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#I'm waiting impatiently for this season
tarth · 2 years
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"She's pushing at the edges of womanhood. She's "obsessed with masculinity," equating "maleness" to freedom. "She is a person who feels at odds with the way that she is read by the world. [...] It's like she has a doppelgänger. The doppelgänger is herself born male, who has access to all the things that she craves and feels to be hers. [...] In some ways, they're [of] the same fabric, and yet the rules are completely different [for them]."
- Emma D'Arcy for Entertainment Weekly
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warpedpuppeteer · 2 months
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I think I'd keep my expectations low for any Buddie happening this season. Considering it's going to be under a new network and gaining new fans, I think they'll focus on getting fans to get attached to the characters and then see how the reception is and what viewers are expecting before deciding where the show will head to next. Though it would be great if we get pre-Buddie or any inclination that either Buck or Eddie are Not Straight then that's great but I feel like it's best to not expect that much from this season. Just gonna enjoy the fact that my favs are back and chill.
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artoflissa · 1 year
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turns out I'm starting to like sketching digitally after not drawing anything digital for a month
also, I might start rewatching Sandman..... again
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ttbret · 1 year
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How'd I do?
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cursedvibes · 11 months
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Very happy that the trailer includes the two things I care about most in Hidden Inventory
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The Tomb of the Stars looks so good. The lighting, the colours, the ominous music. Too bad we have to wait years until we see the meeting with Tengen animated, not to mention the Yuki vs Kenjaku fight and Kenjaku confronting Tengen's real body. But that's a nice tree. I'm surprised there are lights in the buildings, they looked abandoned to me in the manga. The houses seem to be in a better condition too, but maybe it becomes more obvious in a close-up. Still curious that the ring of buildings looks like there could actually be people there (besides Tengen).
I also like how they depicted Riko's choice to want to continue living and not sacrifice herself. Water and fish imagery coming back in full force. Based on the few seconds we got, it also seems like her current path (merging with Tengen) is shown as equal to drowning, which I think is very appropriate. She would be swallowed by Tengen's ego and nobody aside from another Star Plasma Vessel would be able to hear her, just how nobody can hear your voice underwater. Hidden Inventory is far from my favourite arc, but if we get extra material for or about Riko and/or Tengen, it will definitely make me more invested.
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The back alley scene with Geto looks good too. I really like how they changed the colours, lighting and flow for this season (except why is the rainbow dragon white?), much better than season 1 and makes me look forward to Shibuya. The station and Mechamaru's lair are gonna look so good. Not to mention Mahito's transformations. The clapping that almost sounds like the water of the shower was also a nice touch.
The opening song is kinda meh. Nothing special to me, but so far I also only liked the 2nd opening of season 1 and I usually skip OPs anyway after watching it once. The music before the OP starts sounds much better. I already liked the music for the teaser, which makes me very hopeful for the overall sound of the season, especially for Shibuya. Already much better than the pop songs in season 1.
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paellegere · 3 months
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maybe after i finish season 8 of spn i'll finally bite the bullet and watch hannibal. i'm tired of not knowing what goes on in this show that's so obviously tailored to my specific obscene and deranged tastes
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wikiangela · 1 year
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it's so nice to see Rebecca just have fun and be silly with this guy she just met lmao
this is cute and I love it, and she looks adorable in that dress, and her singing voice always gives me chills, even just this short moment here 😂
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quentinfiletmignon · 6 months
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💙💙💙
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holy shit that ending montage was absolutely beautiful
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fromaliminalspace · 2 years
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okay so, from what we’ve seen from vol2 trailer so far, it kinda looks like the fruity four plus the kids are driving somewhere in the Munsons' trailer could also be Eddie’s van though, doesn’t look large enough to be a trailer so i can be wrong but the point still stands and it got me wondering whether it’d affect the gate to the Upside Down in any way and, if yes, how. theoretically it’d be neat if there was an option to drive to any destination (which in this case appears to be the Creels’ house, with Steve, Robin, and Nancy going there in the Upside Down while Max, Lucas, and Erica reach it in, well, the Upside Up, as Eddie and Dustin guard the gate??) and be able to enter the Upside Down exactly where needed except now that the entire realm is stuck in 1983, the trailer would most likely just remain where it is over there. well, unless two people would drive it in the same place (or not necessarily the same) in the both realms. doesn’t seem to be the case here but an intriguing possibility on its own, at least looks like it for me
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also curious whether it’d be feasible to use walkietalkies between dimensions (or even within just Upside Down) without El’s powers but well ti already got too rambly on here
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thefunniestguy · 5 months
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hang on i'm gonna yell about season2 in the tags more bc now i'm . thinking so much
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reverie-starlight · 1 year
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maybe my dad’s right, maybe i’m not a patient person
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Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.
Word Count: 5107
Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex
A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)
———————————
It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it. 
Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it. 
It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him. 
Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache. 
Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right? 
You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but… 
Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it. 
Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her. 
“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.” 
You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs. 
“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?” 
“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.” 
Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him. 
“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand. 
“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.” 
Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out. 
“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table. 
You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober? 
You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do? 
“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you. 
“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it. 
“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink. 
“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked. 
You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared. 
Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled. 
“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.” 
Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.” 
“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you. 
You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid. 
You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible. 
You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth. 
Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused. 
Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.” 
“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader. 
“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him. 
“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -” 
He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you. 
“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question. 
“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly. 
“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath. 
Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.” 
Oh. 
“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you. 
Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky. 
“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now. 
“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”
“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.” 
You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.
Oh. 
“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you. 
You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental? 
“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command. 
Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile. 
“I think that would be okay,” you whispered. 
His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest. 
He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right? 
“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again. 
Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head. 
Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather. 
He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise. 
Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you. 
His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle. 
Oh, he liked you a lot. 
“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it. 
Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you. 
You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch. 
He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked. 
Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“
“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered. 
——————————————————
You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture. 
There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books. 
You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer. 
He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. 
You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers. 
It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now? 
You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too. 
There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now. 
And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises. 
“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.” 
“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.
“Lot of books,” you pointed out. 
“Yep.” 
You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?” 
Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face. 
You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it. 
Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. 
“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“
“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about. 
You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair. 
Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.
Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low. 
Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star. 
And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled. 
“I want you.”
Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered. 
“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted. 
“I’m fine,” you assured him. 
Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”
“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath. 
Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone. 
“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face. 
You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. 
“My shirt,” he stated. 
“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.” 
“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.
“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips. 
“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again. 
“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.
Spencer just nodded. “All the time.” 
I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.
You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it. 
“Y/N?” 
You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again. 
You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it. 
Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool. 
Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts. 
Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself. 
“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched. 
You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe. 
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat. 
“You-”
“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request. 
“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”
Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood. 
________________________________________
Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right? 
Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.” 
“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight. 
Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him. 
Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?” 
“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.” 
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive. 
You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?” 
Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying. 
“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.” 
“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began. 
You started to smile. 
Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.” 
Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.” 
“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back. 
Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.” 
“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips. 
“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?” 
1K notes · View notes
imthebadguyyy · 3 months
Text
the bridgerton blues
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pairing : anthony bridgerton x reader
fandom : bridgerton
synopsis : it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.
warnings : smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff
a/n : i miss my grumpy viscount!!! happy reading :)
anthony huffed impatiently, foot tapping against the marble floor at bridgerton manor.
the season had begun again, and much to his relief, he would only be a spectator this year, having married the love of his life, lady, well, current viscountess y/n, which meant he didn't have to deal with the frills and fancies of the hawk like mama's in the ton, awaiting the right moment to swoop upon him with their daughters.
but by God, you were taking forever to get dressed and come down to leave for lady danbury's ball. beside him, benedict and colin sat, engrossed in a game of chess, while francesca and eloise lounged on the couch in the drawing room, catching up about life.
his mother was with his darling wife, much to his surprise, helping her get ready for a ball. he had been caught off guard when his mother had bustled in, dressed in a powdery blue gown, and had proceeded to shoo him out of the room.
"what exactly is keeping mama and y/n?" colin asked, brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the chess board.
"if I knew I would tell you brother" anthony mumbled, checking the watch that hung on the golden chain from his waistcoat, smiling as he traced the cover, suddenly hit by a burst of nostalgia, and a surge of fondness for his late father.
he brushed it off when a giggling hyacinth came running down the staircase, leaping into his arms, forcing him to rush to catch her, eyes widening in surprise.
"hyacinth! you must always give me a prior warning or I may not be able to catch you" he chided, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and setting her gently on the ground.
"brother!! wait till you see y/n/n!! she looks like a princess!" his youngest sister exclaimed, almost vibrating with excitement. a shy gregory emerged, blushing a little as he nodded, making the three older bridgerton boys smirk, well aware of his little crush on anthony's wife.
when anthony had first befriended his wife, they had been at a mere age of ten, and anthony had rescued y/n when she had fallen off her horse at a picnic with his family and the cowper's.
ever since then, they had been inseparable, joint at the hip and at the heart.
it was of no surprise to anyone in the ton when finally, ages later, he had announced he was marrying the lady montgomery, or as everyone fondly knew her, "y/n/n"
"why so bashful greg?" benedict jested, watching his youngest brother turn a dark crimson.
"n-nothing" he stuttered out, darting in to see his sisters.
"it's because of y/n! I'm telling you brother, she looks like an absolute angel!" hyacinth chirped in, now bouncing about from step to step, just as the door of Anthony's room creaked open, and the dowager viscountess stepped out.
"she's ready" she smiled warmly at her son's, hurrying in to get her daughters to mark the momentous occasion.
brows furrowed, the eyes of the bridgertons rested upon the long winding staircase, awaiting to see what exactly was this magical outfit that had their mother and sister gushing like birds.
and what anthony saw, made his jaw drop to the very ground.
at the very top, his darling wife came into view, hair in sleek, meticulous curls, perfectly cast up in an intricate updo, adorned with pearls, framing her face with the delicate curls. her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her flowing complexion with a touch of rosy blush and wine coloured lips.
she adorned a pearl necklace and matching earrings, gifted to her by anthony himself, adding a timeless elegance to her stature.
but what really caught everyones attention was the dress that she wore, more specifically, the colour of the dress she wore.
a rich dark blue silk gown, carefully tailored, hugged her frame, showcasing the intricate details that add to its allure. the bodice, adorned with delicate embroidery, depicting subtle butterfly motifs that caught the light as the she moved down the stairs. the neckline gracefully framed her collarbone, delicate lace butterflies attached to the neckline,while the sleeves tapered down to her wrists, showcasing more of the exquisite lacework that adorned her body.
the skirt of the gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, flowing generously in layers of silk that rustled with each step. the deep, rich hue of the fabric evoked a sense of opulence, reminiscent of midnight skies. as she walked down, the silk caught the light, casting a mesmerizing play of shadows and highlights.
the dress matched anthony's waistcoat perfectly, and the sight was enough to make the viscount choke over nothing.
as he saw his wife adorned in the resplendent dress for the first time, his eyes widened with genuine admiration.
a hushed gasp escaped his parted lips as he took in the sight before him.
his wife, cloaked in the elegance of the dark blue gown, the bridgerton blues appeared to be like a living portrait of timeless beauty.
a warm smile formed on his lips, expressing both surprise and deep appreciation for the grace and sophistication she was emanating.
"my darling" he murmured as he swept forward, extending his arm to welcome you into them.
smiling sweetly at the bridgerton clan, you floated down, linking your arm with anthony's.
"sister, you look utterly perfect in blue!" benedict exclaimed, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand, as violet fondly caressed your cheek.
"doesn't she look like a princess brother?!" hyacinth squealed, looking excitedly at anthony. "just like one out of the fairytales" he said, looking at you with nothing but admiration and love and fondness.
"you really do look utterly regal" colin said, flashing a warm smile at you. eloise and francesca came upto you, with even eloise admitting that the dress you were wearing was nothing short of a work of art, while francesca gushed over how the silhouette was so perfect for you.
"alright, we must leave if we want to reach lady danbury's ball on time!" violet said, clapping her hands, leading her children out to where the carriages awaited.
"wait behind for just a second my love" anthony whispered into your ear, as he walked up to his valet to whisper something into his ear.
slowly, the other bridgertons departed, after you promised them to join them very soon, ignoring the smirks and nudges colin and benedict sent your way.
anthony pulled you into his study, hand gently caressing your waist, feeling the rich silk in his hands, the other hand gently reaching for your chin, lifting it to look into your eyes.
"you look utterly divine my beloved" he whispered fingers gently fondling your face, eyes absorbing every detail of your face, not that he hadn't already memorised it.
"thank you my dear" you whispered back, hands settling on his broad shoulders, taking in his waistcoat as well, the dark blue velvet clinging to every rippling muscle in his body, brass buttons complementing the coat.
"i always knew you'd look stunning in bridgerton blue but....it seems as though the bridgerton blue was crafted for you" he murmured, tightening his grip on your waist, "so stunning that infact, i do not feel the need to leave for lady danbury's ball, for I'd much rather stay here with my breathtakingly beautiful wife" he murmured again, lips ghosting over your own as his hands squeezed your waist, drawing you flush against his body.
"my lord, we cannot... we must be present at the first ball of the season" you lamely protested, heart hammering against your chest as the intoxicating scent of his musky, woodsy cologne filled your nostrils.
anthony dropped his lips to your neck, lips brushing a feather soft kiss to the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from you.
"what if we do not go? what if we just stay here and...i worship my wife in the way she deserves? like the goddess she is?" he asked, like gently pressing kisses down to your collarbone, still as light as a feather, just enough to ignite something feral in you, but also enough to keep you wanting more.
"my lord it's the first ball of the season, and we have to-"
you were cut off by anthony's lips pressing against yours.
they were soft and plush against yours, pressing perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, initiating a warm glow in the pit of your tummy.
as your lips met, the sensation was like a feather's gentle caress — soft, fleeting, and subtly warm. it feels like a delicate dance, a tender exploration that sparked a gentle flutter within you. the touch was akin to the brush of downy feathers, teasing and inviting, as if he was testing the waters of intimacy.
yet, as the moment unfolded, a magnetic pull takes hold, drawing you deeper into the realm of passion. the softness transforms, gradually intensifying into a fiery connection. the initial delicacy gave way to a fervent exchange, each kiss building upon the other with a growing hunger.
your lips, once feather-light, were now engaged in a rhythmic and passionate dance. the subtle warmth amplified into a blazing fire, and what began as a gentle exploration evolved into a fervent expression of desire.
the world around you faded and in that heightened connection, every kiss becomes an electric charge, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between your two souls entwined in the artistry of passion.
anthony's hands ran rampant on your body, clutching every part of your body through the silk dress, yet taking care to not scrunch the silk in anyway.
"you have no idea what you do me darling" he growled against your lips, drawing back for just a moment to watch your chest heave and eyes glaze over, hands clutching his coat and cravat so tight he feared you would rip it off.
"every breath you take, every word you speak, the very sound of your melodious voice and the very beat of your heart, all allure me to you, draw me to you like a moth to a flame" he continued, his own heart hammering against his chest.
his chest rose and fell with every word, eyes ablaze with burning passion. "every second of every day, i crave you, i long for you, i need you, and it drives me feral. but the sight of you in my colour makes me want to rip off that very dress off your body, claiming you as mine in more ways than one" he growled, hands scrunching the material on your behind.
"anthony..i crave you every second of the day as well. i need you" you whispered, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.
"hush my sweet darling" he said, sending you a saccharine sweet smile.
then, much to your chagrin, he took his hands off your waist, fixing the material and fixing his own coat.
"now, we must hasten to lady danbury's" he smirked" and you groaned, a painful throbbing between your legs becoming more prominent.
"but my lord-" you protested, only to be cut off by another searing kiss. he kissed you deep and long, and then drew back, pushing a stray curl on your forehead back behind your ear.
"our family awaits dearest" he smiled, and gently led you out to the hall.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
the grand ballroom at lady danbury's unfolded into a dazzling spectacle as it embraced the opulence of a gold and maroon theme. golden hues enveloped the space, casting a warm, regal glow. glittering chandeliers, adorned with intricate gold details, hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting light in a dance of elegance.
luxurious maroon fabrics draped the walls, creating a sumptuous backdrop that added depth to the golden ambiance. tables adorned with golden tablecloths and maroon accents contributed to the harmonious blend of colors. golden candle holders flickered with the soft glow of candles, casting a gentle radiance on the rich maroon floral centerpieces.
the women's dresses shimmered with embellishments, and the men's attire featured accents, creating a visual symphony of sophistication, into which you walked with anthony, arms interlaced, as you bowed before queen charlotte, who had taken quite a liking to you.
"it's lovely to see the bridgertons led by a couple as magnanimous as you" she bestowed a rare compliment, bringing a hot flush to your cheeks and even to anthony's pale visage. "but now we anxiously await the news of a young bridgerton" she said pointedly, and you kept your eyes low, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheek.
around you, guests were engaged in a dance, the dance floor became a stage for a waltz of colors, with the many colours and tones reflecting in the mirrored walls. the orchestra, bathed in the warm ambiance, played melodies that echoed the richness of the color palette.
you noticed simon and daphne dancing, looking fondly at each other, and saw colin sharing a dance with young penelope featherington, which made you smile, always having harbored a soft spot for the girl.
you spotted eloise by the food table, with francesca, both enjoying the strawberries that were being served. benedict seemed engrossed in exploring the rich collection of paintings in the hall, and was surrounded by a group of friends.
anthony led you over to his sisters, a soft kiss to your wrist a promise to be back in a moment lingering on his lips, as he was dragged off by countless lords for a drink and a conversation about the next round of a hunt they were engaging in.
as eloise began to speak about the many cruelties of lady featherington, you spotted cressida cowper scowling over at the two of you, dressed in a pink so bright you felt momentarily blinded. she shot a contemptuous look at you, scoffing at your gown and sharing a laugh with lady cowper, that had your eyebrow creasing with insecurity.
much to your horror, she began to march over to you, along with her mother and lady featherington, much to your dismay. you searched desperately for your mother-in-law, but found her engrossed in conversation with the queen.
"my my, if it isn't the happy bridgertons" cressida sniped, flashing you a tight lipped smile. "hello miss cowper" you smiled, ignoring the anxiety bubbling in your tummy.
"cressida" eloise said coldly, linking her arm with yours. she was well aware of the contemptuous rumours she had spread about you when you had begun courting anthony and had made it her mission to protect you from her.
"what a rather unusual colour for you dear" lady cowper commented, eyes trailing down your body in disdain.
"it gives you the impression of being a little washed out" she stated, opening her fan to hide her smirk.
you ignored the tear that sprang to your eyes as she continued to comment, on the fall of the dress, the shape of the silhouette and the way your jewellery was far too showy.
you could feel eloise glowering beside you but silently begged her to keep calm, not wanting to lose her calm in front of everyone.
to your surprise, a familiar baritone cut in, a nd a strong arm wrapped around your midriff and waist.
your husband appeared beside you, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"i see why you might think that, lady cowper, for all you can pull off is that rather obnoxious shade of viscous pink, and while i understand your envy at my wife's ability to outshine everyone else here in any colour she chooses, i must remind you are speaking to the viscountess bridgerton, and hence must adhere to the degree respect she commands" he stated coolly, hand gripping your waist so tight you were sure it would leave marks.
stunned speechless, the cowper's backed away, egos more than bruised and enraged , subject to sniggers and chuckles from the other lords and ladies in the room. your brother walked to anthony from across the hall, patting him on the back and whispering a "good man" to him as he hugged you, and eloise drew anthony into a hug as well.
anthony led the two of you over to his mama, who couldn't hide a smile herself at the love her son had for his wife, so reminiscent of the way their father had loved her.
"I am sorry if I caused humiliation to your name mama, but I cannot and will not let anyone talk to my wife that way" he said firmly, only to be cut off by his mother.
"I believe everyone here has been waiting to say that to miss cowper since the beginning of time, my darling, so take your wife and go home. you have done your job and proved your love and passion and told everyone that your relationship rhymes true" she said, drawing you into a warm hug and bidding you goodbye.
the carriage ride home was silent as your held anthony's hand tight, his thumb tracing patterns over the gloves you were donning, a pearly white to match your jewels.
"thank you my love" you whispered to him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
"my darling, i love you, all of you. please do not ever belittle yourself, because your beauty is awe worthy" he said, eyes contorted as if he was in pain at the thought of you being in pain.
"I'll try my best not to" you whispered against, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. and you stayed like that till bridgerton manor came into view.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
frenzied kisses were pressed against your lips as anthony lifted you into his arms, earning a singular gasp from your lips. his hands, one wrapped tightly under your bottom and the other around your back was strong, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he led you upstairs, ignoring the scurrying valet and maids and your ladies in waiting as he made it to your shared bedroom.
he dropped you gently on the bed, towering above you, hands shoving the material of your dress up. his hands crept along your thighs stealthily, finding the hooks of your stockings to your thigh garter, slowly dragging it down, exposing your bare skin to him, suppressing a groan at the soft skin.
to his surprise you reached up and grabbed him by the cravat, untying it and pulling him down to meet your lips. you kissed him roughly, a frenzied battle, with teeth and tongue clashing as he shrugged off his waist coat and began to unbutton his shirt, watching as you removed your jewellery and kept in on the table beside his bed.
his hands reached for your dress, carefully untying the many laces and unbuttoning the many buttons on your dress, watching as your bosom heaved in the corset wore.
deft fingers unhooked the corset without a struggle, and you moaned when the cold air hit your nipples, making them harden, as you pushed your chest out towards him.
anthony growled, the sound reverberating in his throat as he reached down to unbutton his tan pants, leaving him in just his underwear. his lips attacked your neck, biting into the delicate flesh and pressing kiss after kiss, sucking deep marks and hickies that were sure to stay for days after.
you raked your nails up and down his neck, stroking the skin there and raking your hands upto his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he trailed kisses down to your breasts.
his mouth enveloped your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub.
he continued his ministrations, taking only a moment to move his mouth to your other breast and leaving lovebites on the skin.
he settled in between your thoughts, hips gently grinding into yours, as he licked and sucked to his heart’s desire, attempting to alleviate the growing tent in his pants.
you were beginning to pant, and he continued to pinch and stroke your nipple. his tongue wreaked havoc on one while his fingers gently tugged on the other. anthony could not wait any longer, the pain of the straining in his pants making him more loopy than he would admit, and he pulled away from your breast, a string of saliva from his lips to your breast.
he came back up to your mouth, kissing you with desperation. "i adore you" he painted above you, before kissing down your tummy to your thighs.
he stopped at the junction between your thighs, inhaling the musk of your scent.  
he reached for the cotton underwear you had on, gently pulling it down, and pushing your thighs apart, and a wave of cold air floated across your inner thighs, so open and exposed now.
anthony began to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bare expanse of your thighs, stopping just below your pussy lips each time.
mere moments later, you felt an entirely new sensation— anthony's wet, warm tongue sliding through your folds. a cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, as you looked down at anthony, who had crawled between your legs with his tongue buried at the apex of your thighs.
your slick dripped down your pussy lips, costing them in your honey, and anthony licked it all up as if it was nectar and ambrosia, lowering his face to lick a long strip through your entire slit, before tilting his face even deeper into your pussy, swirling around up to your engorged clit and licking all around it and on the top of it.
the action had your hips jolting as he sucked on the nub, causing flashes of white to flash before your eyes.
"you taste more delightful than i could ever have imagined" he breathed licking the sour-sweet liquid off his lips. "my own precious honey pot" he cooed, making you flush again and your body heated up.
he sucked harder on your clit, fingers slipping into your slit to slide up and down, each stroking made your hips flail wildly.
“you taste so sweet” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath sears against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, are dripped in hunger and arousal, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.
"i have longed to have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other" he promised.
with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center again and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolting in shock and you scream in pleasure,
the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm. then anthony rolls your clit with his teeth and you come apart with a scream, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.
you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss.
anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your pussy as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride.
his cock was one not only of great size but of greater girth and greater skill, and he adored nothing more than watching your eyes become as large as saucers as you looked at his poor cock straining again as it had been ever since he saw you in his signature colour.
trained hands guided his cock to your entrance, tapping against it for a few seconds before he dragged the tip through your slick, making your body shudder at the stimulation. and then, he pressed a kiss to your neck, hips slamming against yours.
the first thrust was deep and claiming,and you cried out at the perfect stretch of him in your pussy.
you could barely think straight, hands digging into his back and nails sinking into his skin.
"so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nipped on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. so wet and warm for me my sweet sweet beloved. fuck, you're so tight right now. squeezing me so well, you love my cock, do you not my angel?"
"yes yes i love you and your cock" you changed as a prayer, eyes bashful at the use of the dirty word. "look at how your cunt clenches around me" he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly.
you could hear the headboard banging against the wall as the pace of anthony's thrusts had your body sliding against the silken sheets.
and then he stopped
he stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, and his cock twitched excitedly inside you. you watched the way he gripped the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they went hite. it sent heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you were sure you are going to burn. it was far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 
there’s no warning as he pulled out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusted all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. his cock slammed into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 
and then he grabs your legs, pushing them up towards your legs as he almost folded you in half, pushing your legs so far apart they almost touched your head, as he moved to his knees for a better angle.
his hips thrusted wildly as he kept fucking you, hand rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit, as you whined and moaned and screamed. he watched as your cunt, pink and perfect fluttered and twitched, and his ears revelled at the sound of the filthy, wet squelching that echoed in the room from your dripping cunt.
he landed a harsh smack to the back of your thigh that had you screaming as he then pressed his tongue to it, sucking a hickey on the spot.
sweat dripped down his forehead and yours, as you began to thrust your hips up to meet his perfect strokes, while feeling like his cock was going to split you apart.
"i want nothing more than to fill you with my seed" he growled, over the sound of your skin slapping together over and over again.
"fill me with your seed my lord. let me have carry your kin" you murmured, and you watched as anthony groaned, hand wrapping around your throat.
"such a minx" he grinned, squeezing and watching your eyes roll back.
without a warning, he flipped you over so you were on top, and his deft hands steadied you at the waist.
then he began to slowly pick your hips up, working you up and down on his cock, slamming you up and down on his cock, until you got the hang of it.
anthony felt himself drooling as he took in the way your tits bounced and you bounced on his cock as you ride him, nails now scratching down his chest as he laid a harsh spank to your ass that had you clenching on his cock harder.
he watched your body desperately ride him for all he was worth, thighs jiggling as they clapped against his own, and he pinched the fat around your waist and belly, teeth nipping at your nipple to increase the stimulation.
"m-my lord! I am going to cum!" you moaned loudly, only to turn to a wail as anthony's fingers unleashed a furious assault on your clit, as he rubbed it up and down and side to side and everywhere, covering his fingers in your slick.
with a scream of his name, you came all over his dick and his tummy, your juices spilling out of you like a fountain, watching as he scooped it up with his fingers to lick it clean.
he slammed your hips down on his even harder as you whined, and you felt his stomach tense and breathing stutter as he came, shooting his load inside you, and finally sinking into the pillow, limp.
panting, you rolled off of him, mind cockdrunk and unable to move. anthony peppered kisses to your skin and kissed the spots where he'd been rough.
"you were phenomenal, my love" he whispered, and to your intrigue, his fingers trialed down to your cunt.
you watched as he gently slid a finger in to your hole, shushing and kissing you as he blocked it with his fingers.
"i cannot have a single drop of me spilling out of you" he murmured and you moaned.
"i adore you", he mumbled, "my dear wife" he concluded.
"and i adore you, my dear husband" you smiled, meeting his lips in a sugar sweet kiss.
who would've known that wearing the bridgerton blue was all it would take for you and anthony to announce to the ton in the next three months that you were expecting the first bridgerton heir?
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a/n : I've missed writing for bridgerton so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! happy reading ☺️♥️
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
Text
broken lamps - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: anon request 'Charles flying to see his lover in another country but getting so needy he ends up fucking her in the hallway of her apartment on the floor.' Warnings: smut, 18+, spitting, unprotected sex Word Count: 1,239 Author's Note: please comment any thoughts!!! I love hearing feedback. I had fun writing this!! Hopefully it's up to your standards. I'm still new at this whole writing thing. BUT ANYWAYS CHARLES P2!!! BITTERSWEET END TO THE SEASON. CAN'T BELIEVE ITS OVER. TIME TO TOSS THE SF-23 IN THE TRASH!!!!!! French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
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CHARLES WAS NOT a particularly needy person. In fact, one would say that he tended to be self-sufficient and independent. But when he was needy, he was needy. And quite demanding too.
He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, but he couldn’t bear the idea of having to wait longer.
For three long weeks, the absence of your touch weighed heavily on him. Your inability to attend the races due to work in the past few weeks had taken a toll, unraveled his composure and pushed him to the brink of madness.
Which is how he found himself standing in front of your door in the middle of the night, urgently pounding his knuckles into it. A suitcase at his side, and his hair disheveled. He was already hard. He hasn’t even seen you yet, and he could already feel the blood rushing to his cock.
You could barely unlock the door before feeling him push it open and slamming it shut, leaving his suitcase abandoned in the hallway of the apartment building – long forgotten in the heat of the moment. 
He was so needy. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t even wait to go down the hallway to the bedroom.
His lips immediately pressing into yours as he pulled you into him.
“Bébé, I need to feel you,” He groaned in between kisses, pushing you up on top of the table in the entry way of your apartment. His hands exploring every inch they could find, kissing and biting into your skin with intense desire. He repeatedly brushed himself up against your lace covered core, letting you feel just how hard he was. How much he wanted you. How much he needed you.
It was almost too easy. You were only in a silk robe, with lace underwear and a thin tank top.
“Charles,” you moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers slip past the lace to rub your clit in soft circles. You gazed up at him as he hastily pulled down your spaghetti strap tank top, allowing your breasts to spill over the fabric. His other hand immediately pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger.
The attack of his hands on your nipples and your clit was enough to send you over the edge quickly. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Like it was his. Because it is.
“So fucking hot,” Charles groaned as he watched the lace of your lace underwear dampen from your orgasm. “Missed you so much baby,” he leans over to press his lips to yours amidst your moans.
Your hands roamed his body, which was still mostly clothed, aside from his sweats half shoved down. Too impatient to fully get undressed. You glanced down at his cock; it was smooth, and you could see the precum dripping from it. Poor baby, you thought.
“I need you,” you squeezed his biceps as Charles stood up straighter and looked down at you.
His gaze darkened, and you could feel it penetrating your soul. It carried a possessive intensity. His left hand firmly gripped your hip, anchoring you to the small entryway table. He stood between your legs, leaving them spread completely.
“Gonna take all of me like a good girl, right?” He mocked as he aligned himself with your entrance. He didn’t push in right away, just held it there as he stared down at you pressed against the table. Like you were his own personal feast. 
You couldn’t find the words. All you could do was nod your head eagerly.
“Look at you,” his fingers rolled one of your nipples between them slowly, “my sweet little girl just waiting to be fucked hard until you cum all over my cock.”
“Please,” you begged. You were not against begging. Especially if it meant you could finally feel him. You couldn’t slip out another beg before he pushed himself right into you. The burning stretch eliciting moans from both of you.
“Merde,” he hissed. The squeeze of you on his cock was heavenly. “So warm, ma chérie” He was ravaging you now. There was something different with Charles tonight, not by much – but a slight difference. He was more urgent and eager than normal. Like you would disappear into thin air if he didn’t grip your hips so tightly. 
His gaze never faltered from yours as his hips rocked into yours aggressively. The room was full of breathy moans and the entry level table banging into the wall along with each thrust of Charles hips into you. 
The force of his hips sent the small white lamp tumbling to the floor, shattering it no doubt. Neither of you bothered to glance at it. Too unraveled in each other. It was as if you didn’t even hear the lamp break.
One of your hands grasped your knee closer to your chest, while the other gripped onto Charles bicep of the arm that pressed into your neck. His hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly with just the right amount of pressure.  
“Charles, I’m going to,” you didn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.
“Yeah? Again? That quick?” He was so fucking cocky. “Open up for me, baby.” 
You didn’t even have to question what he meant. Instantly opening your mouth, he spit a string of his saliva into your mouth. His eyes burning into your soul. You felt your pussy clench around his cock at the feeling of his saliva hit your tongue.
“Fuck. Your tight pussy can barely fit me, huh?” It was so tight. Charles could feel himself shuttering at the feeling. “Need to stretch you out. Three weeks was too long?” His hips were faltering with each thrust as he felt himself edging closer to his orgasm.
A sound similar to a sob claws out your throat as his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. Over and over and over. 
“Please, I need to,” you were a whimpering mess. Charles found it so endearing how hard you would try to wait for his permission. 
“Not yet,” You thought you could cry on the spot. Until he yanked you off the table and onto the floor. You now straddling him.
“Rub that pretty pussy all over me baby,” He was leaned up on his two arms, looking at you with an eyebrow cocked and smirk. “Get yourself there.”
You felt yourself immediately working yourself over his cock. His eyes were all over the place. Looking at your face, the bounce of your breasts, and the way he disappears into you. The position driving him much deeper than before and the feeling of your clit brushing against him was too much.
It was like he knew. Knew all the signs that you were there. “Oui, mon amour,” he replied, “let me feel you.”
It was only a few more strokes before you felt yourself cumming all over Charles. The sound of your moans getting choked up as you pulled Charles up closer and pulled his lips to yours. 
He quickly rolled over you, pulling out and releasing all over your tank top, some hitting your breasts. 
You were exhausted, a limp pile of bones, as you felt him collapse down onto you. Not even caring that his cum was all over you both now. He just wanted to be close to you. 
You were smiling hard up at him. Soft laughs were now leaving your mouth, “Guess I should buy a new lamp.”
He scooped you up and carried you to the bed. The bed he couldn’t make it to earlier.
“Unless you want another lamp to break, let’s not bother.” 
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Text
You Slow It Down - LN
Summary: Lando lives in a fast world of fast cars, constant travel and always moving. But there's one person who makes it all slow down and lets him just breathe.
Themes: Smut (unprotected but reader is on bc) ;), fluffiness too
No part 2 requests please
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Being an F1 driver is the dream. Lando is living the dream, but it does meant comes at a cost in other departments of his life.
"Lando? Lando, radio check?" Will calls into his ear, the slightly impatient tone giving away that he'd zoned out so much he'd been ignoring the only voice in his ear.
"Yeah, yep. Loud and clear." Lando states giving his head a bit of a shake to snap himself out of it.
Getting back into the right mindset for the season isn't necessarily hard, but accepting that the car might be more on the back foot than he'd hoped for at the start of the season isn't exactly what he had envisioned.
It's better than the disaster that was how the 2023 car started out. But they have yet to see it compete in a race, so maybe it's not wise to speak too loud about it like that.
It's the last day of testing and he's driving the morning session rather than the afternoon as he had the first two days.
This session really doesn't go well, with a red flag from a drain over and them only getting 20 laps in with him in the car. Things aren't where this should be and he needs to really focus on finding the solutions with the team, preferably before the race next week.
"It's going to be alright mate." Jon tries knowing that as close as they are, he's no one the one who brings peace of mind to Lando when he needs it.
The problem?
The person who does bring him peace of mind isn't here.
As part of a promise to not get in Lando's way when he needs to focus, y/n said she wouldn't come to Bahrain till the race weekend starts. Which is actually on Thursday.
Meaning Lando won't be handing out any genuine smiles till at least Wednesday. Almost thankfully, Lando will probably be kept too busy with the team to focus on her absence and when he is forced to sit on his own in his hotel room he'll be too exhausted to properly focus on her not being there. Though no doubt he's going to be calling her for some comfort.
-
The team all leave late after the most detailed of debriefs following Oscar finishing up for the day, later than really intended since the whole day was messed up by the loose drain.
It's on the drive home that he's on the phone to y/n, not even waiting till he's on his own for some verbal reassurance.
"Hey, baby." Y/n greets softly over the phone. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you so early."
"Not a good day, I just wanted to hear your voice." Lando mumbles, not being particularly bothered if Jon hears how pathetically needy he is over his girlfriend and her lack of presence at the moment. "I could buy you a ticket to fly out earlier."
"Lando...you know I'm no good for your focus when it comes to prepping for a race. We both promised Zak." Y/n reminds him since it was Zak who asked as politely as he possibly could that Lando travel without y/n at least for the testing and run-up to the first race.
Y/n was actually pretty flattered at the fact that she’s such a distraction to Lando that even staying in the hotel and promising not to be in the paddock wasn’t enough to guarantee Lando’s focus in the right area.
“Can you at least come on Tuesday instead? The media stuff is all on the wednesday and I want time with you before the whole first weekend kicks off.” Lando sighs, at the ready to really do whatever he needs to so he can see her sooner.
"Lando..."
"Please baby." Lando mumbles failing to hide his voice wobbling a little. Thankfully Jon has the kindness to not even turn his head in a moment like this, he knows Lando wouldn't appreciate being stared at in such a way.
"You know I don't need good reason to see you sooner. I just don't want you getting in trouble because we told Zak Thursday."
"He'll live." Lando mutters then clearing his throat a little. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about my day. I want to hear about yours."
-
The next 3 days were the longest of Lando's life and to make the wait a little shorter for himself, he managed to get y/n on a flight at an ungodly hour in the morning so he wouldn't have to wait longer than breakfast to see her.
She actually appears just after he's ordered room service.
"Morning, handsome." Y/n smiles moving to him just to give him a kiss only to be yanked down into his lap. "Oh, ok."
Lando is certain, almost certain at least, that y/n isn't aware of just how much y/n soothes the rushing thoughts that make his head feel tight with stress. Actually he didn't even realise till she appeared with that warm smile that his chest had felt so restricted till he relaxed upon seeing her.
Holding her actually brings him a type of comfort he couldn't compare to any feeling he's felt before.
"Would you like to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Y/n whispers gently poking his head through the mass of curls. There's a long silence which she takes as Lando deciding he's not going to speak about it quite yet. "Glad you've not been fucking up your hair while I've been gone."
"I'd hate to undo all your hard work?" Lando jokes then kissing her softly. "I love you. I missed you so much."
"I missed you too, that apartment is so empty without you there." Y/n sighs earning a small smile since he does like to hear it. "What's on the agenda today?"
"I got the weekend off. Just a bit more training. Dinner with some of the team, playing golf later and maybe padel with some of the boys." Lando states as he smiles lightly at her. "Want to come with?"
"You know I do." Y/n nods before she leans into him. "What's first?"
"Eating. Did you eat before you got here?"
He's not sure why he asked, y/n has never been one for breakfast despite his attempts to get her to out such a habit have all fallen short with her compromise being a small smoothie.
"I had a late dinner because I knew you'd ask. I'm doubling it up as a very early breakfast."
"Breakfast so early you had it before you went to sleep." Lando laughs then biting his lip for a moment. "Do you know what I would love to do after breakfast?"
"I think I might be able to guess. Unless you're growing another limb down there." Y/n grins since the two are young and going days without sex isn't really either of them enjoy.
Y/n waits for Lando, the wait being enough for her to have let her mind run rogue to the point she's surprised he hasn't called her out for her shifting around. Though when he's done, he does stand up deciding he needs to "freshen up".
"Ok, you can stop squirming." Lando smirks reappearing as he looks at her. "Now. Where do I want you...?"
Admittedly there's something in getting to have sex that is going to help Lando destress a little.
"Lando?" Y/n frowns tilting her head, but there's something in her voice that tells him that she might need it more than him.
"On the bed, clothes off, I want to see all of you." Lando states making her almost scramble to do as he says. Her clothes removed and her body laid out like an angel.
These are the moments Lando wants to slow down and they do. He gets his wish every time and he couldn't be happier about it. She glows in his eyes and there's one specific part of her that is quite listening glistening for him.
"How much did you miss me, baby?" Lando asks, feeling his voice having dropped a little with the sudden urge to get inside her making his body fight itself from launching forward. "You're always so beautiful."
Lando climbs onto the bed after making a quick job of pulling off his own clothes, lips brushing up her torso before he kisses her and usually he'd make time for foreplay but he has to get inside of her.
"I need you, baby." Lando groans pushing into her and feeling euphoric from the wet heat of her body as she tightens around him, a moan passing her lips as he head drops back.
"F-Fuck. Don't stop. Please keep moving." Y/n pants, wrapping her legs up around his waist as he thrust in and out of her, grinding down against her to knock at her clit with expert movement and pressure.
Nothing if not a gentleman about her pleasure.
"Lando." Y/n moans like music to his ears, her heavy breaths complete mesmerising him as her skin coats itself in a light sweat.
Her stomach begins tighten as he gives a particularly deep grind down against her, managing to knock her cervix especially hard.
"F-fuck." Y/n pants running a hand up through his hair and tugging it a little while he repeats his action till she's rambling something incoherent before her whole body seizes.
The grip around him, pulsing heavily around his cock as she pulls him closer, seated full in her with no room to move. His own orgasm triggered as she shudders in waves of pleasure. The additional feeling of his cum spilling into her makes her eyes roll back as a new heat fills her impossibly full.
"You always feel so fucking good." Lando groans as he slowly eases himself out of her, much to her grumbling since she sounds unimpressed by him retreating before he pulls her in for a tight cuddle. "I wish I could spend the rest of my life doing this."
"As much as I would love to encourage you to retire to just spend ll day, every day having sex with me. I don't know if either of us have the stamina for that." Y/n laughs breathlessly before trying to shift only for Lando to keep her held tightly in place. "What?"
"Just stay like this for a bit."
"Baby, I'm leaking onto the sheets."
"Someone will come in and change them, it's ok." Lando shrugs then earning a grunt of disgust at the thought of someone else cleaning cum stained sheets for them. "I think they've dealt with worse."
"Still." Y/n mumbles before she lies her head on his chest. "Can you tell me why you were so upset? I hate knowing you had to literally beg me to come here."
"It's just the car...it's not where I thought it would be at this point." Lando states then gently hugging the woman. "I just needed you here really."
"You know if there's one thing the team proved last year, it's that they can make a bad car good. It might not be perfect but there's plenty of opportunities to improve. You never know what an upgrade can do...I remember how bad it was last year, you were considering other options." Y/n points out making him look at her with a sigh since she's right. "As for right now. I think you just need to take your mind off of the race and we'll get out, play some golf, padel, just enjoy the next couple days."
Y/n looks at him for a moment before smiling at him and sitting up.
"And there's always room for more sex and dirtying sheets between all that."
"You always know exactly what to say to me." Lando smirks making her grin at him.
"It's a talent."
So they spend the next 24 hours enjoying the free time, and then media kicks off on Wednesday, part way through Lando jumps at the opportunity of a break that he spends entirely with y/n. It's clearly to everyone that he only wants her to be the centre of his attention and has no interest in someone else interrupting the brief time he gets with her.
"How are you feeling?" Y/n asks making her look at him for a moment.
"I'm feeling better now you're here with me when I'm not busy. You're the best company I could ask to have." Lando declares softly while she smiles and tucks her head into his neck. "I love you."
"I love you too, you melodramatic muppet." Y/n whispers with her cheeky smile hidden from his sight.
"Oi." Lando laughs poking her side making her squeal and try to dodge his hand. "I'm not a muppet for loving my girlfriend."
"No. I support you're not."
Y/n slows the pace of the break in his day and with the rest of media being the type she can stand in the background for. He lets himself focus on her instead, which does somewhat drag out all the media duties but he'd happily take that if it means he can just admire her even when he's meant to be working instead.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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