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#just making a few cute gifs of a cute scene
pharawee · 7 months
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—Thank you, P'Tew, for getting me home. Sorry for troubling you.
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fairyroses · 8 months
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She was the only thing I was living for. I’m sorry for your loss, sir, but right now we need to get you airborne. Police will be here any minute. I’m well aware of that. I’m turning myself in.
— SMALLVILLE, “Bizarro” (7.01)
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THE BEST OF ATTICAN TRAVERSE: KROGAN TEAM
Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Urdnot Grunt With: Urdnot Wrex, Dr. Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus and The Rachni Queen I don't need luck- I have ammo. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)
#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard#james vega#EDI#urdnot grunt#urdnot wrex#mass effect#mass effect 3#me3#mass effect legendary edition#dailygaming#i finally finished gif’ing traverse and this set is cursed is all i will say :)#i don’t know why this one was such a pain in the ass but compressing them was a massive chore for some reason#and my dumb ass realized as i was assembling i set the frame hold wrong for like 4 of them so i had to go back and redo a few of them 🙃#the thing that pissed me off most is that there’s usually a nice planet shot with a normandy fly in to make a header from#and traverse just doesn’t fucking get one for some reason?? so ig we get rachni queen header#i’m so sorry but this is like my least favorite mission in the game 😭#like i do like grunt but this mission is just meh on all fronts to me at least#like the decision from ME1 to spare or destroy the rachni queen is so fucking cool?? and it has 0 consequences in ME3 LMAO#not to mention that half of this mission is just standing around with a flame thrower burning down webs lol#the only cool thing i’ll say is i ADORE the Aliens™️/xenomorph vibes that the mission has!! that is so cool the first time around#the cutscenes are alright but there’s really only some towards the front end and the back end? so you miss so much of the middle#which makes it hard to connect what’s going on to make a best of: set lol#grunt has some nice scenes if you have him here and the rachni queen quotes are cool#the enemies are also kind of interesting in concept? i just wish the rachni decision from ME1 had more weight here#james and EDI have a few nice lines towards the front in the shuttle but there’s not a ton of great dialogue like grissom has tbh#idk this mission is just okay to me i guess? like the ardat-yakshi sanctuary with samara is much more interesting to me#i feel like this one needed longer to cook and the rachni deserved more weight in the mission based on your decision in ME1#james and EDI looked cute like always!! and soph ate it up in cleric’s guardian armors for shepard (which continues to be gorgeous ❤️‍🔥✨)#idk seeing grunt and playing fashion dress up was the best part of this mission besides the wrex cameo at the end lmao
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supemaeve · 4 months
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Apparently, your work still has "Maggie Shaw" as your emergency contact.
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krys-loves-otome · 2 years
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(After confusing follow-unfollow button and wondering why the askbox didn't appear on screen, a young traveller finally finds the solution to their problem...)
Could I ask 💥, 🎉, 🤗 & 🦅?
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Fanfic Writer Emoji Asks
💥 How do you feel about criticism?
Constructive criticism, yes, that thing, I appreciate that. I have been getting more into the habit of asking some discord friends to help me beta some of my stuff and they offer constructive tips on how I could improve my writings.
Peeps can miss me if they're just being mean under the guise of 'criticism', tho. 'You suck and your work sucks.' is not a valid criticism. It's not pointing out something that can be improved if they feel there is a problem with your work. And it's plain rude.
"In this paragraph, you mixed up the tenses and I couldn't follow who was speaking very well in this scene. Just something to watch out for next time <3" s a valid criticism as it's pointing out a problem and it's something that is fixable. Plus, a little encouragement added on as you want to see more of their stuff and see how they improve in their next work by implying there to be a next time.
So, yeah, constructive criticism, good, always love that.  Criticism that's plain old mean, discouraging, and rude? Get that out of my face.
🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?
It's hard to say. An easy answer would be looking at the numbers it's doing, but that's not really a good measurement.  Some fics have longevity on their side. I started writing for IkeSen in 2019, so those fics have more notes than some of the more recent entries of the cybirb franchise I've written for. 
Some are written for more popular characters and it gets more spread that way (For me, it's always Mitsuhide, Masamune, and Arthur that usually do the numbers, all three very popular characters).
For others, it's the subject matter. Of the top five ikesen fics I have on ao3, for example, 3 of them are the pr0n stories. For tumblr, the story that has done the most numbers is Rub My Belly (which is in the that ao3 top 5 as number 3 for the IkeSen stories) while the top ikesen story I have on ao3 (Masa's Not Like I Would Say No Kitten) barely has 40 notes on tumblr. (though that one I blame that more on tumblr's blocking certain tags sometimes because I didn't have my regular spicy tag, but whatever)
Sometimes it's also fic length too. 1K to 2k-ish is my usual sweet spot for oneshots and that's usually where my top fics fall, word length-wise. Anything shorter (like when I do 100-word challenges or the two 221B stories I did, which have roughly 200 words each) they usually don't do as well as their longer companions. Anything above 4k requires more spoons and time than I have, so I tend to not do them often.
If it's not the numbers doing it, I think it's the personal satisfaction that you get out of it. Like, it doesn't have a lot of notes, plus made for a dying fandom, but I'm still proud of Reunion, one of my MidCin fics because of how hard I worked on it with adding description and story. I still love 'I've Waited for This' with Theo and my character Abby because of the lore building in it, and the reuniting of Vincent and Theo again in a believable way. And though it still gives me a ton of grief, I love Second Glance. It's my first long fic in a long time and I wanna see it flourish.
So, again, it's hard to say what makes a successful fic. But, I think, if you personally like it, then that's really all that matters, no matter how long you've been in the franchise you're writing for, who the featured characters are, what the story is about, or how long it is. If you're satisfied with it, then it's a successful fic as far as I'm concerned.
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
Don't give up on yourself. Even if the story you want to write has been done thousands of times before, or if the idea is weird or unconventional, or if you think you're too young or too old to be telling the stories you want to tell, or that you think your writing skills are subpar compared to your peers. I'm coming up on my fanfic writing anniversary next month and I'm still blown away that I'm still writing, even for as long as I have. And I don't plan on stopping any time soon.
🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?
Up until recently, I was (and still am, considerably so) write by the seat of my pants. An idea takes me and I run with it, running it into the ground in my notebook until I either exhaust the idea or it morphs into a different idea and then I focus on that one.
The only exception to this rule is Second Glance. It is a long fic, so naturally it's gonna need to some planning to keep it consistent within it's universe and story. It started getting an outline around part 3 and is helping me form the later parts. It helps me to keep characters straight and the plot straight so I can keep the focus I need to work the story as needed.
Though, do have to mention, it's a loose, loose outline, chapter 5 and onward, as shown here. (blotted out some parts because that's spoilers, shhhh~).
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So, yeah, keeping my 'by my pants' nature, but there is an element of planning, especially on longer works
Thanks for the questions (and the refollow, lol)
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celesterayel · 5 months
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the it couple | luke castellan
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request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶
summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.
"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.
w.c. : 702
warning(s) : none
pairing : luke castellan x reader
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the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another. 
you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.
you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn’t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.
you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.
despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.
“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.
you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”
no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 
you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.
luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 
you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 
when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 
when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.
yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.
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ashwhowrites · 13 days
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virgin!inexperienced!reader x older!eddie smut 🤭
grumpy x sunshine if that’s possible !!
eddie as the grump (he’s so cute)
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️smutty
The first time
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Y/N and Eddie had been together for a year, and it was the best relationship either of them had.
Eddie, of course, had more experience than she did with the dating world. He was in the dating scene longer than her and sometimes that made her nervous. It was clear Eddie was not a virgin, he had a dirty mouth and knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to set her body on fire and make her crave him more than air itself.
But, it also scared her. Eddie was her first long-term boyfriend, and knowing he was way older than her and had all this experience that she didn't. She was terrified to disappoint him, she wanted to be better than all the girls before, but she was inexperienced.
She always wanted to wait for the right guy and Eddie was that guy. He was patient with her, she never confessed she was a virgin, just that she wanted to wait until they had been together for a little longer. And the gentlemen he was, he had no issues about that.
Tonight was their big anniversary dinner, and she wanted to surprise him with a night neither of them would forget. She bought a sexy piece of lingerie that was tucked in the back of his closet. He was a man so she knew he wouldn't go searching.
Eddie held her hand as they walked into the restaurant. She walked behind him without a thought, she followed Eddie anywhere he led. His rough hand holding hers and the way his hair rested on his shoulders. He smelled amazing and looked even better in his dark jeans and long-sleeved shirt. She almost didn't want to wait until after dinner. She wanted to drag him to the car and let him have her right then and there. But she took a deep breath and forced herself to be patient. She had a plan and she wanted to follow it.
"A thirty-minute wait? For a reservation, I planned a month ago?" Eddie's annoyed tone brought her out of her sexy daydream. "What's the point of a reservation if you are going to make my girlfriend wait anyway?"
"Eds, it's fine. We can wait." her soft voice was in his ear. He might have been older and rougher on the edges but he always listened to her.
"You're lucky she doesn't care." Eddie threatened as he turned around. There wasn't much room to sit so Eddie took a seat on the last available chair, he grabbed her hand and brought her to sit on his lap.
She tried not to clench her thighs as she sat on his muscular ones. Eddie's soft hands brushed down her dress to make sure no one could sneak a single look at her. Then he left his hands on her thighs as his chin rested on her shoulder.
"Little grump," she teased as she reached up and ruffled his curls.
"Just want the best for you," he said sweetly as he kissed her shoulder.
~
They waited a few minutes and Y/N felt eyes burning into her. She tried to look without making it obvious. She smiled to herself as she saw a little boy looking at her with awe.
"Why are you smiling?" Eddie asked into her ear
"That little boy keeps staring," she laughed
"What? The kid with four eyes?" Eddie muttered as he looked over at the little boy with glasses.
"Eddie!" she gasped, "be nice. He's adorable," she said as she swatted his hand that rested on her thighs.
"I'm never nice," Eddie said with a smirk, he landed a soft pinch to her thigh. She jumped and squirmed, causing her body to rub against his jeans. She blushed as she heard a low moan come from his throat.
"I think you're jealous," she teased, maybe getting him a tad worked up before tonight would work in her favor.
"Of a kid that can't count to ten? Yeah right," Eddie scoffed, when Y/N looked away Eddie sent a glare to the little kid. The kid shrunk in his seat and turned to his mom as his bottom lip trembled.
"Oh no! He's crying!" Y/N said
"Oh well, the table's ready," Eddie said as he began to stand up. He laced his hand with hers and walked to their table.
~
The dinner was going amazingly. The food was delicious and Eddie had her laughing all night long.
But the closer they got to the end, the more turned-on she got. She kept up with her teasing, she rubbed her foot up his leg. She batted her eyelashes and softly rubbed his hand.
Then in the car drive home, her hand rested very high on his thigh. She pecked up and down his neck.
His head was spinning as he tried to keep his cool. He wanted nothing more than to shove his pulsing cock inside of her and watch her body shake. But he knew she wasn't ready and he respected that.
"Are you trying to make me crash the car?" he chuckled as he looked over at her before his eyes went back to the road.
She just laughed and didn't say anything.
Eddie pulled into his driveway and Y/N jumped out of the car.
"Why are you in a hurry?" He asked, using his long legs to catch up to her as she waited by his front door.
"I have a surprise for you," she whispered as she laced her arms around his neck
"Oh? And what would that be?" he asked back, he stepped closer so their bodies were right against each other.
"Need you to open that door and find out," she said, she leaned in and softly kissed his lips. He hummed and gladly kissed her back. Before it got any deeper she pulled away with his bottom lip between her teeth.
"Yes, ma'am," he teased, he let go of her body as she unlocked the door. She stood behind him and tried to shake off her nerves.
Eddie opened the door and she slipped off her shoes.
"You stay right here, and I'll call you when I'm ready," she said. She gave him another quick kiss.
She raced up to his bedroom and closed the door behind her. Eddie stayed downstairs like she asked, sitting in his living room as he cracked open a beer.
Y/N went into his closet and grabbed the box. She opened the box and grabbed out the red piece of lingerie. She slipped off her dress and slipped it on. She felt the heat on her face as she saw her reflection. She had never seen her body in something so sexy, but she liked it.
She shoved her dress in the corner and took out the candles and rose petals she had. She set up the room, candles lit on his nightstand and the petals on the floor, and leading up to the bed, a few scattered on the mattress.
She gave herself a small pep talk as she rubbed her perfume on her ankles and neck.
"READY!" she screamed then quickly raced to sit on the bed. She sat on her knees as she waited.
She heard his heavy footsteps go up the stairs, the closer he got the more nervous and excited she got.
He opened the door and shock was written on his face.
"Whats...a...what is all this?" he asked, his eyes taking in the candles and rose petals. Then his eyes landed on her and they stayed there.
"Wow," he mouthed, he slowly moved forward. He felt like he lost his breath when she crawled towards him. "You look incredible." He stood at the bottom of the bed as she finished crawling.
"Thank you," she smiled, she stood on her knees so she was closer to his height. "I'm ready," she whispered as her hands moved up his chest.
She watched as his eyes went wide with excitement. "As in ready ready?" he asked.
"As in I'm ready for you to make love to me," she said, her eyes staring into his as she waited for his reaction. She was nervous and negative thoughts filled her head the longer he was silent. What if she read it all wrong? What if he actually didn't want to have sex with her? What if- but her thoughts were cut off when Eddie pushed her body against the mattress and immediately crashed his lips on hers.
She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, his tongue was warm and strong just like his hands as they skimmed up her naked thighs.
He smirked into the kiss as he grabbed the garter on her thigh and snapped it against her skin. She pulled away with a whimper as her skin burned. His body was in between her legs as he stood on his knees, she panted below him as she watched him. He looked down at her as he reached and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it somewhere in the room before he leaned back down to connect their lips.
His naked chest was against hers as she ran her hands through his long hair. She shivered as she felt his hands begin to explore her body. His hands rubbed her thighs as he pushed her legs apart, giving his body more room as he settled in between her.
He pulled away to kiss down her chin and her neck. They'd made out before but now that both knew it was leading to something more, they couldn't help but grow more excited. She could feel his hard-on poking through his jeans against her thigh and she loved having that effect on him.
She gasped as he sucked gently on her neck, she couldn't wait to see the marks in the morning and have a reminder of this night.
Her head was thrown back as his tongue licked around the mark he left, and his hands moved up to massage her breasts. She shook as his fingers rolled her nipple between them. He slipped his other hand underneath the bra to free her breast. She moaned as he leaned down and wrapped his mouth around it. She never knew she could feel even more turned on by Eddie, but she was wrong.
Her hands went down his bare back as he tugged on her nipple with his teeth. She couldn't help but arch into him, pressing her chest even further into him.
"Pretty, pretty, pretty girl," he said against her skin as he moved his lips to her other nipple. He gave it the same treatment as she squirmed and panted.
She could feel her underwear getting soaked. Her cunt pulsed and ached. She wasn't sure what to do to make it feel better. She got scared and pushed Eddie back a little.
"You okay?" He asked, his lust-filled eyes flashed with worry. His body still leaned over hers as he looked down at her.
"I have something to tell you," she said with a deep breath.
"Hey, it's okay," he said softly and grabbed her hand. "We don't have to do this."
"NO!" She practically screamed in his face. He chuckled at her but waited for her to continue. "I want this and I want you." She reassured.
"Okay, then what's wrong?" He asked, she squeezed his hand and closed her eyes. Her body flushed with embarrassment.
"I've never done anything more than making out," she confessed. "Like ever, even with myself."
Eddie tried to hide his shock so he didn't embarrass her even more.
"Hey, that's alright." He smiled, and his free hand pushed back her hair. "We'll go very slow, and if there's something you don't like, I'll stop."
"Is it going to hurt?" She asked as she looked up at him.
"At first, but I'll make sure you are prepared, baby. I'll use my fingers to stretch you out a bit, once I'm in you it will hurt while you get adjusted. But I won't move, I'll stay until you are ready for me."
And that's why she felt so safe and ready with him. He didn't judge, he explained everything and she loved that he knew how to take his time with her.
"It already hurts, down there. Is that bad?" She asked.
Eddie tried to fight back a smirk, he wanted to be helpful. "Hurts down where baby? Show me." He might have been a little teased by acting clueless. But the inexperience in her eyes turned him on. He couldn't wait to be the only person that ever touched her this way.
She took the hand that was holding his and moved it down her body.
He followed her hand with excitement as she moved his hand to rest on her cunt.
"Right here?" He asked, then he pressed two fingers against her clit. She jolted forward at the feeling. The pressure felt like heaven as the ache soothed just a smidge.
She nodded
"That's good. This means I'm doing a great job at turning you on. That's your pretty cunt telling you that it needs some help." He explained, and then he began to move the two fingers in slow circles.
She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as she gripped his arm. A wonderful feeling she had never felt before rushed over her.
He pulled his hand away and she whined.
"No, it felt good!"
Eddie chuckled down at her and pecked her lips. "I know, but I'll make it feel even better." He said against her lips.
"You okay if I take these off?" He asked, his fingers ghosted underneath her underwear band and it made her shiver.
"Please," she moaned. She lifted up her hips and let him slide the underwear down her legs. His hands softly ran down her legs as he did.
"You are absolutely soaked, baby." He said with a smirk, loving the feeling of her soaked underwear against his fingers. He tossed them to the floor and moved his body down to settle between her legs.
She bit her lip as she watched him. His knees were on the floor as he yanked her body to the edge of the bed. She shivered at how easily he moved her.
"What are you doing?" She squeaked out. She went up on her elbows as she looked down at him. Memorized by seeing his head between her legs.
"I'm going to taste you, sweetheart."
She wanted to ask what that meant but she felt her jaw snap open when his tongue licked between her folds.
"Oh God," she whined. Her hands gripped the sheets as he did it over and over. She felt her arms growing weak as she tried to hold herself up so she could see him.
He looked up at her as he wrapped his mouth around her clit. He sucked on it gently, enjoying the way her arms gave out and she landed against the mattress.
He went slow and took his time to run his tongue over every part of her cunt. He flattened his tongue and licked right up to her clit, then flicked it with his tongue. He did it a few times then wrapped his lips around the clit again, sucking loudly.
He pulled away lightly, not without kissing her clit first.
"Put your hands in my hair and move your hips against my tongue." He directed.
She blindly followed, her hands slipped in his curls and she waited. Once she felt his tongue back on her clit, she rolled her hips. The feeling elevated as she yanked on his hair. He growled against her as he felt her yank his roots, but he loved it.
She was so lost in how good it felt, no idea that her hips were moving faster than her brain. She felt something, almost like it was building. The more she moved, the better it felt.
Eddie sat back and let her ride his face, he kept his tongue moving and his hands slipped up her thighs. He wished he had a camera so he could watch this over and over.
Her moans got more choked and whiny and Eddie had a good feeling of what that meant. He went to pull away but felt her hands shove his face right back down. He wanted to warn her what was coming but she wouldn't lose her grip. She pushed his head right where she needed it as her hips moved faster than ever. Her thighs clamped around his head and he was submitted to stay in place.
"EDDIE!" she cried out as something snapped. He moved his hand up her body and softly rubbed her stomach as she continued to ride his tongue.
She wasn't sure what she felt, but it was the best thing she ever experienced. She moved her hips through it, feeling it build then slowly going back down. Towards the end, she could feel her thighs twitch. She gasped as the pleasure turned painful. He licked up her mess, slurping up her cum as he tasted it on his tongue.
Eddie tapped her thighs and she got the hint. Releasing her grip and letting her legs fall against the mattress. Once his tongue was off, she felt the pain disappear.
"Jesus Christ, babygirl." He chuckled as he wiped his soaked mouth. "Wouldn't let me come up for air." He teased but he didn't mind. He'd suffocate between her thighs for as long as she was willing.
He softly rubbed her cheek and pushed her sweaty hair back. "Did that feel good?"
She nodded, lost for words and air.
"Well, that is what an orgasm feels like. You can get pretty sensitive afterward and that's when it'll start to hurt. Just give yourself a few minutes and it'll go away and feel good again." He explained
"Can I taste you while we wait?" She asked, her innocent eyes had no idea how heavy her words felt.
"Fuck, you wanna suck me off, pretty girl?" He teased, traced her lips, and used his thumb to pull down her bottom lip.
She nodded, "Please,"
"Wanna help me get these off?" He asked, he nodded down to his pants. In a flash, she was working on his jeans and dragging them down his legs.
She leaned back and took in his body. His pasty skin and dark black tattoos. His hairy chest and his happy trail trailed down and disappeared into his boxers. She leaned down and kissed his chest, just like he did to her. Then she kissed down to his stomach and landed above his boxers. She could see the outline of his cock and it made her whimper.
She slowly reached forward, almost scared to move too fast. She traced her fingernails underneath his boxer's strap. She watched as his stomach moved up and down at a fast speed and he shivered.
He lifted his hips and they both pulled down his boxers.
"Well, I'm completely naked and at your mercy. I think this should go." He said, his fingers ran over the bra she wore. She smiled and moved her hands behind her. She unclipped her bra and dropped it to the floor.
Eddie looked at her naked body, even better than any wet dream he had about her. Her neck was covered in his bruises.
Her eyes looked down at his cock, and they widened in shock. He was thick, red, and long. She gulped as she reached forward and traced the veins. His cock jumped at her touch. She yanked her hand back and looked at him.
"It's okay, means it felt good." He reassured her. He smiled down at her as she reached forward again. She ran her fingers up and down.
"Just softly wrap your hand around it. Keep it loose because you'll want it to be able to move. It's gonna be a little wet so spit before you move."
She listened to his instructions. She gathered spit from the back of her throat and aimed for his tip. She watched as it began to slide down, she helped rub it in. Now his cock glistened.
She wrapped her hand around him, loose like he said.
"Now move up and down," he braced himself as she began to jerk him off. He felt his eyes roll in the back of his head. Her touch was nervous and slow, but it felt amazing.
"Little faster," he croaked out. She watched his body for reactions as she moved her hands faster.
"That's it, baby." He moaned. She smiled as she seemed to be doing it correctly. With a little confidence, she moved forward and pressed her lips along his hips. She kissed just below his happy trail, his pubes tickled her chin.
Then she moved down and released her hands. Her mouth was right above his cock as she licked her lips.
"Want it in your mouth, pretty girl?" He asked, his hand moved down to grip his cock. He gave it a slight squeeze.
"Yes," she breathed out.
"Open your mouth," he demanded. She nodded and opened her mouth. He used his free hand to hold her hair back. He used his other hand to guide his cock inside her mouth. Just barely fitting the tip in at first.
"Gonna wanna open your throat and keep your tongue down. It's gonna be uncomfortable b-" he was cut off as she immediately took him fully down her throat.
"FUCK," he moaned loudly as she gagged. She wasn't sure where the confidence came from but she loved that he lost control. She moved herself back up, having him halfway in her throat. She breathed hard through her nose before she took him fully in again. She concentrated hard as she focused on keeping her throat open and sucking at the same time.
"Doing amazing, he praised. His hand stayed in her hair as he slowly moved his hips. He moaned as he hit the back of her throat and she loudly gagged. "Hold it, just a second." He begged. His body shook in bliss as he sat fully in her throat, the sound of her gags turned him on even more.
He pushed her head off and let her get air. His cock was covered in her spit as she coughed and gasped for air.
"Good?" She choked out, her throat already wrecked.
"If you stayed on any longer I would have come down your throat." He laughed, he fought to catch his breath.
"I think I'm ready again," she said, she could feel the wetness in between her legs and that ache returning.
She crawled up his body and softly placed herself down on his stomach.
"You wanna ride me?" He asked. She was full of surprises.
"Yes," she said.
"Gotta prep you first." He said as he leaned forward and pecked her lips.
"What do I do?" She asked
"Just gonna move you down a little," he said, he moved her body down in between his legs. He softly pushed her back, and her back hit the mattress.
He moved so he was hovering over her. He ran his fingers through her wetness, spreading it around and all over his fingers.
"Ready?" He asked, his fingers waiting outside her entrance.
"Yes," she said. She clenched her eyes as she waited. He slowly slipped a finger inside of her.
~
"Okay, baby. You gotta go slow though." He said. He held her hand with his left, then used his right hand to hold his cock as she slowly sunk down on it.
"Ow, ow" she cried as his tip entered.
"I know, nice and slow. It'll feel better." He said softly.
Shs took a deep breath and sunk further down. She took inch by inch, it hurt the more he filled her. But his soft whispers and his thumbs rubbed her skin, calming her down.
"That's it, good girl." He wiped the tears that fell down her cheeks. And softly kissed her lips.
She sat half way on him, she was worried his whole length would hurt too bad. She slowly picked up her hips then went back down. It took her a second to find a rhythm, but once she did, it finally felt good.
Eddie gripped her hips in a bruising grip. She was tight and so warm around him. He had to keep control of himself. She wanted to ride him so he needed to be patient. But the way she felt, the way she smelled, and the way she sounded, he wanted nothing more than to flip them around and ruin them both.
"So good," she whined, and she began to bounce on him. Eddie slowly lifted his hips up, pushing his cock further inside of her. She whimpered at the feeling but started to bounce faster.
"That's it, baby. Ride my cock, make yourself feel so good." He praised, his hot lips back on her neck as she bounced. He moaned against her skin as she squeezed him. His hands moved down to her back, then squeezed her ass. He scooped under her ass and helped her bounce on him. Her skin was sweaty and sticky as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He moved his head out of the way, allowing her naked chest to be right against his. Her breasts bounced between them.
Her breathing picked up as she felt that feeling building again. But she also felt her body growing tired. Her bounces slowed as she panted.
Eddie understood without a single word.
She gasped as he flipped them over in seconds and his cock buried inside of her. She screamed at the new position, his cock fully inside of her. His tip was hitting a spot inside of her that made her whole body buzz.
"Yes, yes, YES!" she screamed as she clawed at his neck. He had so much control over her and she loved it. She loved that he knew exactly how to fuck her.
"Fuck, so fucking tight." He moaned, he wrapped a leg around his waist as he buried himself even deeper inside of her. He quickened the pace of his thrusts as he felt his own orgasm approaching.
"Close?" He asked, his fingers on her clit as he began to rub it in circles
"uh huh." She moaned, it felt even better than the first time. That feeling burned in her stomach and snapped as she arched her back.
"That's my good girl," he praised as she cried out.
Eddie felt himself about to release so he was quick to pull out
"No, please. Want it in me." She begged, her hands pushed on his back and she hooked her legs around his waist.
"Baby, I don't have a condom."
"I don't care, please" she begged again, her voice whiny
Like Eddie could say no to that
He shoved his cock back inside of her, continuing at a fast pace as he chased his release. His moans mixed in with hers as he placed his hands by her head. She wanted to watch as he came, forcing her eyes to stay open. The way he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. His sweaty bangs stuck against his forehead.
"Make me yours. Fill me up," her dirty words pushed Eddie straight over. He bit down on her shoulder as he emptied himself inside of her.
"Fuck, baby." He panted. He pecked her cheek before he slowly slipped out of her. She squirmed when she felt his fingers slipping inside of her. "Just making sure you are full," he winked.
The wink enough made her want to do it all over again.
"Let me clean you up," he whispered. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and softly cleaned her up. She flinched but took deep breaths as he tried to move quickly.
Once he was done, he threw it back to the floor and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and cuddled into his neck. Her fingers softly ran through his curls as she closed her eyes.
"That was the best thing I've ever felt," she laughed
He softly traced shapes on her shoulders.
"Me too, I love you." He said as he picked up her chin.
"I love you too," she smiled as he leaned in. They shared a sweet kiss that made her body set on fire.
"Happy anniversary," she whispered, her lips on his again.
She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. He pushed her on her back and had his body on top of hers. His hands were already working down her body again.
The night didn't end there for either of them.
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reiderwriter · 1 month
Text
Flirting with the FBI
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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the beginning
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words: 1.4k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, pretty fluffy and cute tho, male masturbation, kinda creeping on reader by masturbating to pics of her?, p in v sex, brief male receiving handjob, unprotected sex, a bunch of different scenes with time gaps this isnt one continuous fic if that makes sense?
“your bikini is so cute.” you tell your friend, looking at your own swimsuit in the mirror.
“i have another one in a different color, you wanna borrow it?” julie offers.
“girl, yes!” you squeal as she digs through her closet before tossing the small material to you. you were invited on rafe camerons boat, and while you chose your best swimsuit, you just moved to the outer banks from new york city and don’t have a ton of options.
you put the swimsuit on before standing next to your friend. “we look good.” you nod.
“damn girl, the boys are gonna be all over you.” “hopefully including rafe.” you say, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. it didn’t take you long to learn that rafe was the it boy of the outer banks, the kook prince, and that all the girls wanted him. you didn’t get the hype until you met him at a party and instantly became attracted.
“there’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep his eye of you.” julie encourages you, before glancing at her phone. “we better get going.”
you nod, looking one last time in the mirror before putting your coverup on and following julie out of her room.
--
“hey rafe.” you smile at him, letting him sling his arm around your shoulder. you’ve been flirting a lot, its how you got invited onto his boat along with a few other friends, but you haven’t progressed past just talking.
“hey.” rafe tugs you into him, making you press against his shirtless torso, in just his swim shorts. “wanna come up and drive with me?”
“yeah.” you nod, briefly looking to julie to make sure she was good, but she's already twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes at kelce.
you follow rafe up to the stairs to the second story of the yacht where the captains helm is. you sit next to him on the bench as he steers the boat out of the marina. 
“this is a really nice boat.” you comment. “maybe you should give some advice to my parents on what to buy, my dad is looking but has no clue what is good.” you say without thinking, before cringing at your words, worrying rafe might mistake your small talk as wanting him to meet your parents.
“ah yeah, didn’t have much opportunities to own a yacht in new york, huh?” rafes says as his arms move the wheel, making your attention shift to his muscles.
“nope.” you shake your head. “but i’m glad we moved, i love the city but its really nice to be somewhere… calmer.”
“i’m glad you moved too.” rafe says with a smile, making you blush as you nod at him. you manage to make the small talk not overly awkward as he drives the boat out towards the ocean before finding a place to drop anchor and hang out for a bit.
“wanna swim?” rafe asks as you both head down the stairs, rejoining the group.
“yeah.” you nod, pulling your coverup off over your head. you toss it onto a soft before turning to rafe, who is staring down at your body, blatantly checking you out as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth.
he doesn’t snap out of it until topper claps him on the shoulder. “i got the ladder in for us, man.”
“yeah, yeah thanks.” rafe nods, eyes finally flicking up to meet yours.
“y/n! jump in with me!” julie calls.
“lets go?” you tilt your head, looking to rafe.
“wait before you jump in i want to get a picture of everyone.” rafe shouts out, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to topper. “you'll take it?”
“yeah, sure.” topper says, looking at his friend a little strangely.
you all group together on the front deck, rafe moving so you’re in the center, his arm around your waist as you smile at the camera. you change your pose a couple times as topper continues to snap pictures, including turning towards rafe and placing your hand on his abs, still grinning as you pose.
rafe eyes up topper as he leans and picks you up, topper getting the message to record as you let out a shriek, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulder as he hurdles towards the water before jumping off the back deck, sending a spray of water as you let go of him and swim towards the surface.
you push the hair out of your face before sending a splash in rafes direction, scrunching your brows to show your anger at getting tossed in, but you can’t help the smile that stretches over your cheeks.
--
rafe gives you a tight hug, not caring that your hair is still wet and smelling of salt water. “i had fun today.”
“i did too.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press your lips to his cheek. 
“what are you doing tomorrow?” rafe questions.
“why, wanna take me on a date?” you ask, biting your lip as your eyes glance between his eyes and his lips.
“and what if i do?” rafe smirks.
“then i’m definitely free.” 
“pick you up at 6:30 then.” rafe says, pulling you against him again before letting you go, watching you get into julies car.
--
“fuck.” rafe groans, hips thrusting forward as he fucks his fist, phone pulled open to the pictures he had topper took. he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else, he cropped everyone out but you, in your tiny lilac bikini.
rafe groans, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut as he squeezes the head of his dick, imagining it was you instead, either your mouth on him or you spread out below him, moaning as he fucks into your cunt.
rafe thinks about texting you, about begging you to come over, but he remembers your date tomorrow, knows what is going to happen after if things go well. he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, but you’re too pretty, too enticing as he swipes to the next photo, the photo of you turned to the side, hand on his bare abdomen.
he looks at the curve of your ass, the way the bikini hugs your hips. rafe strokes faster, imagining his hand making impact with your bum, watching the skin ripple.
“y/n.” rafe groans out your name as he cums, releasing over his stomach as he squeezes himself until he’s satisfied, smiling as he swipes again, this time to the video of him picking you up and running into the water.
--
“this is easily the best first date i’ve ever had.” you say as rafe drives you home. it was surprisingly simple, a picnic on the beach all set up by rafe, and then some live music on the pier.
“mine too.” rafe says, placing a cautious hand on your thigh, relieved when you smile at him.
“you know…” you begin as rafe pulls up to your door. “my parents are back in new york this weekend.”
“really?” rafe hums, bringing the car up the driveway.
“if you’d like to come in for some… tea.” 
“tea, sure.” rafe nods, turning his truck off.
you move quickly inside. while you made up the tea excuse to get him in, you both know what the intentions are as rafe presses you against the wall of the entrance as soon as the door swings shut behind you, his lips meeting yours.
--
“good morning.” you mumble, turning over in rafes arms, both still naked from the night before.
“morning.” rafe says, his voice gruff from just waking. he moves a hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face. “you look beautiful.”
“not too bad yourself.” you smile, pressing your lips against rafes.
the kiss instantly wakes him up as his hand moves to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he turns so he’s over top of your body, your hair flared out on the pillow.
you smirk into the kiss when you can feel rafe growing against your stomach. you reach down with one hand, grasping his shoulder to keep him close and kissing you with the other while you stroke his cock, getting it to full hardness quickly.
“when are your parents home?” rafe asks suddenly when he pulls away.
“um-” your brain briefly doesn’t work at the randomness of the question. “monday evening.” “i say-” rafe says, reaching down and grasping his cock, pushing your hand out of the way as he rubs the head of his cock through your pussy. “we spent the entire weekend in bed then.”
you gasp as rafe thrusts into you, filling your cunt in one swoop. “sounds good to me.” you say, before pulling him back into a kiss.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary
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screampied · 2 months
Note
yuki and reader scissoring while choso begs to be in the middle ,,, vegas do you see the vision 🗣️🗣️🗣️
❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso being the third wheel between you & yuki
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warnings. fem! reader, cucking, scissoring, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.
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“such a pretty girl,” she’d purr in a soft voice—her hand gripping against your heel as she’s gradually rocking herself against you. you couldn’t suppress the sweet mewls and moans from your glossy lips even if you tried. your legs were all sprawled out and yuki’s on top of you—rubbing her clit against yours and it feels simply euphoric. “heh, gotta keep up with me angel,” she creates kiss trails near your heel. her pace had so much rhythm, you’re just slumped back against the bed with your mouth slightly dangling open. “mhm. fuck me back jus’ like that, thereeee we go.”
it was so much mobility of her hips, you bit your lip as your eyes roam all over her body—she’s grinding against you continuously and you let off a moan once her legs interlace with you further. her pussy jerks against yours and you whimper out a sweet, “y—yuki, f-fuckkk.”
choso gulps, watching his two lovers bump clits in such a sensual way—his pout displays against his lips before he speaks in a needy tone, lowering his head towards the blond. “yuki, i want a turn too. you’re being s-stingy with her.”
“i told you to be a good boy ‘n wait, choso,” she murmurs, averting her eyes back towards you before silencing your syrupy sweet moans with a kiss. you’re out of breath, practically dragging your hands up her spine before pulling her closer towards the warmth of your body. you taste the remains of her favored lipgloss on your tongue before she departs, watching choso frown. “aw. just a few more minutes then you’ll get a turn, baby.”
“s—stop calling me that, yuki.” he mumbles, glancing down at you before softly strumming a thumb against your tummy.
“make me, pretty boy.” she jibes, giving him a quick wink before going back to kissing you.
“you’re . . you’re being a brat, yuki,” choso huffs out a cute irritated sigh. he leans close to give you a kiss. they’re both competing with you, solely on who can coat you with more kisses.
choso softly strums a thumb near the edge of your chin, pulling you closer into a deep kiss.
he tastes sweet . . sweeter than he’s ever been.
even though, yuki’s continuing to vigorously sway her hips against yours—your right arm hooks around her waist as she’s rutting back and forth, about to fall into a blissful spasm.
“i— i want you,” choso speaks between soft breaths, foreheads meeting against each other. the way he was trying to get between you both was so cute.
one kiss turns into two, then three, then four . .
a plethora of adoring pecks near your lips. when choso’s horny and needy, it’s adorable.
he literally can’t keep his hands to himself.
he allows his hands roam all over your body as yuki’s slowly lifts up your leg a tad bit higher.
with the angle she has, her sopping cunt resumes to clash against yours. the moist wet plops of squelches that escaped from the both of you were so lewd.
the entirety of the provocative scene taking place was simply downright dirty. the blonde woman starts to moan herself the second she feels a sudden rapture pool up inside her clenched abdomen.
“my . . my,” she squeaks, a sheepish smile going against her lips before she picks up her pace a bit more. her voice was teasing, a mere harmony to listen to.
she feels the slight twinge that lasts for only a second, it shifts into pleasure and you’re surely about to lose it. yuki pulls choso away from you before kissing you again for probably the umpteenth time. with a pout, he watches before not expecting yuki to bring him into a kiss also.
“oh you big baby,” she hums playfully, still grinding against you—with the obscene view, your eyes linger towards her chiseled abs that flex and tense with each jerk she creates forward. she’s unintentionally sexy, with a brief moment of her hips—you gaze as a few beads of sweat race down her stomach and she shoots you a sly grin. “if you wanted a kiss, choso all you had to do was ask.”
“y—yuki..” choso moans, melting into butter just from her coquettish actions.
her plump lips were so soft as they went against his, you felt your cunt twitch at watching them make out. choso doesn’t know what to do with his hands and she titters, grabbing his hands to place on her waist. still multitasking, she’s keeping up her rhythm at pulverizing her hips steady against you. so wet, the noises that squealed from your pussy rings throughout your ears and even reverbs across the entire room.
the both of you were close—substantially approaching that familiar unavoidable release. tips of your ears grew out to be so hot, your hand drags towards her ass to squeeze it and she giggles.
“aw,” she teases, pulling away from choso for a breath of fresh air. he’s so embarrassed—but he didn’t exactly want her to pull away. choso subtly licks his lips before averting his eyes back down toward you. the stimulation, you find your back starting to arch before feeling your climax arise at such a rapid speed. it was sporadic the way everything was happening at once. “kiss our girl while she cums, choso.”
“f— fine,” he stammers, and he’s trying to keep up his jealous grumbly facade but he’s clearly failing. he didn’t know who he wanted more—you or yuki. alas, it was choso, so more than likely he wanted you both. and he did, he leaned up close before lowering his head toward you. you heave, breaths becoming more and more heavy before he softly laps his tongue against the inner part of your neck. you moan from his sweet touch, feeling choso then start to coat the entire frame of your collarbone with nothing but kisses.
“s—so sweet,” he croons, starting to gingerly nibble against your skin. “let yuki make you cum, c’mon princess,” and he leans in to kiss near your lips, “mwah,” he coos, skimming a thumb against the crevices of your mouth before staring at you. his naturally drowsy stare, it was so loving. he was still needy, yet seeing you so close to your orgasm was enough to make him wanna please you even more. after all, your pleasure was always their pleasure. “pretty girl.”
“yuki i’m gonna c—cummm,” you’d huff out in irregular pants, feeling the familiar coil within you be on the very edge of snapping. your hand squeezes yuki’s wrist and she’s just as vocal as you. sweet voice honeyed with such smoothness that you could listen to her all day.
she moves choso aside, hearing him grumble cutely before she kisses you again this time, every few seconds she breaks away before whispering, “give it to me baby,” and soft cacophonies along the sides of, “come on. make a mess all on my pussy.”
her words, it was filled with such dirtiness. she stares into your eyes, your hands merely dragging her hips back and forth before you end up cumming. yuki matches your peak, a gasp rippling from her lips before she slows her thrusts down.
“fuckkkk, sweetheart,” she moans, still grinding against you but she slows down—reaching a hand between your legs to spread your swollen lips open. she runs a thumb down your slit, watching you twitch and spasm before he exhales deeply. yuki giggles, feeling choso’s chin rests against her shoulder. he was done being patient, and he wanted attention too. “fine, fine. so impatient.”
she gets off of you and you’re catching your breath before choso sits you up. he peppers a few sweet kisses near your neck before whining.
“waited so long,” he shakily sighs. as you run a hand down his chiseled chest, he gets up between you and your nude body. as he inches closer, that’s when you feel it. choso’s hardened boner that poked through his shorts, he was embarrassed—but he wanted you so bad. mwah, another kiss presses against your forehead before he spreads your legs, softly rubbing against your sensitive entrance. “now it’s m-my turn, princess. just lie back ‘n let me do everything o—okay?”
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lunartulips · 4 months
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𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
Very loving lover. To say the least. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him since he’s been in hell
Alastor would greet you in the morning with a big smile
“Good morning! It’s absolutely deadly in hell isn’t it?” Or if you walk in and see him eating then he’ll offer you a plate. Even if it’s a dead deer.
“You look well-rested, care for some deer?”
Since he’s the radio demon and feared by many he’ll make sure that you’re protected at all cost. Even bribing Husker to watch over you when he can’t, with booze of course
“Do take care of them I’ll be stepping out for a moment”
“Yeah yeah, got it now go”
Compliments I feel are a must. He’ll say compliments during the day or randomly. Smiling and looking straight at you when he does.
“My, don’t you look breathtaking today-!”
Flirting, probably would or won’t. When he does he’ll be a gentleman when he speaks. Holding your hand and adding a gentle kiss when he’s done, very like him. In a low tone voice to feel flirtatious
“My my, what a darling demon we have here~”
“Acting shy now? How adorable”
Alastor would be very protective and wouldn’t hesitate to tear a few limps off to protect you. Since he’s so gruesome with handling ‘enemies’ he’ll probably distract you from seeing such things with your own eyes. Or hold you close to his chest as he unleashed his wrath on another
“Hm? Oh don’t worry at all-! I’m simply ℒℰᎯᏉℐℕᎶ Ꭿ ℳℰЅЅᎯᎶℰ….”
“Don’t worry, how about some dinner hm? I’ll let you wait inside-!”
Very cute nicknames for you. Like darling, dearest, and honey. Alastor will call out to you using those names to find you, even in front of everyone, had no shame or embarrassment about it
Even outside of the hotel when he takes walks
“Ah-! There you are darling-!”
Oh boy….when this demon is jealous it’s every sinner for themselves. With you he’ll do his best to hold back so he wouldn’t scare or hurt you. Of course everyone else from the hotel will be staring and just watch. Charlie would probably try to calm him down before more heads roll. But Angel Dust would probably edge him on.
“Uh, Alastor? Please calm yourself please?”
“No! Keep going! So them who Y/N’s lover!”
There’ll be lots of blood and destruction when he’s jealous but of course he’ll won’t immediately go to violence when he’s jealous. Alastor can also stay close to you and place a protective hand either on your shoulder or around your waist. And would just give them eyes of death to the demon or person who dares talk to you in front of him
Dates would be very causal. Either meat dinners or hanging out with him listening to the radio
Love Language would be Quality time <3
Walks around the city in the wrath ring or joining him in his recoding studio when he’s on the air. When you work in the Hazbin Hotel he’ll pop in to checkup on you. And, when needed, he’ll help you in any way he can. He’ll make sure that you to have lots of time together both during work hours and when you clock out.
“You look like your struggling with this, allow me my dear-!”
Holding hands will be included with this relationship, along with him smiling a lot both at you and in general. Like the gentlemen he is he’ll make sure that your smiling with him.
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile~”
Alastor would be a very interesting demon to date with. Protective and old fashioned. Always smiling and would hum songs to you when you’re stress
Not only that. He’ll make sure you will avoid the three V’s/Vees. Especially Vox. If that does happen or you accidentally cross paths make sure you have a pair of sunglasses and stay behind a strong building before things get very ugly well quick unless you want to see such horrific scenes
But if that doesn’t happen then all things should be float
𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
written by Lunartulips ☾ & ✿
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sm-baby · 1 month
Note
Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?
More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3
I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕
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I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.
The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!
Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!
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You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!
More on them later at the end! :3
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Dream sequence theory
Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!
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Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.
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And then she wakes up, freaked out!!
Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!
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This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3
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also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!
Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!
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Whats up with Jax?
hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...
We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!
I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.
...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner
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If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,
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Then It escalates
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This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.
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Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.
I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!
I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.
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BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!
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Text
People Watching - Lando Norris
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⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader
⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have
⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]
⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
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You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 
“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.
“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 
Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 
“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 
You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 
“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 
“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 
“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 
You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 
After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.
“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”
You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”
“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 
“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 
“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”
The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.
The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.
At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.
The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.
However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.
Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.
With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.
Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.
“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”
“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”
“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 
He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 
“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 
Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 
As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.
There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.
Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.
Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.
"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."
You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."
He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."
You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."
"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.
You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."
Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"
"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 
He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"
You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."
"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 
"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.
As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.
And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.
Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.
A thought strikes you down.
Do you love Lando?
Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.
An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 
Does Lando love you?
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⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment
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1K notes · View notes
darkroomkisses · 1 year
Note
Uh, can I request a dark!ethan with quinn's scene in the bathroom but instead of her being the reader, where gf!ethan is waiting for her to fuck her w non-con. Thank you!
hope it is understood, English is not my first language
Rejected (Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader)
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A/N: Oh spicy! Yes, pretty sure I understand you! I hope this is to your liking, I changed some stuff from the scene in the movie. Danny doesn't see ghostface in the room. Went a little darker toward the end (oops) Thanks Anon <3
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Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader
Summary: After rejecting Dark!Ethan when he asks you on a date, he's angry enough to kill. So he does just that, he kills your hookup and fucks you after. READ TAGS!
Warnings: NON-CON,SMUT, Dark!Ethan Landry, Ghostface Ethan Landry, fem!reader, Murder, Choking, Unconscious reader, Dacryphilia, Possessive!Ethan, Jealous!Ethan, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, marking, biting, Face Slapping, slight slut-shaming. Don't read if uncomfortable with dark themes, other than that ENJOY!! 🥀
Banner by @straywords 🥀
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Ethan has been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. Whenever he would come over to the apartment you shared with Sam and Tara, he would watch you so intensely, some of the times you noticed but it didn’t bother you too much, but it made you a little uneasy.
His eyes were so dark and fierce you felt like your skin might set ablaze. His eyes never leave you when you all hang out. All that ran through his mind was wrapping his hands around your neck watching you shiver under him as he forced himself in you. He wanted to look into your fearful eyes and see sweet tears running down your pretty face. 
About a month ago, Ethan mustered up the courage to ask you on a date, you giggled at his shy attempt to ask you out and rubbed his face, telling him you only see him as a friend. Those words haven’t left his mind since only playing on repeat as he laid in bed every night.  
It was late in the evening, The house lively with the gang spending time together in the kitchen, completely distracted from what was going down in the other room.
That was perfect for Ethan, he was preparing for his attack, hiding away in your closet. He was ready to kill the loser who just fucked you in two pumps leaving you disappointed and needy for more. Ethan was seething with rage because what the fuck did this fucker have that he didn’t? The fucker didn’t even make you cum. His cock half hard thinking about what he wanted to do to you. The fucker went into the bathroom leaving you alone in the bedroom. You slipped your nightgown back on and pulled out your phone, turning to the side. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore.
“Babe, you coming to join me?” The guy yelled from the bathroom; you met him earlier that night at a frat party, he was cute, and you were drunk. You put your phone down for a second to respond “No and don’t use my face wash it’s pH-balance for women” you yell, “yeah whatever you say” he yells back. You go back to your phone, giggling at the video you were watching. Unaware of the dark figure looming over you, after a few seconds of Ethan running his eyes over your figure, his fingers twitching desperately wanting to touch you. He slipped out of your room to kill that loser in the bathroom.
Ethan finished the job, he sighed out, fuck it felt good to kill that alpha fucker who was a two-pump chump. But what he had planned next would feel even better. Ethan slipped back into your bedroom quietly to not disturb you. You hadn't moved from your position. Ethan leaned over you in a quick motion, hand over your mouth, all his bodyweight pinning you to the bed the blade was at your neck, the slightest pressure pushing into you.
Your eyes widen, you gear up to scream as you meet the big dark eyes of Ghostface. You started to cry, Ghostface just stared down at you, his hand tight on your face. You screamed against his hand, your body shaking with fear, you were going to be killed. Ghostface shook his blade in your face, shutting you up instantly.
Ethan smiled under the mask; happy his plan was playing out perfectly. His cock was hard and leaking already. You looked even more perfect than he pictured late at night when had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, getting off to the thought of you. Your eyes were puffy and red, your tears couldn’t stop falling. Ethan took his blade and ran it down your short nightgown, tearing it in half and exposing your bare body to him, your breathing started to speed up at the realization of what was about to happen.
You heard a quiet moan from Ghostface, your blood running cold. “Scream and I'll kill all your fucking friends in the kitchen” Ethan said in the Ghostface voice making you shiver. You couldn’t let your friends die because of you. You shook your head quickly. Ethan took his hand from your mouth to squeeze one of your boobs he leaned his head down to your neck, rutting against your core, it took everything in you to not throw up at the feel of his hands exploring your body and the heavy breathing in your ear made your stomach turn.
Once Ethan got his feel, his free hand moved down to your wet pussy, his gloved hand stroking all over. Ethan was surprised how wet you were, and it was all for him. Ethan hovered over you to get a better look at your wet core. Ethan let go of the knife to remove his gloves. He had to feel you properly against his skin. He returned his hand rubbing your clit, you let out a soft hum, Ethan snapped his head up to see your face. It was exquisite, your face twisted like you were trying to hold back your pleasure.
That twisted his desire to get you to make more pretty noises for him. He wanted to hear you cry out, with that he pushed his fingers deep into you, hard and fast. You let out a broken moan, whimpering for him to stop. “p..please stop, please” you pant, with your lips quivering. Ethan let out a half laugh. “Why would I stop when you feel so good?” he said rutting faster and making circles on your clit with his thumb, determined to make you cum...hard. “Fuck you feel so good y/n” Ethan moaned your name lewdly. Your eyes widen, your thoughts running a mile a minute now, trying to think who the fuck this was. You didn't have much time to think, your fear and arousal ramping up to another level, your orgasm threating to crash down on you.
Your legs start to shake, your back arches against him your chest raising, and he takes his other hand and grabs your boob squeezing so tight, he pinches your nipple, rolling it with his fingers. He wanted to bring your tit into his mouth and suck hard on your hard nipple.
You clenched down hard on his fingers, he’s breathing deep into your ear, encouraging you on. “Good girl, cum on my fucking fingers” Ethan growled into your ear. You came down from your high, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Between the crying and the orgasm that had you shaking uncontrollably you couldn’t keep your eyes open.
Your head whipped to the side, your cheek stinging. “Wake up, we are not done yet” Ethan growls. His cock was painfully hard now, he needed to be inside you. Your eyes fluttered, Ethan grabbed your neck tightly he whimpered softly, fuck he wanted to do that all night. Ethan releases his hard cock with his free hand.
Your panic hits you like lighting you tried to squirm out of his grip but that only made Ethan more excited. He lines his cock up with your slit, Ethan rubs his cock up and down on your wetness. In one quick thrust, Ethan forces himself in you, he lets out a low moan, steadying himself, he felt like he was going to burst inside you. Ethan almost couldn’t contain himself and thrust hard a few times, this is the first time Ethan felt pussy this good, the only time, actually.
His hands choked you hard with each rock of his hips. “Fuck, you know how long I wanted to stick my cock deep Inside you?” Your head feels light, and you are barely able to register what he’s saying to you.
You reach up to tear his hands away, but you couldn’t find the strength. “Your pussy is fucking mine, only for me” Ethan pants as he drags his cock against your hot walls. “You’re so tight, I feel like I'm tearing you apart.” You could hear the smile in his voice, each word dripping with lust.
“I c-can’t-” you choke out before you feel yourself fading into unconsciousness. Ethan didn’t let go of your neck for a few seconds, watching you fall limp under him. Ethan pulled his mask off throwing it to the ground. Sweat beating down his face, his hair a wild mess. He stops his movement for a second hiking your knees to your chest so he can fuck deeper into your slick hole.
The only sounds that filled the room were Ethan’s desperate moans and groans and the wet sounds of him fucking sloppily into you. He kissed your lips roughly, moaning into your mouth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, all for me” Ethan chanted darkly. He moved his lips to your neck sucking and kissing the marks he left on you. He was so close; he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Ethan roughly grabbed your hips, making your back arch. He was gripping so tightly he definitely left marks. “Fuck baby, take my cum you little slut” Ethan pumped in you harshly one last time letting out a deep moan as he spilled inside you. Ethan slowly pulled out of you, watching your slit dip his cum.
Ethan kissed your lips softly, roaming his hands all over your soft limp body one more time. Finally, he sits up, tucking you under the covers. Ethan kisses your forehead and puts his mask back on before fleeing the room. You were out cold, breathing softly and completely unaware that your shy friend Ethan had attacked you and you never will know. 
3K notes · View notes
maxlarens · 11 days
Note
Hi, I have a smau request for Charles (based on c.ai bot lol, and the fact that I love painting), so the reader is invited by her friends to a house for vacation, her friends are all with their s/o and they also always try to set up reader with someone, that's when her and Charles meet, and reader finally gives it a chance because she knows her friends won't stop to set her up. They talk for a whole evening about what they do in life (reader is an artist/painter) and they get along really well. Eventually they get together and reader is very liked by the public, even if there will always be haters, but most fans thinks she's just very adorable (especially because of her insta/twitter posts)
CL — slip up and i call you baby
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pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader
summary: you love your friends, you really do. you just wish they’d stop trying so hard to set you up with random guys. [smau + written fic] (read on: ao3)
fc: faceless
word count: 5.1k
warnings: mild sexual references
a/n: this is such a cute idea! thank u so much for sending it in!! u will not believe how much this idea gripped me like i never write one shots like this its just unheard of for me if im honest. anyway i know u asked for a smau so i will be doing a second part/continuation to this that is solely an smau to make up for that. (ALSO sorry for disappearing i was super sick for the whole week and have been getting my shit back together in the aftermath😭)
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(yn’s messages)
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(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
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liked by @chloegarelli, @charlesleclerc and others
ynusername italy we are in u!!!
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Amalfi Coast, Italy
You’ve never been particularly boy crazy. At least not the same way your friends are.
There have been a few not-quite boyfriend’s over the years, but those relationships never last long. They never really get you, or they never really get the art thing. Which means, of course, that they don’t get you and never will— and that’s fine, you’re content with that. If living for your art means you’ll never be in love then so be it and frankly, good riddance to them.
For the most part, you’ve given up trying. You go on a few dates here and there, but you never let them stick around. Even the ones that seem interested in your paintings you don’t bother with— none of them really seem to be able to grasp what art truly is to you. It isn’t just paint on a canvas, it’s living, it’s breathing. You are only yourself with a way to make art.
It’s difficult to put into words.
So you don’t. Instead, you send texts that say ‘thanks for your time but this isn’t working out’ and you keep the men your friends try to set you up with at arm's length. You placate Chloe and her partner Rowan– who collects friends like they’re Pokémon– with, “he wasn’t my type” and “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”, which you suppose is true, but also isn’t the entirety of it. Yet, every time without fail, there’s a new boy at the scene of the crime.
Chloe doesn’t get it, none of your friends get it. You don’t try to explain it to them. So, y’know, here you are again.
Anyway, here’s the thing: they’re getting closer. Inexplicably, without knowing how you really feel about it all, Chloe and Rowan are getting better and better at picking the boys who are able to tempt you. Which is a pain really, because sometimes you’re trying to have a perfectly nice vacation in Italy without the lure of a boy you can’t let yourself have. But alas, these things generally don’t go your way.
You should know that by now.
Charles Leclerc is bang on the money, he really is. He is unbearably cute, like so cute that you have to leave the room when he walks in, because you don’t trust yourself to be in close proximity to him right now. You have a hard time looking at his face when you are forced to be around him. The dimples when he smiles, the squint of his eyes even when he isn’t. If you look too long you’re liable to stare and that wouldn’t lead to anything good at all.
He’s nice as well. So nice, just like Chloe told you. You try to pretend he doesn’t exist and he still asks you questions about your job and the area of Monaco you live in— like he’s even interested, like he’ll remember you two weeks from now. You try your best to be pleasant, to answer without it being like pulling teeth, and to ask questions of him as well. You’ll probably see him again after this, so best to not to go too far and act like you hate him. It’s difficult though, toeing the line between friendly and encouraging of more. Or it feels difficult for you. Charles doesn’t make even the slightest suggestion of the two of you being set up by your nosy friends. That’s unbearable too. Part of you wishes he’d just make a clumsy pass at you so you can rebuff it and make your intentions abundantly clear. But, obviously, he doesn’t, because he’s perfect or something.
It sucks. You hate him, you think.
Or you want to.
On the second day of the trip, you’re on the villa’s private beach, laying in the hot sun. Chloe, Anaïs and Bea are there; everyone else is either still sleeping off the wine from last night or swimming in the glittering ocean. You’ve got a secondhand book, a 2B pencil and a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. You’re trying to read but you just end up doodling, drawing your friends bikini-clad bodies over the text and shading grapes into the margins. Trying desperately not to accidentally put Charles Leclerc’s dimples, messy hair, or sloped nose to paper.
“So,” Chloe says conspiratorially, as you abort an attempt at drawing a slightly squinted eye with thick lashes, “What do you think of Charles?”
You raise an eyebrow carefully at her over your sunglasses, betraying nothing of your inner turmoil, “I think nothing.”
Anaïs laughs, rolling onto her back, “That’s such shit. You practically sprint away from him everytime he comes near.”
“I do not,” you answer too quickly.
Anaïs laughs again, louder. Chloe joins in and Bea raises her eyebrows at you like you’re a fucking liar. You frown, glaring a little before stubbornly turning your head back to your book. The conversation about Charles ends there, but unfortunately your actions have spoken for themselves. A chill of something like panic chitters up your spine and into your shoulders. You have to roll them to make the feeling go away.
As the sun climbs higher in the sky you lose some people to the heat and gain others. It’s just you and Chloe sweating onto your towels when Rowan and Charles finally give up on whatever game they were playing in the ocean. Rowan collapses unceremoniously into the space between you and Chloe, kicking up sand and getting water droplets all over you like he’s a wet dog. You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated groan as you roll away from him, landing in the sand.
“Watch it,” you cry, “You’re getting my book all wet.”
Rowan laughs, “You’re drawing in it!”
“So.”
He pulls a face at you that makes you roll your eyes; then he turns into Chloe, shoving his face into her collarbone and flinging limbs over her. You snort, leaning over to snag the book off your towel before it gets dragged into the mess that Rowan is causing. You’re about to get up and go inside until you realise Charles is still standing there. Has, in fact, been standing there since Rowan ran over. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you look up to find him standing there.
“Hey,” you smile briefly at him, quickly looking away from his damp hair and bare chest (–which is difficult to do because, holy shit–) so you can gather up your towel.
“Hi,” he replies.
He might smile back. You don’t look. You’re trying to get the image of his washboard abs out of your head. This proves difficult when you clamber to your feet and find yourself face to face with him.
“Are you heading back?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
God, you want to kick yourself. You’re being so awkward, and right in front of Chloe too, who may not be watching but is absolutely listening to you make a fool of yourself in front of a guy you have very firmly said that you are not interested in. It must be clear to him too, that you’re trying very deliberately to not be interested in him. You cant tell what would be worse; if that means he’ll think you’re a weirdo or if it means he’ll take it as a sign that he should make some kind of move.
Ugh.
“I’ll come with you?”
“Hmm,” you blink yourself back into existence, seeing the questioning look on Charles’ face, “Yes, yeah. Sorry.”
You say goodbye to Chloe and Rowan who barely look away from one another, still rolling around in the sand like teenagers.
“Gross,” you say to Charles, as the two of you trudge through hot sand toward the sandstone steps that lead up to the villa.
He laughs, a breathy thing that tapers off with a sigh, “A bit, yes.”
You don’t say anything else, but you find yourself staring at his back and the way his muscles shift and move underneath his tanned skin. At the top of the stairs you part ways, he smiles at you and you offer something awkward in return, trying to pretend you hadn’t been looking at him. You don’t think he notices, but your cheeks red burn anyway.
You don’t see him watching you leave.
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Amalfi Coast, Italy
Dinner is a huge affair, as it always is on these trips.
You, Anaïs and Chloe spend three hours in the kitchen that afternoon making chicken fricassée and about a hundred different side dishes to go with it. Everyone crowds around the dinner table to eat and drink even more wine than the night before. Piero Piccioni plays on the old record player, crackling away as you laugh and talk and tell stories with your friends well into the night. You watch the sun set through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and you wish wish wish that you had your paints right now.
You brought along a set of oil pastels and one of your art notebooks, but it doesn’t compare at all to painting. If you could get your hands on cadmium yellow in all it’s hues, maybe vermillion and a powder blue, your lack of paintbrush or canvas wouldn’t even matter. You’d use your fingers if you needed to. It bothers you so much that you get up in the middle of clearing away the meal and go to your room for the pastels and notebook. You need to get it on a page at least.
You push a few plates to the side, folding out your notebook and immediately marking the page up with a creamy white pastel. Bea teases you when she comes over to take the rest of the dirty dishes, but you just mumble something unintelligible, too engrossed with smudging the sunset into something that looks like what you’d seen out the window. When the oranges and yellows blend to your satisfaction you take the black and brown and draw in the top of your friends’ heads, not thinking about how much attention to detail you’re paying to the shape of Charles’ side profile.
When you’re finished, you’re surprised to see that the table is cleared save for a few half-full wine glasses and a fresh bottle. Only Chloe, Rowan and Charles are still sitting by you. You’re listening to another Piero Piccioni album now, or maybe just the other side of the record. You remember saying goodnight to the others and saying yes to a glass of wine, so you’ve not been totally dead to the world, but it’s all in a bit of a haze.
You think this might be part of the reason why you can’t hold down a boyfriend. The disappearing into your art like you cant breathe until it’s finished. That may as well be the case if you’re honest.
You sigh, wiping your stained fingers on the next blank page, then you take a long sip from your glass of merlot, pretending you dont notice the others’ eyes on you.
“All done?” Chloe quips, somewhere on the border of teasing and being annoyed at you.
You look at her, your eyes just narrowing enough for her to notice. She does and purses her lips. You raise an eyebrow to ask okay, what’s your fucking problem? And you see her eyes flash to Charles. You follow her gaze to see him and Rowan pretending to look disinterested in your answer. Charles is tracing the base of his wine glass and absently biting the inside of his mouth. You have to tear your eyes away.
“All done,” you answer, tone clipped, before gathering your things (including the wine glass) and leaving the room in a move you hope doesn’t come off as too rude.
At your back you hear Rowan ask Chloe, “What was that?”
Chloe means well, you think as you wind through the villa, making your way to the balcony overlooking the private beach. She wants you to be happy and she thinks you need a boyfriend to be happy. But she’d found the love of her life in Rowan after only a few years of dating around and she doesn’t quite understand that it’s never going to work like that for you. There aren’t enough people out there that understand the kind of passion you have for your art and certainly not many that would also be compatible with you. You’re fine with that, but Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. Especially not now she’s cottoned onto the fact that you have some kind of interest in Charles. It’s killing her.
It’s irrelevant though, whatever interest you have in Charles doesn’t factor into anything. He’s cute, he’s nice, but so were the dozen boys that you’ve already dated and not continued dating. So really, Chloe needs to stop pushing it because it’s pissing you off. You’re here for a holiday, not to be forced into conversations with a guy you don’t know. If she needs to have an argument to finally understand that, then so be it. You’ve been friends for years, it’ll blow over eventually.
You flick a switch and blinking lights illuminate the balcony. Fairy lights are wound up the posts and draped on the awning, intertwining with the lush green vines that have grown up through the wood slats. The air is balmy and the breeze light as you settle into one of two cushioned chairs situated by a coffee table. It’s perfect. You spread the oil pastels out next to your glass of wine and set your open notebook on your crossed legs, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore.
You’re alone for what feels like a long time but is probably only an hour or two.
When the sliding door clunks open you expect it to be Chloe coming over to have it out, but it’s not. Instead, Charles slips through the gap with the rest of the wine gripped in one hand.
“Hi,” he greets, smiling at you in a way that makes dimples carve in his cheeks, and dashing any hopes you have that he’d walk right past you.
“Hey,” you forget yourself for a moment and bite your lip on a broad smile.
He holds the bottle out toward you, offering more. You lean over your notebook and hold your empy wine glass up in acceptance.
“Merci,” you say, and in a moment of weakness (and probable wine drunk-ness) you gesture at the plush chair across from you.
Charles, somewhat caught off guard, looks between your outstretched hand, the chair, and your face, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly and finally taking a seat. Despite his apparent shock, you find it hard to believe he’d come out here simply to offer you some of the last of the wine. Surely, this is Chloe and Rowan’s doing. Though, strangely, you cant quite bring yourself to care.
He sets the bottle on the coffee table, next to your oil pastels. You lean forward to place a few back in their rightful spots, snagging your wine glass as you go.
Charles eyes’ scan your face for a moment, searching for something you suppose, then he points at your notebook, “Have you been drawing?”
You nod, “Mmm.”
You think perhaps the answer is a bit obvious. He seems to realise this, you watch a blush spread onto the top of his cheeks and he flutters his eyelids slightly, almost like rolling his eyes at himself. You don’t think about his eyelashes, thick and dark as they brush against his cheekbone, and you don’t think about his eyes, the lights reflecting off them, making them sparkle.
“What are you drawing then?” he asks after a moment of collecting himself, an edge of embarrassment to his voice.
You give in easily to the strange urge you have to show him, grabbing the notebook off your lap and holding it out for him to see what you’d been scribbling in the book for the past two hours. You let him take it off your hands, ignoring the spike of anxiety. He holds it gingerly, like it's a precious artefact (of course, to you, it is), which makes something warm bloom in your chest. You take a sip of wine and gesture for him to flip through a few pages, which he seems hesitant to do without permission. The book is angled in such a way that you can see most of the page, so you’re content to let him. Or at least you are until he flips to the page you’d started when you’d first come out here.
Panic drops like a stone in your gut because he’s looking right at a fully rendered drawing of his eyes. It’s in amongst some pillars strung with lights and covered in climbing vines; your best attempt at capturing the way the beach looked earlier in the day; and, perhaps your saving grace, Chloe half asleep on her towel. But the drawing of her is haphazard, it’s half-scribbled and half-finished, whereas the one of Charles eyes’ is as detailed as the sunset scene you’d done the page before. It had been something you just needed to get out, drawn in one of those hazes of yours. You’d felt better after it was done, your hands had stopped feeling like they were itchy.
Now, you itch to snatch the notebook off him, but you fear that would be even more incriminating. So you watch him look at the page and try to sit with the panicked feeling spreading in your chest.
Eventually, he points at the page, “Is this me?”
You bite your lip, breathing slowly through your nose to try and abate the blush spreading up your neck. You don’t say anything exactly, just shrug and rock your head back and forth in a kind of confirmation that doesn’t really admit anything. Though, there’s no denying the drawing is him.
“It’s good,” he says, seemingly stumbling over the words, “It’s very good.”
You frown into your drink, “Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
You know he means it. It’s not that.
“Yes,” you put down the wine glass, looking at him but avoiding eye contact, “I know. I know it’s good. I’m just… I’m embarrassed,” you admit.
He furrows his eyebrows– or it’s more that he squints and his eyebrows fold in with it. You watch his tongue dart out to run across the top of his bottom lip and you stamp down the less than innocent thoughts that come bubbling up at that. He waves the hand that’s not still holding carefully onto your notebook about for a moment, trying to conjure up words that he doesn’t have yet.
Slowly, he says, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I– It’s–”
He’s about to say flattering, so you cut him off, not wanting to hear the tone of it, whether it be pity or something else entirely.
You try to explain yourself, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Like after dinner,” you reach forward and flip the page back one, to the sunset, “I have to get it onto paper. Or… or… it just runs laps in my head for the rest of eternity, I guess. I don’t stop thinking about it.”
You cringe internally. You’ve just told him that you were so consumed by thoughts of his eyes that you had to draw them immediately. That is perhaps worse than just wanting to draw him because you thought he was cute. Charles raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by your admission, but there’s perhaps also something sincere in there? You can’t pinpoint it, but it makes you feel a fraction better you think.
You sigh forlornly, “That’s weirder, huh?”
He laughs, properly laughs, and it sends some strange feeling skittering down your spine, “No. No, I get it. I don’t have any way to get it down as quickly as I’d like, but I definitely understand the feeling.”
You bite the inside of your lip, hesitant but still curious, “You understand the feeling? Really?”
“Yes,” he smiles easily now, relaxing more in the chair after he places your notebook onto the counter with a cautiousness you still don’t expect, “For me, with racing, it’s like I get an idea and I can’t sleep until I try it on track or talk about it with someone. Some of them don’t work, or aren’t possible, which is fine, but if it sounds right to me and it checks out with the people that it needs to, then, well, then it literally does run laps in my head.”
You laugh, mostly to yourself. You’re not sure yet if he understands what you’re saying, but he’s trying. That’s more than you can say for a lot of people. You try not to let that thought linger for too long.
“You think it’s similar?” you ask in a way you desperately hope comes across as curious and not accusatory.
He hums, waving his hand around again for words, “Perhaps. I think the urgency is the same. The passion is the same. Do you ever feel like something terrible will happen if you can’t–”
“Yes,” you’re a bit breathless in your haste to agree, to talk about this feeling with someone who understands, “Yes. I do. It’s like I need to put it somewhere before I lose it. Otherwise, it won’t be perfect, or it’ll be too late.”
“Exactly,” his eyes seem to light up, for a long second you watch the flickering lights reflect in them, “Exactly.”
“It’s never as good as I want it to be,” you admit, finding it easier to look him in the eye now that some strange barrier between you has been broken, “It’s never quite how I imagine it in my head.”
Charles points at your notebook, “These are very good, really. I don’t see how they could be better. But,” he shrugs, “Eh, I will win a race and still think of everything I did wrong.”
You nod eagerly in understanding as you lean back into the chair, finally relaxing into the cushions. It’s strange to have this conversation, knowing you’re talking about two entirely different careers, but feeling like they’re so similar. Maybe it’s just you and Charles that are similar, maybe your jobs have nothing to do with it? You don’t know, you just know it’s nice to feel like someone gets what you’re talking about.
Charles continues, speaking like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get this off his chest, “It’s there all the time, do you know what I mean? Maybe I’m not thinking about it every second, but it’s always there waiting for something to draw attention to it. And people ask what else is going on in my life, and of course I do other things, and I enjoy other things, but I want to be on the track. I want to be driving whenever I can.”
You nod again, more subdued now, “Mmm, right. I want to be making art all the time, and when I can’t it’s like missing a limb. To me art is– it– it’s like–”
“–breathing,” he finishes, almost the lilt of a question to it, but not really, it’s like he knows exactly what you mean… how you feel.
You exhale, long and slow, “Yeah. Like breathing.”
Both of you are quiet for a little after that. You’re trying not to stare at him, but it’s not easy. He’s looking at you almost blatantly and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks the longer he stares. The air feels thick with some feeling you can’t place. All you know is there are butterflies in your stomach and a smile keeps pulling at the edge of your pursed lips.
The smile takes over as you catch him starry-eyed in your peripheral vision, you mutter, “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”
“Why?”
You tip your head back so you can’t see him looking at you, “Because.”
“Because?” he laughs breathily, shaking his head at you, “Okay, well, tell me if I’m misreading anything, but I’m pretty sure that drawing of me in your notebook says something, at least.”
You run a hand down your face, sighing loudly, “Yes, okay. I suppose it does. But– I–” for a moment you struggle for the right words to explain yourself, “I guess I’m not really looking to date anyone.”
He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows and looking for all intents and purposes, like a confused puppy, “You guess?”
You nod, resisting the urge to just launch over the table and grab his face. He is very cute and he is making this so hard for you.
He sucks his teeth briefly, shrugging, “I’m not really either.”
“Alright,” you say, “Good.”
As over as that should make the issue, strangely enough it doesn’t feel like you’re done with Charles Leclerc and it certainly doesn’t feel like he’s done with you either.
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Amalfi Coast, Italy
You try to avoid Charles after that, you really do, but he doesn’t quite let you.
For a few days of the holiday you give him pointed looks and purse your lips a lot when he’s around. Chloe catches on straight away and that makes it all infinitely worse until she finally realises she might need to leave you alone (yeah, shocker). When Chloe finally forces everyone to get off your back about Charles, it becomes much easier to be around him. You’re not glaring at your friends while they make eyes at you, or worrying if you’re acting weird; you’re just allowed to be.
It’s nice. He’s nice.
But you knew that already.
Neither of you are looking for a relationship so there’s no pressure for it to be anything at all. But you have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps both of you are looking for a relationship with eachother regardless. You try to ignore the thought.
On day five, you’re sitting together on an outcropping of rock that overlooks the ocean and you’re letting Charles doodle in your notebook with a ballpoint pen. The bare skin of both your arms are pressed together, they stick with sweat from the hot midday sun but neither of you seem to care. As you watch him doodle inexpertly you can smell him— salt and sweat and whatever cologne he uses masking the very faint scent of burning rubber. Your hair, still damp, brushes his forearm, you wonder if you smell of acrylic paint and mildew from all the water cups you accidentally leave out for your paintbrushes.
You reach out to trace a line he’d made, “Here, it should be more like…” you taper off, taking the pen from his hand and quickly fixing the curve of the beach before handing the utensil back.
“Hmm,” he hums, giggling a little, “I guess that looks better.”
“You guess?”
He nods, “What if I had a very specific vision?”
You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning back to look him in the eye you tease, “A vision. Did you?”
He tilts his head down to look at you. You’re very close now, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. In the reflection of his sunglasses you watch your lips part slightly and your eyelids flutter. Your chest grows tight with anticipation and maybe a little bit of panic. Still, you reach out and slide his sunglasses up to settle in his hair. You’re a little careless, but you like the way his hair pokes out from them at odd angles. As he breathes out you hear it catch for a split second.
“Did you?” you repeat, knowing he won’t remember what you were talking about.
He blinks twice, still staring at you, “Hmm?”
“You said you had a vision,” you breathe.
“Oh,” as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your mouth, only for a second, but it’s long enough to you know you’re done for.
You both lean in at the same time, your noses sliding off each other in your eagerness. You breathe a kind of laugh into his mouth and you feel him try to suppress a smile against your lips. It’s slow for the first few seconds, just you and Charles figuring out how your mouths fit together. His mouth is warm and wet and so soft, and it’s easy to lose yourself in it. You move the hand that had adjusted his sunglasses, sliding it up his shoulder to the back of his muscled neck. Your fingers weave into the short hair at the base of it, your nails scratching absently there. He groans, ever so slightly into your mouth and it sends heat skittering down your spine, into the low of your gut.
The hand of his that isn’t clutching onto your notebook slips forward and winds around to press at your bare back. He pulls you closer to him as you slide your hand up to cup the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Soon it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and Charles blindly shoving your notebook somewhere it wont slip into the water so he can grab you with both hands. He tastes like red wine and coffee and you love the way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his teeth have been grazing at your bottom lip, like he wants to sink into it.
You’re almost in his lap when you’re forced to pull away for air.
Foreheads pressed together, you breathe heavily into the space between you. Your hand is still stuck in his hair and one of his on the small of your back, the other holding your knee. The sides of your noses touch, you nudge yours against his affectionately, tempted by the proximity of his mouth.
He laughs and you feel it against your lips, intermingling with your own breath, “Alright. That was–”
“Yeah,” you finish, dipping forward to kiss him again.
You’re lost for another few minutes. Tongue and teeth and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock behind you. And his hand on your jaw and in your hair and pulling you closer closer to him.
He pulls away this time, turning his head to press your cheeks together, mouth at your ear, “So,” he drags the word out with a laugh, “are you looking for a relationship now?”
You snort unceremoniously, and tease, “Hmm. I guess I would be amenable to that.”
“You guess?” he asks— but not really needing to at all because you can feel his dimples pressing into your cheek as he smiles knowingly.
You nod, smiling too, “I guess.”
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🎨 yes of course i made a playlist>> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cAJaZjvK0V7SrmxoMosBX?si=ADlJGHxxQYKnlZ1jWFJxfw&pi=a-AI0MKbo3RTqE
taglist: (pls message if you'd like to be added to the taglist for charles. my yuck! one is full so need to start a new one😭)
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controld3vil · 2 months
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atreides and bene gesserit
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pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.
notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?
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When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.
The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.
You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"
"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"
"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.
"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.
"Mmhmm! So all of them?"
"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."
"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"
"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."
"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"
"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.
"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.
Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"
"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"
"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'
"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"
"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"
"You're living your dream right now!"
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In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.
Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.
"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.
"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.
You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.
Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.
"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.
"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."
It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"
Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"
"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."
"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"
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"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"
You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"
Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"
The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"
Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"
Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.
Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.
You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.
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You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.
Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.
"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"
"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.
Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.
But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."
"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.
"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"
Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.
"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"
"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.
"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"
"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."
"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"
"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.
The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.
"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"
"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"
"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"
"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"
Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."
"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.
"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.
Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.
"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.
"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.
Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"
"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.
"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.
You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"
"Really?!"
"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."
"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."
"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.
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By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.
A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.
Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.
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