"Gonna.. haa fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you."

Neteyam feels his orgasm building like he���s been waiting for it for years, like someone had edged him, like he hasn’t had a release in forever and then it hits him like it never has before.

"Take it, shit, just take it, take my cum!"

He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, because if he didn’t, he would’ve latched onto your shoulder like a palulukan into its prey. His hips stutter, abs tensing and then he slams into you as deep as he could go, groaning your name as rope after rope of his cum fills you.

And then, the heat inside of him was gone.

As the last droplet of his seed was successfully pumped into you, Neteyam finally felt his head clear up and he came back to himself. The both of you stayed like that for just a moment, with him panting into your neck, both of you trying not to think about what you had just done.

When Neteyam finally pulls out of you, it’s gingerly, tenderly even, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. As terribly sore and used as you felt, somehow there was a secret shard of happiness under it all. You wondered, if his coy smirk was any indication that he felt the same.

By the time Jake finally arrived, the only evidence of your sins was his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the fabric of your loincloth.

[wintersoldierslover]

Bsf Rafe convincing reader that it’s normal to hump on him through his pants cus his just helping out a friend!! Plus y’all are wearing clothes

wanna state since i know im gonna receive hate lol— that reader does know what sex/sexual things are!! hence why she’s also able to tell rafe she’s horny in the first place. i’m not writing a reader that doesn’t know what sexual things are, she clearly does lol

“w-we’re fine, okay? fine. almost all close friends do this. ‘ts completely normal,” rafe nudges, squeezing your bum lightly as you continue dragging yourself back and forth. tiny gasps and whimpers echoing through the room. “it’s not like we’re having sex, you still got your panties on.” your best friend states rather obviously, tugging on the straps of your lacy, sticky underwear.

“promise.. promise nothing’s gonna change?” you mewl, dry humping his bulge, hands placed on rafe’s chest for support. “i promise, just wanna help you.. said you were horny right? it’s uh… a good thing you came to me. other guys would just — just be ruthless on you, y’know? use you and shit.”

you hum, still rubbing your clothed cunt against him, the roughness of his pants making you flustered and barely able to grasp any real attention for what he's talking about. “feels good, rafey.”

“yea, i know, can go faster than that though baby come on.” he urges, placing his hands on your waist and helping you move at a faster speed, groaning at the friction.

he had half a mind to just rip you both out of your clothes and pound you into your bed, tell you he couldn't help himself as ruts inside your hole.

but he clenches his fist and holds back. what a gentleman.

“yeah there you go, feels even better now dont it?” “so, soo much better.. you- you always know what's best, rafey." you mewl, letting out the prettiest noises as you keep on your movements, rafe’s cock jumping underneath the fabric.

“why.. why dont you come and give me a kiss? for thanks?” he questions, puckering his lips slightly. when you freeze just a bit, rafe catches on and helps you rub against him again, quickly sending you back into your haze.

“o..okay,” you whisper, leaning forward to give a him a wet kiss, somehow even more nervous at your locked lips than how you were humping him like you would a pillow.

but it was so sweet, his surprisingly soft lips against your glittery ones.

who could blame you for letting this happen a few more times? you were best friends, after all — you did everything together.

[wintersoldierslover]

Soooo Anxious

Oscar Diaz x Reader

It's been a really hot day the degree keeps increasing definitely because of climate change, those damn uncaring did this if only they cared more about the earth.

Good thing you are nice enough to make a Popsicles and snacks for everyone outside since they nag oscar to hang out and fix Oscar's car.

"God why is it so hot outside, I think I'm about to evaporate." Jamal squealed as he roughly swing the fan around, "Boy if you don't shut your mouth I wi-" Oscar was cutted off when you slam the door with you foot as you carry a tray of foods with both of your hands.

"Oh cesar you didn't told me you will be having your friends over." You said luckily you have more popsicles inside as you didn't include Jamal and the others on the list, "I didn't even know, they just passed by." Cesar stated receiving a smack from monse.

"Who's that?? She's so hot.." Jamal whispered as he scooted over to cesar as he eye you up and down, "I know right." Ruby popped out out of nowhere they arrived with him here but they just forgot him.

"If I were you I will not even say that." Cesar said as he catch a glimpse of his brother giving a side eye on Jamal and Ruby. He for sure knew what they said.

"Monse, Jasmine, dear I'm so happy you guys are here." you happily squealed as you walk near cesar to do a beso with monse and jasmine. Monse is like a little sister for you, you are the first person she run to everytime she has this girl problems, same goes jasmine. You are just old to be their sister, a sister that will have a girls night with them.

As for jamal and ruby they were quietly waiting for you to approach them and also do a beso on them but instead you just shook their hands, even though they are still grateful.

"Good thing i made more popsicles, wait.." As you started walking again inside as the two horny boys watch you walk with agape mouth, looking at your clothing which really fit your body. It will for sure make every man's hungry eyes full.

"Oy cesar, what this little friends of your staring for." Oscar said standing up from sitting on the small chair he own to use everytime he fix his wheels. "What who's staring, hey monse stop staring it's bad." jamal said nervously slapping over monse's arms earning a slap back from her.

"Been telling them that." cesar just shrugged walking to get a popsicle since heat have been bothering him since this morning, "You little putas better stop eye fucking my girl before i pull them out." oscar threatened as he started washing his hands so he can eat.

"Stop acting like a bitch in heat now oscar." You scolded as you handed out the popsicles on everyone, "Come on ma I'm just saying." oscar sighed in defeat.

Cesar still can't believe on how you can scold over oscar, he knows scolding on him is not a thing he would even tolerate. But look at you, you just make everything so peaceful by shutting oscar up.

"Here baby sit infront of the fan, it's been really smoking hot lately." Oscar offered quickly as he plugged the electric fan that jamal didn't even know it's there until oscar plugged it, "Thank you darling." You thanked as you touch his bicep after sitting on the chair.

"God she sound so hot, i wish she would call me that." ruby murmured as they sat comfortably infront of them watching oscar reach for a chair from God knows where and sat beside you.

"I swear this kids better stop looking at your boobs" oscar murmured as he stared back at jamal and ruby who was to focused on you, to shut oscar up from saying something about violent stuff you started feeding him with fries you made because you were craving.

"You made this? It's really good." jasmine asked as she almost choked from swallowing it all the way without even chewing it, good thing monse has a heavy hands to slap Jasmine's back.

"Yes i did, thank you.." You said it made you a bit shy but you love it when someone praises your cooking skills, "Do you want a drink monse? I heard the temperature will get higher later, you need to be hydrated." Cesar asked as he placed a hand on monse's shoulder.

"Yes please." Monse said as cesar quickly stood up to get a drink on the kitchen, "Get my queen some too" oscar commanded as you smack his face.

"You're being too cringe you know."

"Come on, i cannot care for my girl now?"

"Do you want me to tie your hair up?" Oscar asked again but this time more sincere than his sarcadm earlier, "Yes please baby, thank you." You said as your back faced oscar to tie your hair up.

It took a long time for oscar to learn on how to tie your hair so everytime it's getting hot you wouldn't even need to do an effort to tie your hair, plus oscar always carry two of your hair ties on his wrist just in case you forgot one.

After tying your hair up he kissed you shoulder like a light weight of feather which made both of you giggled like a high school teenagers as you face him, oscar used to be a not so affectionate significant others. But by the time being on a relationship with you he learned that it's very important to do, it's his favorite language of love.

He loves to touch you feel you in his hands, to hug you on a cold night, to hold you when you feel sad, to hold you and make you know that nothing can really change his love for you.

Another thing is he used his confidence to compliment you every second, to assure you, to tell you how much he loves you how much you meant to him.

"God I've never been more jealous in my life.." ruby murmured as he sadly munch on his burger.

[wintersoldierslover]

bad coffee

request: Connor Hellebuyck

summary: Connor’s the cute boy that keeps coming to the coffee shop you work at even though the coffee isn’t that good.

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.1k

requested by: anon

Keep reading

[wintersoldierslover]

Pornstar!neteyam with a lot of fans but only one of them had the guts to challenge him. You said you can take him when you're a human, and a short one in his opinion. He accepted your dare. Later, you found yourself crying and begging him to go slower or to stop cause the overstimulation was too much for your little body to take.

[wintersoldierslover]

lalalalalalalala i want his dick down my throat

[wintersoldierslover]

first timer | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you’re taking spencer’s virginity and everything is just so much for him that he starts to cry. 

spencer's hand was wrapped around your wrist, not too tight as to where it would stop you from being able to pump your hand on his cock but also not too loose. tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he whimpered and whined out your name.

it was his first time ever doing something like this with someone else and to him it felt better than when he did it alone, your hand felt better than his even though you were doing the same thing he would do. still, he hadn't felt so much pleasure in his life and it was so overwhelming to him, but in a good way. 

he liked the way the knot in his gut got tighter each time your hand dragged from the base of his cock to the tip, he liked the way his head spinned when you swiped your thumb over his sensitive tip, he liked the way he couldn't stop the tears from falling because of how good he felt.

you stared down at him with lustful eyes, your lips parted as you took in the sight of him so pathetic under you. you thought he looked so pretty like this, it was probably your new look on him.

"¡ can't- please, it feels so good! please, i wanna cum- wanna make a mess for you, please!" his words were slurred and broken apart by moans. you'd never heard him talk like that before, you didn't even think the word 'cum' was in his vocabulary.

you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face, it prided you that you could be the one to bring out this side of him when no one else can. really, he is still whiny and pathetic outside of the bedroom but this was a different kind of whiny and pathetic, a side that only you got to see.

watching him was making you uncomfortably wet, you could feel your arousal dampening your panties. you shifted your weight onto your knees and leaned over his body to press your lips against his. he tried to kiss you back the best he could but he couldn't keep up with you, he whined against your lips before you pulled away.

"shh, just look at me, baby." you placed your free hand on his cheek and gently wiped away his tears. it took him a moment but he eventually peeled his eyes open to look at you. "cum for me, spence. make a mess for me, baby."

you didn't have to tell him twice. spencer's hips jerked up as he started to fuck your fist, his hand instinctively tightening around your wrist and his eyes shut again. you swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock once more before his body stilled and ropes of cum spilled down his cock and your hand. you slowed your hand down and gave him a few lazy strokes before letting go of him completely.

[wintersoldierslover]

Previously virgin reader ending up loving sex and wondering how many positions would actually feel.

Everytime they would meet up shes like "let me try something new" and my mans just complies.

They be in the middle of trying "wheelbarrow" and hes wondering what did he turn her to.

Love them.

when you and rafe began having sex, it was more of a matter of how do we do this in the least painful way possible. sure if felt good, especially for him, but rafe was big, huge even, so it was of upmost importance that he didn’t hurt his inexperienced, obscenely tight, girlfriend.

but now, after months of stretching and training and endless hours spent trying to stuff his large cock into your sticky enterance, it was less about the absence of pain, and more about the potential to include it.

you wanted rafe as deep as possible. you wanted his flushed red tip to bruise your cervix with each thrust so when you couldn’t walk straight the next day you were reminded of how amazing he was, how much he loved you, how lucky you were.

it’s how you end up here, fucking yourself back on rafe as you stretch out on all fours. you’re mewling and whining, pushing your hips back in messy, slipshod thrusts.

“easy kid,” he chastises, hands guiding your movements since you couldn’t see it yourself, “you gotta slow down y’gonna hurt yourself.”

he bit his lip as he watched. white teeth sink into a plush bottom lip as he admires his once shy, inconspicuous girl blubber and cry for more dick. maybe he did believe in god.

“m’not daddy.” you cry, pushing your hips back with more conviction, harsh thrusts that make rafe throw his head back at the feeling, “want more of you.”

rafe scoffs, laying a firm slap to the fat of your ass, hand running across the reddened skin to soothe it, “y’got my shit in your guts kid, you’re bein’ greedy.” he sighs when you whine back, “you’re just a little thing yeah? you couldn’t take anymore.”

“yes-yes i can,” you cry, turning your head back to look him in his piercing eyes. your eyes are bloodshot from your pleasured tears, you look deliciously pathetic, “please daddy.”

rafe just shakes his head, “said no. you take what i give you.”

[wintersoldierslover]

divider creds to @gigittamic ! mdni, 18+ smut, morning sex, unsafe sex, nympho!reader, p in v, use of nicknames: baby, dumb girl, minx.

rafe cameron is a man of many strengths. in bed especially. there isn’t one time where the rafe cameron has tapped out during sex. the man has a lot of fucking stamina. hell, he would probably thrive as a marathon runner.

to this day, he still hasn’t been beaten however he’s gotten damn close with you.

rafe comes home from work? boom, you’re clawing at his belt. on a phone call? who cares! you’re shoving his dick down your throat. every morning, every fucking morning; rafe has to deal with your horny ass. it was like a routine to wake up with you desperately grinding on every inch of his skin.

so it’s not much of a surprise when rafe opens his eyes to you buried into his neck, slobbering all over the flesh while your hands roam free. he lets out a groan, sliding a ring clad hand down his face to wipe away all the sleep. “never gonna give me a break, huh?” rafe flips you both over so that you’re now straddling him while he’s laid down comfortably.

“please please please— need it.” you roll your hips needily around his lap, getting as much friction as you can to subdue your throbbing need. rafe holds onto your hips to steady you, sitting up against the headboard. you’re practically eating his face, sucking on his tongue in a way that almost makes his eyes roll back. his head tilts back and you chase his lips, he grunts and pushes you back so he could talk. “you don’t need it, you want it. dumb girl.” he mocks you with his deep sleep-ridden voice, nudging his pants down, “go ahead then, c’mon.”

“no, i don’t want to fuck! i wanna be fucked, rafe! ugh you just don’t get it.” you pout at him, grinding down on him a bit more quicker as the time passes. the man rolls his eyes at you. always wanting so much, he thinks. rafe’s quick to flop you onto your back, hovering over you.

“hey. quit it.” he scowls, leaning close to your face and holding your chin in his hand, “be grateful i’m even helping you out. could’ve left you like this, minx.” the way he speaks to you is so rude. you do need that firm hand though and rafe’s the man to give you that. all your brattiness that was bubbling to the top fades when he pulls his cock out and now your eyes sparkle. rafe bends your knees to your chest, swiping a thumb over the back of your knee. he taps his leaking tip against your drooling cunt and seethes himself to the brim before you can protest more. a moan comes out of both your mouths as you feel him enter.

his head falls down, his hot breath hitting your ear. his pace starts off slow, toned hips rolling deliciously into yours. this is exactly what you needed. the way he fills you up and knows exactly where to hit makes you mewl.

“shh, shh. i know, baby, i know.” rafe coos at you, kissing the tears that run down your cheeks away. he slowly pulls back his cock, your walls latching onto him, before he pushes back in. you throw your head back at the sensation, biting your lip to muffle your whines. his eyes close for a second before he opens them again to admire you. he can’t keep this pace for longer.

“gonna speed up now, okay?” you nod at him and he takes the signal to start building his speed. soon enough, you’re back to the treatment that you’re used to. his pelvis slamming down into yours while he pants into your ear. his poor back is bright red with scratches. his dick is prodding at your sweet spot over and over again. the sensation has you seeing stars. you’re so dizzy now, braindead on his dick while he pounds you into the mattress. you don’t even notice his phone buzzing on the night stand but rafe does. he ignores it the first few times but then he gets annoyed. “fuck, hold on for me for just one second, yeah?” you look up at him with pleading eyes that show you’re gonna whine over him stopping so rafe clamps a hand around your mouth while he looks at who was blowing up his phone.

the clock is what catches his eye first.

shit, he’s late and he had a very important early morning meeting. rafe throws his phone to god knows where and continues. he’s already behind the clock so he might as well finish. “c’mon, baby, c’mon gotta make this— fuck. gotta make this quick.” rafe rambles on, fingers flicking your nipples to stimulate you more while his cock rams into you continuously. “paint my cock, c’mon.” he pants out, feeling his dick twitch inside you.

you let go with a loud moan, closing your eyes as your whole body shudders. rafe follows soon behind, filling you up with his warm release. he thrusts his cum deeper inside you before pulling out and watching it drip out of your cunt. you’re all dopey now, looking all fucked out just how he likes it.

and that business opportunity is long gone by the time he’s out the door.

the birds are chirping. the morning sun beaming onto your face softly. your comfy weighted blanket protecting you from the chill air. so peaceful. a new day—

and another morning to get fucked.

you’re ready to stretch your arms out to latch onto your boyfriend again but they’re not moving. something’s weird. you open your eyes with a very confused pout, noticing a harness that goes around your neck and keeps your wrists tightly against your back.

rafe looks back at you, slouched over the dresser while he’s shirtless with nothing but his dress pants on. “oh you up, baby?” he puts on his polo quickly, greeting you with a knowing smirk. you squirm around, whining over the lack of ability to be able touch him. you’re growing frustrated now, “rafe!” you yell out to him which only fuels his amusement over your struggling.

“ah, that? can’t be late again. had to do it.” rafe shrugs, patting his pockets to make sure he had everything before leaning in to kiss your cheek. the cocky expression that’s always on his face becoming even more annoying to you. “alright, gotta go to work. behave.” and with that he leaves you there all tied up in your lonesome. very horny.

[wintersoldierslover]

My Body, His Choice

Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

Blurb: In which you've been arguing with Rafe Cameron all these years and that one time when arguments turned into something heated. Literally.

warning: no use of (y/n), kissing, harsh words, a bit suggestive?

note: enemies to lovers ;)

words: 445

“You know, for someone who claims to be so perfect, you sure do have a lot of flaws.”

You threw a bitter remark at Rafe. This was clearly not your first time getting into an argument with him.

"And you, of all people, would know about flaws, wouldn't you? I mean, it's practically your expertise."

Rafe was no stranger to you. You two grew up side by side as you were the same age. You often followed your father that Ward hired to lead some fishing expeditions. You met Rafe when you were 10 and none of those years patch your rocky ways together.

“Sarah is my sister, I sure know what’s best for her,” Rafe gritted his teeth.

“And that’s clearly not living with you,” you countered. “She’s happy with us, Rafe! I’ve never seen her laugh this much when she was with Topper, it felt like she was held hostage!”

Rafe stepped closer to you hurriedly, hissed, “Watch your little mouth.”

“Or what?” you removed more space between you and Rafe, throwing your head up in a cocky way and raising your right eyebrow. Hands on the hips, smirk never left your lips.

Rafe's breath was deep and his eyes were fixated on you. You thought he'd explode but then suddenly he grabbed your nape and pulled you close, pressing his lips against yours. His breath felt hot against your skin, his grip was tight.

Rafe’s kiss was rough and hurried, fueled by a mix of desire and frustration.

Caught by surprise, you didn’t think twice to kiss him back. He was infuriating, yes, but wasn’t he charming? With that cocky grin and confidence whenever he stride, Rafe was effortlessly dancing between the line of tempting and irresistible. 

Even if you find yourself rolling your eyes at his antics and cursing his name under your breath, there’s no denying the undeniable attraction of Rafe. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you jumped on that boat,” Rafe whispered between kisses. His grip on you tightened as if afraid you might slip away, his movements desperate and urgent.

You kissed him deeper, biting his lower lips as he let out a soft moan. In this moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips against yours, the taste of his skin, the sound of his soft sighs mingling with her own ragged breaths.

“Then why did you pick an argument with me?” you moaned as Rafe started to kiss your jawline, and then your neck. “Do you suck that bad at flirting?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rafe hissed to your neck as you shut your eyes, feeling the intensity.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

[wintersoldierslover]

thinking about this again !!! and oh my god what if when r told rafe that she isn't able to fall asleep it's cause she's an insomniac, and even though rafe and r are just hooking up, rafe gets concerned hearing this, getting even more concerned when r tells she survives her entire day on just 3-4 hours of sleep, and rafe is like "nuh uh that ain't happening" (but ofc he doesn't actually say that LOL) he shows it by just pulling her into his embrace, and she's first confused as to why he's doing this but she gets used to it and oh my god, her head on his chest, his fingers threading through her hair, and bam she's out like a light and the next morning rafe let's her sleep as long as she wants and when she wakes up, rafe tells her she slept for over 8 hours and she's like "😨😨😨😨😨 I am physically capable of doing that???"

LMAO SORRY I GOT TOO EXCITED

oh my god your MIND!!!!!!

like, not even rafe knows why he cares so much, but he does and can't ignore it. he catches himself asking r (via text and calls) if she slept well and r is like, why do you care lol and he's like bc i want you to be healthy??? and rafe notices he only sleeps well when she stays the night so they kind of make an arrangement to sleep together (necessarily have sex but that also) and rafe starts to really understand that he feels comfortable around her and begins to trust her oh my god they start having nap dates!!!!!!!!

[wintersoldierslover]

first time sharing a bed with your stepmommy. 

c.w: stepcest, mommy kink, dubcon, marking (one hickey), infidelity (cheating on a man), tension, pussy massaging (is this a tag?).

mommy wanda requesting to sleep next to you in your bed for the night, since she always feels lonely and a bit down when your dad have to spend his nights out with his guys. leaving the two of you together, your stepmommy takes it upon herself to take care of you, and she gets so happy when you accept her motherly tendencies toward you, and allowing her to look after you. your old enough to care for yourself yes, but she just want to be a good mommy and care for you as you are her sweet little angel, thats all, really. and that's her way of taking care of you, sharing a bed together and bonding over small talks.

you two are now settled in bed after few conversations, and your so stiff in your side, you were nervous to share the bed with the older woman who gives you butterflies in your stomach whenever she talks to you or so much so, looks your way and smiles, making you blush uncontrollably.

you were, however, trying to calm down and just regulate your breathing, in hopes to sleep fast, that's until her hand reached yours, squeezing it playfully to sooth your stiffness, yet her action only caught you off guard, but even so you didn't want to make it awkward or overthink her intentions and so you remained still.

she takes it further with placing her hand over your hip and pulling herself closer to you, her crotch flush against your butt, closing the gap that was separating you before. you shut your eyes tightly trying to calm your nerves, frozen in your place, you did not know what to do other than that, she was your stepmom, whatever she was doing was not to be misinterpreted as anything bad! after all she was clear from the beginning that she just wanted to get closer to you, and this certainly is.

and as your head was racing with possibilities to what this could mean, your stepmommy grew bolder; her hand reached down to your abdomen, running feather-like touches over your sleepwear, though it was not a direct touch, it still elicited goosebumps all over your skin. breathing proven to be difficult in this situation, and her hand seemed to never shy away from feeling every part of you that she could have her hand on. and as it kept inching closer and closer to your pussy, her hand quickly goes elsewhere, brushing her manicured fingers over your thigh, that has been exposed to the chilly air of the room by her own doing when she so carelessly pushed your nightgown up. you endure it all, just taking all her teasing for you.

your stepmom moved her head up, where she took a look at your 'sleeping' form, she knew you were still awake and that you're just pretending to be asleep, and so she pushed her hand further, testing just how far it would take for you to let out a sound, snap your eyes open, and beg her to make you feel good.

her eyes set on your hair and exposed neck, she wondered how would you smell like when you're sleeping, do you still smell as intoxicating as any other day? so pure and full of life, a scent that makes your stepmommy always so content and at ease. she leaned closer to your hair and took a deep inhale, closing her eyes, she basked in that same tantalizing scent of yours that seemed to do so much to her, even now she was too focused to breathe you in to notice your faint touches on her hand when her grip tightened around your waist, and when she pulled you closer to her as to deepen her nose into your hair, breathing in your scent as if it is the air she needs to live.

though you finally made your first move when you moved your hand to hers, and slightly held onto her wrist now, it was not enough for her, she needed you to open your eyes and look at her with those damn hopeful eyes of yours that seemed to perpetually spark whenever you're looking at her, to whine and moan for her, to show her just how much you like it when she touches you, how much you need it, just like she does. 

wanda raised her head from your hair and her eyes darted back to your neck, she smiled softly as she knew exactly that this is what would get you so weak for her. after all you always reacted in the most adorable ways when she would go for a hug and her breath ends up fanning over your sensitive skin, or, on the rare occasions and when she is bold enough, her lips brushes ever so gently against your neck and you squirm. she knew of your weakness and she was going to take advantages of this knowledge.

she lowered her head down to the skin under your ear. where she used her lips to first tease your hot and sensitive skin, dragging her plump pairs up and down to find that sweet spot of yours, you shivered and she knew she was right there. she opened her mouth to allow her tongue to loll out, and she used the wet muscle to give that spot a few small kitten licks, tasting your soft flesh. and then pressing it into your skin, you let out a small mewl under your breath, her ears picked on that and she chuckled lowly. but she knew she can get more out of you.

"let mommy hear you, little one," she whispered over the wet spot she was the one behind forming, sending you a shiver at the sensation of her hot breath on the reminiscent of her cool saliva on you. she received no answer. your stepmommy grew impatient, leading her to use her teeth to bite down on that same spot, which ultimately caused you to lose your composure and let out a higher pitched whimper. you could not hold back anymore.

giving up on your little act, you opened your eyes, and shyly, you turned your head to look up at her, her face wearing a tender smile that widened when you finally met her gaze, your cheeks burning with how she looked at you, she practically devoured you with the way her eyes were taking in your every little detail under the dimmed lights, and you hope that she wouldn't tease you for your red cheeks.

“your so tense baby,” she purred, letting her hand roam your stiff body freely, as to emphasize her point, your breath shallowed under her loving touch.

“let mommy help you relax, angel,” she did not wait for an answer this time, she did not need one anyways as her hand ended up down your aching cunt, and you parted your thighs for her to allow her a better access, she hummed.

"good girl," her words echoed through your mind. wanda's fingers rubbed small circles ever so slowly at your bud of nerve, all the while maintaining eye contact with you, and her smile never leaving her lovely features. you felt your pussy pulsing, and an overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. you opened your mouth slightly as you let out low whines, it felt weird but it also felt so good to be touched there. wanda bit her lower lip at how rousing you looked at that moment, and she felt like risking it all. fighting the urge to just slip her fingers in your little tight hole when her fingers reached further down, and her fingertip sensed your dripping hole, wetness already formed a patch over your panties.

but she needed to take it slow with you, she wished not to scare you away. besides you haven't begged her to touch you, to fuck and ruin you. and so that could wait for another time.

your stepmom took her hand away from your lower half, placing a fond kiss over your temple and sending you to sleep “sweet dream my little angel.”

[wintersoldierslover]

i just wanna die right noowwwww

[wintersoldierslover]

Jealous Girl.

Requested by @saturnstringz

Catching Spencer talking to another woman wasn’t exactly ideal, but thankfully you know just how to handle him. 

Warnings: Sub Spencer, ropes, orgasm denial, overstimulation, vibrator, degradation, begging, titles (Ma’am)

WC: 2.4K

“So who is she?” 

Your voice rings loud in his ears, bouncing off the walls of the silent cold room. Shaking his head, Spencer strains against the thick rope that has him tied to the hard metal chair you’ve got him bound to. 

The cold material is unforgiving against his sweating skin, and he has to swallow in order to not choke on his words the moment he opens his mouth. 

“N-No one.. She’s no one, please. Please let me cum.”

One of your hands is lazily pumping his poor neglected cock. You had been edging him for over an hour at this point. The tip was a burning hot red, spilling precum with each pass your palm granted him. He twitched in his ropes, trying to push his hips forward just the littlest bit so he could actually feel your touch, instead of it just barely grazing where he needed it most. 

If there were some things you would expect from Spencer, it would be to never be caught dead without his ring on, or to never let Google explain anything better than he could. But catching him being friendly with another woman at the mall while you were shopping for a new dress was not on that list. 

You had kept it together just fine until you arrived home. The car ride back was silent, with a few desperate attempts from him to break the tension, in which you ignored him entirely. He fidgeted in the passenger seat as his heart pounded in his chest, knowing exactly what awaited him when the two of you pulled into the driveway. 

So when you dragged him into the house and aggressively sat him down on a chair with threatening eyes that dared him to move, it wasn’t much of a surprise. 

So here you were, sitting in front of the poor man, taking your sweet time bringing him to his impending orgasm just to rip it away from him the moment it became just enough. Tears brimmed his eyes and his mouth was never closed for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“What’d you guys talk about, hm? Seemed like you were having quite some fun.” 

Your tone was dangerous, filled with a toxin that shook him to his core. His mouth went dry and you relished in the way his cock jumped in your gentle hold. 

“She was flirting with you, wasn’t she?”

You weren’t even giving him the chance to speak, but he knew better than that anyway. Your grip around him tightens and quickly strokes over the sensitive head, making him jolt in surprise. His lips part in a silent moan as you torture him further. 

“I could tell.. You get that blush on your face, the same one that’s always there whenever anyone flirts with you. The one that tells me how much you enjoy it, tells me how much of a whore you are.” 

Spencer shudders at your words, and his eyes cross as he frantically shakes his head. His disheveled hair fans in front of his face, covering his blissed out expression of pain and pleasure. 

“I-I’m.. I’m not.” 

He tries to argue, in which you just deal a painfully hard squeeze to the tip of his cock. His entire body shakes, and if it weren’t for the ropes that held him flush against the chair, he would’ve doubled over, body folding in half in a desperate attempt to get you off of him.  

“Now we’re lying, are we? As if talking to that woman wasn’t enough for you.” 

With a disapproving shake of your head, you begin to stroke him again. Your pace returns to the same rushed rhythm you had adopted this entire time. Spencer writhed in your hold and couldn’t seem to catch his breath as pathetic whimpers and moans spill from his mouth and into the warm air that surrounds him. 

You were no doubt rubbing the skin of his shaft raw, the last droplets of spit that you had so generously drooled down onto his cock now long gone. 

“Please.. Please ma’am, I need to cum, need to..”

He whines miserably, feeling the deep pit in his stomach fill with that same irresistible arousal he always got when he was about to burst. His balls were heavy against the seat, full up and just begging for a release. The lewd shlicking of your hand smearing his precum all over his dick only distracted him further. 

Tilting your head to the side and biting your lip in contemplation, your hand speeds up.

“But, I don’t think you deserve it, baby.”

Spencer’s eyes practically pop out of his head at your cruel admittance. And despite telling he couldn’t cum, the quick strokes of your palm alluded otherwise. He’s sputtering, twitching in his binds and trying to pull his cock away from you.

“P-Please, please please.. I need it so bad, just let me cum. You have to, you need to.”

Hot tears stream from his eyes and down his reddened cheeks, dripping across his jaw as he tries his absolute hardest to hold back for you. His eyes roll back into their sockets and squeeze shut as you feel him start to shallowly thrust into your tight fist.

Your hand works him past the point of return, and he can’t help but fuck up into your grip. Sliding against your rough palm, using every gush of precum as an aid to bring him to completion. 

“Ma’am.. M—Please I c- I can’t.” 

On one hand, he wanted to be good for you and not explode in your fist, no doubt making you even angrier at him. But on the better hand, yours was working him so well that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. 

Seeming to ignore his words, not even acknowledging them, you just continue your efforts to make him fall apart. You have an uninterested look on your face, like you’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

Spencer throws his head back against the top of the chair and grits his teeth, inhaling sharply as an absolutely guttural and broken moan rips through his throat.

A torrent of thick, sticky cum shoots up through your fist, spilling over the sides of your fingers and down to the base of his shaft. He’s being absolutely wrecked by the not so unexpected orgasm. Body spasming and eyes watering. 

Every expanse of his skin is covered with his fluids. Down his cheeks pours a flood of regretful tears, salty sweat dripping down his chest and temples, and hips positively soaked with his release. 

He shakes his head and tries to apologize, but all that comes out are desperate sobs of “I’m sorry” or “Didn’t meant to.” 

But the way your hand continues to move serves as enough of a rude awakening, and he chokes back another cry as he looks down at you with his eyebrows skewed into an expression of confusion. 

“W-What are.. What are you doing?”

His broken voice calls out to you, begging you to pay some sort of attention to his wrecked form. All he gets is a quiet, dismissive hum as you toy with his mess. 

Your fist drags up and down his soaked cock as if it were your job, smearing his cum all over your fingers and his still rock hard cock. 

With another desperate plea, Spencer’s thighs shake and he tries to jerk his hips away from your hold, but to no avail. 

“P-Please.. Please stop. I ca—I can’t.”

The wind has been knocked out of his lung, all of the air traveling right up to that little brain of his. As obscure facts about ancient civilizations and his newest solution to a decade old murder all dissolve into a dizzy flurry of you. 

The way you’re looking up at him through those lashes of yours, piercing eyes boring a hole right into the center of his forehead. The way one hand splays across the expanse of his pelvis and the other works its way up and down his poor abused cock, it’s all too much. 

With the shake of your head, you only force him to fuck your fist even faster and harder now. The gross noise of his cum slapping against the base of his shaft and the squishing of your fingers squeezing around him brutally are all he can possibly think about. 

That and begging you to just let up already. He’s learned his lesson, hasn’t he?

Not even close. 

“I s-swear. I-I’ll be good now, I promise. Please just—just stop.”

Spencer’s voice breaks an astonishing amount of times throughout his words, and you don’t hold back the evil laugh that you let out. He seems to crumble in on himself upon hearing it.

“What kind of punishment is letting you cum, Spence? The kind you want from her?”

He winced at the mention of anyone else during a time like this. He was only focused on you, and just hoping you’d show him some semblance of remorse. 

The overstimulation was very quickly taking over his entire self. He tried so hard to meet your dark gaze as you looked up and he looked down, but with the way his eyes kept crossing and fluttering back into their lids, he just couldn’t. 

You grab him at the head and squeeze, making a rather large fish of precum spill over the top of your fist. Spencer writhes under your hold and curses under his breath. 

The all too familiar pit was beginning to take its toll on him again, and if his heart that was beating 100 miles a minute didn’t let you know he couldn’t handle another orgasm so soon, nothing would. 

“Please, I-I can’t take it.” 

You click your tongue a few times and move your other hand so now both of them are pumping relentlessly up and down his cock. A wanton moan slips its way through his lips, echoing off the walls that’d sob if they were alive. 

“Oh but baby, you were just begging for more. What happened?”

If he could, he’d roll his eyes at the plastic tone in your voice. The faux innocence and concern laced in it was enough to make him scoff at you as you cruelly toyed with him. 

But instead, his brown locks jerk as he frantically shakes his head, whimpering in defeat. When he looks down to you and you meet his gaze, more tears well up in his big round eyes. In which you just click your tongue once more and let your hand travel to his tip. 

“Oh you’re fine, stop that.”

His hands clench and pull at the ropes, maybe in a last feeble endeavor to free himself, or in a pathetic attempt to hold himself back. Either way, neither work the second you flatten your hand and press the palm of it up against the leaking head. 

Moving one hand up and down the shaft, the other circles the surface of the palm over the sensitive hole. His eyes stutter as they roll back into his skull, and his mouth quivers as it has no other choice but to fall open and let his throat do the work. 

Bordering a scream, the moan that leaves his lips has you grinning like a madman. His thighs shake underneath you and he sputters out something resembling a warning. 

“D-Don’t. Don’t. Oh fuck, oh fuck.. I-I’m..”

Spencer’s head dips down so low his chin almost kisses the sweat-slicked skin of his sternum, and he squeezes his eyes shut so hard that thick tears drop down on his stomach. His hips stutter and his cock twitches as he can’t possibly resist the urge to just give into you finally. 

With one last sob, his lower body lifts from the chair and he’s gushing everywhere. The first spurt hits your palm directly, spilling over the sides of his shaft as you’re still circling your hand over him. The second shoots into the air the moment you remove said hand from him. And the third bursts across his entire body, traveling all the way up to where it catches against his sharp jawline. 

Spencer grits his teeth and pants through the tight corners, succumbing to the intense pleasure that’s proven itself more than enough. He’s hiccuping and shaking as his sobs wrack through his ruined frame. 

His hair sticks to his forehead and he whines as he feels his release pooling around the dips in his waist, and the space where his thighs are parted. 

Thankfully this time, you’ve removed your hands from his person as you watch him tremble in front of you. He’s made a mess of himself and on himself, but you’re not quite satisfied. 

You lean forward a bit and rest your cheek on his knee, looking up at him with an innocent expression, as if you didn’t just break him. 

“How long did you talk to that woman, Spence? I know you know.”

The man shudders and shakes his head a little before answering, almost immediately regretting even answering you the second he sees your face contort into that same evil smile. 

“Five minutes.” 

You sigh and the smile never leaves your face as you stand up and almost too joyfully walk over to your dresser. 

Spencer’s pulse rings in his ear, the blood finally rushing back through his body as he begins to feel his cock soften. His eyes flutter close as he allows himself to relax after two orgasms in a row, but the moment he opens his eyes to find you standing over him with a bright purple vibrator in your hands, his heart drops. 

“I-What?”

He nervously laughs, eyes darting around as if begging someone to save him, even though you both knew it was just the two of you. 

“Five minutes you said?”

Your finger flicks against a single button, and the buzzing of the toy taunts him as he watches it shake in your hand. 

“Then that means three more orgasms, and you’re free to go.” 

Spencer’s breath staggers and he shakes his head, twisting his wrists and knees in one last pathetic attempt to make a run for it. 

“W-Wait, please. You can't be serious.” 

His voice breaks and you can already see the fresh tears beginning to bloom in his eyes. With a shrug, you fall back down to your knees in front of him. 

You press the buzzing toy right against the sensitive underside of his already hardening cock, rolling your eyes when he cries out and whines immediately. 

“Shut it, Spence. You had your fun, now it’s my turn.” 

[wintersoldierslover]

Despise

(Not my gif whoever made it thank you and I’m sorry)

Summary: Reader is new in the BAU, Spencer doesn’t like changes therefore he doesn’t like reader.

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Fighting and jealousy. Brief mention of a dead body.

So again with writing challenges, this fic is for @imagining-in-the-margins’s enemies to lovers writing challenge <3 and this is my first time writing enemies to lovers so I profoundly apologize but I actually like it so much

Let’s count how many times they roll their eyes <3

Tagging: @measure-in-pain, @alexlovescriminalminds and @all-tings-diego

Keep reading

[wintersoldierslover]

A Very Merry Unbirthday

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: minor angst, fluff at the end

Request by anon: I was wondering if you could do a angst fic where Spencer forgets readers birthday maybe he’s too distracted by JJ (or anyone else) then Derek is the one who reminds him, maybe Derek brings reader flowers and Spencer got jealous and confronted Derek and that’s when Derek tells him that it’s her birthday 

Summary: Your birthday is here and the one person you expected something from doesn't even remember it's here.

Square Filled: penelope garcia for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Today is a very exciting day because today is your birthday! To celebrate the big day, you’re wearing your favorite jeans that hug your ass nicely, shoes that make you look taller without it being a high heel, a nice blouse that stays in work regulations, your hair is half-pinned to the top, light makeup on your face, and a smile to tie it all together. 

It sucks you won’t get to spend it with your family but you have another family waiting for you at the office. Being surrounded by the people you care about, especially your boyfriend, is something you’d never turn down. Spencer has always been known to do cute and romantic things for you so you’re so excited to see what he has planned for your birthday.

The first person you see when you walk into work is Spencer. He is at his desk on the phone and based on his face, it’s not a pleasant phone call. You’re not going to bother him when he’s working so you’ll greet him when he gets off the phone. You walk to your desk and set your things down when JJ and Emily approach you from behind.

“Happy birthday,” Em grins.

“Thank you!”

“Anything special planned?”

“You mean besides the not-so-surprise party Pen is throwing?” JJ and Emily have shocked looks on their faces. “Come on, I know even if no one told me. Don’t worry, I’ll be prepared to be surprised.”

“She does make it obvious sometimes,” Emily chuckles.

“Other than that, no. Spencer might have something planned but that I do not know about.” Spencer gets off the phone with a sigh and you depart from your friends. You walk over to him with a smile even if he doesn’t return it. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry, I can’t talk right now.”

He grabs a bunch of files off his desk and leaves his desk and you behind.

“Okay, I’ll catch you later,” you call after him.

Maybe he’s having a busy morning. You’ll meet up with him later once he’s had enough time to get done what he needs to. Hotch and Rossi walk into the bullpen after visiting someone on the first floor, and you smile at them.

“Hi, Hotch. Rossi.”

“Hey, happy birthday, kiddo,” Rossi smiles.

“Yeah, happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Another year older. It seems like the older I get, the faster time goes.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Rossi jokes.

They both have gifts for you but they will give them to you at Penelope’s surprise party. She is a dead giveaway when she is doing something for other people. Once she starts planning, she has a hard time keeping it inside. It’s endearing.

After lunch, you find Spencer in the break room. He has been working his ass off all day and is in desperate need of something to eat.

“Hey, Spencer. How was your morning?”

“Rough. Hotch has me running around doing everything under the sun.”

You wait for him to say something but when he doesn’t after five seconds, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Monday?”

“Yes but no.”

“It’s not a holiday.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t know. What?” The smile on your face falls when you realize that he may have forgotten about you. He forgot. “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, um, I just made you some lunch. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thank you,” he smiles and kisses your cheek.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper.

You wait for him to say anything else to you but he doesn’t. Spencer never forgets anything but he forgot this? He forgot you? Spencer’s desk phone rings and he abandons the lunch you made to answer it. Maybe you’re not important to him anymore.

You avoid him like the plague for the rest of the day. He doesn’t seem to notice since he is nose-deep in his work, but he does notice Derek walk in with some flowers in hand.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Spencer smiles.

“Yours.”

“What?” Spencer stands up and checks the card to see your name on it. “Why are you giving my girlfriend flowers?”

“You didn’t get her any?”

“No, why would I?”

“You’re in trouble, that’s all I gotta say,” Derek chuckles.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, Morgan. Why are you getting my girlfriend flowers?”

“I got them for her birthday which is today.”

“No, it’s next month.”

“No, it’s today.”

Spencer groans in realization as Derek places the flowers on your desk.

“Are you kidding me?” Now he knows why you’ve been avoiding him all day and why you were so weird during lunch. “I messed up big time. She asked me earlier what today was but I told her I didn’t know. Now I have no idea where she is. She’s been avoiding me.”

“I saw her head into Pen’s office.”

“Thank you.” Spencer rushes over to Pen’s office and knocks twice. He tries to open the door but it’s locked. “Penelope? I know Y/N is in there.”

The door unlocks and Pen only opens it slightly so he can’t barge in.

“She doesn't want to see you right now.”

“Just let me talk to her.”

“Try again later.”

“Y/N, I am so so--”

Penelope closes the door on Spencer, cutting him off. Spencer debates on knocking until you relent but he has a better idea. It’s nearing the end of the day and Hotch has granted him early leave for the day.

“I get he’s busy and gets distracted, but not one ‘happy birthday’ to me? He remembers everything but not this?”

“Honey, all men are stupid, even the smartest of them.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t hide out here forever.”

“Good luck!”

You finish the rest of the work day without seeing Spencer and you don’t see him on your way home. You unlock your front door and enter your apartment expecting to just go to bed and forget today ever happened. Instead, you see fake candles making a path straight to Spencer who is holding a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you eventually ask and close your front door.

“I am so sorry for today. I was caught up in work and I didn’t realize what I was doing until Derek told me, but that’s not an excuse.”

“Do you even know what today is?”

“It’s your birthday.”

“You forgot.”

“No, I was distracted. Darling, I am so sorry.”

You sigh, take your jacket off, and hang it on the rack by the door.

“I’m not upset that you were busy. We all get busy. I’m more upset that you forgot. You have a mind that can’t forget but you forgot me. It made me feel like I’m not important enough to you.”

Spencer rushes over to you and pulls you into his arms, lifting your chin so you’re looking right at him.

“No, don’t ever think that. You’re the most important person in my life. You are the light in all this darkness. You are the reason I get up in the morning.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hotch has been bombarding me with work lately. I got caught up in that today.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Is that rose for me?”

Spencer smiles and holds the rose out for you. “Yes.”

“Do we still have time for dinner?”

“Why don’t we stay in tonight and I’ll cook for you? We can plan something for after your party I know you know about.”

“Okay, deal,” you smile.

He leans down and kisses you, relieved that he didn’t mess everything up.

x

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[wintersoldierslover]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.”