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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Word Count: 4.6 k

Warnings:

The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with.

Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.

Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.

There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.

Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.

He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself.

All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.

Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.

Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.

The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.

Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs.

There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.

Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it.

His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on.

His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.”

He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again.

One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.

“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.

He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.

His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.

Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake.

There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.

As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation.

The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room.

That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.

“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process.

With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Fuck, what a way to start the day.

In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit.

“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”

Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.

Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.

“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.

Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.

“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.

Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more.

Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated.

There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth.

Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you.

His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.

Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.

And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.

Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down.

Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs.

“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs.

You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.

Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.”

“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”

You’re screwed.

Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.

So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed.

“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in.

Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart.

This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life.

The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different.

“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.

You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”

“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.

It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.

“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened.

You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”

You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.

He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.

His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied.

“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”

Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.

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gigivas · 28 days

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Layla Boustani: Majestic Gaze, A Lady's Ethnic Enigma

Stable Diffusion series

POSITIVE PROMPTS (Copy the following) Charcoal and graphite artistically portray a Lebanese-style young woman, exuding vintage waves hairstyle, enveloped in a silk blouse adorned with ethnocultural embroidery, wielding a bold and direct stare, maintaining a head straight with a powerful stance, and intensely engaging another in this arresting head profile portrait shot. Meticulously shaded, unveiling intricate facial expressions, preserving a minimalistic yet expressive aura, centering on the eyes, embracing a monochromatic theme, and accentuating tender contours, all as a testament to her formidable character and emotions.

NEGATIVE PROMPTS (Copy the following) full body shot, modern, light, vibrant, colorful, simplistic, minimalism, plain, simple, bokeh, blurry, blur, emotionless, boring, worst quality, low quality, normal quality, lowres, low details, oversaturated, undersaturated, overexposed, underexposed, grayscale, bw, bad photo, bad photography, bad art, watermark, signature, text font, username, error, logo, words, letters, digits, autograph, trademark, name, grainy, ugly, asymmetrical, poorly lit, bad shadow, draft, cropped, out of frame, cut off, censored, jpeg artifacts, out of focus, glitch, duplicate, nsfw, deformed, noisy, blurry, distorted, low contrast, dull, plain, modest, cleavage, asymmetrical eyes, signature, watermark, text, word, logo

(Note: Positive and negative prompts can instantly make you an AI drawing expert. Applicable to almost all AI drawing platforms and software that support input of positive and negative prompts. For example, all Stable Diffusion platforms, DreamStudio.ai, Craiyon.com, Leonardo.ai, etc.)

Midjourney v6 (Copy the following) /imagine prompt: In this captivating charcoal and graphite portrait, a young Lebanese woman is depicted with a vintage waves hairstyle, beautifully attired in a silk blouse adorned with traditional embroidery. Her bold and direct stare conveys her strength and determination, as her head remains erect with a powerful posture, her gaze locked onto an unseen observer. The portrait skillfully showcases delicate shading and intricate facial expressions, effectively communicating her emotional depth. Adopting a minimalistic yet expressive style, it emphasizes her commanding eyes set against a monochromatic backdrop and subtle contours, capturing her individuality and emotions. The soft, ambient lighting fosters a reflective ambiance, elevating the introspective mood of this close-up composition, masterfully encapsulating her upright and intense demeanor., --ar 2:3 --v 6

(Note: At https://docs.midjourney.com/docs/parameter-list, you will learn the details of how to personalize Midjourney parameters, but for now we have configured them for you.)

DALL-E 3 (Copy the following) This impressive portrait features a young Lebanese woman sporting a chic vintage waves hairstyle and a silk blouse with traditional embroidery. Her captivating, direct gaze conveys strength and confidence while standing tall and firm. The portrait recalls charcoal and graphite masterpieces through delicate shading and expressive facial details, focusing on her striking eyes against a monochromatic background. The soft contours of her face reflect her character and emotions. The ambient lighting embraces an introspective mood, inviting viewers to engage intimately with her magnetic close-up view.

(Note: Prompts for OpenAI DALL-E 3 also apply to any AI drawing platform that does not require entering negative prompt words, such as Microsoft Copilot Designer, Adobe Firefly, Canva.com, etc.)

#charcoal portrait #vintage waved hair #Lebanese female youth #silk blouse with ethnographic embroidery #assertive gaze #upright powerful posture #mutual eye contact #profile shot #nuanced shading #expressive facial aspect #concise communication #intense eye focus #monochrome design #smooth contours #persona and emotion echoed

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incognit0slut · 7 months

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A SPECIAL SHOW

Part 3 of kinktober | main masterlist

virgin!spencer x fem!reader; Lingerie, Exhibitionist/voyeur, overstimulation, squirting

No one would’ve guessed you liked to touch yourself in front of billions of people online, except for your roommate, who you thought would be a great addition to your next late-night session.

Words: 6,213

a/n: my kinktober is running late. Oopsss

THERE WAS SOMETHING EXHILARATING ABOUT BEING WATCHED. You reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention. You weren't sure how it started, nor when it started, all you knew was that every Friday night you were always seated—or sometimes laid—in front of your computer. Webcam on, chatroom on, and most importantly, your alter ego was on.

Princess_Pink is online.

It wasn't the most creative name, but it was your initial thought when you made your account. You had always taken a certain liking for the color pink. As for princess... well, there was nothing else to it, you just liked being called that.

Princess.no1.fan: i've been waiting for you!! Adam_4432: hey princess Keaton-bigdick: ready to jerk off to you baby Hardcock69: turn on your cam!

If you told your younger self that you'd be touching yourself in front of horny strangers online, you would've scoffed in disgust. Your past innocent self would definitely look down on your choices, which honestly, something you once had questioned too at one point. But the amount of money increasing in your bank account always stops you from doubting yourself.

It was partly the reason why you were still doing this. Your nine-to-five job wasn't going to cut out the expenses you needed, providing yourself in other ways was the only option. The reason was, yes, you needed the money, that was true. But deep down you were aware of how much you actually enjoyed doing this. If you once thought that these men watching you were disgusting, horny people, then maybe you were just as disgusting as they were.

And somehow you were okay with that.

Horny_BBC: turn your fucking cam on you slut JadenCums: don't talk to her like that JadenCums: she's not going to give us anything if we don't behave Princess.no1.fan: princess pretty please show us your sexy body

You turned your camera on. There it was, your reflection on the screen. Your baby pink lingerie, a silky second skin, clung to every curve, accentuating the elegant contours of your body with its deep neckline plunging gracefully. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the soft lights in your bedroom, and illuminating your smooth skin. A coy, knowing smile played on your lips, revealing a self-assured confidence that was impossible to ignore.

"Hello, boys," you greeted, your voice deep and sultry. "Did you miss me?"

A chorus of replies filled the chatroom and you smiled. You loved the attention they gave you. It was something you never gained in your normal, mundane daily life, and you actually didn't mind it. You liked being the invisible quiet girl sitting at her own desk, minding her own business. But now you were exactly the opposite of that girl and you thrived on the desires that lingered in those who watched you.

But there was still some privacy that you needed to keep because honestly, you didn't want your coworker to know this secret life of yours. You used to wear a fancy mask that looked like it came out from a masquerade ball, but with how technology has developed, you now opted to use a filter that animated your features. It was perfect.

"I had a very rough week," you continued, playing with your hair. "But now that everyone is here..." You leaned forward, showing the soft curves of your cleavage. "...I feel so much better."

Adam_4432: fucking hot Keaton-bigdick: love the dress Keaton-bigdick: love it better on the floor

You giggled. "Patience, boys. You know how this goes. We play a little game along the way." You ran a hand through your hair. "So what game do you think we should play?"

Your eyes traveled along the comments. "Twister? How are we supposed to play that? Oh—Strip poker? That does sound good—wait! Yes! We should do a classic." A smile curled on your lips. "Truth or dare."

Fatcock_777: ok truth or dare princess?

You rolled your eyes. "Truth, duh. We're starting this slow."

You scanned through the comments and picked a question that seemed easy for you to answer.

Pussylicker: have you ever masturbated in public

"I have masturbated in public," you responded, biting your bottom lip teasingly as you looked straight into the camera. "I once touched myself at work because... well, I was desperate. Locked myself inside the bathroom and fucked myself with my fingers, it was so hard keeping quiet."

You then laughed at yourself. "Alright, next question. I'm still choosing truth, by the way."

JadenCums: will you ever bring a guest here? JadenCums: would love to see you getting fucked

This time you wiped your tongue along your lip. The mere thought of having someone else please you who was not yourself, right in front of these strangers online, aroused you in a way you never thought possible. You clenched your thighs together as you imagined yourself in front of the camera while somebody else was here to touch you, to tease you—to fuck you.

"Bringing somebody else here? Sounds amazing, to be honest," you answered. "But you see, I don't think I know anyone willing to do what I do—"

Bang! Clink. Clink.

You stopped yourself and frowned. A sudden sound vibrated through your room, a jarring clash of clanging and clattering emanated from what seemed to be the kitchen. Your eyes darted toward the noise, curiosity, and concern merging on your face as you attempted to discern its source.

Another clatter followed through, louder than before.

"Wait a minute, boys," you mindlessly said to your audience, your eyes still narrowing on your bedroom door. "I'll be right back."

You quickly turned off your camera and muted your microphone, ignoring the protests thrown in the chat, and rose from your bed. With measured steps, you left the sanctity of your room and ventured into the adjacent kitchen. Your steps halted right at the moment you found your roommate stooping down to retrieve a fallen pan. The metallic clang resonated briefly, then subsided, replaced by the soft rustling of clothes and the muted glow of ambient lighting.

"Spencer?" You called out softly, your voice carrying a note of concern.

He straightened up, holding the pan in his hand. His response was apologetic, a musing note in his voice, "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep, and I thought drinking something warm could help me relax."

Your eyes wandered to the carton of milk that sat on the counter. "So you decided to make warm milk?"

"Apparently we ran out of tea..."

His voice trailed off as he looked up from the fallen pan, and as he met your gaze, time seemed to slow. His apology hung in the air, a mere whisper, as his eyes found your figure in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The lingerie you wore, delicate and pretty, cast your curves in a subtle, alluring way.

There was one word to describe your roommate. Cute. He was really cute. If he wasn't so oblivious to your little, innocent crush, you'd already be worshiping the ground he walked on. Maybe you should've told him how you found his habit of dumping facts endearing, but then again, you felt as if he had been avoiding you ever since he found out about your late-night rendezvous with your computer.

Keeping it a secret from your friends, family, and colleagues was easy, you didn't see them often. But keeping it a secret from Spencer, your roommate who you see every day, who bluntly asked why you were whining every Friday night at the exact same time, was hard.

Surprisingly, you thought you'd be appalled by telling him the truth, but something about him made you spill out what you had been doing behind your bedroom door. He seemed like the type of person who never judged, and he obviously didn't when you told him you were doing it for the money. But even though he accepted your secret without pressing any further, you realized, he had been avoiding you ever since.

For a heartbeat, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Then he finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's Friday, huh?"

You stepped closer, your bare feet making a soft padding sound on the kitchen floor. "Yeah."

"Well, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Don't mind me."

You couldn't help but study him with a sense of quiet fascination. There was something utterly captivating about the way he appeared in this unguarded moment, and you couldn't resist your curiosity as you observed his relaxed, almost nonchalant demeanor.

Your eyes trailed over him. The lower half of his body was swathed in loose-fitting pajama pants, their fabric patterned with a subdued design. The shirt he wore was equally unpretentious, and its well-worn, soft texture cradled his upper body loosely. His hair seized your attention next. It was disheveled and slightly tousled, its tips barely touching his shoulders.

Yet, it was his hands that captivated you the most. His hands were notably broad, his fingers long and deft. The veins that traced along the back of his hands were what had you staring further, and as you caught the way they flexed whenever he moved between the narrowed space, you wondered what it would feel like to have them on you.

And now the question from earlier kept on repeating in your head. Will you ever bring a guest here? If you had to choose someone else to please you, your answer would definitely be him.

"Hey, Spence?" He looked at you, and under the intense scrutiny of his gaze, your nerves tightened their grip on you. You quickly shook your head. "Never mind."

"No—wait. What is it?"

"It's nothing, just forget it."

He took a step forward, closing the gap between you. "Tell me what you were about to say."

It was now or never, at least, that was what you kept convincing yourself. You then braced for the question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How do you feel about joining me?"

You noticed the frown forming on his face. "Joining you?"

"Yes, for my stream." The baffled look he gave you made you explain yourself further. "You don't have to be naked! And if you must know, I use this cute filter to hide my face in a way, but if you don't like that, you can be completely anonymous. I'll make sure your face is out of the frame."

You wanted to kick yourself. The silence that came after your proposition was gnawing at you, almost as if it was mocking your brassness. This was Spencer Reid, the hot-shot FBI agent you lived with who had been avoiding you for the exact reason, and you were now inviting him to join you? What on earth were you thinking?

"See? This is stupid. Forget I said anything—"

"What do I have to do? If... if I don't have to be naked."

You blinked, caught by surprise for a moment, and then your lips curved into a coy smile. He was interested.

"You can play with me."

You took a step forward.

"Touch me."

You took satisfaction in the way his eyes lowered down your body.

"Please me." Your eyes bore into him, liking the way they turned a shade darker as he kept staring at your cleavage. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to sleep after this."

His eyes swept along the expansion of your neck before they met your gaze. "Just... touch you? That's it?"

"That's it," you confirmed. You wanted to ease the tension, so you joked with a playful grin, "I'll split the money with you from this stream."

Spencer softly chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No, keep it. People pay to watch you, not me."

"So is that a yes?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "...yeah?"

It was really happening. Before he could regret his decision, you quickly reached for his hand and guided him to your room. He followed you quietly, and when you pulled him in, his eyes swept across your personal space, taking in the predominant color palette of pink that seemed to envelop the space with a cozy, feminine charm.

The heart of your room was undoubtedly your computer setup, strategically placed directly in front of your bed. There was a small camera perched on top of the screen and a professional mic placed to the side, and to be completely honest, the sight of everything was starting to intimidate him.

"I need to tell you something," he softly began. "This is my first time doing this."

You gently squeezed his hand. "I'd be surprised if you've ever done this before. You're not even on social media."

"No, I mean—" He turned you around to face him. "I've never touched someone... intimately."

"Really?" Your eyes shot up as you noticed the way he emphasized the word. "Wait, Spencer... are you a virgin?"

There was a pause as he searched your eyes hesitantly. "Does it make me weird if I told you I am?"

Somehow that didn't surprise you, since you never actually saw him taking an interest in relationships, so your response was swift. "No. You're always weird regardless," you quipped, dissipating the tension with a teasing grin. "I'm kidding."

He smiled, although his question still lingered in the air, and he shifted the focus back to you again. "Do you still want me here?"

"I should be asking you that question, silly. Are you fine with all this?"

To your surprise, his response was affirmative. "Surprisingly, yes, I am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

He still looked nervous though, and without putting much thought into it, you closed the distance and stood on your tiptoes. Your hands softly held his jaw, and the moment you pressed your lips onto his, a sound of satisfaction erupted from his chest.

You sighed in contentment as you felt his hands sliding around your waist, holding you closer as you moved your lips against his. The kiss was slow and lazy, yet the sensation of it traveled along your body, leaving you almost breathless as you felt his tongue teasing your entrance. A moan slipped out of you as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging onto the strands desperately as your tongues collided with one another in a delicate trance.

Your lips on his were hot, soft, settling, and wet, pulling onto each other for more and when you finally stopped, his eyes were closed, heavily exhaling, his hair ruffled, and he looked like the prettiest mess ever.

"W- What was that for?" He whispered, still in his dazed state.

"Setting the mood." You slowly pulled away and walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it, positioning yourself back in front of your computer. "For someone who has never had sex, you sure know how to kiss."

He collected himself and looked at you as if you had offended him. "I've kissed other people before."

"I can tell." You then narrowed your eyes at him. "Alright, you ready?"

"I..." He took a tentative step forward. "I think so."

With practiced efficiency, you started up the stream again. The moment you turned on your microphone and camera, almost immediately, comments began flooding in. The chat scrolled rapidly. You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicked to the monitor.

"Hey, everyone, sorry for leaving you so suddenly. But I guess this is your lucky day... because I have someone joining me tonight!" A chorus of excited responses flooded the chatroom and you giggled at the enthusiasm they were giving you. "Oh my, didn't know you guys really wanted a guest over here."

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Easy money, you thought to yourself, and by the way Spencer's eyes went wide, he also caught the amount of money sent to you when you were barely doing anything. "They give you that much for saying that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "Spe—" You stopped as his name almost slipped out your mouth. You cleared your throat and quickly corrected yourself. "Babe, they can hear you."

The pale complexion of his skin accentuated the subtle blush that tinged his cheeks, a result of either your affectionate tone or his embarrassment over his unfamiliarity with the situation. "Oh." He stared at your computer screen with uncertainty, his gaze filled with hesitation. "Right."

You urged him to come closer with your hand. "Come here, pretty boy."

He cast a fleeting glance in your direction, prompting an eye-roll as you observed his clumsy approach towards you. You eyed the camera and addressed your audience, "He's a little shy, please be nice to him."

As soon as he entered the camera frame, the comments section buzzed with curiosity. Many viewers wondered about the identity of this mysterious man, who happened to appear just as someone questioned a potential guest on the stream. Most of the other comments were positive, stating how excited they were, but a few of them disturbed you when they mentioned Spencer's physical appearance and how 'this fucking twig' didn't deserve to touch you.

You quickly guided your mouse to block them.

"I told you to be nice," you emphasized, your voice carrying a subtle edge. "I don't tolerate any form of harassment."

Spencer, seemingly oblivious, frowned at you. "What did you do?"

"Kicking disrespectful people out," you answered for him. Then, directing your attention towards him, you rose from your bed and gestured to the empty space. "Sit here."

He followed your instructions, settling onto the soft mattress as you adjusted your camera at a lower angle, making sure his face remained hidden from view. When you were satisfied, you instructed him to scoot back, which he happily obliged, because how couldn't he? He was captivated by what was happening.

Spencer never thought he would have his lower half on display—albeit still fully clothed—in front of thousands of people online. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of a camera, watching you as you slipped your knee between his thighs, urging him to part his legs. Nervous energy pulsed through him as he found himself in such close proximity to you, especially when you started to kneel right between him, clutching his shoulders as you steadied yourself.

"Someone dared me to show my cute panties," you mused, and even when you were addressing yourself to the stream, your eyes were locked with his. "Help me show them, babe."

His heart quickened as he looked up at you. "W-what do I do?"

You smiled at him and leaned down, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, making sure he was the only one to hear you as you whispered, "Play with my ass, Spencer."

His breathing became shallow and erratic. He slowly reached out and put his wide hands on your hips before sliding them along your ass cheeks. He gently kneaded them, squeezing them with the utmost delicacy as if he was holding himself back.

Spencer had always been a gentle person, it was a fundamental aspect of his character, something he had known from the depths of his being. You liked that about him, it differentiated him from all the men you had ever been with. But right now you needed him to touch you with the same urgency you craved. You needed him to let go.

"You can do better than that, pretty boy," you pressed on, brushing your lips along his jawline. "Show the audience what they want."

Something in him switched at that moment. Maybe it was the way you were kissing down his neck. Or maybe it was the way you were pressed against him. Whatever it was, he suddenly felt less inclined to be gentle and, instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with more power. He squeezed them, holding your flesh with so much vigor that you had to hold onto him, burying your face in his neck.

He glanced past your shoulder and caught your reflection. He couldn't believe those were his hands on the screen; touching you, teasing you, pleasing you. You were definitely pleased with the way you kept on squirming against him. It mesmerized him how much you were responding to his simple touch, and now when he knew he could make you sigh in pleasure, he wondered how much more you could react the more he touched you.

Spencer pressed his hands at the back of your thighs before trailing them up your legs. He paused for a moment, hearing the way your breath quickened with anticipation, and smiled to himself when you let out a whimper as he squeezed your flesh again. The hem of your lingerie rode up your hips every time he moved, and your laced panties, with their fabric barely covering your already wet sex, were on display for the audience to see.

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He cocked an eyebrow, fascinated by how showing a little skin could earn you money. Curiosity took over him, and he let his fingers trail between your flesh before spreading them apart, showing off your wet patch to the camera. You arched your back, pressing your lips into his neck again as your arousal shot through your veins before it pooled right in your center.

Princess.no1.fan sent you a $100 gift

Interesting, Spencer thought, and slipped his fingers between the soft material of your panties before sliding it to the side, exposing your wet skin. His eyes shot up when someone gifted you another hundred dollars, and without much thinking, he brushed the pad of his fingers along your folds, loving the way you whined out a desperate moan right into his ear.

"You're doing great, baby," you told him breathlessly. Hearing your encouragement only made him want to please you even more. He let his middle finger glide along your dripping pussy, mesmerized at how wet you were, and braved himself as he slowly pushed his finger inside you.

He couldn't stop the sound of pleasure erupting from his chest when you squeezed around him. You were so wet, so warm, so incredibly tight. He thrust his finger in and out of you and you mewled, arching your back, grinding your hips toward his touch. And just as you were about to relish the sensation, he abruptly pulled his finger out of you and held you by the hips, gently pushing you off of him.

"Somebody dared you to turn around," he said, licking his lips as his eyes trailed along the front of your body, stopping right at your cleavage.

You smiled, amused that he was actually reading along the comments while touching you. Without saying a word, you got off the bed, your back still facing the camera. Your hands gently slid up your lingerie and you tugged on your panties down your legs, not forgetting to arch your back while doing so, making sure the camera captured the soft curves of your ass.

Spencer watched you intently. He watched the way your body swayed from each movement, appraising the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples pressed against the thin material of your lingerie, slightly teasing him behind the see-through lace. His eyes skimmed along your neck, stopping at your face, taking in the way you were looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

You were so beautiful. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, reaching out as if guided by some unseen force, wanting to touch you further. He rested a hand on your hip while his other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as he slightly reached out, meeting you halfway in a soft, enchanting kiss.

You melted right into him. His unexpected kiss threw you off as you weren't prepared for how passionate he was exploring your mouth; nipping your bottom lip, softly sucking the flesh as he pushed his tongue into you. He was kissing you as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if the first time he tasted you ignited the passion within him, forcing yourself to surrender to his touch.

As much as you wanted it to last, you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, completely breathless as if the sheer magnitude of his kiss had stolen the very air from your lungs. "We should... we should keep the show going."

Your words reminded him that you were still being watched. "...Right."

Finally pulling away from him, you turned around and faced your monitor, reading along the comments on the screen. Although the camera didn't capture your kiss, the intimate atmosphere was unmistakable, and many of your followers began speculating about the identity of this mysterious man. They raised questions, even going so far as to wonder if he was your boyfriend.

How you wished that was true.

You shook your head and focused on the other comments, picking up the ones where they were throwing you some dares. One of them insisted for you to spread your legs in front of the camera which was honestly something you plan to do anyway.

So you sat between his legs, pressing your backside against his crotch, and stifled a moan when you felt his cock pressing into you. You could tell how hard he was, how aroused he seemed just by touching you. It was undeniably satisfying to be the one who had evoked such a response from him.

You leaned on his chest, placing your head right in the crook of his neck, and slowly spread your legs apart, finally exposing your flesh. Spencer could feel his slacks tightening, feeling himself going hard at the sight of you. The soft, ambient light in the room played a delicate dance upon your wet skin, accentuating its flawless smoothness. He also realized he wasn't the only one mesmerized by you, the chatroom also seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

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"I think they dared you to do something, baby," you mentioned, arching your back and spreading your legs wider. But Spencer's attention was somewhere else, most precisely, on your chest. Your nipples were begging for attention and he couldn't help but reach out his hands over the swell of your breasts. He gave them both a gentle, appreciative squeeze, admiring the way they looked in his hands.

"Babe," you whispered, your voice almost coming out as a whimper. "T- That's not what they want."

"But it's what I want," he said absentmindedly, too focused on watching the way his large hands covered your breasts. "They can wait a little longer."

His hands then moved to tug down the straps of your lingerie, your breasts spilling out from the sheer lace material and he groaned at the sight. "You're beautiful," he praised you, earning a soft blush along your cheeks. He palmed them again, watching the fleshy, supple skin contort around his touch. "No wonder everyone loves seeing your body."

Your breath quickened as you felt the sensations intensify, pleasure coursing through your body. "Are you sure you've never touched anyone before?"

He hummed a reply as he pinched your nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, tugging them from your body as he cherished the gasp that left your lips. Letting go as he watched your breast bounce at the motion before repeating the action, wanting to pull more of those noises from your pretty lips. His eyes glanced over to the screen and smiled in satisfaction when your subscribers gifted you again.

"See? They like these as much as I do," he mentioned, giving your breasts a final squeeze before down your stomach, across the dip of your navel, up and down the thickness of your thighs until he stopped between your legs. Fingers lathered down your slit, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. He watched himself as he pressed onto your pussy lips, spreading them apart for your viewers to see.

This position wasn't unfamiliar to you, you had spread your legs for the camera countless times, but to have another person touching you overwhelmed you in a way you didn't know possible. And when you thought you couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in your body, he proved you wrong by pressing a finger right onto your clit, making circular motions right on top of it.

You couldn't help but let out a moan louder than you intended to. "Babe..."

You gave into the sensation, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. You could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored you, collecting the slick of your arousal before spreading it along your folds.

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Spencer didn't have to be asked twice, sliding his middle finger into you. You let out a gasp. "Fuck, baby..." Your eyes were transfixed on the screen as you watched the way his hand flexed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another one, stretching your inner walls.

You whimpered as he began to thrust into you and your body jerked involuntarily. Your room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. He watched your reflection on screen with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitched and the way your lips fell split.

His fingers were long and thick, dragging along your walls. The moment of gentleness was suddenly gone when he picked up the pace. The speed turned into a ferocious one as if he was trying to reach deep inside of you and force something out. A reaction. He wanted to force another reaction out of you, more than you were giving to him now.

"That's it—fuck." You gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

He curled his fingers inside of you, making your body jolt. He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, and with every thrust, his skin rubbed against it. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips, your head slumping against his shoulder.

"Faster," you managed to squeak. "I-I'm close."

Who was he to disobey your wishes? He obliged to your needs and pumped his fingers in a mind-numbing speed. The intensity made it hard for you to think, your body trembling as you felt the coil inside you tighten desperately.

A guttural whine left your lips as he began to pump his digits in and out of your sloppy pussy, focusing on the same spot inside of you with each flick of his wrist. Your mouth parted in a squeal as your toes curled, the soles of your feet digging into your mattress as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you, helping you to ride out your release.

Maybe it was the inexperience of sex, the way he had never seen a woman come undone right before him, that piqued his curiosity. It was his first time, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the unknown, his eagerness to explore and understand the human body, especially your body. Every sensation, every moment, was tinged with the exhilaration of discovery, which led him to continue rocking his fingers into you, not slowing down even when you were a whining mess.

"Baby..." you whimpered. "W-What are you doing?"

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A new surge of pleasure engulfed you, a sensation unlike before. It coursed through your veins like a sweet, intoxicating elixir, so utterly consuming. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, kneading them between your fingers as you felt this unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. It became so overwhelming your body was trying to ignore it, your eyes clenching shut as his fingers continued to pump into you.

"Oh, shit," You gasped. "I-I can't—"

Spencer's eyes flickered between the comments telling him not to stop and the way your body trembled in his arms. His free arm slid around your waist, pulling him into his chest as he gently whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your lack of an answer was enough for him to keep going, digging his fingers deeper inside you, pressing onto that same spot repeatedly. He felt you shaking again, noticing the way your mouth fell apart as you gasped for air.

"I got you," he said softly, his eyes trailing down your body and his fingers between your legs. "Breathe," he instructed, slightly pausing when you clenched around him.

"N-No, don't stop," you begged him. "I can take it."

He curled his fingers again and you arched your back, hips bucking against his hand. "Oh god," you cried out, your voice sounding a little raw. "That's it—fuck, I'm gonna cum again."

He started to speed up, a sound of pleasure leaving his lips when your pussy started to squelch. It didn't take long for you to reach your second high as he doubled his movement, thrusting into you faster. You were shaking uncontrollably, and as you were about to calm your breathing from the overwhelming pleasure, another sensation burned between your legs.

You tipped your head back as it traveled along your body, clamping your thighs together only for him to push them apart again with his other hand. Every touch from him sent shockwaves of ecstasy, making your limbs quiver and your breath hitch. The sensation was so consuming that it turned your thoughts into a mushy, incoherent whirlwind, rendering your mind of rational thoughts.

"F-fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out. The intensity of it overwhelmed you to the point your tears began to flow. "R-right there—"

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Your body trembled uncontrollably, each shiver echoing the overpowering sensations that consumed you, and you couldn't hold it anymore. A harsh whine was torn from your lips as your release rippled through you. You gasped as your cunt began to convulse, a clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs as you cried out, "Spe—"

Spencer grunted as he clamped your mouth with his free hand, stopping you from calling out his name. He quickly pulled his hand and rubbed your clit furiously as he tried to coax more of the liquid from your convulsing body. Your body quivered as his meticulous touch kept you teetering on your high, the pleasure flowing through you as you continued to come undone.

He watched as your chest rose up and down, your perky breasts moving every time you tried to calm your breathing. Your body was still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you didn't want your viewers to see you in your most vulnerable state, at least not now when you were still trying to comprehend what just happened. So you sat up and quickly turned off your stream before you glanced at your drenched sheets and the mess you splattered across your desk.

“I- I’ve never—” You were shocked, the sensation completely new to you. "That... that never happened to me before."

You could hear the triumph in his voice as he replied, "Really?"

You were torn between amusement at his gloating and embarrassment at your own overwhelming experience. You turned your head to see him sitting there, grinning sheepishly at you. Your eyes flickered between his legs, noticing the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, and even by the shadow of it, you could tell his size was bigger than you anticipated.

It didn't take long for you to make a move, really, because he was staring at you with doe eyes filled with lust and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing onto his lap, earning a moan from his lips as you settled right on top of his cock. Your wetness covered him and it took a lot of self-control for him not to pounce at you right at this moment.

"Hey, Spence?" Your voice was sweet, the tone of it reminded him of the way you had asked him to join you when you both stood in the kitchen. His ears perked up as he held you by your waist.

"Yeah?"

You smiled down at him.

"What do you think about losing your virginity?"

He had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

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laiiaaa · 10 months

Text

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.”

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…”

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

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