Tumgik
#baby's first E fic
Flufftober Fic!
Baby's first E fic. For Flufftober. Wtf was I thinking.
Title: you are my very movement, and I your wildest yes
Prompt: Fire and Ice.
9 notes · View notes
redjayson · 24 days
Text
“Shh, Shizun, it’s alright,” Luo Bingge says, voice lilting in a singsong manner. Shen Qingqiu can’t look away from his red, red eyes. He blinks, and they aren’t eyes at all, but feathers, perched on a mound of coiled, shifting vines that are dotted with white thorns dyed their own bright red from Shen Qingqiu’s blood. “Go to sleep, Shizun,” the black-and-red bird sings, coaxing. “Go to sleep,” Luo Bingge repeats, as he flickers back into being.
or: Shen Qingqiu is attacked by a monster that drops him into a dream of a perfect world--with Luo Binghe featuring front and center.
I got impatient and decided to post the first chapter of this fic along with the new chapter of second-hand alibis. two-for-one special!
17 notes · View notes
collegeoflore · 6 months
Text
sunset turning red
pairing: nb!Tav/Astarion rating: E word count: 14,609 description: Bloody and bruised after a run in with a handful of Absolute cultists, Astarion and Xarrai remember all at once what it means to be hungry. more context: Xarrai is a tiefling bard with the charlatan background, and an escaped Banite cultist. Any pronouns are fine (though I stick with they/them here for clarity.) This piece is set mid-Act 3, post-ritual, with an un-ascended Astarion. ao3 link: here
Everything smells like copper and sweat. Xarrai moves on pure instinct, lips shaping words without thought, sidestepping the thrusts of cultists’ blades with practiced ease. It’s music to them, a sickly sweetened symphony; the clang of metal on metal, the slick slide of blades in flesh, the rhythmic beat of a dozen racing hearts, their own voice whispering or screaming or singing until mind is cleaved from body again and again and again and—
A sword slashes through their coat and into the skin of their shoulder. Xarrai hisses, pulled back into themself, dropped out of the whirling hum. They spin, rapier in their hand, to see Astarion behind them with his dagger buried so deep in the cultist’s chest his glove is dyed red by the spray. Xarrai grins, lopsided and fang-sharp and sweet as honey. The cultist in Astarion’s grasp goes limp and he drops them, catches Xarrai’s eye with a cocky smile of his own and disappears again into the fray. To their right a fireball explodes, searing heat across their face for an instant, and they see Gale back up on the steps, his teeth gritted and eyes dark. He motions for them to come toward him, and they know he’s right - they’re more effective at a distance, when they can see the battle in front of them – but this, the pain and the blood and the ear-splitting ring of it all makes them feel alive. Someone grabs at them again. They whisper, low and measured, fingers on their lyre, and watch the dwarf’s mind break behind her eyes.
The symphony churns on, voices and metal and the ringing of their lyre above it all. Karlach roars behind them, Astarion appears and disappears between their enemies, Gale runs his voice ragged shouting spell after spell that deftly avoids the three of them amid their enemies.
And then it’s over.
There’s blood in Xarrai’s mouth and they’re not sure if it’s their own or if it belongs to one of the cultists at their feet. They push the hair out of their face with their free hand and leave a smear of blood behind, black curls tinged red in the low light. There’s adrenaline thrumming in their veins, their heart still pounding like a war drum. They hook their lyre onto their back again and shake out their limbs.
Behind them, almost close enough to touch, Astarion catches his breath. “I don’t know why you insist on throwing yourself into the middle of things.” He quips. He’s dripping with blood, his cheek sliced open and oozing dark red, the rest of him splattered in the searing bright carnation of the recently living. “You’re more helpful when you’re not getting stabbed.”
Xarrai turns to smirk at him. “I didn’t get stabbed, to be fair.”
continue reading on AO3
20 notes · View notes
faeymouse · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Happy day, it arrived! AND IT RULES, IT RULES SO MUCH. Getting the opportunity to work on this zine along with so many other talented artists and writers in fandom was a treat and an honor. Thank you so much for putting together something as memorable and exciting as this was, @kenobizine mod team, and an even bigger thank you for giving me the chance to be a part of it 😊
(now please excuse me while I return to admiring all the merch. Stickers galore, heck yes)
25 notes · View notes
tennessoui · 2 months
Note
KIT!!!!! that wip wednesday post just ripped my damn heart out!!! Obi-Wan never thinking of a future where they didn't win??? Obi-Wan all alone at the end of the war??? Obi-Wan keeping his brother/padawan/anakin's son instead of giving him to owen and beru??? Mr. Infinite Sadness indeed!!! Its just so damn tragic and angsty and i need to know what happens after this!!
the next two sentences (after scenebreak) are:
“The first week is miserable.
The second is worse.”
so obviously obiwan bounces back quickly and takes to fatherhood like a duck to water
16 notes · View notes
youjustwaitsunshine · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
when in doubt start reading the greatest epic of our time again
90 notes · View notes
allylikethecat · 4 months
Note
Omg I love the Christmas series of infection verse so much!!!! You're an incredible writer
Oh my gosh you are absolutely too kind! Thank you so much!!! 🥺 I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the Christmas update so far! I hope I'll be able to finish it soon- my goal is my the end of January at the latest! The Infection Verse situation has become one of my absolute favorite things, and my favorite versions of Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George and I'm so, so happy to hear that you're still enjoying them as well!
Thank you so much for reading, sending in this ask and for your continued support! I hope you have a lovely weekend and a fantastic New Year!
❤️Ally
3 notes · View notes
skylarkblue · 1 year
Text
yikes i just wrote my very first smut/smut-adjacent scene and i sent it to hollie to beta and now i’m sitting here like don’t LOOK at me don’t PERCEIVE me
mortifying ordeal of being known, etc, etc,
7 notes · View notes
thedragonagelesbian · 11 months
Text
Doing legacy, night terrors, and dissent all right in a fucking row really is the anders nightmare train huh
#ive made this exact same post before but its really hitting me working on the fic#not once not twice but THREE FUCKING TIMES has anders lost control over himself in such a short span of time#nearly killing someone and (in my canon) seriously wounding cyrus (the guy hes been in love with for three years)#in the process#like....... the post alrik convo is all the more intense and serious when taken in that light#and then immediately following that up with him & cyrus hooking up (in the same scene in my fic)#like (a) yall probably need to take some time to p r o c e s s and cyrus baby boy PLS go talk to ur other friends#fenris and isabela will apologize for betraying you in the fade you do not need to latch on to anders like this#but (b).................... for anders it IS a strangely meaningful & healing way to renegotiate#his understanding of how much control he has over himself and his body#first by topping cyrus & using that control exclusively in the service of taking care of someone else#and their pleasure#and then afterwards making the conscious decision not to pursue his own pleasure further#by staying with cyrus#bc he thinks its the safer and more selfless option#snyway working on this fic has dredged up a LOT of feelings#i dunno if im ever going to have the confidence to share it bc of. yknow. the hooking up part#but its there and its meaningful and its good for both of them#just........ the romantic feelings it comes with are a bit more questionable/destructive in their singular devotion#cyrus hawke#cyrusXanders#**by NOT staying with cyrus
2 notes · View notes
Note
I was the one who's struggling to going through y6 but the realization I had when I realized you're my fav MineDai author a while back made my brain blue screen heuwje
Honestly thank you for the good food in both mediums ‼️‼️
OHH YOU'VE ALSO READ MY MINEDAI FICS??? mortifying BUT i'm so glad you enjoy my stuff hi ^^ !!
#snap chats#i love makin stuff for em.. they make my brain happy#also hi :) hope Y6 is A Game for you#ik a lot of people squint at it. i am one of those people#its not a terrible game it's just reaaaally mid imo and the plot's not saving it#but w/e we can talk bout that when you finish it i hope you're able to find more joy out of it than the typical player !#O BTW I SAY MORTIFYING CAUSE IM REALLY INSECURE ABOUT MY WRITING ☠️☠️#'snap why post then' because i have an agenda and i want to Not be an insecure baby about my writing#i do love writing when i get the ball rolling because with writing i feel like i can better explore why i love these charcters#i can only do so much with comics and all and sometimes comics just cant fully convey what im trying to say#but UGH minedai... i love writing them the most No Shit but i just do#their dynamic is so fun and interesting and i dont really see it portrayed in a way that tickles me#not saying how other people do it is bad or wrong obvi its just that there are aspects of it i dont see touched on too much#it makes me really happy when people say they like my writing because of that tho#cause i truly dont expect people to- sometimes i feel like i portray them wrong or just not in a way people like#so yeah im glad you like my fics ! def gives me motivation to keep writing :)#but yeah sorry for the prattle- again thank you for reading ^^#i hope to have more minedai stuff done. i just gotta think of stuff first..#too busy being ill over my cringe and writing fics for that- which i have a new one ready i just have to look it over again
3 notes · View notes
all444miles · 9 months
Text
— JERSEY LUV
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !
Tumblr media
MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.
"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."
MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.
MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.
MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.
MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.
"Mi reina, lemme love on you."
MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.
MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3
MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?
MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.
MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭
"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."
Tumblr media
quick @ to my boo @laaailuh
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
5K notes · View notes
cyberjam · 9 months
Text
E!42 MILES DATING A SHY!SOFT READER . . . ☆
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings - black fem!reader in mind but you can imagine it however you'd like, miles having a soft spot for you, pink coquette vibes from reader, profanity, slightly suggestive.
word count - 2.2k | lowercase intended.
main masterlist | proof read?: kinda😭
song rec for fic?: yo love - from "queen and slim: the soundtrack - vince staples, 6lack, mereba <3
Tumblr media
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . HOW YOU FIRST MET . .
ఇ . . . you two were assigned as partners for a science project that would play a big part in your final grade. you knew of each other but never fully interacted until now.
ఇ . . . miles knew you as quiet, only speaking when spoken to. you were an approachable person with a warm smile. you carried yourself well, and treated others kindly, even if they were undeserving. he was entranced by you to say the least. with how things were currently going in new york, he was surprised that the city hadn't dimmed your light. miles wanted to know more about you and this project gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.
ఇ . . . you knew of miles as well. he had the reputation of being an unapproachable person. easily intimidating others without trying, and keeping his circle of people small. you took a small interest in him as well. you'd catch yourself glancing at him every now and then, trying to break down his character. he didn't seem as mean as everyone claimed but now was finally your chance to see for yourself.
ఇ . . . that project was only the beginning of your and miles' relationship.
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . CRUSHING STAGE . .
ఇ . . . miles protectiveness increases the more your relationship grows. he'll cut into situations and defend you before you can fully form a thought. he never hesitates to step in-front of you as a human-shield and tell someone off with a simple phrase.
"ay, watch yo mouth." | "huh? repeat yo'self." | "i know you not talkin'-"
ఇ . . . he starts eating lunch with you. his friends get on him for being a simp but he brushes it off every-time. he enjoys the convos you two have during lunch and would rather sit next to you than a rowdy group of boys who use the lunch food as science experiments.
ఇ . . . he seeks you out. during school, after school, on his nightly patrols, etc. without even fully knowing it himself, miles is always looking for you no matter where he is. he just naturally gravitates towards you. you bring something to miles life that he hasn't had in a long time. peace.
ఇ . . . let's you mess with his hair. when he's over your place he'll let you put your cute baby pink hair clips in his braids and even tie in some hair bo-bo's at the end of them. but only if you take them out as soon as you're done and don't take any pictures. (you still take pictures)
ఇ . . . let's you draw on him. you can't remember when it exactly started but it's became a routine for you to doodle and write on his hands in every class you two share. he'll return the favor, if you ask nicely. he copies whatever drawing you did on his hand to yours so you'd be matching. (he dreams of getting matching tattoos with you.) <3
ఇ . . . scares classmates away. whether it be a glare from across the room or an arm slung around your shoulders, miles is always scaring your classmates away. even if they show the smallest romantic interest in you.
ఇ . . . maintains eye contact. he's always looking for your eyes and trying to remain in contact with them when you talk. he just loves staring into your pretty doe eyes while you ramble about something you like.
ఇ . . . nicknames. miles doesn't want to scare you off by being too forward, so he'll limit his nicknames. the ones he does call you while crushing on you are ma and princesa.
ఇ . . . passes notes in class. he's a bit of a "model student" in class (not talking back, not interrupting or disrespecting classmates, turning in his work early on time. he just wants to be left alone lmao) but he's more than willing to pass notes with you throughout the entire period. you'll catch him up on the newest gossip and he'd update you on the stuff him and his homeboys get into.
ఇ . . . he'll help you study. if you don't know spanish or you're just a struggling student, he'll teach you everything you're having a hard time with at a comfortable pace. he'll quiz you every once in awhile just to make sure you fully understand and don't feel behind in anything. if you've shown a significant amount of improvement he'll treat you by taking you out for your choice of dessert. (it's really just an excuse to take you out on a date without using the word date)
ఇ . . . there's an unspoken rule that you are his. classmates know, your friends know, his homeboys know, hell, even the teachers know. you're the only person miles gives the time of day. you're the only one who gets to walk around with his arm on your shoulders, have his undivided attention, as well as be the reason for his smile. you are his and he is yours.
ᘏ⑅ᘏ
. . DATING STAGE . .
ఇ . . . late night facetime calls. you two are truly never apart. when you're not together physically you're on facetime with each other. he loves when you call him and showcase the cute things you bought for yourself using his card. he also just loves the comfort those calls bring him. seeing you engulfed in a warm blanket fast asleep while he's doing his own thing just makes him feel content. you're able to be there for each other without physically being there and that's enough for him to wait patiently until he's able to hold you again.
ఇ . . . clingy as hell. although, he'll never voice out his wants for your touch he will initiate it. miles will be the one to commence 80% of affection. partly because you're shy and mainly because he can't keep his hands off of you. miles is always touching you in some way. whether it be an arm around your shoulder, a hand resting on your thigh, or a hand rubbing your ass while you're cuddling. he can't resist kissing you either. his lips always finding any available part of your skin to kiss when he feels like it.
ఇ . . . compliments. every chance he gets he'll remind you how good you look. always hyping you up and telling you how beautiful you are. whenever you get overwhelmed by the flow of affectionate words that smoothly flow out of his mouth, you'll cover your face with your hands and turn away from him. it only gives him more fuel in the long run because he loves to see his girl get all shy and cute for him. sometimes he doesn't even use his words. a simple look up and down while licking his lips will leave you weak in the knees.
"that's all mine right there."
ఇ . . . genuinely hates arguing with you. he hates when you're upset with him. there are plenty of times where miles has provoked you to the point you've gotten upset with him and that's usually when he knows he's gone too far. you're his girl, his everything. he can't have you sulking because of him. although, miles does have a bit of a short-temper, he remains calm throughout these situations. he lets you both voice your sides and he won't let the situation go until you come to an agreement. he tends to avoid arguments at all costs. usually murmuring a "you got it, ma." before it turns into something more. after settling long disagreements, he'll engulf you in a hug and give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"love you. don't want my girl goin to bed mad at me."
ఇ . . . nicknames! his nicknames will consist of mi vida, mi reina, ma, mami, baby, etc. any term of endearment you can think of he's most-likely called you. usually consisting of 'my/mine'. he's very possessive. your contact name in his phone is 'mi corazon 💘' and you're the only one with an emoji next to your name.
ఇ . . . spoils you. you want it? you got it. although, miles isn't incredibly wealthy, he does have money. he uses it to take care of you and his mom, providing help for the both of you. he helps rio with actual necessities, while with you he provides you with gifts. ranging from shoes, eyelashes, lace fronts, plushies, clothes, or electronics. the most expensive gift he's gotten for you is an ipad and apple pencil. it was for your birthday and he knew he had to get it for you after hearing you fangirl about it nonstop.
ఇ . . . lets you do his hair. he usually only lets rio do his hair, he's a major mama's boy. so, when you were granted the privilege to do his hair you felt honored. he also just loves when you take his braids out and give him scalp massages. he's fallen asleep on occasion because of how gentle and soothing your hands are. he's also tender-headed as hell so, please be careful or you'll get a earful of him complaining.
"damn, ma. why you gotta pull so tight?"
ఇ . . . buys matching sets. he buys you both matching shoes, clothes, and jewelry. he likes the simplicity of being able to match with you and show everyone you're his without voicing it. you two are the couple that matches on christmas. matching christmas tree pants, and santa hats...rio thinks it's adorable. for your 5 month anniversary you were gifted a gold necklace with his name written in cursive and once he helped you put it on he revealed the necklace that was under his shirt that had your name in gold written in cursive. only time you two take it off is when you're in the shower/pool. he'll take it off during prowler business as well, he doesn't want to disclose any of his personal business at work, it's very dangerous for the both of you.
ఇ . . . cant sleep without you. once miles gets a taste of what life is like keeping you close and holding you to sleep, it's hard for him to go without it. he loves cuddling with you and if there were any instance where you two wouldn't be together he would toss and turn all night and look at the ceiling until his body physically shut down itself. it's not the healthiest way to go by so when he starts to show up to school with deeper eye bags than usual, you decide to give him a plushie of his own. he'll buy the plushie little clothes and change them every now and then. he names it after you, and he even bought the exact perfume you wear and sprays it on the stuffed animal before going to bed and cuddling it. he's embarrassed to admit it, so he'll never tell you how much he pampers it. (you don't need him to tho, you've caught him kissing the top of the stuffed animals head before cradling it in his arms and murmuring 'goodnight, mi vida.')
ఇ . . . will go to the barbie movie with you. he'll thrown on a pink hoodie, black jeans, and pair it with some jordan's while you're decked out from head to toe in pink. he's gonna cry at one point during the movie and you have to pretend you didn't see. when you ask him if he liked it he'll shrug his shoulders while sniffling. he def gave his mom a big hug when he got back home. :')
"yeah, yeah...it was alright, i guess."
ఇ . . . talks about you to his mom. mile's didn't speak much of you when he had a crush on you, but he really didn't have to. his mom knew there was something or more so someone occupying his mind whenever he'd come back from school with a slight dazed expression and the tiniest smile.
ఇ . . . graffiti's your initials together. whenever he's bored and has a little extra time on his hands he'll graffiti his and yours initials together. sometimes replacing your last initial with an 'M' for Morales..
ఇ . . . treats your stuffed animals like they're your children. he scolds you if he catches one of them on the floor, he'll name them future child names he has in mind because he def wants to get married and start a family w/ you, he gives them hugs and buys cute little tutu's for them. lowkey will throw a fit if he finds out you gave some of them away.
ఇ . . . buys/sends things that reminds him of you. he'll buy you your fave bag of chips if he sees it in the store, he'll pick up a keychain with your name on it and attach it to his bookbag, he'll send you memes or recommend a tv show because the character reminded him of you. you're really on his mind 25/8.
ఇ . . . bakes with you. he loves baking with you. you two will bake the hell out of some chocolate chip cookies or some brownies. nothing that takes too long or a lot of preparation though, he'll get antsy and kinda touchy which leads to burnt products and a ruined cake pan.
ఇ . . . shows you off/brags about you. his friends and close family members know all about you and your achievements. if you play sports he'll cheer you on and brag about your wins, if you're an artist he'll post your artwork, if you have a small clothing brand he'll wear it and tell people to buy from your store if they ask, if you knit/crochet he'll ask you to make him a bucket hat or a mini version of you and him, if you dance he'll stay up all night on the phone while you show him your new choreography. it doesn't matter what you do, miles will continue to support you and brag about any and every achievement you accomplish. big or small.
ఇ . . . miles morales loves his sweet soft significant other.
Tumblr media
currently re-writing my miles morales fic that was 6k words because tumblr decided to randomly delete it 🥲 i'll try to get it out soon! <3
also sorry for inactivity, i've been busy w/ school and work but i'll try to shoot out fics faster when i get the time :) !!
4K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 4 months
Text
Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge
Tumblr media
Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.
His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 
His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 
But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-
“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 
It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 
“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 
“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 
“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 
“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.
“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.
“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.
“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."
"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.
Purpose.
He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.
"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.
He's grateful he doesn't have to.
"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.
Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."
And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.
2K notes · View notes
atyourmerci · 22 days
Text
Sub!top Ellie getting whiny w a double-sided strap♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: smut, MDNI, double sided strap (referred to as E’s cock), sub!top ellie, power bottom brat reader, Ellie & reader are high, daddy kink fuck off!, breeding kink, why am I tryna fuck reader?, no y/n, no pdor
A/N: actual brainrot of me attempting to procrastinate my case study! (My first solo Ellie fic bahh scary)
𓆩♡𓆪
She always had it under control. Making sure you couldn’t see how fucking pathetic she got when your ass bounced on the base of her cock, sending the plastic inside of her to hit deep into her stomach.
Ellie would make you get on your elbows with your back arched for her so you couldn’t see her bottom lip abused by her teeth to hold back her whimpers. She’d cut into it till she bled to save face.
Sometimes you’d ignore her attempts at control in this position, sending your hips back so you can catch her red-handed. A whine would escape her clenched mouth, “stop fucking moving,” as she’d adjust her voice into a deeper octave in attempt to cover her slip-up. Ellie would grip down deeper into the flesh of your hips, stunting your dominance.
You’d beg to take control but she’d always promise to fill you up if you were good and did as you were told, “be daddy’s good girl and I’ll let you clean up your mess on daddy’s cock hmm?” You’d always give into her antics, too cock drunk to refuse watching her eyes half lidded as you licked her soaked cock afterwards, letting your tongue drag down to her stuffed hole leaking with the mix of both of your arousals.
This time you’d asked to smoke the second joint with her, knowing when she got so high she liked watching you ride her with the regular strap.
And if you accidentally handed her the double-sided one…
“Get the strap, need- need to f-fuck you now,” Ellie says in a pant, eyes bloodshot with smoke and lust as she aimlessly grinds her cunt into yours.
Sleight of hand, careless slip up of sorts as you hand her the strap adorned by two plastics. She doesn’t even look- lips never leaving yours and she shimmies up the straps to her hips feverishly- she couldn’t fuck you quick enough.
She’s so wet it slips right into her aching cunt. A pathetic whine trails out of her into your mouth, “baby th-this is- the- uh-“ she finds herself at a crossroad- so needy to fuck you but too deprived to not please herself.
“I know, is that okay el?” You say batting your lashes at the open-mouthed girl.
“Uh- yeah- mhm,” her eyes reeking of desperation.
She slips the tip into your leaking hole immediately, too distracted by the way her cunt throbs around the plastic. She attempts muffling her pleas with her teeth but she’s far too careless this time, pitiful moans spewing out as she drives sloppy thrusts into you.
“S-sound so pretty el,” you croak out so drunk on her desperation. “Feels f-fuck! feels so good inside,” she says eyes screwed shut gripping down onto the headboard behind your head.
She attempts at kissing you to no avail, mouth full of anguished whimpers. With her hands free from the grasp of the headboard you lock your ankles onto hers, flipping her back onto the bed.
You situate yourself into a straddle around her sweat slicked thighs. Ellie’s eyes are bewildered at your dominance- she’s. Fucked.
Your hands meet her swollen nipples, fingertips pinching at the rosy buds.
Another guttural cry elicited from the freckled girl comes as you bounce onto her slick cock, driving hers deep into her stomach. Her head is thrown back as she grips into the sheets- trying to not cum early like the fucking loser she was.
“B-baby I’m going to cum, s-slow down,” she pleas as tears wet her ducts. Her chest heaves as you relentlessly grind onto her, strategically applying pressure into her clit.
You drop your chest onto her, holding her jaw as you whisper into her ear, “cum in me daddy, I’ll lick up every drop, be your good little girl.”
Ellie can’t control herself anymore, gripping her hands into your hips so hard it’ll leave bruises. She drags your cunt up and down her clit to create friction, huffing out a string of curses and cries.
“Gunna fill this pussy for acting like this,” she squeaks out, so cute when she still thinks she’s in control.
“Please daddy- please!” You cry out. She could come from just hearing how desperate you get for her cock- and she has. Not that she’ll ever admit it.
“Fuck- oh fuck I-“ her words stop short as she bucks her hips up into you, her orgasm ripping through her. You grind onto her as her body shakes, losing completely autonomy.
“Thank you daddy,” you say kissing down her chest. Making your way down to her fucked out hole, completely soaked with arousal.
You were a good girl, licking every last drop Ellie so kindly made for you.
2K notes · View notes
sundrop-writes · 3 months
Text
Meddle About
Tumblr media
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader
‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.
It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .
Summary:
You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.
Reid vastly overthinks it.
So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.
Word Count: 6,300
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.
A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!
...
Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 
You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 
But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 
Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 
But you weren’t needed on that front today. 
No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 
The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 
He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 
You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 
Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 
After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 
(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 
You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 
Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 
“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 
When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 
“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 
It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 
Speaking of which: 
“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 
Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 
“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 
You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 
“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 
Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 
Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.
“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 
“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 
Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 
“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 
He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 
You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 
… 
You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 
So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 
He was being far too quiet for your liking. 
But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 
You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 
“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 
“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 
Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 
Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 
“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 
You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 
Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 
“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 
You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 
For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 
(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 
“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 
Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 
You continued. 
“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 
“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 
You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 
Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 
Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 
“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 
This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 
“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 
Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 
You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 
Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 
When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 
“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 
Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 
He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 
“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 
“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 
But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 
… 
The ex-wife didn’t know much. 
She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 
She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 
Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 
He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 
But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 
(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 
… 
Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 
So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 
By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 
… 
Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 
“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 
“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 
“Your room key?” 
You suppressed another grin. 
“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 
You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 
“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 
Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 
His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 
He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 
And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 
He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 
He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 
He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 
Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 
“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 
“I don’t think it was stupid.” 
You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 
“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 
Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 
A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 
Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 
That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 
It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 
“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 
You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 
He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 
All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 
“Nngh.” 
It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 
You giggled quietly. 
“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 
Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 
His mind was racing, chanting out: 
‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 
But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 
“Please.” 
“Good boy.” You sighed. 
You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 
It was cute, to say the least. 
You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 
“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 
You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 
He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 
If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 
His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 
“Here, come on, baby.” 
You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 
Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 
It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 
He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 
In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 
“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 
Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 
Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 
It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 
(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 
You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 
“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 
You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 
“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 
The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 
He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 
“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 
Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 
You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 
“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 
These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.
His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 
You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 
Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 
Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 
But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 
You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 
You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 
“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 
“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 
You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 
“So pretty baby.” 
He only whined in response. 
You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 
You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 
“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 
You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 
‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 
The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 
“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 
“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 
He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 
“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 
“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 
He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 
Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 
But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 
“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 
Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 
He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 
You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.
You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 
He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 
The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 
He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 
You came back with a small grin on your face. 
“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 
Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 
When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 
“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 
His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 
“Yes, Mommy.”
...
A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!
2K notes · View notes
tashasbabe · 3 months
Text
♱ late. — e.w drabble
“i’m still thinking about you.”
creds to @plutism & @chilumitos for the dividers!! :3
w/l : profanity, strap rubbing (i didnt know what to call it..), masturbation ౨ৎ i think thats all, lmk if i missed anything!!
not proofread + not using caps purposely.!
Tumblr media
“ellie, where the fuck are my keys?! i’m gonna be late for my meeting!!” you yelled, looking around for both your girlfriend and your keys. you continued your endless search when you didn't hear a response, then,-
“come ‘n find em’.” ellie murmured from behind you, wrapping her arms around you and pressing herself against you. you felt that familiar bulge in her pants, plus, your keys. she knew exactly what she was doing, and, fuck, if it didn't turn you on. “shit.” you murmured, turning around in her arms and quickly reaching into her sweatpants, grabbing your keys immediately, trying so fucking hard ignore the urge to cup her strap. 
“not even gonna touch ‘er?” she asked gently, pressing her hand over yours to stop you from pulling your hand out of her pants. “e-ellie, stop,” you murmured, stuttering as you looked back up at her, instantly hypnotized by the gaze she gave you, her deep green eyes sinking into yours. “please. i’m gonna be late.” you sighed, trying once again to pull your hand away from her sweatpants, which she denied you of doing by pressing her hand down further.
“i don't care, don't make me ask.” she almost growled, all of a sudden turning very, very stern. you immediately complied, moving your hand to press it against her strap, which made the base of it press deliciously against her clit. she grunted softly, and you pressed down harder, making her moan out loud. “good girl, now- fuuuck..- go.” she murmured, moaning during the middle of her sentence due to you starting to rub the strap, causing the perfect friction against her clit.
“mmh, bye, baby.” you giggled softly, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips before finally removing your hand from her pants. you made your way to the door soon after, yelling out another “bye” before walking out the door and to your car. 
about 30 minutes after you left, there ellie was, on the bed, completely naked. “ohh my fuuuuck, babyyyy..” she moaned loudly as she masturbated to the thought of you, rubbing her clit at a vigorous pace. 
౨ৎ it was no doubt that tonight would be the night she made you cum harder than you ever have before. all from a little teasing.
a/n : this is just a little drabble & my first fic post!! please leave feedback.. is it horrible?? i feel like it is, but yet again it might just be the fact i'm literally so bad with wording and have the smallest vocabulary known to man..
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes