#and yeah there are so many interesting ways they could have gone
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Burn It To The Ground
Tommy Kinard knew the first time he kissed Evan Buckley that he was burning his whole life to the ground. He knew it the way he’d listened to Evan tell him about how it was him, Tommy, he was interested in spending more time with, and the way his thoughts raced towards the idea that this kid who seemed to be extremely bothered by his presence…well maybe he was. Just not in the way Tommy originally thought. Still, there were so many risks. Evan could’ve shoved him, punched him, told him to get the fuck out and never so much as batted an eyelash at the idea of wanting to be near Tommy ever again.
But in that moment, as he watched Evan’s eyes shift around the room, looking anywhere but at him, everything inside him told him to take the shot, because god damn if this kid feels the same way I think I might, it might just completely ruin my life. And then before he could second guess himself, his thumb was on Evan’s chin, his fingers curled just underneath it and his lips were on Evan’s, and even though it was barely more than five seconds, a whole lifetime happened in that kiss.
He’d kissed plenty of men in the time since he’d come out. Hell, he’d even fallen in love with a few of them. But never, not one of them, had managed to make him feel the way that Evan Buckley did when he leaned in on that first night. He’d never felt something so honest and real and at home, as the moment Evan’s hand laid down on his chest as their lips met. In that moment, Tommy knew that Evan could’ve pushed him away, but instead, he left his hand there, and for as much as Evan’s hand on him felt like home, his hand was also like fire on him, burning through the layer of his cotton t-shirt, sealing something between them that Tommy wouldn’t be able to place for weeks.
And then he was leaning back—not enough to break them apart, but enough to step back into his own space. And Evan was moving with him, and he could feel the ghost of Evan’s right hand as it brushed down the side of Tommy’s shoulder, coming to rest on his bicep, even just for a few seconds. He didn’t know how to describe it all; all the different feelings and emotions that hit in those tiny seconds that could’ve lasted lifetimes.
But there’s something there, in that moment Tommy finally pulls away from Evan that he never mentions. It’s this nanosecond of a heartbeat in the infinity that takes place between their lips parting and the breath that escapes him before he manages to open his eyes back up. The realization that, even though he’s the one that made the first move, that he’s the one who will be labeled as the pursuer in weeks and months to come, this moment brought his whole life crashing down in those six seconds. Because when his eyes open back up, everything has changed. Evan is staring at him like he’s completely lost the plot, and maybe the earth moved for him too, and maybe setting his entire life on fire wasn’t completely for nothing.
“Like that?”
The words leave his mouth, and he can’t help looking back down at Evan’s lips, even for the briefest second before he’s looking him in the eyes to ensure that he didn’t just royally fuck their entire lives up on a whim, because he doesn’t know how he knows it, but Evan is…something so unquantifiable he doesn’t even have a word for it yet. Something he’s never had.
“Yeah, that works.”
He can’t help the smile that crosses his face in Evan’s response, even as he tries to reign in the way his heart is pounding in his chest because holy shit did that just actually happen? But he has to know, needs to ensure that he hasn’t gone completely insane, even though now he can’t stop looking at Evan’s mouth and thinking about what it would be like to have his there again.
“So that was okay?”
Evan nods, and it seems like wherever he disappeared to in those nanoseconds in which the world turned upside down, he’s starting to come back from. “It was better than fake mouth static.”
He chuckles, knows that somehow, some way, that fake mouth static is here to stay, and it’s something he’s going to have to be okay with never living down. But reality is setting back in, and even though it’s the last thing he wants to do, he has to go.
“I got a shift,” he says softly, noncommital. He thinks if he gives anything more than monotone that it might actually crack him in two.
It almost guts him, the way that Evan looks at him as though he’s disappointed in that moment.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, crosstown traffic. Came in a car this time.” His eyes fall from Evan’s to his mouth, his chest, and then back up as he makes futile efforts to convince himself that he can function now in a world where Evan Buckley has changed everything he used to know, just five minutes ago, burned it all to ash. That he can figure out how to operate in a world where this man he only just met has managed in just a matter of days, but also really, just a matter of seconds, to completely turn the world on its head. “So what’re you doing Saturday?”
“Uh, S-Saturday?” The way he stammers reminds Tommy that he’s not alone in the way the world just moved while their mouths were on each other.
“You still owe me that beer,” he says, still monotone, still gentle as he nods. “You free?”
“Yes,” Evan replies, and there’s this smile on his face that Tommy’s pretty sure he’s never going to be able to get out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. “I-I…I am free.”
“Great.” And then he has to put space between them, force himself to find his way towards the door, and it almost kills him because the last thing he wants to do is leave. He wants to live here in this moment forever, bury himself inside Evan Buckley and all he has to offer; just live the rest of their lives inside of this little infinity between them. But he can’t. “So let’s say I come by around, I don’t know, eight?”
Evan nods at him from across the room, that silly smile still on his face. “Yeah. Eight is great.”
“Great,” he says, shaking a finger at Evan. There are so many other things he wants to say, but he’s left with those five letters to convey them all has he turns towards the door. “See you Saturday.”
“Saturday.”
And as he reaches the door, turns the handle, he makes a comment about Evan calling Eddie to smooth things over, just to lighten the mood a little bit, maybe not leave both of them stuck down the hole he’s just buried his whole being in. As he pulls the door shut behind him, he can’t help but think. Maybe burning his whole life to the ground wasn’t the worst thing after all.
#bucktommy#kinley#tevan#bucktommy fic#mini fic#ficlet#fluff#tommy kinard analysis#bucktommy kiss analysis
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As much as I dislike the route they went in tros I do think I wouldn’t have disliked it as much if.
1. They kept Rey as a nobody. Having Palpatine lie and having her not taking the Skywalker name
2. Had Rose be in the group instead of Chewie or the worm thingy at the beginning of the movie (let the new cast have more screen time)
3. Have Ben be with Rey during the final fight instead of being blasted into a hole, and if he had to die (which I won’t get into) have the epilogue be Rey searching for a way to resurrect him instead of burying lightsabers…Finish what Anakin started with triumphing over death.
Completely agree with all of this!
Rey should have been a nobody, and they shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of her being a Palpatine. I would have loved for her at the end of her journey to come to the conclusion that just Rey is enough. I think that would have been so powerful.
Yes yes yes!! Rose should not have stayed back at the base for the entire movie doing... I don’t even know what she doing? Klaud was such a pointless character??? Like... why would they take him on a mission instead of Rose? She should have 100% been involved with the main crew. And yes to letting the new ST characters have more screen time!
Rey and Ben defeating the villain together is what should have happened. It doesn’t make sense for Rey to be able to do it on her own. They told us their dyad is a power like life itself. They are two that are one. They need to be together for great things to happen.
Ben should not have died. That is the main thing that breaks the story. (Also Kylo Ren symbolically died and Ben was reborn... but that’s another story.) Unless, as you said, they were planning to bring him back. Have the ending be Rey hearing Ben call out to her from the WBW or something along those lines. They could have made it feel like an ending of this chapter, but left the door open for the next chapter. Leaving us feeling hopeful.
Finish what Anakin started with triumphing over death.
THIS!!! I love that.
#ask#anonymous#tros#anti tros#thanks for the ask!!#there were so many small changes that would have made the movie 100 times better#I have so many thoughts#I haven't even thought about for years haha#like palpatine being the villain could have worked so well#if they'd focussed on him trying to get to ben but failing#so instead he targets his dyad rey#and she almost turns to the dark side#and yeah there are so many interesting ways they could have gone#also of course there should have been a stormtrooper rebellion#I'm ranting now haha#mytxt
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ball dur's gait 3 is ruining my life
#mine#I THINK I LOCKED MYSELF OUT OF AST4RI0N ROMANCE BY ACCIDENT#AND THE WORST PART IS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW!!!!!!!#LIKE. WHAT SCENE DID I FUCK UP IN. WHICH DIALOGUE DID I MISS. WHERE DID I GO WRONG#i just got to act 3 and i had the option to ask him why him and my char haven't [ahem] in a while and i decided to click on it#and he finished the conversation by being like 'yeah theres never going to be anything between us'#i insta-reloaded to my save right before the convo because i refuse to accept that as being canon#even though i know the structure of this game well enough to know the fact that i have the option to have that convo#is like a 99% guarantee that i cant romance him#but fuck me man i wanna be a little delusional and keep believing#but if it's really over...............then 1. i'm very upset especially because this is my self insert#(although that is oddly fitting in its own way)#2. i still care him so much and in my heart i want to believe maybe after the events of the game something happens between them#3. im going to kill myself#and 4. on the upside i guess this does offer some interesting story/rp aspects i could play with in my silly mind#but fuuuuuuck me man i was counting on being able to do it i really thought i could get this to work...................#fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck man#so many things have gone wrong in this run it's almost kinda funny#i guess this also adds another playthrough to my planned list cause even though i watched the supercut and i know his romance already#i still kind of want to experience it for myself...even if it's not with my insert :(#but then again my tavs and durges will always be a little bit of an insert cause i'm going to project on them and they'll always#have something in common with me#i can try again in the future...#my 2nd run is going to be durgestarion with durge resisting the urges which i think will be really fun#but i guess im gonna need to use a guide LMAO#fuuuuuuuuuuck dude even though i reloaded to make the convo uncanon i feel like me and my little tav guy are sharing a deeply painful momen#ok this is too many tags WHATEVER i have a call in 30 minutes and then i'm playing the game for the rest of the day#even if he doesn't want me i will still care him......#oh i guess that's the other upside is i can see nonromantic dialogue i might not have seen otherwise#i'll probably see friend dialogue in future playthroughs when i romance other characters but who knows
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for posterity/eventual explanation for my own stories more than anything else, i'll probably post my various cage interpretations here eventually, i've got like. a few pages written about them now lmao i have at least five going on that all serve different purposes, a lot of my oneshots rely on one interpretation but nyfic has a completely different approach and i really like exploring the implications of each one, what it would mean for post-s5 sam and how he adjusts to the world
#avery.txt#averywriting#yeah i have 5 as of right now and i'll probably have at least two more? maybe even more? just bc i really like what they can do#bc there are so many ways that could have gone!! how the cage operates has such a huge impact on the show but esp sam#and i'm just really interested in exploring that in my fics!!!! and i will continue to do so >:)
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THE TERRIBLE EGOIST — i.y
⛤ isagi yoichi x fem! reader
The popular football player rejected you and didn’t expect you to get over him so easily. If you liked him before he can get you to like him again.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie(s). oral (f. receiving). jerk isagi. dub-con. rough sex. pet names (baby, pretty, princess). finger sucking. marking. overstimulation. multiple orgasms + mention of multiple rounds. pussy drunk isagi. college au. intoxication. mentions of alcohol. +18!
wc: 2.9k
Isagi yoichi was the biggest egoist of them all. His popularity of being the best football player on the team at a university he attends and of course his good looks that kept his reputation up and the girls in line. He couldn’t simply ruin that with having girlfriend or anything that had to do with dating. He had only one thing to be stressed about and that was football. Though it sure wasn’t a problem if he just had his fun.
He was use to it, rejecting girls because he wants to focus on his upcoming games and he had no time for relationships. That didn’t stop them from at least trying again once or twice, maybe more than that. No one could get over him, that’d be impossible in his egotistic mind. Even people are to be warned not to be messed with him because he would easily tell you he doesn’t do that kind of “stuff” after just him making out with you 30 seconds ago.
He’s not mean about it though, he wouldn’t tell you to straight up thats he’s just not interested in you instead he says it sincerely even though he knows what he’s doing and how to do it, letting them down easy he knows they always come back anyways. Isagi loathes in the feeling of being adored, if he could get it from his fans he can get it from somewhere else and a different audience. How else could he keep himself entertained with the ladies?
“I really do like you Isagi” Then there was a long pause when you waited for him to answer, he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground before he could give you the bad news.
“‘M sorry I don’t really do relationships, I just want to focus on my career and I don’t want ‘dating’ to get in the way of that..we can always be friends though?”
You were confused, you don’t get it? He was flirting and teasing you for weeks. You were hanging out a lot, people would’ve been convinced you both were dating. You never kissed or held hands but surely it had to be obvious. Your friends convinced you that he liked you back, no guy would act that way towards a girl he doesn’t like or wouldn’t want to take things further with? Was he just leading you on?
“Uh..yeah i understand...” you really didn’t, you wanted to ask him why but he would probably repeat what he just said.
Isagi sighs like he has not gone through many let downs and watch the disappointment of his victim. “No hard feelings?”
“Yeah..none”
Then it’s been a week since he hasn’t seen you. Usually they come back in a day or two in his book so why haven’t you? It shouldn’t stress him out about it, it’s just longer than he expected it to be. His stupid ego got the best of him and his way of thinking that he could have every girl begging on their knees for him.
Jealousy bites him in the back when he’s sees you talking to other guys especially the ones on his team, he shouldn’t be jealous? He doesn’t even like you, he’s the one who rejected you so why does it eat at him? He wasn’t focused on anyone but you not paying him no mind, he’ll walk by you expecting to connect eye contact but you’ll be chatting up with your friends like he doesn’t exist. Maybe he could try to get you to like him again to fill his ego, yeah that’s probably it. You guys never made out or had sex, that was maybe the problem and he just had to do that.
You slowly became irritated when he kept trying to talk to you though they were just failed conversations. You didn’t know why he was trying to talk to you and you were trying to avoid him, how else could you move on from him?
He invites you to a party for tonight as a start of a friendship he wanted to build with you hoping you weren’t still upset with him, your friends really wanted to go since his teammates would be there and you agreed taking a chance with Isagi. You had a gut feeling but you didn’t know whether it was good or bad, you just knew something was to come as he grins to himself when you said yes. A scheme he has planned behind his soft smile.
Isagi being an athlete, he wasn’t a drinker though he offered you one, another one, also two more. Honestly you stopped counting after the second. Perhaps it was the alcohol but you started to feel glad that you and Isagi come to an agreement to be friends. Maybe you were too harsh, maybe he genuinely wanted to be friends as you were trying to ignore him this whole time.
The way your hands started to feel clammy because he kept staring at you, you felt as if his gaze your burning into your skin, you felt nervous, rubbing your hands on your dress. Why are you feeling nervous? You don’t like him, well you used to. You tried to push the thoughts away that he is cute, no he was and isn’t still you don’t really like him? You wonder if it was just your drunken mind playing tricks on you or the feelings were coming back again and he can read you good.
“Don’t do that..” he tilts his head at you as if he were oblivious however he knows all too well. “Don’t do what?”
“You’re looking at me like...” you didn’t want to assume or flat out say it, you shrug because you didn’t know what to add on or decide not to jump to conclusions, Isagi laughs to himself.
He’s a good guy with no rude intentions, yet he’s leading you by the hand upstairs in a unoccupied room.
“Why are we in here?” You sat on the edge of the bed watching him shut the door behind him “it’s quieter for us” he sat right next to you, he didn’t leave space between you both he was so close his figure was towering over you and you can feel his body warmth emit on your arm. You don’t know why you didn’t ask him another question about you both here alone when the party is clearly downstairs.
His hand is rubbing your inner thigh, his fingers are carefully slipping up your dress and his lips softly brushes against yours so it wasn’t fully a kiss, you didn’t know if you should so you mutter “I thought we were friends now Isagi”
“We are..unless you like me now..?”
“I-i don’t know…” you rubbed your knees together
“We’ll see” he kisses you roughly, honestly he’s trying to at least bruise your lips. You try to take in as much breaths but he doesn’t allow you to, his tongue blocking your airway in your mouth and your breathing heavily through your nose.
As he’s basically consuming you, his hand that was placed in your inner thigh moved towards to your covered pussy. Your hands grasp his arm to stop his fingers massaging your folds through your underwear. When his lips began attacking your neck you whine out his name when you start to feel the heat increase throughout your body, you felt you were gonna melt.
You smelt good as he placed wet kisses on your neck, sucking lightly on your skin leaving colored hues and moved onto another blank space of your skin he could mark. Isagi never thought it’d be easy to get you here, he might’ve thought wrong that you’d be difficult to get you where he needed you to be and he’s only kissing your neck and playing with your pussy behind your panties.
He presses lightly on it and you let out a shattered breath “Right here?” And he starts to rub your clit in circular motion. If you were sober without an drop of alcohol you probably wouldn’t let Isagi have his way with you, but you’re moaning under your breath, your jutting your hips against his hand, your eyes fluttered when he reaches under you rubbing the outside of your cunt.
Your mind getting slightly fuzzy you decided to fall onto your back on the soft bed when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. “Come on baby you can’t give up on me now” he takes off your shoes before he climbed onto the bed to spread your legs open.
“I can’t” you shake your head though you’re not kicking back to stop, you let him feel up your sides because his touch is warm and made you feel good, it had to be the alcohol lingering in your system or your feelings for Isagi are starting to come back even though you were helping yourself get over him before you came to this party “I just want you to like me princess” sounding sincere when he places a quick kiss on your lips, he lifts up your dress over your stomach to pull your panties down your hips and off your legs.
He’s caressing your thighs, riling you up and pampering kisses between your inner legs his face drawing dangerously close to your bare pussy. His hands push your thighs nearly to your stomach, giving you a peck on your cunt and the warm wet muscle ghost over your cunt making your breathing harder than it should be.
It was like he was making out with your pussy, his lips and tongue burying deep in your pussylips, his arms were locked around your thighs so you couldn’t pull away, you could only move your lower legs and you writhed on the bed in bliss and constantly moaned his name. “Ah! Isagi!..hah!” You could be as loud as you wanted because the music was loud enough to hide your pathetic whines.
Your hands grip the sheets underneath you until his tongue flicked your clit, sucking on it slow your hand reaches for his dark hair, your fingers tangling through his locks at the top of his head. “Oh-my g-ah!…” you sputtered, he’s still eating you out like a hungry man.
He’s lost into licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, your fingers tugging on his hair and moaning his name is making his dick hard, he’s growing amusement of his licks that are long and slow, dragging up on your clit and his lips wrap around it. Your hips are moving up and down, grinding on his face. If he could have you sit on his face he would but he needed you to cum, cum on his lips.
You started to become more squirmy when you feel your cunt twitch and your clit burning to cum when he sucks harder. Your hand through his hair tightening and your moans were becoming high pitched.
You rolled your head back moaning his name when you feel yourself cum on his mouth, his lips wouldn’t detach from your fluttering pussy and continued to use his mouth until he was ready to be done. After a bit though he didn’t want to work you up on another orgasm so he halted himself from eating you further more.
“You taste so good princess y’know that?” He comes up on top of you and to offer you a sloppy kiss whilst he’s unbuttoning his pants to pull out his hardened cock. You brought your hands behind his neck to keep kissing you more, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. you were already defeated when you first came into this room and you let him feel you up, you wanted to beat yourself up for it but you’re too dazed out of your mind to care, kissing Isagi now when you never got to before, you just wanted him in the moment.
Isagi gave himself a couple strokes, he opens your legs for more entry and with no warning your tight walls are being pushed aside by his cock when he slowly sheaved himself in, you gasp loudly by the disturbance of his dick intruding your pussy. Your breathing was shaky and Isagi hisses when you grip him tight and didn’t bother giving you a chance to process his dick inside you when he starts his hungry thrusts.
“Isagi-”
“Sorry princess..i gotta fuck you now” he was so harsh and fast, he was bullying you. The egoists cock was rubbing so relentlessly in your pussy, you’re moaning so much and each time he makes sure he slams his cock deep. He squeezes your tits and he wasn’t soft with them either, he was kneading them in his hand like hard dough.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you and here I thought you didn’t like me anymore..do you like me now? I know you do” you didn’t have to say yes, he already answered for you, you were too overwhelmed to speak though you could whine with your fingers slightly over your mouth so you could breathe.
He moves your hand out of your face as his thumb slips between your lips into your mouth, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your tongue. “That’s it baby suck on it” your lips wrap around his thumb just like how he had demanded.
You hummed with his thumb in your mouth, batting your pretty eyelashes at him and he grits his teeth with his stamina rising even more from the way you look at him, like you were purposely doing it to get him to fuck you even harder like as he was pounding into you anyways. He couldn’t let you get to him, it had to be the other way around.
“Looking at me like that pretty?-ah!” His cock jerked inside, knowing he was about to release his cum the more he constantly pushed his dick in and out of you. His jaw hung open, panting and moaning when he feels his nerves on fire. As you were about to touch yourself he rubbed your clit with his wet thumb that was settling in your mouth so you both can cum together.
“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum Isagi!” Isagi is so rough with you, him adding onto more to build your orgasm intensively circling your sweet bud.
Shock takes over his face when your legs wrap around his waist and you pleaded him “please cum inside me! Please Isa-!” Did you just beg him to? He was going to anyway though he didn’t expect you to practically be desperate for it that your legs are secured around his waist. Fuck, why did his heart just sink?
“Y-yeah, I’ll cum right in you, just for you princess” he growled, his last thrust he sunk deep into your spasming walls and his pushed down on your clit. Your eyelids twitched feeling his cum empties in your womb, your body quivered, it felt like stars were floating everywhere around you. “‘ts feels good..f-feels ‘s good” you whined.
Isagi bit his bottom lip gazing at your pretty tired face, This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he couldn’t keep up his ego anymore. He grew hard again and the only thoughts running through his head was wanting to fuck you again.
How long has it been? Two, four rounds, more? Both your bodies would completely stripped off of clothes, sweat mixing together that his hair was slightly damp. The music still booming loud as ever outside meaning people were still here which you both had completely forgotten since you were both gone into drowning in pleasure. Isagi is still in between your legs, pounding into your swollen pussy that had a brimful of his cum because he came so many times like he was still a starving caveman needing more.
Isagi is so deep into your pussy he forgot what was his motive the whole time, you’re mewling for him to stop but damn you look so pretty, why did he reject you again? He couldn’t even remember anything before he got into this room with you because of the delight of your hot cunt had him hooked. His arms beside your head as he watched you cry from the sensitivity of your previous orgasms he drew out of you. His heart fluttering in his chest when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper his name.
You both couldn’t think correctly but just thinking about how much it feels like heaven and the need to cum again.
“‘m about to cum again Isagi!” You repeated again before, He nodded while he was also cum again and damn he was so out of energy of pulling orgasm after orgasm, his breaths were shattered, his thrusts were sloppy. His tongue hanging from his mouth like he had fight to finish. “‘m cumming too-fuck!” Another addictive feeling washing over you both at the same time, once again he gives you another bundle of his cum.
Isagi finally caught his breath and noticed your leg’s couldn’t stop trembling. “F-fuck Isagi, I’m shaking…” you murmured. His stomach was in knots and not because he had just came but he was going against his own rules he made up the beginning. His evil scheme had failed when he came down to kiss you again but it was softer, didn’t bother pulling out, he rose back up with straight up determination in his eyes.
“Be my girlfriend..”
#blue lock smut#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#isagi yoichi#isagi smut#isagi x reader#bllk isagi#bllk x reader#bllk smut#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi x y/n#isagi x you
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Okay so, one of my problems with creator boundaries as an event runner is that it's impossible to keep up with them all, because they're being updated, and because so much of the time you learn them when they're reported to you, you weren't in stream yourself. So it's a game of telephone, and there's a constant issue that the message gets garbled in translation.
So the stance that I've taken as an event runner is that I will not be enforcing boundaries, and everyone can decide for themselves what relationships they're comfortable with. This seemed like the best stance for me to deal with the beeduo /p /r wars, and then I have continued to see many other smaller or larger instances where I've gone "yeah, enforcing creators boundaries as an event mod is a nonstarter, I'm sticking with that".
And I've been mostly concerned about issues like— I am not an avid watcher of Gem streams! I might miss things that happen in Gem streams, I don't know what the creator's exact boundaries are for what's okay to do in her vision. But meanwhile I've been over here in Phil streams, and I've assumed that I have known Phil's boundaries, because they get repeated SO MUCH. Everybody knows— no nsfw, and then we argue about if the only shipping allowed is with Mumza (the dsmp stance) or if his continued gay flirting with men on QSMP means he's okay with shipping with them (he kissed a man on camera on QSMP, for example). That is the received wisdom about Phil's boundaries, we all know where we stand and how we're interpreting things.
And I have been like okay, Phil doesn't want to see NSFW, I don't think he's reading my Ao3 history, maybe I will read the occasional pissa fic for fun. There are some good fics in the tag, you know. I will just keep it out of his sight, and the streamer doesn't have to know, right?
Cut to today, where I'm being kicked out of a discord server for bookmarking one (1) Phil NSFW fic. They sent me a clip to prove that NSFW was against the rules and why I was getting kicked. So I watched the clip in the interest of completeness.
flickr
And guys, when I tell you my jaw fucking dropped, because I do NOT agree that anyone should have asked the streamer this, but someone got him to talk about NSFW fan work, "weirdchamp shit", and he explicitly with his mouth says that he "could not give a shit" and "everybody lets out their creativity in different ways", and "ultimately it isn't hurting anybody", and as long as he doesn't see it, he's fine with it. As long as it's kept out of his stream he's fine.
So uh, guys? I know it's not like we haven't been cautiously creeping this way ourselves, just keeping it out of the streamer's sight, but explicitly, word of god from the streamer, I think Phil NSFW has been legal this whole time.
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NOT MY FIRST RODEO — COOPER HOWARD/THE GHOUL
masterlist
part two | part three [coming soon]
pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, mentions of john hancock x reader hehe
description: the tension between you and cooper had been palpable for ages, and he was beginning to struggle to deny his attachment to you — despite his reluctance. he’s certain you’d never really be interested in him like that, until he finds out he’s not the first ghoul to enjoy your company.
warnings: swearing, jealous!coop, sexual references/implied smut, angst, making out, mentions of drug taking
author’s note: writers block was POOF! gone the minute i rewatched fallout last week & restarted fallout 4. hancock will always be my bf so i couldn’t help myself from mentioning him. let me know if u want a part two with actual smut! i only left it out because i don’t really usually write smut on this blog haha.
—
Cooper Howard and John Hancock were by no means what you’d call friends.
However, as much as it pained him to admit it, the former knew that the latter was — by the standards of many — a good man who’d do the right thing to help others when needed.
That was why, however begrudgingly, he’d suggested that you spend the last few hours of today’s daylight making the short trip to Goodneighbor to stay ‘for a while’.
It was clear that an intense few days, hunting a difficult son of a bitch of a bounty, had very much tested your limits.
He told himself that, given the amount of caps that said son of a bitch had earned you, you could afford a couple of days laying low in Goodneighbor before picking up another job.
Well there was that and the fact that much to his dismay, in the short time you’d been accompanying him on the road he’d found himself irritatingly attached to you.
When he’d first stumbled upon you while collecting a bounty you’d failed to deliver on yourself, you’d enthusiastically offered your companionship and he’d fervently denied it.
You knew he doubted you’d be any use based on your circumstances when you met, but despite your reassurances that it was just because he was the notorious fucking ghoul that everyone went on about and he had simply beaten you to it, he dismissed you with a “not a chance, sweetheart,” and went on his way.
But when he kept bumping into you in the following days, he’d given in and afforded you the luxury of helping him out on this one job — allowing himself the comfort of the excuse that if he really needed, he could trade you for caps and say goodbye to the pretty girl so oddly desperate to be at his side.
You’d driven him crazy at first — full of questions and curiosity, never refraining from voicing what was on your mind.
The way you watched him so carefully, all doe-eyed and attentive, had initially just pissed him off. But in the weeks that followed this had mellowed, and he’d found himself almost grateful to have someone so comfortable around him.
He’d never admit that though.
You’d just been much more skilled in combat than he had expected. That’s why he told himself he kept you around.
He totally just figured that it couldn’t hurt to have someone close by who can handle themselves and is willing to take just a tiny stake of a bounty (on your part, you figured there was no need to take more — he basically spent his share with you anyway).
You, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that you had been lonely and desperate and missing the life you’d previously been so comfortable in when Cooper walked — well, stormed, into your life.
He might not ever have intended to (in fact — if he’d known, he’d probably never have let you get so close) but upon gradually letting you into his life he’d nestled his way into the empty little nook left behind in your heart.
“Why did you hesitate when I said Goodneighbor?”
Oh yeah, there was that.
When you’d left Goodneighbor all those months ago, you’d left with a broken heart and a head full of hazy memories of the happiness that the place had once brought you.
“I didn’t hesitate.”
“You sure as shit did, and even you know you’re a damn bad liar,” the Ghoul scoffed, pausing his pacing and turning to look you in the eye, “What does a pretty little thing like you know about Goodneighbor?”
You folded your arms over your chest, shaking your head at him as his steely eyes bore into yours, “Nothing. Just odd you’re suddenly so eager to go hide away somewhere when you’ve called me all sorts’a names any time I’ve asked for even a short rest break.”
“You’re full’a shit,” his hand flew instinctively to the shotgun at his hip before he released a deep sigh and relaxed it, “So I’m gonna ask you one more time. What do you know about Goodneighbor?”
You pondered for a moment whether or not to keep lying to him — he didn’t know much of your full past beyond the fact that you’d been a vault dweller a long time ago and been fighting for a living since.
You’d settled briefly in a number of places, though, and he’d heard too many stories about times you’d left settlements for various reasons to believe that you’d be too scared to return anywhere with him at your side.
Especially not somewhere like Goodneighbor.
“I—was living there for a while,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze again now, “Didn’t like it.”
The Ghoul laughed humourlessly at that, “C’mon sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“I didn’t feel—look there’s just someone I don’t really want to see round there, okay?” your eyes didn’t leave the floor as he took a step closer to you, heavy breaths almost taunting further information from you.
“And who might that be?”
You looked up at him for just a second before eyeing the dust below your feet again, “I was, well, I lived there quite a while. I was—seeing, well, romantically— uh, there was—,”
“Spit it out, sunshine.”
Sunshine.
You’d not been called that since the day you left Goodneighbor the last time, and you cursed yourself for physically recoiling at the sound of it.
“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You got a thing for ghouls, huh?” the wicked grin on his face set your stomach alight with a combination of emotions, “Didn’t peg a pretty little thing like you as the type. That why you spent so long beggin’ me to take you with me? Little vaultie princess desperate for another ghoul to defile her?”
You were crimson red now.
You didn’t know how to react, startled by the fact that he knew who you meant based upon your reaction to the term.
Hancock had always been charismatic and flirtatious though — it was no wonder Cooper had heard him use the phrase before.
You were almost angry, immensely embarrassed and yet, at the same time, a little aroused by even his insinuation that he knew that you wanted him in that way.
You’d found him attractive almost immediately and yeah, maybe he was right and you did seem to have a thing for ghouls.
But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him stand there and make you feel embarrassed right now.
“That’s not it, it’s not some kind of—like—,”
“Hancock got bored of ya and you latched onto the next irradiated motherfucker you came across?” he spat, “Bet you regret it now you know that I sure as shit ain’t nothin’ like your precious old mayor.”
Somewhere in the harshness of his tone you were sure you could detect a hint of jealousy at the root of his mocking.
You sighed defeatedly, “I wasn’t looking for some kind of fucking replacement when I met you, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just— you just— well— Whatever, it’s hardly like you’ve made any suggestion you’d want me if I made a move on you anyway.”
His eyes seemed impossibly dark now, narrowed on you as his finger reached up to tilt your chin upwards towards him, “Is that right, sweetheart?”
Your legs were like jelly beneath you, a jolt of lightning in your veins at his touch.
“Sure, you flirt with me, but you’re so damn up ‘n’ down sometimes that I don’t know if it means anything,” you shrugged, skin tingling as his fingers lingered beneath your chin, “If I was lookin’ to replace John, it would’ve taken more than you being a ghoul for that.”
If he still had eyebrows, they’d have been raised now, his eyes rolling, “Right, nobody comes close to Mr. Righteous Mayor.”
His breath fanned over your face, his eyes returning to stare into yours as if looking for a reaction he knew you wouldn’t want to give him.
But you were all riled up now — so he was going to get one.
“What, is this a pity party? You want me to tell you he’s not all that? That I’m better off now I’ve found you? Oh Coop… I want you, I need you, you’re better than him. Only ghoul for me,” you mocked, pressing your hand to your forehead in feigned fawning before snapping back to seriousness, as he watched you frustratedly.
“Like I said, you weren’t a replacement. I wanted company and somewhere along the way I’ve been fuckin’ stupid enough to like your company more than I should,” you huffed, “You don’t have to pretend you want more than this flirty-but-I-hate-you-a-little arrangement ‘cos you’re jealous knowing I’ve had much, much more than that with someone else— and another ghoul at that.”
A growl left his throat at your words, his hand meeting your waist and pushing you forward so that your back was pressed against the wall.
“You’re playin’ a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he warned, “And it’s one you won’t win.”
Your head fell back in frustration and met the wall with a small thud as his other hand pressed firmly against the wall beside it.
“You think I feel inadequate or something?” he snarled, and for a moment you weren’t sure if the question was rhetorical.
“How the fuck should I know? It’s hardly like you let me know how you’re feeling ever,” you sighed, your mind growing increasingly cloudy at your close proximity and his hand still on your waist, “That’s all I meant about John. It’s nice to know someone wants you… Hell, it’s even nice to be told when they don’t no more just as long as you’re being told.”
He was baring his teeth in a snarl still, but his lips began curling back up into a smirk, “You think I don’t want ya? Think I haven’t thought about it when you’re at my side like a fuckin’ dog on a leash looking at me all doe eyed an’ fuckable?”
Your cheeks couldn’t have been more flushed, and you knew he could feel the way your thighs clenched together at his words.
“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” your response was a breathy whisper, the hairs on your neck pricking up and your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.
“Oh that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want opened, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, “Sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. But looks like I ain’t gotta worry about that, huh? Hancock’s already spoiled ya.”
You broke his intense gaze for a moment, eyes finding the floor as your teeth grazed your lips shyly at the weight of his words.
You couldn’t help the feeling that swelled in your chest at the lingering jealousy, and hearing him talk about wanting you as badly as you’d wanted him all this time gave you the confidence to push it.
“Oh he spoiled me good, you’re right,” you shrugged antagonistically, trying to quell the pain that still sat in your chest — albeit pain that took up much less space now that you’d found Cooper.
He scoffed, “That’s fightin’ talk for someone who don’t wanna see him again, darlin’.”
“Yeah well, he made me the happiest I’d been in the Wasteland since I left the vault and then tossed me aside ‘cause he got it in his head that I didn’t actually wanna be with him, like I must’ve been using him for his power and couldn’t really love him ‘cause he’s a fuckin’ ghoul — as if I didn’t know that when we met,” you grunted, “That’s all the fuckin’ chems for ya.”
Cooper leaned in closer to you now, “Well he’s a fuckin’ bigger idiot than I already thought he was, giving up you when he had ya all to himself like that.”
“Figure he doesn’t care. Might as well be married to Goodneighbor anyway.”
There was silence between you for a moment, nothing but heaved breaths and heavy eye contact as you pieced together what to do next.
You watched Cooper’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and could almost see the conflict behind them as he battled the urge to kiss you.
“I don’t wanna see him, but I don’t still want him, if that’s what’s stopping you,” you gulped, “In case it’s not loud and clear, I want you. Just didn’t wanna see him without any confirmation you aren’t gonna rock up there and declare me as some kinda fuckin’ pet and humiliate me even more than he did.”
“Enough talk about him,” Cooper growled, one hand pulling your face to his by the jaw, “If he don’t realise what he’s missin’, I definitely fuckin’ do.”
Finally, he kissed you.
Your hands flew around his neck, lips meeting his with equal fiery passion and pure need.
His one hand still remained cupping your jaw, whilst the other explored the waistband of your trousers earnestly, thumbing at your hipbone.
Finally, after all of these weeks of pining and sexual tension, Cooper Howard was giving you exactly what you needed — and all thoughts of John Hancock melted away.
You found yourself pulling him as close as physically possible, allowing him to press you against the wall as he stole your breath with the intensity of the kiss.
“Mightn’t be your first rodeo, sugar,” his lips pressed just behind your ear as he spoke, “But I’m sure as shit gonna make it feel like it is.”
———
eeeee please lmk if you’d like a part two with smut. or just a part two where they eventually go to goodneighbor. please feel free to request more coop or some hancock, and be warned there are more coop x hancock’s gf/ex!reader fics in the drafts because i can’t stop myself!!!!
in the meantime — here’s my masterlist.
#john hancock x reader#john hancock#fallout 4#john hancock imagine#john hancock x sole survivor#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout tv series#fallout hancock#fallout ghoul
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I Think There Are Actual Hints That Vox and Alastor Work Really Well Together or More Like They Have All They Need to Work Together
So we know that Vox and Alastor like to define each other by how their preferred medium is better, but what’s interesting is that’s just how they define each other, Alastor being an old fashioned radio and Vox being a sell out TV, but that’s not what they are, what they are is Audio and Video. We even see when one might have done better with the others help, like Alastor’s commercial that he did for the hotel
His Audio was fine enough, got your attention, but holy shit, the video was awkward at best, it makes you uncomfortable watching it. And it makes it even more awkward when you can tell Alastor is overcompensating with his voice. But what he did know was a little impressive, some people pointed out that he probably did the editing himself. I believe that these out of place skills such as summoning tech and knowing how it works are remnants of Vox. Just like How Vox is always Smiling when he needs to take control of a situation is remnants of Alastor
They probably learned these things from each other. As a matter of fact the way Alastor kept jumping from scene to scene in the commercial was similar to how Vox kept jumping from visual to visual in the beginning of stayed gone, going vary fast to keep attention. Speaking of which
Stayed Gone is an example where Vox is really strong in visuals, buuuuut probably needed a little help audio wise
Alastor knows how to lure you in with what you hear, Vox pulls you in with what you see, and yeah he snatches your attention right away and (like I said earlier) jumps from visual to visual and you can’t help but be transfixed
Buuuuutt that’s Vox’s problem, they are just watching, his audience can’t even grasp what the fuck he is trying to say because Vox is overcompensating with visuals, and it’s how Alastor verbally slaughtered him in stayed gone. Alastor is so charismatic and experienced with capturing an audience with his voice alone that Vox immediately loses his.
Because, just like how Audio can’t do all the work, neither can video, and one can’t overcompensate for the other, they need to flow together
But I have noticed this a while back, what made me think that they probably work really well together, or rather they have all they need to work together, is what @cringefailvox said about the different outfits that characters like Vox and Alastor wear during songs that have symbolism to it
Like how Vox always dresses as roles that are the leader or face of an organization Bishop/TV Chef/Captain. Roles that have power, but are at the whims of many people and need the approval of said people to stay in power
While Alastor is dressed in more subservient roles Nun/Busboy, roles that are essential to run the organization but often go unnoticed, but can pull the rug out from under said organization if they decide to leave. In other words, it might be symbolic that he is a support (until he decides to take it away)
So Vox being the front runner and presenter basically being everything you see (Which is ironic because Vox means The Voice) and Alastor providing support and stability (he honestly doesn’t do to bad with support, stability is up for debate though) is another way they, in theory, could make a good team.
But the team up would work just like audio and video unfortunately, video is not the most important part, but it’s the part that gets the most credit. while audio emphasis and supports video, it’s part goes unnoticed until it’s not there. And Alastor’s ego has an ass so fat it’s aw inspiring that he can fit it through the door, so that may have been ONE of the reasons he said no to joining Vox (not saying it’s the only reason or even main one)
Vox may even see the potential for exactly what their partnership could be and it’s a reason why he took it so personally when Alastor shot him down
And it’s just so interesting that Vox and Alastor act like forces that should be pitted against each other but their capabilities show that they would go together like peanut butter and chocolate (in theory)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#alastor#vox#hazbin hotel analysis
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The Monday Pursuit
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader
Synopsis: The three times Derek tries to find out your name, and the one time he finally gets it. Or, the story of four different Mondays that Derek spends on the pursuit of your name.
Warning(s): shy!reader, cursing, public confrontation (verbal and physical) with a douchebag, verbal and physical threats, talks of killing someone, name-calling, protective derek, a bit of damsel in distress situation, and that's it really. this is just tooth-rotting fluff 💞
Word Count: 4300-ish
Author's Note: I FINALLY POSTED A DEREK ONE SHOT! YAY! I was toying around with the idea of making this a series of connected one shots, each one focusing on the significance of a particular day (tuesday, wednesday, thursday, etc) in the progress of your relationship. does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? tell me what you think! plsss!!! don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG
Criminal Minds Masterlist
Derek noticed you on a Monday.
He couldn't count how many times his eyes had swept over you absentmindedly in the past few weeks. None of them ever lasted long enough for him to linger around, but somehow, this particular Monday was different.
It was different because the moment Derek's gaze drifted towards the direction where he would usually find you, he finally noticed that you were gone.
It was ironic in a way, how he only noticed you in the wake of your absence. But somewhere in the ruckus that his favorite coffee shop would whirl into every morning, Derek had begun associating the table in the corner of that place with you.
Even then, when someone else was occupying the seat at the end of his long stare, Derek could picture the scene in his head: your laptop on the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hand, and a serious but adorable crease on the center of your forehead. Those three things stood out from the rest. Perhaps if he had the same eidietic ability as Spender Reid, Derek could list more details about your habits and person. Nonetheless, somewhere in his subsconscious, Derek's memories must have deemed you important enough to keep, and that was all it took for him to wonder what about you was so goddamn special.
His fog of reverie was soon broken by an interrupting voice, "She's out of town."
Derek turned his head to see one of the barristas giving him a sly smile. "Excuse me?"
"The writer. She's out of town."
"Writer?" Derek didn't know that. "She's a writer?"
"On the side. She's in grad school," the barrista said. "She has two books out and another one pending publication. She's in New York right now for a book signing."
The word impressive promptly filled Derek's mind, and judging by the barrista's expression, it seemed that the word had translated unmistakably on his face, too.
"You know, you shouldn't give out someone's information to random people like that," Derek warned.
"I don't usually, but I thought, since you're FBI..."
The surprise in Derek's eyes couldn't be more palpable. "How'd you know?"
"Dude, you've been around a while." The barrista shrugged. "Besides, I don't think she would mind."
Derek frowned.
"She likes you," the barrista revealed once they saw the confusion settling on Derek's face.
"What?"
"She's got a bad crush on you, didn't you know?"
"Uh, no?"
"Huh." The barrista put down the cup containing Derek's order on the counter. "I thought you knew. She was so obvious. I mean, I'm not sure how she hasn't burned through the back of your skull with how hard she always stares."
Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe what Derek was feeling. His curious eyes flicked momentarily towards your table before he addressed the barrista again, "She's a friend of yours?"
"Hell yeah, she is." The barrista smiled. "That's why I know she's got it bad for you."
Being admired wasn't exactly something new for Derek, so he struggled to comprehend why the thought of you crushing on him had triggered a wave of heat to travel up and down his body.
"What's her name?" Derek asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant as he picked up his cup of coffee.
The barrista grinned smugly. "I thought you told me not to give someone's information to a random person like that?"
With that said, the barrista went to attend to another customer, leaving Derek to curse over his excellent ability to dig up his own hole.
You were back in town the following week.
When Derek walked into the coffee shop the next Monday, he immediately found you huddled up in your usual seat. For one split second, Derek saw you looking up from your laptop, your eyes locking with his from across the room. But before he could offer a smile, you averted your gaze as if you couldn't wait to get away from him.
That thought didn't conjure well in Derek's mind.
Derek proceeded to give his usual order and waited by the counter. However, when he saw a plate of blueberry muffin being placed next to his cup to go, Derek glimpsed up in confusion at the awaiting smirk on your friend's--the barrista's--face.
"I didn't order this."
"No, you didn't. But do you know whose favorite dessert it is?"
Derek casted a glance towards your direction.
"Exactly." The barrista grinned wider. "Now, go. It's on the house."
The loud drumming inside Derek's chest should have been laughable.
He was never like this. Derek was always self-assured, especially when it came to flirting and courting, so there really was no reason for him to be feeling like this. But something about you had spiked the rhytmic beating in his chest, and Derek didn't like being out of his element when there was a pretty girl at stake.
Thus, with an ease born out of years of practice, Derek worked to turn on his good ol' charm. The same one that dripped from his footsteps as he sauntered over your table with his coffee in one hand and one special plate of blueberry muffin in the other.
Deer caught in headlights; that was exactly the perfect description to visualize how you looked when Derek finally placed the muffin on the table. The man smirked triumphantly at the knowledge that he affected you just as much as you affected him.
"Hey," Derek greeted almost complacently. "I heard this is your favorite."
"What? I don't.... how did you..."
You stopped speaking altogether, sending a grimace to the direction of the counter--where your friend was working--when you deduced what could probably have transpired
"I missed you last week," Derek added.
If you were abashed before, then you must have been mortified when those words slipped out of Derek's lips. You looked up at him with a gaping mouth, and Derek would have laughed at how precious you looked if he didn't have compassion for your poor nerves.
"I was out of town," you eventually managed to say.
"I heard. A writer, right? You had a book signing." Derek smiled. "That's impressive. Anything of yours I might know?"
Your face contorted after hearing his question. "I doubt it. I'm not big at all."
"I don't know. Book signing in New York? Sounds pretty big to me."
"Not as much as you would expect, to be honest."
Derek didn't know why, but he despised the sound of you downplaying your own accomplishments as if they weren't worthy of being praised. He swore he would assist in changing that tendency if given the chance.
"My name is Derek. Derek Morgan."
"I know."
Derek raised a curious eyebrow.
You cowered shyly when you realized what you had admitted. "I heard you mention it a while ago, when you were ordering."
"And you remember?"
Your bashful expression nearly compelled Derek to cheer out loud.
"Do you need something?" you finally asked, not at all mean or bitter, more timid than anything else.
"Yes. I was wondering if I could ask for your name."
"My name?
Derek nodded. "Well, you see, I wanted to ask for your number, but I figured since I still don't have your name yet, then maybe I should get around to it first."
You bit your bottom lip, seemingly in deep thought as you assessed Derek with soft eyes.
"My name is--"
Just as the answer was dangling on the tip of your tongue, Derek's phone suddenly started to ring. He internally cursed his life for its partiality to bad timings, holding up an apologetic finger as he accepted the call without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Hey, beefcake, where are you?" Penelope Garcia asked from the other end of the line. "Hotch just told everyone to be up and running in 30."
"What? I thought the briefing starts in 30."
"He's debriefing on the plane. Another body just turned up."
"Shit. Shit. Okay, fine, I'll be there."
Derek ended the call in the next second, panic clouding his mind to the point that he failed to realize he didn't bid his usual farewell to his favorite tech analyst. In front of him, you were staring with a pair of expectant eyes that made Derek wish he could stop time to spend it by your side. Alas, such power only existed in fantasy, and Derek--frankly--didn't have enough time at hand to pay grievance over that fact.
"I'm sorry."
Your face fell at Derek's apology, even if slightly.
"God, this sucks. I wish I could stay. I haven't even--"
"Derek, it's okay," you cut him off. "Just go."
"But you didn't--"
"Derek." Your hand on the table slid forward, as though wanting to reach out to him but stopped shortly before you did. "I'm always here."
It was such a simple statement. Three small words that carried hardly any weight on their own whatsoever. But strung together, Derek knew exactly what you meant, the real meaning behind the sentence you chose to say.
You can go. It's okay. We'll continue this some other time.
Reeling from your generous understanding, Derek rushed a goodbye before sprinting towards the door. But just as he was about to touch its handle, he span around for one last look, calling out a sentence that he had pocketed safely as a promise.
"I'll see you soon."
Since Derek's last encounter with you at the coffee shop, the BAU had been thrown from one case to another in the span of two weeks, during which Derek seemed to struggle eliminating the thought of you from the depth of his mind.
When a new Monday rolled around, Derek found himself whistling to a favorite tune as he took the morning route towards the coffee shop. The day was a gloomy one, gray and cloudy with a high chance of rain, contrasting entirely with the sunshine inside Derek's chest. In a few minutes, he would finally see you again, and Derek couldn't wait to woo you into agreeing on a date with him as his palm pressed on the door of the coffee shop.
Unfortunately, Derek's movements ceased the moment he stepped into the familiar establishment.
The atmosphere in the coffee shop struck no resemblance to what Derek had associated with the place: warm, safe, and welcoming. Instead, the taste of tension was hot on his tongue, sizzling under the thick silence that had rendered the entire room into a standstill.
In the middle of it all, just a few paces from where the front door stood, Derek had found you.
You were standing with your head down, which wasn't a strange sight considering that you often did that to avoid unwanted attention. But Derek never saw your lips quiver that way before, nor did he ever see your eyes blown so out of proportion in a telltale sign of fright.
Upon a further inspection of the room, Derek realized that he wasn't the only one whose eyes were trained on you. Every patron in the shop, including every worker behind the counter, was staring openly in your direction as well. He was a milisecond away from taking another step when the man in front of you started to scream out of the blue.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you fucking stupid?!"
The malicious words didn't sit well with the vituous bone in Derek's body. But it was seeing you flinch from the verbal onslaught that finally made Derek dash forward, putting himself as a shield between you and the insolent stranger.
"That's enough," Derek said as he tugged you behind his back.
The stranger looked up at Derek with an ugly scowl on his face. "Who the hell are you?!"
"If you have a problem, let's take this outsi--"
"I don't have a problem with you, dickhead. I have a problem with her!" Derek extended to his full height instinctively, trying to hide you from the brazen man. "Now, move. This is none of your fucking business!"
"It became my business the second you chose to disrupt everyone's morning," Derek countered. "Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"
"Why don't you ask your bitch, huh? She fucking started all of this."
"Fucking bastard."
Red clouded Derek's vision when he clenched the man's collar in his hand. All around him, the crowd erupted in a chorus of gasps. Satisfaction filled Derek's chest when he glimpsed the hint of fear in the man's eyes.
"I dare you to say one more word about her," Derek seethed. "I dare you."
"Derek." He felt your fingers then, twisting around a portion of his shirt, pulling desperately until Derek loosened his grip on the other man. "Please."
The douchebag stumbled dramatically when Derek finally discarded him to the side.
Derek span around, looking directly into your eyes for the first time that morning. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"
Instead of answering his question, you pushed past a frowning Derek, addressing the horrible man whose face was now crimson; either from rage or embarrassment, Derek didn't know. He didn't care.
"I'm sorry, sir." Your voice vibrated in the air. It wavered with a clear sign of tears. "I didn't... I wasn't thinking. I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry. And I apologize to everyone for ruining your day."
With that, you turned around and picked up your belongings that were scattered on the floor before dashing straight out of the door. Derek stared at your back until it disappeared from view.
"You better tell me what the fuck happened here," Derek fumed towards the man.
"You heard her. She fucked up, that's what happened."
"That's not true." A new voice arose. Derek turned his head to see your barrista friend standing behind the counter, their eyes flaming with anger.
"The poor girl spilled her coffee," another voice interjected. It belonged to an old lady who was standing at the very front of the line. "She didn't mean to, but it got all over his things. Then he just started screaming all kinds of stuff to her."
Derek closed his eyes before reopening them again, shooting daggers towards the man. "You're pulling this crap over a spilled fucking coffee?!"
The other man began to stutter. "She ruined important documents!"
"It wasn't even her fault," the barrista added. "He was too busy being on his phone to watch where he was going."
That last piece of information was the last straw for Derek.
He used his forearm to push the douchebag by the throat, slamming his back against the wall until the man gasped for air.
"You will never step foot in here again, do you hear me?" Derek pressed his elbow deeper into the man, stopping only when he started to nod frantically. "You don't come near this place, ever again. But most importantly, you don't come near her. I'm gonna fucking kill you if you do."
Derek let him go afterwards, ignoring the series of coughs that the man had fallen into while he marched towards the door.
"Don't even think for a minute that I'm gonna let this go!" the man shouted just as Derek was about to exit the coffee shop. "I'll be notifying the authorities about what happened here today. You'll see!"
The scoff Derek let out couldn't be more condescending. "Yeah, you do that. And when you do, tell them--" Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out his credentials before flashing it towards the man, "--the name's Agent Derek Morgan. FBI."
He slammed the door behind him.
Once outside, Derek's eyes darted around to find any trace of you in the midst of the morning rush hour. Eventually, he spotted the back of your head, walking away about a few feet ahead of him. Derek broke into a sprint almost immediately, squeezing himself in between the ocean of people, trying to catch up with you before realizing that he most like wouldn't be able to.
Just as he watched you turning a corner, Derek mourned the fact that he couldn't call out to you because he still didn't know your name.
It was the second Monday that Derek didn't see you anywhere in, or near, the coffee shop.
In total, it had been two whole weeks without you showing your face at the place, not even once. Your barrista friend was as clueless about your whereabouts as Derek was. He even had started coming into the shop at odd hours during the day, or whenever his schedule would allow him to, sometimes lingering for a few minutes in the morning just in case he would catch you walking through those doors.
You never did.
In a moment fueled by something akin to desperation, Derek found himself marching towards the office of Penelope Garcia. If there was anyone who could find you--who you were, where you were, and everything else about you--it was going to be the team's tech genius.
The tech analyst wasn't in the room when Derek entered, and as he found himself standing there--alone in the silence--Derek was confronted by how ridiculous he was being.
He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the thought of never seeing you again managed to lure him into considering a breach of privacy. Derek had barely even talked to you, yet whatever brief interaction the two of you had so far was enough to affect him in ways that shouldn't be possible.
Derek decided to turn around and vacant the room before anyone could catch him lingering there like an idiot, but his steps fell short when he saw Penelope standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing here, Sugar?" Penelope questioned, her eyes squinting into a suspicion-filled look.
"Looking for you, of course," Derek lied.
"Derek Morgan, I didn't spend years working with the best profilers in the country to not be able to tell when someone is lying." Penelope walked towards her chair, making sure that she was settled comfortably before swiveling around to face Derek again. "Talk to me."
"Babygirl, there's nothing to talk about."
"Oh my God. It's about a girl."
How the fuck does she do that?
"Derek, you tell me right now every single thing about this lovely creature who has captured your heart, and I meant every single thing. What's her name? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? You guys are official, right? Because if not, then--"
"Okay, Blondie, pump your brakes," Derek interfered before Penelope could vomit the entire content of the Oxford dictionary. "There's no girl."
Penelope frowned. "There isn't?"
"No."
"But you want it to be?"
Derek couldn't give her an answer.
"Mister, you tell me what's going on right now, and don't leave out any details."
So, that was exactly what Derek ended up doing.
He told Penelope about you; about the little snippets of yourself that had infiltrated Derek's subsconscious without him even realizing it, about your first proper interraction where your smile looked more appetizing than the blueberry muffin he had put on the table, and about the incident that marked his last ever encounter with you.
By the time he wrapped the story up, Penelope's face was a heap of reactions.
"You know," the tech analyst finally said, "I can probably find her for you."
"I told you I don't want that, Sweetness."
"But why?!" Penelope nearly whined. "You like her, and her friend said she obviously likes you, too. What if you never see her again? Are you seriously just going to let your story end in what ifs?"
"Of course, I don't want that. But this is not how I want our story to start, too, if there is even gonna be one." Derek gripped Penelope's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. "Thanks for the offer, Babygirl, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."
For the rest of that day, Derek threw himself into work in order to keep his head preoccupied with something else other than the images of you.
In a few hours, he had successfully completed all of the pending case reports that were piling on his desk. A quick glance at the clock told Derek that he still had another three hours before he was supposed to go home. Sighing, Derek got up from his desk and walked towards the pantry.
"It's been four hours," Derek heard Emily say as soon as he walked towards the kitchenette. "What are they doing there?"
"She could be a reporter. Maybe she's interviewing him," Spencer theorized.
"Who's interviewing who?" Derek asked.
He headed for the coffee maker only to realize that there was no coffee left. Derek cursed under his breath before he went to make a fresh batch.
"Rossi has a guest, and they've been in his office for four hours," Spencer explained.
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't see anyone."
"She came in during lunch."
"Huh. A woman?"
Spencer nodded.
"Potential lover?" Derek asked again.
"I don't think so. She's young."
"Unless, he's that kind of guy." Emily smirked.
Spencer frowned. "What kind of guy?"
"I don't think Rossi's like that." Derek chuckled.
"Who is she, then?" Emily questioned.
"Is no one going to tell me what kind of guy Rossi is?" Spencer suddenly said.
"A student, perhaps? A fan? Who knows?" Derek shrugged. "Or maybe you were right. She's here to interview him."
"Oh! Here they come!" Emily exclaimed a few minutes later.
Derek turned to steal a glance at the guest that had captured his fellow teammates' interest. But just as he was about to catch a glimpse of her, Derek suddenly spilled hot coffee everywhere, flooding nearly half the counter until some of it dripped down the cabinets as well.
"Shit." Derek stared at the mess he had made in annoyance. "Fuck me."
"She's really pretty, though," Emily pointed out--no doubt about Rossi's guest--earning an agreeing hum from Spencer.
After he had cleaned up the spilled coffee, Derek ambled back towards the direction of his desk. As he was passing the glass doors to the bullpen, however, Derek saw Rossi standing in front of the elevator, waving towards the person who had just walked inside of it.
Someone who--as Derek realized with a particularly loud thump in his chest--turned out to be you.
Derek was barely able to place the steaming cup of coffee on a random desk before he made a run for the elevator. But just as he reached Rossi's side, the elevator's doors had closed, making you vanish once more from Derek's sight.
"Shit," Derek muttered. "Shit. Shit. Shit."
Beside him, Rossi was staring in open confusion. "Morgan?"
Derek finally turned towards the older man. "The girl who was in the elevator. Who is she?"
Rossi's forehead creased. "Why?"
"Do you know her?"
"She's a fellow crime writer. She was here for a consultation," Rossi answered. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"
"Her name. What's her name?"
"What the hell is going on, Morgan?"
"Rossi, come on, man," Derek sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I just need her name."
Derek barely succeeded in mumbling a quick thank you to Rossi for giving him your name before he rushed straight to the emergency stairs. The entire run down to the lobby was a blur in Derek's eyes. The only focus in his mind was about getting to you.
Once he was outside of the headquarters building, Derek saw you walking a few paces ahead of him in the direction of the parking lot. He shouted your name with all of his might, seeing you stop and turn your body around from the distance, and soon enough, he had managed to close it in a matter of seconds.
Derek was a mess of panting breaths and drumming heartbeats when he finally stood in front of you. The look you gave him spoke of surprise and bewilderment, and Derek relished in the feeling of being at the receiving end of your lovely gaze.
"Derek? What? What are you--"
"I work with Rossi," Derek stated simply.
Your eyebrows escalated in surprise. "You do?"
"Yeah. I saw you earlier with him," Derek continued. "I haven't seen you in awhile."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed his eyes to roam over your entire person, from the top of your head to the tip your toes. There was no malice in his stare as he did, just appreciation, and maybe a little bit of longing from not having seen you in such a long time.
"I haven't been to the coffee shop again. Not after--" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I was embarrassed. I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart."
"You got dragged into my mess. I owe you an apology."
"You owe me nothing. Okay? What happened wasn't your fault. That man was just an asshole," Derek told you truthfully. "You don't have to be worried about him anymore. He's never coming back."
His last statement caused you to lift your head up so fast, Derek was scared you were going to have a whiplash.
"Nothing happened, sweetheart," he elaborated once he saw the panic in your eyes. "I just made sure to let him know that he wasn't welcome there anymore."
The breath you let out sounded eerily similar with relief.
"Thank you, Derek. For everything," you offered shyly. "Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it up to you."
That last sentence you uttered prompted a wide grin across Derek's face. "Actually, there may be something."
Derek took a step closer towards you then, noting the way your shoulders tensed up from his proximity. His own senses were overcome by everything about you; from the slight parting of your lips, the steady rise and fall of your chest that seemed to be growing more rapid in Derek's presence, and to the sweet plus addictive smell of your perfume.
Taking his own deep breath, Derek forced the words--the same ones that he had been keeping deep inside of him--to tumble freely into the air.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
#derek morgan#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x you#derek morgan fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x fem!reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds fluff#shemar moore#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#emily prentiss#penelope garcia#david rossi
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Could you write something for SebastianxF!reader? Maybe later in their 7th year with Sebastian being jealous of all the boys interested in you. Him figuring out his feelings for you and maybe some kissing at the end 😳
ONLY YOU; SEBASTIAN SALLOW
pairing: sebastian sallow x f!reader
warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint, some arguing, jealousy, very quick slight suggestiveness, reader is seriously so desired by everyone its not even funny, fluff!!! not proofread!
word count: 1k+
a/n: first time writing for sebastian but it was so much fun im so excited!! for anyone who might want to request I write fluff, angst and smut so there's not really any limits. i don’t know how to write dialogue as a british person in the 1800s, so take it easy on me, but i hope u like it!! 🤍
comments/reblogs/likes are appreciateddd
He didn't know why he was so upset at the sight before him. You were currently sitting in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the professor to begin.
It wasn't just you at your table. There were also two boys, whose names you can't remember. They were both bragging about different things to you, one about Quidditch, the other about his amazing skills in Herbology.
It was a painful sight to watch, seeing as Sebastian was sat at the table just behind you. From where he was, he could very obviously tell they were trying to flirt with you. It bothered him deeply, why would these guys ever think they had a chance with you?
Smart, beautiful, perfect you. Things he all believed. Of course, he didn't think anything of it. Why wouldn't he acknowledge how beautiful you were? That was just simple human nature. But that didn't stop him from wondering why he was so bothered by the guys flirting with you.
He hated the thought of them doing anything with you. Talking with you, kissing you, touching you. The thought made his blood boil.
This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sebastian can recall the many times your chats were interrupted by another guy trying to take you on a date. Of course, you said no each time, but it wasn't any less annoying to him. He'd learned to refrain from rolling his eyes at this point, but still silently cursed the lads in his head.
"Alright, everyone! Take a seat." Professor Hecat spoke, allowing the two boys at your table to sit at their respective seats.
"Today, we are going to be doing something a little different. I want you to each partner up with someone, and then I will be explaining the rest." You immediately got up, about to go towards Sebastian when another boy got in your way, Liam, if you can remember correctly.
"Hey, Y/N, wanna partner up?" Sebastian couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. You paused for a moment, trying to find a way to politely reject the boy.
"Erm, sorry... Liam, right? I'm afraid I've already partnered up with Sebastian." The brunette boy lit up at your words, suddenly feeling confident and looking at Liam with a smug face.
The other boy nodded with a tight lip smile, before leaving, defeated. You sat down next to Sebastian, who now had a bright smile on his face. "What are you all smiley about?" You teased.
"Nothing, let's listen for Professor Hecat's instructions, yeah?" Both you and him brushed it off, spending the rest of the class chatting up a storm and doing the assignment.
___
A few days have passed, and it just so happened to be Valentine's Day. You and Sebastian had gone to The Three Broomsticks to drink a butter beer together, as your own 'Galentine's Day', though you weren't sure if you could call it that because Sebastian wasn't a girl, but you were both single so the concept was the same.
You were sipping on your drink, enjoying each other's company when you see a guy who you recognize from your Charms class, someone whose tried to ask you out before, approach you.
"Y/N? It's Patrick, from Charms? I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna get a drink with me." This visibly angered Sebastian, his grip on his glass tightening, knuckles turning white. Before you could speak, Sebastian decided to tell Patrick a few words of his own.
"Don't you see that she's busy with me right now? And I don't know if it's clicked in that noggin of yours, but have you ever considered that maybe she's just not into you?" His voice was slightly raising at this point, but you couldn't help but find it attractive.
Patrick's eyes widened a little before backing up, muttering an apology and walking away. You turned to face Sebastian. "Why did you do that? You didn't even let me get a word in."
"Oh, please, Y/N, didn't you see how he was looking at you? It's like you were a chocolate frog and he was ready to eat you! Trust me, he's not the right guy for you." You quirked an eyebrow at his statement.
"Then who is?" You watched as he hesitated for a moment, before taking a sigh as if to prepare himself, and looked you in the eyes.
"I am," You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say at the sudden confession.
"Y/N, I'm not sure why I didn't come to this realization sooner, but I've fallen for you. Deeply. I mean, we've gone through everything together, and you're just so perfect. You're truly one of the most amazing people I've ever known, and I've never felt this way about anyone be-"
You cut him off by leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own, catching him off guard. He's thrown off at first, but quickly matches your rhythm with his own, your lips fitting together like puzzle pieces, sparks flying everywhere in the room.
The kiss is everything and more. With his mouth still on yours, he grabs your chair, pulling you in closer, before moving his hands to you, one on your face, holding your cheek, the other holding your hand.
You both break apart, breathless with stupid smiles on your faces. "I've been waiting forever for you to say that." You grab his hand with both of yours.
If it was possible, his smile got even wider at your words. "You have?" You nodded, figuring it was time to confess.
"You've given me absolute butterflies since the moment I met you, Sebastian. I had all but hoped that you felt the same way. Why do you think I've always rejected the guys that flirted with me?
It's because it's you. It's only been you." You lean in for another kiss before Sebastian suggests a real date, perfectly fitting the day. The two of you leave The Three Broomsticks, feeling happier than ever before.
#Sebastian sallow#Sebastian sallow x reader#Hogwarts legacy#hogwarts#harry potter#Sebastian sallow fanfiction#Sebastian sallow fluff#Harry Potter hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow fanfic
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I just thought of something really sad but at least it ends on a happy note.
Aventurine's partner leaving him after years of being together not so much because of his job but because they don't want to burden him.
This sucks the life out of Aventurine who immediately begs them to stay. Is it because of the gifts he gave them? He'll give them better gifts! Or is it their dates? No worries, he'll take them to better restaurants! He'll do better! Just, please, don't leave him. But it's too late, they're already out the door, much to his horror and grief.
In his desperation, he tries calling and texting them to no avail. As he sits in his office like a lifeless doll, he begins to laugh but it eventually turns into sobs. He doesn't even realize he's cried himself to sleep until he woke up from a dream where you're still with him.
Poor Aventurine couldn't eat anything without feeling nauseous and has to resort to consuming meal replacements. It's not healthy at all but what was he supposed to do? He's body rejects any food that isn't yours. His stress has increased yet he couldn't rest or sleep well without you.
As the days went by, he's just a mess; unkempt hair and wardrobe, red puffy eyes with dark bags, and he looked thinner. Then, one day, he ends up passing out. As his consciousness begins to fade, he swore he could hear your voice amongst the worried IPC members.
Aventurine wakes up in his room, dressed in his pajamas when he smells a familiar smell. He immediately gets out of bed and sprints towards the kitchen. There you were in an apron, cooking several of his favorite dishes. He felt his eyes get watery and his sniffles startled you and you spun around. Before you can ask him if he's alright, his arms are already around you. He begs for you to come back to him because he couldn't bare living another day without you or your presence. After sitting down and talking for hours, you two were able to rekindle your relationship.
That night, he slept with a full stomach and a happy feeling in his chest because you were back in his arms.
Oh my gosh, Aventurine-
But this immediately got me thinking about the other characters that would be completely destroyed if you left after being with him for so many years…
Spoilers for Sunday~
-If you had been with Argenti for a long time and you suddenly decided it would be better if you went your separate ways…yeah. I think that would really throw him off his balance.
You’re gone, you’re gone…you were his everything, his Angel, and you were gone now…what is he supposed to even do?? Pursuing beauty has such little meaning without you in his life. What’s the point of gazing upon beauty without someone to share it with?
It’d be so hard to see Argenti like that. He’s usually so…bright. So full of life. But now he’s lost his luster. Anyone who once knew him can tell something’s wrong. He used to be so happy, so interested in people, and spreading the name of Beauty and Idrila but now you’re gone so what’s the point?
He’s so uncharacteristically quiet now. You left your wedding ring on your pillow when you left, and now he carries it with him, in the small hope of one day returning it to you.
-Gallagher is a MESS. You couldn’t have anticipated how much it’d really hurt him to leave but…you had to. You couldn’t handle being alone anymore, always just…waiting for him to come home.
His life kinda falls apart. He becomes a little harsher in his security guard duties. He drinks more. He still has a picture of you in his wallet.
He misses you. Misses you so much. He’s your pathetic ex-husband who’s desperate to have you back. You get a lot of voice mails and text messages, but for some reason you don’t have the heart to just…block him.
Okay maybe a controversial take but I’ll say it…Sunday is EMOTIONAL. He’s already lost one person very important to him, and he had to act like it didn’t shake him up, and now you’re leaving him, too?
He doesn’t understand. Doesnt understand why you’re doing this to him. Doesn’t understand why you must disappear too…hasn’t he already given enough? Why must you do this to him?
You just couldn’t handle him anymore.
Maybe he’ll finally break. He disappears from the public eye long enough for people to notice. For people to ask questions.
And when he finally appears again, there’s no you in sight. Something is visibly wrong with him. He’s missing feathers from his pretty wings, the deep bags under his eyes are hard to ignore…Anyone can tell he’s just TRYING to hold it together, but he’s completely alone now…how okay can he be?
Even his little “I’m back and everything’s FINE” speech sounded incredibly wrong. He’s not fine.
He misses you, he misses Robin, and it doesn’t help that the Masked Fool is constantly shapeshifting into you just to mock him.
She loves making up all sorts of reasons for why you might’ve left.
Oh he was too mean to you…he didn’t give you enough attention…you found someone better than him…
He’s never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, but how could he raise his hand against someone who looks like you…?
He will try to continue to suffer in silence…but who knows how long that’ll last before he finally breaks.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#Aventurine#Aventurine x reader#Hsr Aventurine x reader#honkai star rail Aventurine x reader#Argenti#Argenti x reader#hsr Argenti x reader#honkai star rail Argenti x reader#Gallagher#Gallagher x reader#Hsr Gallagher x reader#honkai star rail Gallagher x reader#Sunday#Sunday x reader#Hsr Sunday x reader#honkai star rail Sunday x reader
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She Said What (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Seeing Gary get down on one knee shattered you. Tasting Melissa on your lips put you back together again.
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: none
It was like taking a knife to the gut, twisting in your intestines, leaving you gasping for breath. You weren’t meant to be there. Eyes darting around the room, you were desperate for escape. You couldn’t breathe. One step back, then another, you fled down the hall before you could hear the answer.
Gary had asked Melissa to marry him. And you, like an idiot, had fallen completely in love with her.
When it had been nothing but a relationship, kept on the outskirts, it was easier. Avoiding the break room on Tuesdays, not asking about weekend plans or prying to much into her relationship, you could keep your friendship with her devoid of any details. It was easier that way. You couldn’t be plagued of thoughts of the two of them together. If you didn’t think about it, your jealousy couldn’t run rampant, ruining your friendship with her.
Now though…
You’d be seeing the ring on her finger. You might be invited to the wedding. She might change her last name. It would be everywhere, in your face, reminding you how the woman you love was not yours to love. That your chance with her had slipped away.
Career day was a bust and you needed escape and yet you were trapped in your classroom with the kids, praying the clock would speed up and you would have your freedom. Right now, Melissa was somewhere in the building, a new sparkly ring on her finger, joy in her heart, desperate to go home and celebrate with her new fiancé.
You felt sick at the thought.
The bell rung and you thanked the mechanic who had come to speak to your class, shaking his oil stained hand. Sinking down onto your chair, you buried your head in your hands, letting out a long breath. You would have groaned if not for being in a place anyone walking past could hear. All you wanted was to pack up your stuff and go home, curling up in your bed and letting yourself give in to the pressure building behind your eyes.
“You look like you’ve had a day about as good as mine.”
You startled, looking up from the hands your head was resting in. Melissa was walking into your classroom, hands thrust into the pockets of her leather jacket. You blinked, trying to rearrange your face into something celebratory, not the despair you’d been feeling all afternoon. Stretching your lips into a smile, you felt it stiffen as you looked at her.
“Hey,” you said, “congratulations. I saw the feed. It was a beautiful proposal.”
“It was,” she agreed, resting against the edge of one of the student’s desks, much as she had at the front of her classroom when Gary got down on one knee.
“You must be so happy,” you said.
“Not really,” she replied with a small shrug.
“Well, not when you’re here with me but I bet Gary is waiting at home for you to celebrate,” you said, offering her a sheepish smile.
“He better not be. I don’t need another restraining order,” she said.
“Ha, yeah,” you said, “wait, what?”
She quirked an eyebrow up at you. You had no ides what was going on, on the back foot of the conversation so quickly. When her lips quirked up, you lost any words to try and fix whatever situation you’d found yourself in.
“Hon, did you see my answer?” she asked.
“Of course I did,” you replied, laughing uncomfortably.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing, “I said no.”
“What?” That was not what you were expecting.
“I said no. You know I have no interest in being married again. He didn’t listen no matter how many times I told him. We want different things,” she said.
‘So you…?” You didn’t want to assume after your last assumption had gone so badly.
“We broke up,” she said.
“Oh, Mel, I’m so sorry.”
You made your way around your desk, perching beside her. You found her leaning against your shoulder, soft hair brushing against you as you curled an arm around her waist. Her head rested against you, shifting closer.
“It’s better we realised. No resentment, no cheating, no attempted murder. A clean break before anyone could get really hurt,” she said.
“Still, it sucks,” you said.
“Yeah, it does,” she sighed.
“I really am sorry,” you said.
“Really? I always got the impression you didn’t really like him,” she said.
You stiffened. She drew away from you, turning those beautiful green eyes onto you. You tried to stutter out an answer, to refute her claim, to lie right to her face. But there was nothing. No words came out and you were left staring at her, anxiety swooping in your stomach.
“You were never comfortable when I talked about him so I stopped but I always wondered what was wrong with him,” she said.
“Is that why you said no?” Guilt curled in your stomach.
“Of course not. I really don’t want to get married again. Once was enough. I guess I’m just curious what you saw in him,” she said.
“I didn’t really know him,” you said, offering her a non-committal shrug.
“But you didn’t like him,” she said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.
“It was nothing about him. I’m sure he was fine. Nice even. And you loved him. He wasn’t a bad guy as far as I could tell,” you said.
“He’s not. But I thought we were good enough friends that you’d be honest with me,” she said.
Guilt again, washing over you, wave after wave. She was still looking at you, a small lopsided smile both sad and hopeful. You sighed, leaning into her again, not wanting those eyes assessing you anymore.
“It wasn’t about him. I mean sure, I thought you could do better but it was more to do with me. I didn’t want that to get between us and ruin our friendship,” you said.
“Can’t you just tell me what the issue was?” she asked.
“I don’t think that will make you feel better,” you said.
She hopped off the desk, moving to stand in front of you. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, averting your eyes down to your hands clasped between your thighs. With a forefinger, she tilted your chin up until you were looking back in her eyes.
“I can handle it, hon,” she said.
“Mel,” you sighed, not sure how to finish the sentence.
“It can’t be that bad,” she said, “unless he was the man who mugged your nanna.”
“I don’t think he was,” you said, giving her a weak smile.
“So what is it?”
The finger on your chin was practically burning your skin. You took a deep breath, anxiety making your fingertips tingle and your stomach roil. She was still watching you and you couldn’t tell what emotion it was swimming in her eyes.
“I didn’t want to hear about your relationship because… because…” You squeezed your eyes shut, “because I was jealous.”
“Aw, hon, you’ll find your guy one day,” she said, gently nudging you in the shoulder.
That was not the answer you were expecting. You peeked over to her, her smile softened as she looked at you. You shook your head.
“Not of your relationship,” you said, shoulders slumping, not wanting to keep the secret after coming so close to telling her, “of him.”
“What?” she asked, her smile slipping for a moment.
“Mel,” you sighed, “I’ve been half in love with you for a while now. And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out with Gary because I don’t like you hurting. I don’t want you think this is me trying to swoop in the second you’re single. I’m not that unfeeling.”
The smile had completely left her face, eyes widening and the shock evident. You could only stare at her, waiting for some kind of reaction. Mostly you were waiting to be told to get the hell away from her and never speak to her again. Her hands landed on your knees, fingers digging in as she gripped you hard.
“Hon,” she said, voice catching and you squeezed your eyes closed again, waiting for the slap, “can you look at me?”
You opened your eyes again. She was peering into your face, eyes swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name. Her lips were quirked at the corners, just enough for your heart to begin beating double time. Hands slid further up your legs as she lent towards you. You didn’t know what was going on and you were scared to move. Frozen under her touch, all you could do was stare back at her.
“I wish I’d known. I wish you’d told me,” she said.
“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.
“Of course, hon. If I’d known…” She shook her head.
“It’s fine. I won’t make it weird. We can still be friends. It’ll be like you never knew,” you said, panic beginning to set in. You were desperate not to lose her in all of this. This was like your worst nightmare coming to life before your very eyes.
“I didn’t just break up with Gary because he wanted to get married,” she said, interrupting you before you could continue rambling your reassurances, “there was a part of me that knew I had feelings for you. He couldn’t be my miracle when there was someone else.”
“What?” You couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.
“I wish you’d said something earlier, hon. If I’d known then Gary and I would have never gotten to this point,” she said. Her hands were still moving further up your legs until they were holding your hips.
“I don’t understand,” you said.
“Hon, I’m saying I have feelings for you too,” she said, a smile breaking over her face, bright and heartbreaking and everything you’d wanted to see for so long, “I know this probably isn’t the right time to say it but you’re hot and I like you.”
“You just broke up with Gary,” you said.
“I did. Doesn’t change how I feel about you,” she said, shrugging.
“This is an emotional rollercoaster.” Your lips stretched into a smile, small and soft and the way she seemed to melt at the sight of it only had you reeling again, “isn’t this too soon?”
“Yeah, probably, so we’ll take it slow,” she said.
“Slow?”
“Look, I dunno how this is gonna go but I do know that I like you enough that I want to give this a go. I’ve been single for a few hours and I’m probably going to have to deal with stuff from ending my relationship with Gary so we’ll take it slow and figure it out together. Sound good?”
You thought about it, turning it over in your mind. You’d thought, in your wildest dreams, that if you were offered the chance to be with Melissa you’d grab it with both hands but coming right off the back of her break up it felt… tenuous. But giving it a chance might be the best thing you could do, if only to not have to think about the what if on your death bed.
“Slow sounds good,” you said.
She relaxed, as if she’d been bracing herself for rejection. The smile on her face grew more sure of itself, more playful as she lent in. You shivered when her breath hit your skin, and you looked up into sparkling green eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up under her gaze and blinked, trying to take in her beauty. Trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, you worried at it, breath frozen, watching her with wide eyes and racing heart.
“Must say, hon, you’re pretty cute when you’re nervous,” she said.
“Nervous?” you managed to squeak out, “I’m not nervous.”
“No?” she asked, drawing closer again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “are you sure?”
“Mel,” came out as a strangled noise, “this doesn’t feel slow.”
“Feels like I’m moving pretty slowly to me,” she replied, lips slow to press to your cheek.
A small noise came from your parted lips. She chuckled, drawing back far enough for you to see the way her eyes were smouldering as they focused in on your lips. You found yourself leaning toward her, drawn into her orbit, the gravity of her dragging you closer.
“I suppose one kiss isn’t so fast,” you murmured.
“I’m glad you agree,” she said.
Her lips pressed to yours, muffling a gasp. Arms wound around her neck, fingers burying themselves in red curls. Her fingers dug into your hips, hauling you closer until you were on the edge of the desk, her body caught between your thighs. Her tongue ran along your lower lip, teeth nipping when you moaned into her mouth.
If this was slow, you could get on board with it.
She drew back, making you whimper, fingers tightening on her hair. She placed one last chaste kiss to your lips before disentangling your fingers. The step she took back made you feel bereft before you reminded yourself that today wasn’t about you. You couldn’t imagine the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on that day. Your’s had been bad enough.
“Can we renegotiate this going slow thing?” she asked.
“No,” you laughed, no matter how much you wished you could, “we should go slow. I mean, what are your plans tonight?”
“Drinking wine until I don’t feel embarrassed that I turned down a proposal in front of Jalen Hurts,” she replied.
“Exactly,” you said, giving her an indulgent smile even as your heart raced.
She chuckled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, taking another step back from you. Your teeth sunk into your lip, swollen from her kisses, as you considered her.
“You might be onto something,” she said.
“But maybe, when the embarrassment has dimmed a bit, we can go out,” you said.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said.
“Great, well…” A smile was taking over your face, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I suppose you will,” she said.
Watching her back out of the room, all you wanted to do was reach out and pull her back to you. She paused in the doorway before she strode back to you, both hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so thoroughly you lost any train of thought you might have been having. Nodding to herself, she turned her back on you, striding out. You watched her, dumbstruck, wondering how you’d somehow managed to get so lucky.
From the absolute travesty of seeing Gary propose to her to ending with the promise of a date and the taste of her still on your lips. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky.
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Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)
Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).
Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on.
A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge!
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini
Word Count: 5.6k
MASTERLIST
It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.
This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).
The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…
Except for me. I stayed inside.
I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.
Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.
I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.
“Are you still hiding in here?”
I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.
“No!”
I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.
“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.
When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”
To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.
“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.
Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.
From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.
As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”
Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.
I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.
“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.
“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”
“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.��
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”
When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.
“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.
Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.
I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.
My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.
The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.
“And what?” she said.
“What?”
“… You stopped talking.”
“I did?”
She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.
“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.
“Yes,” I lied.
I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.
“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”
All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.
“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”
“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.
“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.
I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.
Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.
“So, will you help me?” she asked.
“With what?”
She scoffed, then laughed.
“… the sunscreen? Duh.”
Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.
“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”
“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.
Didn’t seem to matter which.
I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.
“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”
“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.
And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.
“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”
She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”
When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.
My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.
That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.
Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.
At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.
Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.
With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.
“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.
To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”
I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.
(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)
And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.
“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.
I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.
“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”
“Did you already apply yours?”
“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.
I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.
“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”
“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”
“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”
“Oh… um, okay.”
I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.
I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.
The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.
“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.
I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.
I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.
I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.
“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”
“What?”
She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.
“What?” I asked again.
She held up a single finger in reply.
I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.
Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.
“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.
Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.
“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”
I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.
“Wha—?”
Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.
And by that, I mean she kissed me.
With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.
Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.
“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”
For what? I wanted to ask.
But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.
I spent the next several hours outside.
The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.
But they also knew I liked her.
It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.
(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.
Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.
It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.
She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.
I’m definitely losing it.
That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.
Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.
The blood was gone again. I was doomed.
“You’re still hiding, huh?”
I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.
“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.
I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.
“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.
I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.
“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”
She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.
“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.
I panicked.
“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”
She sighed.
At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.
Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.
She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.
“You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”
My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.
“I can accept that.”
She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.
“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.
Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.
“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”
“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”
“I see,” she laughed.
Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.
“Will you help me with that?”
Not clear enough for me, though.
“What?” I asked.
“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.
“Uh—.”
Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.
“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”
That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.
“Come on, pretty boy.”
I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.
Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.
I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.
That time, I was prepared.
My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.
She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.
Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.
Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.
“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”
Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.
“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”
Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.
“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.
I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.
“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.
“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.
That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.
“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.
Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”
I was almost relieved. Almost.
“Yeah, and…”
Then she started taking off my pants.
“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.
Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.
She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.
“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”
“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”
Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.
Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.
My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.
“We can shower after, then.”
“Thank you god,” I cried.
Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.
Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.
She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.
Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.
Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.
As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”
She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.
“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.
“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”
But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs.
At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.
“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.
Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.
She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.
“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”
That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.
I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.
Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.
All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”
She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.
I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.
“Good girl,” I assured her.
But I wasn’t finished yet.
“Now turn around.”
She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.
My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.
Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.
When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.
It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.
My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.
“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.
“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”
The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.
I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.
“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”
“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.
Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.
“That’s it…” I sighed.
Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.
“You can take it,” I assured her.
She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.
“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”
But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.
“Spencer,” she whimpered.
Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.
I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.
That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.
With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.
“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.
I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.
But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.
“Harder,” she cried out.
And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.
The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw.
Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”
Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.
She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.
“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.
But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.
Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.
“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”
That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.
“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.
The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.
I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.
“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.
I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”
It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she laughed.
The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.
My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.
I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.
My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.
(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.
“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”
Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.
I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.
When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.
In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.
“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.
“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”
“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.
“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”
She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.
“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.
And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.
“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.
She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.
With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have.
Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien
Thanks for reading!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut#spencer reid self insert#imaginingafterdark
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so i read somewhere that sometimes a better response to someone struggling with depression is warmth, rather than positivity and i was thinking if you’d be interested in writing a bau!reader x spencer pre-relationship or established relationship whichever u prefer!! where he comforts a depressed reader having a rougher couple of days & is very gentle and understanding and warm towards her 💘
Thank you for requesting lovely <3
cw: depression
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 638 words
You’ve been completely useless through this whole case. You’d sat with the team during various briefings, gone along to view crime scenes and question witnesses, but your brain just wasn’t working hard enough to put anything together. Lately, the effort of cranking the gears is too much.
You’re considering leaving the rest of your paperwork for another day. You want to not be here so badly. You want your bed. You want to stop being a burden to the team that’s been carrying your dead weight for the past couple of days (and giving you increasingly inquisitive looks throughout that time), and to go home and sleep the weekend away.
It’s a testament to your fatigue that you smell the coffee before you hear Spencer approaching. Morgan would hand you your ass if he knew.
“Thanks,” you say, making an effort to smile at Spencer as he sets the plain ceramic mug on your desk. The coffee inside is barely brown, letting you know that he’s already loaded it down with cream and sugar the way you like.
“Seems like you might have a long night.” He leans back against your desk and braces his hands on either side of his hips, nodding towards your paperwork.
You shrug. “I don’t know, I’m thinking of leaving it for Monday. Strauss doesn’t need my report that badly.”
Spencer nods again. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah.” You blow gently on your coffee, wishing the aroma brought you the same sense of contentment it usually does. “Why?”
“You never let your paperwork sit overnight,” he says. “And you’re not eating as much, having trouble concentrating, looking tired all the time…” Spencer pauses, meeting your eyes. It’s an effort not to drop your gaze. He sounds like he’s been adding things up for a while. “Do you need anything?”
You smile again. It feels better this time, more genuine. “I’m just having a tough couple of days,” you tell him. “It happens to me sometimes, it’ll pass. But thank you.”
Spencer’s face smooths out and pinches all at once. For a profiler, he’s shockingly horrible at controlling his expressions. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to around your team. You read him plain as text: relief at having an identified problem, distress at the lack of an easy solution.
You know he means well, but you can’t stick around to bear the weight of any more disappointment.
“I think I’m going to head out,” you do your best to sound calm, reassuring, as you gather your bag from beneath your desk. “See you Monday, Spence.”
“Wait.” You pause, but then Spencer’s falling into step beside you, grabbing his bag to follow you to the exit. “Do you want to come over?”
You look at him, surprised. “To your place?”
He nods. “Yeah, there’s a marathon of the Jurassic Park movies on tonight. We could watch them and order pizza, or whatever you want.”
A little laugh startles out of you. The sensation feels odd and atavistic, like a bubble popping in your chest. “You like Jurassic Park?”
“I like talking about how unfeasible it is,” Spencer says, pressing the button on the elevator. “Did you know velociraptors were about the size of a large bird?”
“...I did not.”
“Probably because you watched Jurassic Park.” He smiles, and you can’t help but copy him. “Really, I’m not attached to the idea of watching them. We can do whatever you want.”
The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth, but Spencer glances down and you release it. “I’m not sure I can pass up the opportunity to witness that much berating,” you say. “How many are there?”
“Six, not including two short films or the animated series.”
“Will you hold it against me if I fall asleep?”
“Not at all.”
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom
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There had always been a goblin and an orc at the sides of the Overlord.
Once upon a time, it probably had a symbolic meaning. Over the centuries it had dwindled to a way for orcs to offload embarrassing family members, while goblins sent prisoners who probably wouldn't bite too much.
At the sides of the Overlord, they were decorative and invisible.
The only one who saw them was the magician.
At first, she had thought of them as a convenient way to have a pair of eyes and ears in the Overlord's presence at all times. Then one day, after the Overlord had ordered his whole chamber out while he ruminated, there had been a very convenient death.
Then she planned on blackmailing them.
It was a delicious thought. In the dead of night she slunk through the castle halls with the deliberate slowness of a spider enjoying every tantalizing wriggle of a panicking fly.
She got to the iron doors of the Overlord's chamber and was about to spring the trap when she heard the orc say, "How is this bloody country still running?!"
The goblin said, "Look, it's not that important, we have to go."
"Look at this." There was a rustle of paper. "They've been paying the giants thousands of gold pieces a year for them to make war machines that they haven't been making!"
"So what?"
"So, if instead of paying them, we took that money-" There was furious scribbling. "And put it in an interest-earning savings account... for twelve months..."
Paper was slid across a table.
There was a long pause.
"Huh," said the goblin.
"That's," said the orc. "Roads. Bridges. Actual infrastructure in the empire. We could really do something here!"
"We were going to!" said the goblin. "We were going to get out of here!"
"Look. I'm good at numbers. You're good at words. We can run tomorrow, but we have a once in a lifetime chance here."
There was a longer pause.
"Okay," said the goblin. "Okay. But as soon as someone even thinks they've found us out-"
"Oh, the second that happens, we're gone."
"Good. All right. How many roads?"
The magician blinked.
Huh, she thought.
It's not a good look to slink where you've just slunk. She slunk nevertheless in a thoughtful mood.
---
The next day, she brought a long scroll to the attention of the Overlord.
Other members of the chamber had learned to recognize it by sight. They groaned and braced for the inevitable.
She pointedly ignored them. "A thousand apologies, O Master Of Midnight And Bane Of The Dawn," she said. "But I felt I must once again bring this proposal to your attention."
She put the scroll into the Overlord's huge, gauntleted hands. "It is, of course, my proposal for infrastructure reforms within the Empire," she said. "A nation as mighty as thine must have roads, my lord."
The Overlord looked at her. The Overlord read it. The magician winced as the goblin obviously craned to read it as well, lips moving silently.
The Overlord looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the Overlord.
The Overlord waved a hand. The goblin bowed. "His Magnificent Presence, The Overlord, Accepts Your Proposal," she recited. "By The Will Of The Overlord, May This Work Be Done, And May You Continue To Make Such Useful Contributions To Your Empire."
Yeah, don't lay it on too thick, the magician thought.
---
The next week, around a corner where she thought nobody could see her, the orc pulled off the Overlord's helmet, shaking out long coils of dark hair that curled and tangled against the breastplate of the armor.
The magician stared.
Huh, she thought, more emphatically this time.
---
The next month, the duke came to her and said it was obvious that the Overlord had been replaced by an imposter.
She let him rave for a few minutes about the affront to the dignity of the Empire, sighed, stood, thanked him for bringing it to her attention, and waved a hand. There was a rush of air, a wooden clatter, and then a sad little mechanical squeaking noise as her new office chair swiveled where the duke had stood.
#short story#fantasy writing#narrativia#a short snacky pseudo sequel because i thought about the magician for too long#it’s not as ha ha funny but i wanted to get my thoughts out
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. • TRUTH OR DARE
BILL KAULITZ X READER
summary: being the opening act for tokio hotel entails a lot of alcohol and a lot of bad decisions.
warnings: alcohol, all your basic smut features
a/n: HELLO ALL !! this is my first time writing in over a year so this is a bit shabby, but we’re all in our kaulitz twins phase atm so worth it <3 feel free to send me prompts, i’ll write a lil drabble
. • . • .
Somehow, every night after touring ended up like this.
You, the opening act for tokio hotel, and the rest of the band sat round with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, playing the most stupid drinking games imaginable.
“Let’s play truth or dare.” You suggested, leaning back into the plush seats of the luxury hotel room. Playing Gustav’s card games had led to one two many arguments; mainly between the oh so competitive Bill and Tom.
“What about truth or drink? Or dare or drink? Truth or dare or drink even!” Bill chimed in, manicured hands reaching eagerly for the bottle of vodka set out in front of him.
Looking around, everyone nodded in agreement at the suggestion. Bill continued.
“Alright then, Gustav, truth or dare?”
The boy in question sighed, taking a large swig of his beer before answering. “Truth.”
“Is it true you’ve only slept with two fans this whole tour?”
You couldn’t help but giggle at Bill’s invasive question. Tom had girls in every night- you could hear them through the walls which was a massive pain and pretty gross- but as far as you knew Gustav wasn’t as interested in the groupies.
“Yeah, only two.” The drummer replied, causing an uproar of laughter from the rest of the band. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at their childish antics.
As the game continued, the alcohol started diminishing. Tom had gone streaking down the hallway, Georg had been ding-dong ditching and all of you were completely wasted.
Finally, it had come to your turn.
“Okay… our favourite girl, truth or dare?” Tom asked, staring you down as if to challenge you. You leaned forwards, answering with a simple “Dare.”
Seeing as it was Tom asking, this probably wasn’t the best decision; he had a devious look in his eyes that made you instantly regret your decision.
“I dare you…” He started, spinning his lip piercing in thought as everyone waited intently. “To take a piece of clothing off every time someone drinks.” The dreadlocked boy finished, smirking proudly at his dare. Bill clapped in glee until you sent him a teasing glare. Before you could even respond, both twins had taken a large sip of their drinks.
“That’s not fair!” You exclaimed, pointing accusingly at the two, “Surely it’s only one item if you both drink at once!” Your complaints were ignored, met only with a chant of ‘take it off! take it off!’. Looking down at what you were wearing, you cursed yourself for having already removed your shoes. Thinking for a moment, you removed one of the necklaces hanging round your neck, Bill uttering a sound of protest.
“That doesn’t count as clothes, love.”
“You’re all pervs.” You teased, slowly starting to unbutton and unzip your jeans instead. Tom let out a wolf whistle as you slid the material down your legs, revealing the skimpy piece of black lace you’d thrown on this morning before knowing you’d be on display. Jeans were the safest option to remove seeing as you’d gone braless under your shirt. Now stood in your (barely there) underwear in front of a group of staring boys, it was time for some revenge.
“Bill, truth or dare?” You spoke, eyeing up the handsome singer. “My eyes are up here by the way.”
Bill slowly moved his eyes from the soft skin of your thighs and stomach up to your waiting eyes. God, they were all shameless.
“Dare.”
“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.” You smirked, shameless yourself thanks to the ungodly amounts of alcohol you’d consumed in the last hour. You leaned slightly against the wall behind you, eyes narrowed expectantly at he gazed at you in surprise.
Jumping to his feet, Bill practically fell over himself rushing up to you, grabbing you by the hips before smothering his lips over yours. The kiss was wet, and you could taste the vodka on his breath as he pushed his tongue into your mouth eagerly. His fingers, nails painted black, gripped your hips and waist firmly as you pulled at his loose and for once not styled black hair. A moment later you were pulling apart, pupils dilated and gasping for breath.
“Well that’s just not fair.”
Glancing over, you fought back a laugh at the jealous expression painted across Tom’s features. His eyebrows were furrowed, arms crossed over his chest. He’d been watching.
It was a bit of an unspoken rule that you didn’t get with any of the boys; if anyone caught you, their opening act, in an intimate position with a band member, you’d both be in big trouble from management.
“Where’s my kiss, baby?” He continued, pouting and leaning towards you for a kiss. You threw a pillow at him, causing Georg and Gustav to fall over laughing. Bill still seemed shell shocked and followed you over to the sofa like a lost puppy.
“Shit, it’s almost 2am. We should probably get some sleep.” Georg spoke, checking his watch. There was a lot of travelling to be done the next day. Gustav nodded in agreement, standing up and starting to grab his things. The two more sensible boys headed out, not without a quip of “don’t have too much fun without us!”
You turned to Tom, and he threw the pillow right back at you. “Get out of my room lovebirds.” He snickered, laughing at Bill’s pink flush. You smiled and pinched his cheek, causing him to slap your hand away playfully.
“Come on, Billy.”
Bill grabbed your hand, pulling you through the door and into the hallway. Once the door was shut, he pushed you roughly against the wall, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.
“You’re such a tease, you know that?” He spoke lowly, his brown eyes darkening as he trailed his thumb from your cheek to your lower lip, slipping it inside your mouth. Surprised at his boldness, you sucked softly on his finger, the cold metal of the rings he had on sending shockwaves right through you. He shuddered, withdrawing his finger after a few seconds and dragging you across the hall to his room. You suddenly felt all too conscious of your lack of clothing, your jeans still lying somewhere on Tom’s floor.
Once the door was shut, Bill’s lips were against yours once more, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours as the kiss grew heated and his hands began to roam across your flushed skin. Barely separating as the two of you stumbled over to his bed, you pushed aside any thoughts of possible consequences and focused on his mouth. Your legs opened automatically as he climbed on top of you, his tongue exploring the delicate skin of your neck as a breathy moan left your lips.
“Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered, hands pulling at the fabric of your shirt.
“I don’t care.” You whined in response, letting him pull the fabric off of your body, revealing you to him.
His soft brown eyes gazed at your exposed skin, painted fingernails trailing soft lines across your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You pawed at his belt, Bill moving back slightly so you could undo the buckle with shaking hands. Pulling his shirt off, the singers lips attached to yours once again as he trailed his hands to the hem of your underwear.
He dipped one finger below the lacey fabric, smirking as you to pushed your hips into his hands desperately. Hearing your whimper of ‘please’, he finally pushed your underwear to the side, thumb pressing directly against your sensitive nub. You whined as he began drawing small circles, wetness seeping from you as your head fell back against the pillows. Without warning, Bill slid a finger inside your slick walls, drawing out a moan that made him grin. “Shh, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear you do we?” He cooed, adding a second finger and picking up speed as you tried to keep quiet. You could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as he curled them upwards, causing you to call out his name desperately.
Feeling pleasure build up inside you, you reached to palm him through his jeans, causing his motions to stutter. You whined as he pulled away, but watched on as he began to pull off the only layers separating you from what you really wanted. Eyes wide, you gazed as he pulled down his boxers, cock springing free and hitting his stomach. It was long, oozing precum and you couldn’t help but reach to grab it, slowly stroking his member as his eyes screwed shut in content.
“Please, Bill.” You begged, wrapping your arms round his neck to pull him closer, gasping slightly as you felt his cock press against the opening of your heat. For a moment, you both pause as desire permeates the air in the hotel room.
Pulling back for a split second, Bill pushes the head of his cock into your entrance, groaning at the feeling of the hot velvet surrounding him. Pushing forward further, you cry out as he buries his cock all the way in, legs shaking around his hips as he brushes your most sensitive spots. Withdrawing slightly, he suddenly bullies his cock back inside, picking up a pace that leaves you breathless and writhing.
“God you feel so good.” He groans, one hand gripping your hip as the other moves to your clit, adding a new dimension to the pleasure taking over your body.
Bill’s hips stutter, his grunts and moans becoming more frequent.
“Inside.” You manage to get out, lips parted and brows furrowed as you near your orgasm.
He falters at your words, spilling inside of you as his head falls to your shoulder. A loud moan spills from your lips as the combined feeling of his fingers and being filled so deeply push you over the edge, orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami.
A solid five minutes pass, the two of you still curled up against each other before he finally pulls out, cum dripping against the inside of your thighs.
“Sorry.” He grins, pulling you against his bare chest and burying his face in your hair. You flush pink, this somehow feeling much more intimate than hooking up itself.
“No you’re not.” You giggle, cozying into him and ignoring the consequences of the morning.
“No i’m not.”
#tokio hotel#bill kaulitz#tom kaulitz#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz smut#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel smut#kaulitz twins#kaulitz twins x reader#kaulitz twins smut
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