#I can't take it what the fuck they are so good

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

#lmaoooo #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #its a milkmaid dress for sure #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #unedited

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x f! reader

[thefantasyden]

Stray Kids reaction to different sub types

Now, the sub types I chose for each member are all different, but I hope you'll enjoy none the less.

Smut warning as always.

Chris:

Puppy Subs

Non Sexually: I think Chris is a great fit for puppy subs! Eager for affection, ready to please.

Chris would be a little confused at first, not really sure how to interact with you until he realises he can, in fact, just treat you like a dog.

He'd be so happy coming home to you, petting your hair, and asking if you've been good today. He almost always bring you home some kind of snack or treat because he always sees things that make him think of you.

He would low-key love the way you cling to him in public and your annoyed grumbles when you started getting sleepy or wanted more attention. CHAN PUPPY SUB LOVER he just thinks they're so cute.

Sexually: he loves the kind of sex that he doesn't have to think for, and a needy puppy in heat caters to that perfectly. Not to mention the breeding kink!

There's nothing that makes him cum quite as hard as rambling to his puppy about how he's gonna breed them as a reward for taking him so well and hearing you whine out your desperate pleas in response.

"Ohhhh my puppy. You want a bone, huh? C'mere."

Minho

Innocent Sub

Non Sexually: Minho would LOVE an innocent and obedient sub. One that never really questions what he's doing because they trust him that much. There's nothing better than being trusted so completely that he can manouver you wherever he wants and give you any task knowing you'll complete it without complaint.

He's on it from the go, testing out your submission by giving you the most random tasks at all times of the day.

Min likes these types even more because he can do anything he wants and people won't think twice because you appear to be so sweet. They don't question when he slots his thigh between yours and spreads your legs with his or when he pulls you down onto his lap out of nowhere, and that thrills him.

Sexually: He loves rewarding you. He doesn't need to have a real reason because he can just make one up. Half the time you can't understand why brushing your teeth or folding your laundry has earned you the opportunity to be spread out on his bed so he can devour you like he was made for it, but you won't complain.

He'll tease you endlessly, too. A good mix of feathery touches that tickle your skin and firm groping that both grounds you and knocks all thought from your brain. Constantly making you tell him that you like what he's doing, because it sounds songood in your slightly confused, dazed voice.

"Uh uh, use your words. Tell me how good I make you feel and then you can cum."

Changbin:

'Alpha' Sub

Non Sexually: This isn't controversial in any way, but Binnie wouldn't love a sub who also commands respect around others. He let's you wear the pants in public, no questions asked because it makes him proud to see how people are slightly scared of you because of your take no shit attitude.

If anyone guessed, they might even think he was the sub in your relationship with the way you boss him around, but he knows the second he asks you to do something you'll be jumping to make it happen. You're actually very obedient and well trained.

Sexually: He can't help but get turned on when you're being all commanding and strong. It's the contrast that does it for him, and he'll have you kneeling in front of him as soon as you're alone, massinging your scalp with a firm grip onnyour hair as you nuzzle at his thigh, dreamy sighs blessing his ears.

You're the kinda sub that he can fuck dumb really easily and he uses that to his advantage. Every. Single. Time. He's God great control so he won't cum until he's make you cum around his cock a few times, and even then he's going multiple rounds. He knows you'll take it every time.

"There's my baby. I know you can take the whole thing. You don't need to think about it, ok?"

Hyunjin:

Princess Sub

Non Sexually: Hyune loves a princess because he loves to dress you up and show you off, but not in the same way one would with a bimbo. Nom Hyunjin likes having the most beautiful, untouchable person in the room wrapped around his fingers.

He would appreciate the way a Princess Sub carries themselves. They know their worth, and they don't settle, so he gets to revel in the fact that you chose him and continue to choose him every day. You've deemed him worthy of your submission, and that's everything to him.

Sexually: His favourite thing is to fuck his Princess fully clothed. Both of you. The neediness of it, the dishevelled appearance you come out with. Something about ruining you really gets him going and once he starts, he can't stop.

He gets off on knowing that you're seen as someone that nobody could live up to, yet you're doing filthy depraved things for the sole purpose of his pleasure, and of course returning the favour tenfold.

"Look at you. God, you're a masterpiece, you know that?"

Han:

Slutty Subs

Non Sexually: he loves the clinginess. The way you always want to be close to him, on him.not only is the physical pressure of your body in his something he finds incredibly soothing and grounding, but he always thrives when he feels wanted and craved in the way you show.

It's hard for him not to blush and feel a little awkward when you insist on longer kisses and sitting on his lap despite the free seat next to him, but he really does adore it. Even when your hands start wandering a little too much.

Sexually: The NEEDINESS. God, having you begging for him any time you're alone drives him wild. He's capable of being calm. Don't get me wrong. But when you rile him up, all bets are off and he's taking you over the nearest surface.

Also, lots of CASUAL sex. Cockwarming during movies, fingering you when he's scrolling through his phone, your warm mouth wrapped around his cock when he's working. It's a strange sort of affection thing between you and the intimacy is the most important part of sex for Sungie, so he kind of loves that it's more about you showing how much you love and need him then just you hunting for an orgasm.

"Ah, fine! You can put it in your mouth, but no moving until I say so."

Felix:

Experienced Subs

Non Sexually: Felix and experienced subs are a matched made in heaven. He's curious about so many things and the fact that you're able to teach him how to do them means you get to turn him into your perfect Dominant, which is really all he's aiming for.

Felix is thrilled at how easily you'll bring up a new kink or a new toy and how quickly he's able to pick up from you, but even more than that, he's thrilled that you'd even bother to guide him.

He takes a special interest to after care if we're being frank. He loves to succeed at pushing you into a place of bliss and then soak up how song and pliant you are, snuggling you into his chest and fawning over you.

Sexually: The way you're able to figure out what he needs and give it to him will never fail to have him fucking you into the mattress. After a while of experimenting and becoming more comfortable with his own dominance he'd find himself craving it and he doesn't really know how to deal with that, so you just sink to your knees beside him when he's playing games and let him run his fingers through your hair and it sends a simultaneous rush of pride and heat straight to his cock.

He likes that you're not afraid to be vocal about what you want and need. He takes note of everything you like and everything that makes you moan a little louder and uses it against you until he's mastered to art of switching you into sub space with very little effort.

"You need me to take care of you, huh? Come on, I know you do. Let me make you feel good."

Seungmin:

Soft Brat Sub

Non Sexually: Hear me out, okay. I think Minnie would adore the playful side of a soft Brat. He loves that you give his attitude right back to him and toe the line of too far without ever crossing it. You're never disrespectful of the authority you chose to give him, but you're ready to call him out when he's wrong and he likes that.

He gets really giggly and happy when you tease him back, always flirting with him and reminding him of the effect he has on you. He almost expects it, and he'll be sad if you suddenly stop.

Sexually: Seungmin likes a little power struggle. He teases you harder when you resist, slowing his thrust until it's just a lazy roll of his hips against yours because he knows you'll break easily. The fact that he gets to 'break' you, but it has very little resistance, is actually nice for him because he doesn't want to feel like he's fighting to earn your respect constantly.

When you finally do give up your faux resistance, he makes sure to reward you. He'll almost always hold your hands while he pounds into you, kissing your nose and telling you how easy you make it for him. He's big on the affection when you fuck.

"That's it. Give in to it. I know it feels good. You can have more if you give up."

Jeongin:

Prey Subs

Non sexually: Our sweet innie is positively beaming when he sees flashes of worry in your eyes. He knows you're not scared of him. You're just eager for him, and it's fun to him. He loves to catch you off guard and startle you by grabbing your hips and pulling you close to him.

You love it too, of course. Innie is big on consent, and he wouldn't be wrapping his pretty hand around the base of your throat when he kisses your cheek unless he was positive you liked it.

He also likes to poke and prod at you just a little. The playful bullying is a big part of your dynamic and a way he shows his affection whilst reminding you of your place.

Sexually: The chase is everything. On special occasions you'll find yourself playing hide and seek through your apartment building, and it's led to you fucking in the gym more than once. He doesn't really understand why hunting you is so hot, but he's thirsty for it.

When he's not hunting you, he's manhandling you. It's not always rough, but he's always caging you in somehow. His body wrapped around yours, his hand pressed firmly in the middle of your back, your thighs pushed up to your chest. He doesn't really think about it much. He just knows he needs to take you, and he can't help but get a little aggressive.

"Baby, when I find you, I promise I'm gonna be fucking you on the nearest flat surface."

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #lee know smut #chan smut #i.n smut #han smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #chan x reader

[cupid-styles]

a helping hand*

in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)

this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 

“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”

“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”

He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 

“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”

“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”

“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”

“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Harry…”

“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 

“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”

“There could be.”

She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 

At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 

He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 

Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.

(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)

Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 

She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.

(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)

Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.

The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.

Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 

It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 

Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 

Until now. 

Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.

“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.

“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”

“Just spit it out, blossom.”

She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”

“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”

Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 

Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.

“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”

Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 

“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”

“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”

She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”

“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”

“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”

“So how long has it been?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.

“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”

“Six months?!”

The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 

“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”

“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 

“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”

“They should be, Y/N.”

With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 

“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”

His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 

“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”

Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”

Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.

“If you wanted me to be.”

She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 

“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”

He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”

. . .

A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?

In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 

He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 

At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?

He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 

Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.

He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 

I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.

Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.

Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 

“Hello?”

She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”

“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 

Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 

“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”

She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 

“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”

“What were you watching?”

“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”

“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 

A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”

“What’s hot about it for you?”

He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 

“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”

“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”

It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.

“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”

“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”

Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 

“Well, now you are.”

She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.

“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.

“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”

Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.

“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”

“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”

A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 

“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”

Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”

On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 

“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 

When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 

She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 

“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”

“Yeah? You finished?”

If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.

“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”

Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”

She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #one direction #harry's house #hs4 #fineline #harry styles smutty imagine #harry styles smutty fic

[rafeandonlyrafe]

barrys girl

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, protected sex (yayyy!), open relationship, barrys girlfriend!reader, curvy!reader, mentions of drugs and guns, mention of possible/future threesome

“come on, bears.” you coo, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders as you call him by your favorite nickname. “you should go easy on him.”

“and why should i do that princess?” barry looks up to you, away from the scared teen shivering on the opposite couch.

“he's cute.” you coo, smiling at rafe, and then back at barry. “pleeease, bears.”

“fine.” he growls out. he doesn't mind your open relationship, it allows him to sleep around too, knowing he always has you to come back home to. the only time he doesn't appreciate it is when it gets in the way of his business deals.

“you're the best.” you press your lips against barrys, giving him a passionate kiss, putting on a full display for rafe, still worried about the money he owes, but now confused as well.

“come on.” you say, and it takes rafe a second to realize you're talking to him.

“what's going on?” he asks, long eyelashes fluttering.

“barry is gonna forgive what you owe as long as you fuck me. that is, if you want to fuck me?”

rafe looks you up and down. despite being confident with women, he can admit when someone is out of his league, and just by the way your shorts cling to your ass, he knows this is a rare opportunity.

“of course i want to.” he jumps up, knees bumping into the coffee table, making the glasses rattle.

“well thank barry then come on.” you walk into the bedroom, waiting for rafe to follow.

“isn't that your girlfriend?” rafe whispers, keeping his voice down in case you hear.

“yeah. so fuck her good, man.” barry waves him away, ready to move onto other business now that rafe is taken care of.

“thanks.” rafe says, quickly moving into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. he takes a deep breath of relief for not having to explain yet again why he can't pay barry back.

“all good sugar?” you ask, southern accent barely licking the edges of your words, just enough to tell rafe you're not exactly from these parts.

“yeah-” rafes eyes focus, and there you are, on the bed completely naked, large tits and thick thighs all on display for him to see.

“don't be shy.” you smile softly. rafe takes a minute to admire the gorgeous features of your face, your dark eyebrows and full, rosy lips, before his eyes move lower, catching on where your legs meet.

“you gonna fuck me or what?” you spread your legs, and rafe swears he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, bare, pink, and juicy wet for him.

rafe is aware of your eyes on him as he quickly undresses, wishing he would have worked out this morning just to have even more muscles on show for you.

by the time rafe pushes his underwear down his thighs, he's already hard.

you smile approvingly at his cock before tossing a condom at him. barry is the only one who gets you raw, and same with him with other girls, it's just the code you agreed upon.

rafe slides the rubber over himself, moving over to kneel on the bed when suddenly barry bursts through the door.

“chill, country club, just gotta grab something.” he laughs when seeing the scared look on rafes face, worried he fell into some sort of trap. barry goes over to the dresser, pulling a gun out and tucking it into the back of his shorts.

“ill be back, baby.” barry now addresses you. “gotta go take care of somethin’.”

“okay, be safe bears. rafey will keep me company until you're back.” 

barry leans over the bed, unfazed by how naked you are, or rafes still hard cock resting against your bare cunt. he presses a kiss against your lips, just like he always does before leaving.

his eyes move down your body, definitely going to have to fuck you when he gets home. “so, that's what you're working with country club.” barry chuckles as rafes hands scramble to cover his cock.

“leave him alone, barry.” you roll your eyes, giving his chest a shove.

“alright, alright.” barry backs out with his hands raised, shutting the door behind him.

“he's just being a dick. still wanna fuck? if you don't i won't make you.” you sit up, placing a hand on rafes shoulder. “and i won't tell barry anything. he'll still forgive whatever you owe.”

“i-i still wanna fuck you.” rafes hands move away and you can see he's even harder after having barry see him. you make a mental note to remember that for later, for the next debt rafe inevitably ensues like all addicts do. 

you nod, flipping over onto your hands and knees. you lower your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to rafe.

his large hands grip your plump bottom, pushing your thighs farther apart to look at your pussy again.

“gonna eat it first?” you giggle, swaying your hips from side to side. “or you just enjoying the view?”

rafe doesn't answer, simply swipes a finger through your folds and brings it to his mouth, moaning when he tastes the wetness on his tongue. he wastes no more time, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in steadily.

“fuck, that's good.” you moan, pressing your face into the mattress to silence your moans as rafe begins to move.

his eyes stay on your ass, watching the way your skin ripples with his every thrust.

“you're so hot.” rafe mumbles, making you laugh against the bedsheets, pushing yourself up to your hands as you begin to move back against rafe, meeting his thrusts.

“fuck, y/n.” you love the way your name sounds on rafes lips as his hands move up to your waist, holding you there by your soft flesh.

“harder.” you moan out. “harder, please.” 

rafe listens instantly, increasing the pace and how deep his thrusts are going, not holding back as he pounds into you.

“yeah, like that!” you moan out, listening to rafes grunts over your shoulder as he fucks you, gaining confidence with every movement.

rafe moves one hand to your ponytail, gripping your curls between his fist as he pulls your head back, making you let out a sensual whine.

“you like that?” rafe questions, hips pumping into you, but it's clear by your moans and the gush of wetness to your pussy that you like the way it feels.

rafe keeps one hand on your waist to keep you pulling back against him, not allowing you to stop or slow down, even as your legs begin to tire.

“gonna-gonna have barry watch next time.” you say, knowing it will only spur rafe on more. “then you can watch him fuck me.”

“yeah?” rafe moves faster, knees digging into the bed. “you like being passed around like a slut? might as well invite all my friends to have a go at you as well.”

“do they also owe barry money?” you joke, letting out a breathy laugh before it turns into a gasp as rafe tugs at your ponytail.

“god, you feel so- fucking warm.” rafe gasps out.

“gonna cum for me?” you question, feeling rafes cock swell inside of you.

“y-yeah.” it only takes a few more thrusts for rafe to cum with a loud moan of your name, pushing his hips as far forward as he can despite the condom blocking him from spilling inside of you.

“fuck.” rafe pulls out, regretting being finished. 

you flip over onto your back, head against the pillows with a soft, sleepy smile on your face. “you were good rafe.”

“i was good?” rafe laughs. “you… your body is incredible.”

you watch as rafe discards of the condom before putting his clothes back on.

“barry will want you to stay until he's back, do you want a snack?” you ask, getting up from the bed, still naked as rafe follows you out of the bedroom.

you eat and chat idly while waiting for your boyfriend to return, rafes eyes occasionally dropping to your tits, or watching your ass when you bend down to pick something up.

“baby, im home!” barry yells, slamming the door shut behind him as he smirks at you, seeing you completely naked and rafe still there with flushed cheeks.

“missed you, bear.” you coo, giving him a kiss that quickly turns passionate as he grips your ass, pulling you against him. by the time you're done kissing your boyfriend and need to pull away for a breath, rafe has already disappeared out of the house.

--

“where have you been dude?” kelce asks as soon as rafe arrives at the country club for their round of golf.

“dude, you'll never believe it. i just hooked up with barrys girlfriend.” rafe watches kelces face as he processes the news.

“wait, like the super thick baddie? i don't believe you, dude.” kelce rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bro.” rafe doesn't need kelce to believe him, not when he got to experience you for himself.

“come on.” rafe calls, grabbing his clubs. “we're already late!”

#guys this is season 1 rafe you have to picture season 1 rafe when reading this thank you #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble

[unstable-kuro]

Ride it.

Context: you ride their cock like there is no tommorow.

Warning: mdni, reader has no gender here, some unchecked grammar mistakes.

Author's note: I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING OFFLINE FOR A LONG TIME HELP-

God, how long has it been already since you were in this position? You don't remember but all you know is that it feels so fucking good. It's a sinful pleasure but a pleasure you want so badly right now that you no longer have self control over yourself.

You already had more than four orgasms but your desire is not melted that easily, you want more. You want that cock stuffed inside you and ride it for hours and hours to come even if you had to beg for it. And here you are right now. Panting and moaning while still not willing to stop because it's them you are taking. Not some random guy on the street you met and decided to have a hookup no, it's someone special you care about.

"still not tired huh?" They said with a slight smirk on their facing already knowing the answer "no! please..just one more..?" You give them a pleading look. A look that they can't deny no matter what.

"Well darling, who am I to refuse your little desires?" They said as they held your hips up, ready to start another round.

"come on, ride it."

A long night of sinful pleasure it is then.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Ayato, Pantalone, Childe, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Adventurine + your favs☆

#honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #jing yuan smut #smut scenarios #genshin impact #genshin smut #adventurine x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #zhongli smut #diluc smut #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #sunday x reader #pantalone x reader

[galedekarios]

gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x gale #gale x karlach #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #ch: karlach #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #i wanted to focus on a dynamic where a friend/partner focuses on gale #bc from what i see very often #that is neglected entirely #and often focuses more or completely on what gale can do for another #anyhow i love them

[quimichi]

≡;- ꒰ °HOW THEY EAT YOU OUT ꒱ - MDNI

Pt. 1

TW: sexual content,

SUMMARY: how 6 hsr guys eat you out ♡

CHARACTERS: Argenti, Arlan, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill & Caelus x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 812

Argenti

“Yes, that's it my rose. I don’t think i will ever get tired of this sight.”

Despite how he many times he's seen you like this - Argentis cheeks will flush a beautiful red and his chest is rising and falling quickly. You are utterly beautiful. His fingers pushe more slick out of you, and he can’t help but lean in to lap it up, humming at the taste of you along his taste buds that the movement grants him.

“Such a delightful taste....hah- is this all it takes to make yoi quiver?” he can't help but close his eyes as he buries himself deeper between your folds. You're ’re so sensitive. His fingers keep their pace and when you throb around his slender digits he can’t help but moan into you, he feels it just like you. “Don't be scared my love, as your boyfriend it's my duty to make you cum.”

Arlan - aged up!

“oh-!” he's doing all this for the first time, he can't help but be just as surprised with his actions like you. You have to bite your lip, he's way to cute right now, and does it way to well.

Arlans nose knocks against your clit a second later, followed by him lewdly slurping at the bundle of nerves like he’s kissing it better from the soreness.

He felt like he is on cloud nine and it only makes him feel even better when he feels you begin to tense. You're so close, he can feel it, and hear it. It’s almost immediate the way he feels your thighs begin to wrestle against him as you desperately try to close your legs at the pure pleasure.

“Gonna make you cum, gonna make you cum real good”

Aventurine

You feel the way he smiles against your pussy, teasingly. He knew he'd make you beg for it in under 5 minutes. “heh- now that was easy, wasn't it.” he sends another kiss against your clit, breathing heavy against your folds as his fingers move to spread you open, making more space for him. God, sometikes he just wants to shove his faces as deep as he can into your wet and warm pussy and stay there.

His eyes are on you the entire time, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks from bottom to top again, smirking like a mad man.

“Damn, loon at you darlin', all puddy in my hands."

Blade

“What did i tell you? Hold fucking still.” Blade grits his teeth. He pulls away from your wet cunt to glare up at you, lowkey makes you scared. You’re so close, so damn close, the last thing you want is him pulling away. With the last bit of self control you got left, you try your best not to squirm around. You know better than to disobey him.

He’s messy and merciless when he eats your pussy. Hes covered, nose to chin with your juices. He closes his lips around your clit, giving it a harsh suck. He’s exploring your pussy with his tongue before it’s swirling around your clit with the purpose of prolonging your blissful state, watching you with heavy eyes as he feels himself get turned on by the expression on your face. You can't help but whine, you want to cum.

"Patience...patience..."

Boothill

His arms wrapped around your thighs leaving you helplessly trapped in this sick game of him over stimming you till you can’t anymore. Tears couldn’t help but fall from your eyes as you begged him that it was just “t-too much”. But you weren’t convincing enough. After all your hips were bucking into his face when you were just so close to cumming again, leaving you whiny and breathless after each time.

Can't be to much when you're this needy — “f-fuck.. i c-can’tplease” your voice shaking, desperately you run your hands through his soft hair to pull him even closer despite your words.

“what a fucking liar you are...”

Caelus

The way his fingers come down on your clit, slapping the bud quickly, he stares at you from between your thighs. He’s watching the way your pussy swallows up two of his fingers.

“You truly are so pretty.” Caelus whispers almost love drunk. You feel too hot, you're sweating, like he’s worshipping you from where he’s resting on his knees at the end of the bed, leaving your hips to hang from the mattress so he can have you. He holds your thighs in his hands, gripping them hard so he can contain himself. He feels like hes getting mad, crazy at your taste. His tounge fucks itself in and out of your hole, almost like it has a mind on its own. His eyes roll back into his skull, is he liking this more than you?

"More, want more of you, pretty girl."

TAGLIST: @hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @theblades

Wanna be added to my taglist? Scream HERE! and next time I'll add you! Moots only ♡

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #arlan x reader #caelus x reader #blade x reader #boothill x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #x female reader #x fem!reader #x f!reader

[lovifie]

Hiii 🩷

I really loved your ‘Mr & Mrs. Price’ story where his partner he is marrying is younger than him! I was wondering if you had anymore of those stories?

If not, I was wondering if you could write a little after they get married sort of thing. Like would they have kids right away, etc.

Thank you!!

Hi love!! 🩷🩷 Thank you for asking so nicely 💕

At the moment I don't have anything else written for Price and her younger wife, so I'll write you a little bit of what I thought would happen after the wedding.

A continuation to Mr. & Mrs. Price

The first thing would be the honeymoon, and Price gives me the vibes to go somewhere cold, like the Norwegian Fjords (? I don't know why, he just does. Constantly clinging to his wife like: "I'm cold, dear. Can't you see?" Only to sneaky get his hands under your clothes.

Friends and family complain about how little photos you took, but it's just because most of what you took, were taken inside your room. So many, so many pictures of his hand on your body, the gold band on his finger shining on all of them.

So much fluffy/dirty talk. "My dear, wifey... See? I told you I was going to marry you one day, and look at you, Mrs.Price... so fucking beautiful under me..."

Neither of you are surprised when a couple of months later you get a positive pregnancy test.

"We used protection..." Price says, as if that would change something.

"Yeah... Until we run out, Mr. I Pulled Out." You say.

Having a child so quickly after the wedding was neither of your plans, but Price was already talking about taking a step back from the dangerous mission and for some reason neither of you were panicking after the news.

It was a weird feeling, at first at least. But on the doctor appointment, when you hear the little alien's heartbeat it was set. Price's hand holding yours, the whole way back home.

He did step back from the dangerous mission, working at base helping the recruits and helping on the small missions, not wanting to be far from you. So he spent his working hours at base, and one day he forgot some documents at home and asked if you could bring them to him.

So you did.

You grabbed the folder, and drove your pregnant self to base.

Ghost was the one who saw you first, almost as you stepped off the car. And he was immediately on your side, stunned when he saw your belly.

"Are you..." He asked, not wanting to be rude; looking from your stomach to your face.

You quickly nod, the man's eyebrows disappearing under his mask. He took the folder from your hands, as if it was a heavy piece of furniture you were holding making you laugh. "Congratulations... That's what people say, right?"

You nod again, holding onto his arm to ease his mind as you walk towards Price's office. Small talk about how you were planning a baby shower and if he would like to assist, the panic clear on his face making you chuckle again.

"I'm pulling your leg, Simon. I'll send you a message with the important news." You say, patting his arm.

"And I will be forever grateful for it." He says, slowly falling in a comfortable chat with you.

Gaz and Soap walk out of Price's office just as you turn the corner. Both their expression of shock.

"Captain!" Soap calls him, annoyed with just finding out. "Ye got yer missus pregnant already? Ye filthy dog."

Price furrows his eyebrows, walking out and smiling widely. Quickly walking to you to give a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on your tummy.

"How are my girls doing, sweetheart?" He asks, Simon hearing it perfectly.

"Girls? You are having a baby girl?" He asks, making Gaz and Soap repeat it as echo.

You chuckle again, taking the fold from Ghost's hand and handing it to Price. "We are doing great today, John. Here's the documents, Simon wouldn't let me hold them myself."

"Good lad." He says, nodding at the mancunian making you shake your head.

Unlike Ghost, Gaz actually asks you about the baby shower and if he can assist. Price doesn't say anything, but he is really glad he offered; having now a familiar face at the party.

And even though only Gaz assists in person, he brings a present. "From Ghost, Soap and I, hope the girly likes it. Whenever she uses it."

He says that because the gift is a bright pink toy car for the baby to drive around.

Price complains about the safety of it, but later at night when everyone is gone he sits on the sofa, looking at you drive the car yourself talking about how you always wanted one as a kid. And Price is not sure how he got this lucky in life.

#john price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #call of duty #cod x reader #cod #cod smut #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty smut #captain price #price

[front-facing-pokemon]

#galarian slowpoke #picture this. this was the first pokémon revealed from the new DLCs for pokémon sword and shield. the pokémon company #up until this point‚ has never done DLC for a pokémon game before. you‚ having been jaded by shitty DLCs for other games in the past #now have a distaste for the phrase‚ and imagine this can't be good. then‚ in their teaser for the new DLC‚ they add a little event #into the game where they reveal one of the new pokémon that is going to be added in the DLC #and it is a galarian form. that is identical to the original pokémon. but with a yellow head #are you imagining it. now how fucking disappointed are you. how little faith do you have in that DLC that it's going to be as good as it wa #for the most part‚ the pokémon company has demonstrated that they do absolutely excellent DLCs. proper expansions #basically an entire other game on top of the game you already have. and they typically take up the release cycle of a full game #scarlet/violet's especially. WONDERFUL dlc. i never really properly finished the crown tundra just because i was so late to the party #because i avoided buying the dlc for so long because of this experience that i've just described to you #that by the time i bought it and played it‚ it was just because SV had been announced and i wanted more pokémon to tide me over #and i never finished it. one of these days‚ i'd like to go back and finish it‚ but i'm playing through pokémon xd gale of darkness right no #and i prefer to play. one game at a time. and i don't know when i'll ever really get back to it #or if i'll ever get back to it! 'cause without resetting my save file all the way i'll just have to Remember what it is that already happen #which i'm. notoriously bad at when it comes to coming back to games that i haven't played in a while #plus i know sv is like shitty performance or whatever but the movement in that game is so much better #it feels so much more freeing than going back to gen 8 where you can still just. run. and that's it #i know nobody likes scarlet/violet but i still. like it. performance aside. like yes the performance is terrible but i still had a great #time with it. i just praised its DLC for fuck's sake! its DLC was fuckin wonderful! it has kieran in it so it like can't be bad

[shotmrmiller]

damn ok but before uf!konigs big arse makes an appearance, i need reader to get spicy. it's out of the norm, you're usually pretty collected and tend to only snap your teeth at johnny because he's a fucking creep simon, don't leave me here alone with him

but now everyone's feeling your wrath, even john who you never snarl at because you know your place in the food chain so late one night, simon comes out of the shower, drying his hair only to spot you pacing in the kitchen, mumbling to yourself and he thinks that's quite enough.

whatever the fuck that is ends now.

he corners you, literally, and cages you in with his arms on either side of you.

what the fuck is your problem? (simon, while a killer, knows so much better than to say what other idiots would.)

you avert your eyes, looking over his shoulder, flicking your gaze up to the ceiling, your feet-- anywhere that isn't him because his sunken eyes are gonna slice through whatever lie you're about to spin up.

look at me.

he grabs you by the cheeks hard enough that your lips puckering slightly.

talk.

how are you to tell him you're sexually pent up! you forgot to pack your toy when moving out and now you're stuck with just your fingers and it isn't doing the job--

that it?

oh, man. you said that out loud. you're so out of sorts you can't tell when you're thinking and when you're talking. and what the hell does he mean that it?

he tells you that the both of you are fixing that up today, to take of your bottoms or he'll tear them off you himself and to sit on the bloody couch.

legs open. wider. what're you blushin' about? you're mine anyway. is it johnny? he's stayin' out f'the nigh', go' some business with price. hands on your pretty cunt. go on. do it or i will.

good. touch your-- why are ya wincin'? is it dry? here, gimme ya hand.

simon's saliva has been pooling in his mouth since he saw your naked sex.

try it now. good? good. now let me see how you touch yaself.

*wheeze*

simon being a pal and not pointing out how you obeyed him without question because if you don't know that you like to be ordered about, he ain't telling ya.

oh my god the walk of shame to prices office the next day once simon wrings out all of your ire with his fingers. the stare he gives you when you mumble out an apology. the once over he gives you before shifting his gaze over to simon, who's throwing down with kyle in the ring.

right. not an issue, love. next time you're tha' irritable, you can come to me.

simon didn't hear that but laswell did, and she pulls you to the side telling to not, under any circumstance, tell simon what john just said to you.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

[dodgeirs]

⊹ ᳝ ࣪ overstimulation with spencer reid.

cw. 16+, oral (blowjob m!reciving), sub!spencer & dom!reader, imagined with early season two spence w glasses <3

wc. 534

“mhm-” he whimpered. “i- hm, fuck-”

both of spencer’s calloused hands grip at the soft edge of the couch. his form was once standing, but he quickly became seated the moment your mouth got onto. he doesn't know how long ago that was, and he's quickly lost track of the amount of times you've made him come.

“please- i can't.” he cries, the sensitivity from the previous rounds still linger fresh. a comes up to settle upon your head, but doesn't pull you up.

you look up at spencer through your damp lashes from the feeling of his touch. swirling your wet tongue around his tip, one hand soothing up his thigh and the other pumping whatever you couldn't take. spencer looked so pretty like this, eyes screwed shut, whimper and whines falling from his mouth, various strands of hair sticking to his forehead, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose from sweat.

coming off his tip with pop. you continue to pump him, his previous arousal being enough to act as a lube.

“what was that, handsome?” you ask, still looking up at him. wanting to hear that magic word again.

“ple-”

you frown, hands instantly removing themselves from spencer’s body. his hips buck upward at your retreat.

“wha-”

“you open your eyes when you speak to me. right, baby?” you cut him off. the two of you don't have explicit rules in your relationship, but spencer looking you in the eyes when telling you what he wants has always been an unspoken one.

“yes.”

you hum at his response. “so, why are your eyes still closed then?”

spencer’s eyes instantly shot open, big, droopy, and hazy. you smile.

“that’s better. you know i like look at you.”

“i know. it’s too much.” he whines.

“i know, i know. but, tell me what you want. y’know i’ll give you anything you ask for.”

spencer’s breath hitches, you returned to slowly pumping him again. and you begin to kiss up his shaft, proud to see that by the time you reach his tip to look back at him he's still still looking at you.

“go on, baby. tell me what you want. say the magic word.” you encourage.

“please, i- i need your mouth. i need to cum. please?” his last please comes out trivial and his brows furrow from the increase pumping on his cock.

smiling once more at your boy. “so good.” is all you say before you attach yourself back onto his length. bobbing your head to take as much as him as you could.

drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, you normally keep clean, for spencer’s sake. but all in this moment you just wanted to make him cum, and by his increase in pitch of his whimpers and the frequency of his please, he was getting close.

“please- ah, fuck. m’ gonna.” his body finished before he could end his sentence.

swallowing his load and wiping the drool from off your mouth, you take in spencer's exasperated state. pushing yourself from off your knees to hover over spencer’s form. pushing back his damp hair to kiss his forehead.

“don’t think we’re done just yet, pretty boy.”

#ᥫ᭡ dodgeirs writes. #criminal minds #spender reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

[svuguru]

Tags: stepcest!! Guysss I just needed to get smth out so this is a really old draft 😭

"I need you to behave while Satoru and Nanami are here, okay? They should arrive in, maybe, thirty minutes," Suguru says as he turns off the television. You roll your eyes, seated comfortably on the sofa with annoyance painted on your face.

"Whatever," you huff and look away, feigning ignorance. Suguru tilts his head, as if amused or shocked—maybe both.

"Repeat that for me?" Suguru takes a few steps closer, leaning over the headrest of the sofa in which you sit.

"I said, whatever!"

What a grave mistake.

"Sugu—!" You whine, pulling at the armrest of the sofa as Suguru pounds into you from behind, his jeans lowered down to his ankles and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"What? What's wrong, hm?" Suguru pants and sticks sinks his teeth into his bottom lip absentmindedly, eyes intently watching the way you suck him in. You throw your head forward, deep breaths and loud moans leaving your throat.

Suguru has bunched up your skirt to your waist, your panties wrapped around your ankles. You're quiet, no answer whatsoever from you. So, Suguru raises his hand up just before landing it on your ass, the sound sharp and surprising.

"What's wrong, hmm?" He repeats, chest heaving with heavy breaths. You gasp, your back arching and pussy clenching around his fat cock from enjoyment. "Aww, you liked that?" Suguru grins menacingly, "didn't know my precious stepsister was so fucking nasty—" and comes another unexpected slap to your poor ass, red painting your flesh.

"Sugu, can't—!" You moan, pushing your ass back despite the sharp stinging in it, hoping to get some more stimulation from Suguru.

"You say you can't, but this pussy is sucking me in so well and so fucking tight," Suguru grunts and thrusts his hips forward, "so dirty for big stepbro, huh?" He laughs, albeit breathy, and sends another smack to your ass, only this time it's gentler. "You're such a brat," he scoffs and pulls your hips back to meet his, the sound of his balls against your skin creating a soft echo.

"No, 'm not a brat!" You whimper and look back over your shoulder at him, a pout drawn on your lips.

"Yeah? Then what are you?" The tip of Suguru's dick hits places in you you didn't even know existed, and just as you're about to come up with some snark remark, Suguru bends over your body and stretches his legs out just a bit, pulling his cock out just until only the tip is in and shoving it back into your warm, tight cunt.

"Ah, ah, Sugu!" Your acrylic nails dig into the soft sofa, your moans high pitched and whiny. Suguru leans down to plant wet kisses on your shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he looks at your flushed face and knitted eyebrows.

Another strong thrust into your pussy has your breath hitching and pussy drooling, coating his dick. Throwing your head back, your tits bounce from the impact.

"Want Satoru and Nanami to walk in and see what a dirty girl you are, huh?" Suguru murmurs and the thought has you pulsing around his cock, biting your lower lip. "Aww, such a dirty little baby..." He laughs. "Come on, precious stepsister, you're doing so good f'me..." Suguru whispers into your ear, his voice deep and sensual. You turn your head away, huffing.

"Sugu, y'so mean!" But despite your apparent fury, your cunt squeezes his cock, tight. Your ass bounces with every sharp fuck of Suguru's hips, boobs squished against the armrest of the sofa.

"Apologize, baby," Suguru says but it has this certain strictness to it, followed by another slap to your ass.

"Uh-uh!" You whine, shaking your head as one of Suguru's hands reach for your tit, squeezing and squishing it, his thumb rolling around your stiff nipple.

Another loud smack.

"Apologize." Suguru says, again, this time with a more firm tone. His cock finally hits that sweet spot inside of you, teasing it repeatedly.

And another loud smack.

"m sorry, Sugu, 'm so sorry!" You whimper, then gasp when Suguru's index and thumb roll around and pull at your nipple.

"That's a good girl," he hums proudly, "'m gonna cum in your pussy, now, 'kay?"

"Mkay, Sugu, please do!" And with that, Suguru releases his heavy load inside of your tight pussy, throwing his head back as he lets out a long, drawn out groan. His hips get lazy, his pace going slow.

Even with heavy eyelids, Suguru opens them to look down at your pussy taking his cum in, the liquid slowly oozing out and dripping down your inner thigh.

Pulling out, he takes your panties and slides them back up your legs, his semen making your panties damp and wet. Suguru pulls away to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips, redoing his belt.

"Learned your lesson, yeah?" Suguru says before pressing a kiss to the back of your head. You nod tiredly, whining faintly, sweaty forehead rested against your forearm.

Suguru wipes his forehead, fixing your skirt and looking at what he's done.

As if on cue, a knock sounds throughout the house.

"Be a good girl and behave now, okay?"

#jjk x fem reader #suguru geto smut #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk smut #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk x reader smut #geto Suguru x reader

[graphicpepsi]

euphoria (nsfw, mdni)

OR: what happens when you and König move in together

Sex. lots of it.

Waking up to his hard dick poking your ass from under the sheets. Waking up to him grinding against the mattress, muttering sweet nothings into his pillow. It's sweet.

You're no exception; König can't count the number of times he's woken up to the feeling of your wet folds grinding against his leg, your eyes shut in an innocent sleep; soft little moans escaping from your lips as you desperately hump at his side.

Neither one of you can help it- his scent drives you fucking crazy, does something to you. And if he groans in his sleep? You're done. Wet and bothered for the next few hours until you either fall asleep or wake him up. (He hasn't let you take care of yourself since moving in)

During the day, his hands are always on you. You could be innocently cooking breakfast one moment, and the next be bent over the counter with no panties and his tongue in your pussy. (Why would you cook breakfast when he could just eat you?)

As much as he loves giving you head, König loves to receive it just as much, and now that you live together you can suck his dick practically whenever. If he's writing up reports at his desk, you're underneath it with his cock stuffed deep in your throat. Sometimes you'll even do it while he's on the phone- licking hot stripes up his veiny dick, watching him try to keep his composure.

It's not like either one of you are clingy, either- you're just making up missed time. Who knows how long it'll be before he's back on deployment? At least, that's what you tell yourself when his mouth is buried in your pussy for the fourth time that day. Not like he's complaining or anything, he basically begs you to let him eat you out.

He loves fucking you against the shower wall, too. Loves watching you struggle to balance taking all of him, loves it when he has to hold you so you don't fall. Adores the way your little moans and whines are drowned out under the sound of the water. Loves the sound your wet skin makes when he slaps it under the water, fucking you till it turns cold and you're both shivering against each other.

When you're on your period, he's the sweetest man ever; always bringing you chocolates, ginger ale, warm pads- you name it. He won't think twice before pouring $50 into your comfort.

The first day you're off it? He acts like a man fucking starved.

"Missed this fucking pussy, all mine."

"Good girl, fuck, such a pretty pussy."

and if you were ever up for it, you know this man has towels ready for some period sex.

"I don't care, mein schatz, I kill people for a living-"

"Little blood won't scare me, doe."

He likes fucking you everywhere. In the shower, over the arm of the couch, on the kitchen floor- anywhere he feels like, basically. He once made you grab the railing of your patio for dear life as he fucked you from behind, the cold autumn air making your nipples pierce through your shirt. (The neighbours won't see anything, right?)

And god, if this man doesn't stop putting your stuff on the top shelves because he thinks it's cute watching you reach for them- you might just kill him.

"Need help, mein engel?"

His voice purrs in your ear, hands gripping your waist and holding you down, preventing you from jumping up anymore.

"I don't remember leaving these on the top shelf, Köni," You sigh, leaning into him as a strong arm casually grabs the chips you were reaching for.

"Hm. Weird." He mumbles, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, comforting the bruises he'd left there just last night.

His scent is everywhere- not that you're complaining. He smells like oak, and pine, and the best cologne you've ever smelt but never seen. Definitely helps when he's not home and the only thing you have is a vibrator and his pillowcase.

But besides all the desperate sex, there's also the pleasant domesticity of living with König. Like when he cooks you food, or when you bake him dessert. When he hands you a towel through the bathroom door after you forgot one. You bringing him hot coffee in the early hours of the AM when he's struggling with work.

Him carrying you to bed after you fell asleep watching Netflix on the couch. You sewing up his mask whenever it gets torn or ripped from battle.

You sitting on the bathroom counter, watching him shave intently because you think he looks hot doing it. Him helping you shave, which always, always ends in sex.

Leaving little notes for him about how handsome he is on the bathroom mirror because you know he's struggled with self-image before. Him leaving hickeys on every stretch mark or insecurity of yours he can find. You're just perfect to him.

Worshipping every scar on that man's body; kissing the ones on his jaw and licking the ones on his chest.

God, you're so head over heels for this man.

A/N: when is it my turn to live with zaddy könig😔😔 i want him primally. like actually i wanna **** him till i literally **** *** and *** from taking his ***** **** & my last sight is his massive ****** ******* me ****.

#konig smut #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #könig cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #cod smut #konig call of duty #konig fanfiction #konig fluff #konig imagine #konig headcanons

[bigification]

Careful What You Wish For

I lay the cheap looking lamp on my bathroom counter as I get ready for a bath. I can't believe I caved and bought it, it's obviously a scam. This stupid lamp isn't gonna grant any wishes, that old man just got some free cash out of me. It doesn't matter, I'll just take a relaxing bath and throw on some Netflix later.

I get undressed and run some hot water into the bath. Some scented candles set the mood for relaxation, and I throw on some music. I dip myself into the warm water, and lay back.

My relaxation doesn't last long however, as a rumbling catches my attention. It's the lamp. It's vibrating with enough force that I can feel it from across the bathroom. Suddenly a purple smoke emerges from the lamp.

"I may grant you one wish." A soft whisper echoes out of the smoke.

What the actual fuck. This isn't possible. Did that guy drug me? Maybe I should just say a wish to see if it's true.

"I wish to be a more mature looking guy who likes sports." I blurt out. I've always hated how much I look like a teenager despite being a full blown adult, so this could fix that. Also I wouldn't mind being a fit guy who likes sports, it wouldn't hurt.

The moment I say it, the smoke starts to travel towards me. All the smoke spirals into my mouth and nose. I should be scared, but it kinda feels nice. A warm feeling sprouts in the core of my body, making me feel relaxed again.

As the smoke fills my body, I feel my muscles twitching. It must be true, my body is changing. My twig like arms thicken, with bulging biceps and defined forearms. My soft hands grow twice as big and fill with rough callouses. My chest puffs out into two juicy pecs and my stomach flattens into a cut six pack. My thighs thicken as I feel my ass plump up. Even my feet look like they've grown a few sizes. I also have to start bending my legs, as Ive become too tall for the bath tub I'm sitting in.

I look at my reflection in the water and see a handsome man in his late twenties. Holy shit, I'm hot! I've got a chiselled jawline with a dark beard covering it. All my features seem more angular, more manly. As I'm observing my reflection, I notice a pelt of dark hair grow all over my body. My chest, my arms, my legs, everywhere is dusted in a coat of hair.

This is everything I wanted. Even the sports. Memories of playing sports all throughout school flood my mind. I especially liked soccer, though I also really liked weight lifting. More memories of my extensive sex life flood my mind, people are almost hypnotised by my good looks.

Just as I'm reminiscing about my past, I remember I should be working out right now. I can't skimp out on my workout routine. I go to get out of the bath and notice I've got my underwear on. Huh, I must have forgotten to take it off before getting in the bath.

As I'm stepping out of the bath, something feels wrong. A warm feeling once again fills my core. I look down and see my six pack fade under a belly of fat. It continues growing until it sags over my underwear. My pecs swell into a pair of man tits, though they still have a solid base of muscle. My arms double in size, though with a soft layer of fat now covering the muscles. My hands thicken until they look like stuffed sausages, as more rough features cover them.

I feel my underwear tighten around my waist as my ass fattens. My thighs thicken until there is no gap between them, and my feet grow many sizes. I even feel my perspective shift higher, as my height increases.

The dark hairs on my body fade to an almost white colour as the hair thickens around my body. As I'm looking down at my body, I notice hair on my head fall to the ground. I look in horror at my reflection in the mirror, I have to duck just to fully see my face. My hairline recedes all the way to the back of my head, leaving me practically bald. My once sharp facial features have softened under a layer of fat. And a double chin has formed under my beard. I look so old.

Though the more I stare at my body, the more familiar it becomes. Memories flood into my mind of my career in soccer. I was a high level player, and a popular one at that. But you age out of professional soccer in your late thirties. I started focusing more on the weight lifting and less on the cardio. There was only so long I could keep that six pack, and turning 50 certainly didn't help with that. I don't mind it though, it makes me feel more manly. And it makes the team I coach more afraid of me.

I snap out of my trance. I grab a towel and start to dry off. Damn I forgot to take off my underwear again, I should get rid of this one anyway, it doesn't fit me anymore. I duck and look at myself in the mirror.

"Lookin good coach." I say as I smile at myself.

I turn to the other side of the bathroom and step on my scale. It reads '350'.

"Damn, I've really let go of myself, huh." I say as I jiggle my gut.

I also measure my height, it reads 6"6. I should have gone into volleyball with the build I had.

I dry off and leave the bathroom. I grab a family sized bag of chips and lay my fat ass down on the couch. I open the tv and it's already on the world cup. I really wouldn't want it any other way.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #male wg #muscle tf #male transformation #age progression