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hanalwayssolo · 2 years

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I've scoured your page for your ocs so I have two. Please, all the questions for Briony and Javier?

I’m sorry if this took so long anon but all questions???? I am absolutely happy to serve! 🫡

Placing this under the cut because I got carried away with the idea of Briony and Javier meeting through a virtual chat and getting to have a conversation.

OC interview questions

1 Who makes up your family? How close are you to them?

Briony: So there's Cor, and he’s my dad. Not by blood, though.

B: Then my mom. Her name's Candela. Again, not by blood.

B: Never met my real parents. According to my mom they gave me up because my real dad didn’t want a girl as a first born. So...

Javier: so i think--and pardon me for saying this--but your real parents should rot in hell.

B: LMAO thank you for standing in solidarity with me. 🥺

B: Anyway! There's also my ten-year-old daughter, Ellie.

B: I could I say I'm close to all of them, and I love them all very much. 💖

B: So yeah. That's pretty much it for me. How about you, sir?

J: well no need to address me as sir, ‘javi’ is just fine, your majesty.

B: Please, I’d also appreciate if you’d just call me Briony. 🥲

J: alright then :)

J: ok so i have a younger brother. his name is carlos. not sure if we’re close. he can be annoying and i know i can be annoying to him. or worse.

J: then darcy, my ex-wife. my bonita and scout, darcy’s kids from a previous relationship whom i both treat as if they were my own flesh and blood. greta, emma, leticia. i know it sounds strange and i won’t go deep into our affairs but all i can say is that even after all my shortcomings, they were still very generous enough to give me another chance. so i’m grateful for our blended family.

J: as for my parents, well. mi padre--i mean my dad, our relationship was not exactly a good one. it’s more of like a professional relationship. he was only el jefe to us. nothing more.

J: my mamá, however, was the best of us. but my dad didn’t really treat her well so she ended up leaving.

B: Oh gods, I’m so sorry.

J: don’t be. my dad should be the one apologizing.

B: This is probably the reason why they put us together here. We both have issues with our real parents.

J: jajajaja looks like it.

2. Who is your best friend? Tell us about them!

B: My best friend is my husband, and his name is Gladio. He looks absolutely mean and threatening because he’s 6′6″ but he’s just about the kindest and sweetest fella I’ve ever met.

B: How about you, Javi?

J: not to put a damper on things but i don’t have one. a best friend, that is.

B: You can’t be serious? But you seem so amiable.

J: you are far too kind to me, briony. :)

B: Surely you had one before?

J: well...

J: my ex-wife. i guess she was my best friend. we’re still friends now but our relationship is not like the one we had before.

B: Oh. I see.

B: Okay then, I won’t probe further. And I apologize for even broaching the subject.

J: it’s alright, don’t worry about it.

3. What is your favorite childhood memory?

J: so my mamá is a costume designer and she often took my brother and i to the local theatre to watch musicals and shakespearean plays. we would hang out backstage and we’d help out with everyone’s costumes. i love those days.

B: Your mother sounds like a lovely woman. 💖

B: Which reminds me, when I was a kid, Mom would also take me to theatres and we’d watch all these plays, and we were always so fascinated with the music. Especially the costumes! The masks, the props, the entire production. And whenever we get home, she’d sit at the edge of my bed and we’d talk about it all night.

B: Thinking about it all makes me miss my childhood so much.

4. What is your least favorite childhood memory?

B: Now this is the question that makes me not miss my childhood at all LMAO

J: my sentiments exactly.

J: ladies first? jajaja

B: Fine.

B: When I was ten, my hometown was invaded by the Empire. I watched as one of their generals killed our queen in front of her children, my childhood friends. I was separated from my Mom for a long time because of it. That’s when Cor found me and took me in.

B: I think that changed me.

B: Sorry, no—it really did change me. Made me really angry at the Empire. For a time, all I wanted was to hunt down every single Imperial soldier who killed my friends, who destroyed my home.

B: But at this point… I’m not so sure anymore. And I’m just tired of being angry, of being so lost.

J: it’s strange. your experience somehow reminds me of my own.

B: Really? How so?

J: my father runs a cartel for a living. one day a rival cartel broke into our house and beat the living daylights out of us. my mother included. i was 8, my brother was 5.

J: my father changed after that. i wasn’t surprised that he would want revenge; he has always been prideful, self-assured. but that incident… something about it made him ruthless. the way he treated my mother changed. he also changed how he treated my brother and i, most of all. he wanted us to be stronger, demanded us to do better. he even punished us for being weak.

J: about what you said about being angry for a time, he was angry for the rest of his life. he certainly made good of his promise that he would make the rival cartel pay, and pay they did with their life. i remember him bringing my brother and i to their hideout and showed us the bodies. everything was drenched in blood. when my brother started crying, my father forced him to look and said, “this is what i am willing to do for our family. i want you to stare at it. i don’t ever want you to cower in fear over this kind of violence, do you understand?”

J: so i guess long story short: my brother and i, we somehow inherited that anger. and we’re still paying the price.

J: and i know i’m the last person you’d want to hear this from, briony, considering i’m but a stranger to you… but i hope you don’t let your anger consume you. as someone who has ruined a lot of good things in my life: anger is poison. nothing good ever comes out of it.

5. What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

J: ay dios mío, finally an easier question to answer.

B: LMAOOO IKR

B: I’ll let you go first!

J: my most favourite thing to do in my free time is to cook, make wine, and to also spend time with scout and bonita.

J: how about you?

B: I love reading books and watching movies with my daughter. She’s also been very keen recently in making costumes ever since we started going to our community theatre so I reckon she and your mom would definitely get along.

J: oh for sure. :) scout enjoys hanging out in old bookstores and i can see you and him getting along, too.

B: I would certainly love to meet him! 💖 I have a good friend who tends to a humble little book shop in my city. He’d probably have a swell time there.

6. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

B: Why are these questions like a rollercoaster ride????? LMAO

B: The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is to answer all of these. And we’re not even halfway there yet!

J: likewise jajaja

J: but kidding aside though, what is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

B: Hmmmmm. I’d say having to raise Ellie on my own in my early twenties. I didn’t know better at the time, and even though I’m thankful that I managed to get the support I need from Cor and my friends, it was still tough having a kid during a very tough time.

J: once again, you remind me of someone i know.

B: Really? Please do elaborate, if you don’t mind.

J: not at all. darcy had scout and bonita when she was in her twenties, too. i saw firsthand how difficult it had been for her—physically, emotionally, mentally. it took a toll on her once. bonita was at the peak of her tantrums and darcy screamed at her, too, telling her, “you think your life’s hard? you’re just a bloody baby! you don’t have the right to cry!”

B: Okay, I know how stressful that situation is because I have to admit, I had a similar experience with Ellie when she was a baby. I was so stressed at work and so I cried with her when she started throwing a tantrum.

B: Being a mother is hard work. My heart goes out to Darcy, truly.

B: But honestly whenever I think about that time now, I just find it hilarious. There I was, unable to afford therapy, so I was having a breakdown with my baby LMAO

B: I do hope Darcy finds that time as something she could laugh about now.

J: oh she does. she’s very transparent to the twins and she’s shared with them her lowest moments as their mum often as a light-hearted anecdote.

J: but i have to say—despite that, all darcy’s self-deprecating jokes aside, scout and bonita are very much understanding of their mum’s circumstances, which only goes to show how she has beautifully raised the twins. bonita is especially well aware that she can be a pain in the ass and that she’s glad her mum just cried with her even when she was a baby if it meant having to get a proper scolding without her understanding a single word.

B: So… would you count that as the hardest thing you ever had to do? Raising the kids together?

J: not really, no. i mean raising the twins was hard but it’s the kind of hard that feels so easy? i hope that makes sense.

B: Yup, it does. I get it. I felt the same way with Ellie.

J: so yeah. i suppose having to leave them that is the hardest.

B: How so?

J: because i ended up hurting them.

B: Can I ask you something?

J: sure, go ahead.

B: You still love her, don’t you?

J: yes. i suppose you can say that the other hardest thing i had to do is how to stop loving her.

J: clearly i’m not very good as it.

7. Who do you look up to?

B: My Mom and Cor, for sure.

J: i’m not sure…

B: Do you mind if I take a wild guess?

J: sure, go shoot your shot.

B: You look up to Darcy. What you’re not sure about is whether to share that information or not.

J: i’m starting to hate how astute you are, Your Majesty.

B: HAHAHAHA

B: Why thank you very much. 🥰

8. What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

B: Javi and I both agree that our answer here is the same as the one we gave in #4 LMAO

9. Are you a spiritual person? If yes, what do you practice?

J: i was raised a catholic but now i really don’t practice anything.

B: As for me, I was certainly raised to practice not giving a fuck about the gods.

10. Where were you born? Where did you grow up? Where do you live now?

B: Born and raised partly in Tenebrae and currently living here once more. The rest of my childhood was spent between Leide and Insomnia.

J: born and spent most of my childhood in la paz, bolivia until my family and i were moving between one south american city after another in my teens. now i live in kent.

11. What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)? Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

B: Books all the way. And Pablo Neruda has a special place in my heart.

J: it would be movies for me. i am particularly fond of historical drama and war films and my current favourite would be the one scout recommended that i watch, which was the pianist.

12. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (on vacation or permanently!)

B: I’m actually interested to go and see where you live, Javi.

J: i could say the same with you.

B: I guess we could exchange cities for a while for a vacation, no?

J: a wonderful idea. you can run my winery and i would…?

B: attend meetings with my advisors, hold court for tenebraeans needing counsel, and help my husband train my queensguard.

J: great. i think i’ll just stick to my winery then.

B: LMAO

13. You’re given an unlimited budget to build anything you want! What do you build and where do you build it?

B: Rebuild the cities destroyed by the Empire, restore Tenebrae’s historical sights, improve the transport system, create more creative spaces for young people, among many other things.

J: i don’t think i could follow from that excellent response but all i could think of is the same thing but i’ll do it in la paz. fix everything that the cartels have destroyed.

14. What are your favorite music genres?

B: Indie rock and pop and classical.

J: Jazz. And classical, too.

15. Do you play any instruments? Which ones? How long have you been playing?

B: Unfortunately I can’t play shit for the life of me LMAO

B: Javi?

J: i’m strangely proud to admit that i do know how to play the guitar. my mother taught me when i was very young and it’s how we spent most of our time together: me playing her favourite songs while she sings along.

16. Describe your perfect day.

B: Breakfast with Gladio and Ellie, a quiet time in the library, a nice swim down at Zoldara Lake, and a day without me having to go about any royal duties. All four would in one day would be absolutely perfect.

J: A good cup of coffee, a walk down the vineyard, drive around town, getting some time with the twins.

17. What makes you laugh?

B: Ellie’s actually pretty funny and witty so she’s the one who makes me laugh the most.

J: bonita made me watch these silly videos of cats from this social media platform and i hate to even admit this but those are funny.

B: I didn’t peg you as someone who would enjoy cat videos. Color me surprised.

18. What’s the best way to cheer you up?

B: A good glass of wine should do the trick.

J: funny you should mention that because wine also cheers me up and i happen to have a winery.

B: Yes that’s me saying I would appreciate a bottle every now and then. As a treat.

19. What makes you sad?

J: can we skip this one?

B: Absolutely not.

J: okay then i guess what makes me sad is thinking about the things i’ve done in the past.

J: your turn

B: I’d say… thinking about the time I lost Ellie’s dad.

20. Describe your biggest pet peeve.

B: Idiots.

J: same.

B: Also people who are just deliberately unkind and those who refuse to change.

J: as bonita would say… big samesies

21. Describe your ideal partner.

B: I am very fortunate to have married my ideal partner and best friend.

J: then i guess i’m very much unfortunate that my ideal partner and i have already divorced.

B: Javi, I shit you not, after this interview I will hook you up with someone.

22. What’s the easiest way to flirt with you?

B: Here’s the thing… sometimes I can be completely oblivious with how flirting works. Which drives my husband mad at times because he’ll be doing this extraordinarily sweet thing and it just registers to me as him being awfully nice because there’s a special occasion LMAO

J: now that’s a relief to hear

B: LOL why!!

J: i just realized that i’m not as awkward as i think i am jajaja

B: HAHAHAH

J: to be perfectly honest, i can quickly get on with it through text or anything in the written form, which is probably the easiest way that anyone could flirt with me. but if it’s done in person, i do have the awful tendency to be oblivious. i have a number of people who have pointed this out, my brother most especially.

B: Now I’m curious to know: how did you and Darcy even started dating when you’re this awkward little duck? Like how did you even flirt with her?

J: texting was still not a thing at that time so i wrote her letters and poems.

B: Are you serious?? you say you’re awkward at flirting when you WROTE HER POEMS? Get the fuck outta here!!

23. Have you ever had a crush on someone? Do you have a crush now?

B: Um, yes. And not to be an absolute sap but my crush now is my husband?

J: don’t worry, that is completely valid.

24. What would you consider your main love language?

B: I can’t say I only have one main love language; I’m actually inclined on both quality time and acts of service, for sure. I love doing things for the ones I love and whenever I get to spend time with them, and I very much appreciate it when they do the same.

J: i’m a quality time kind of guy, and also physical touch. it is certainly nice to hold someone you love and to be held by them.

B: Goddamn the poet jumped out, good sir! 🤭

#replies #my writing #oc: briony clark #oc: javier bernal #i have thoughts on this conversation. like while i was writing this #it felt a lot like watching two strangers baring out their most personal lives #also #i feel like i made briony and javier play the 'we're not really strangers' game and this is the entire transcript of their conversation 🥹#and javi talking about darcy…….. my god someone punch me in the throat #aaaand briony here is lom-epilogue!briony so. Yeah #won’t elaborate on that not when the fic is in a coma 🥴#but obvs even as queen she really hasn’t changed that much. a royal using LMAO ? ignis would have a stroke #anyway thank u anon for sending this in!!#this was pretty lengthy but i hope this helps you get to know these kids better #what is tumblr if not a place where you can post about your oc hyperfixations and not getting any notes? 🤭

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snekdood · 1 year

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I mean. I do think its weird that some ppl are so eager and willing to switch their old make up out with "cruelty free" make up but then. Not consider doing that with food in any capacity. And its hard not to feel like some ppl have been convicned vegan food is cringe and that since vegans are cringe all around that everything we do and eat is also cringe. Like yall reaaaallly want to divorce animal rights from veganism and thats an impossible task. Vegans will always be part of animal welfare one way or another. Who do you think fights for cruelty free make up in the first place? Ig if you divorce them in your mind you get to pretend the two movements are entirely seperate and you're not like those Loud Cringe Vegans or whatever lmao. Like. Okay cassandra. I kinda have a feeling a good majority of the people involved in pushing cruelty free make up are vegan. Idk why substituting your meat every now and then is so fuckin hard (if you can do it) if not for how ppl react to vegan food as if its cringe. And taste to me isnt a good enough excuse bc theres a lot of vegan food that tastes good. It feels like you just like the taste of something familiar.

#i promise its a lot better than you think it is #is it exactly like meat? no. but meat doesnt have to be the main protien in every fuckin thing #sometimes a nicely crafter veggie patty os enough #crafted*#anyways theres a bunch of vegans in my motes now bc of an old post of mine #so thats why i was thinkin abt this #🙄 and no i dont think theres some way to sus out who can and cant eat meat. i think people know when they can or cant and just wanna lie #to themselves when they can so they can keep eating the tasty tasty meat.#like. you know who you are. i dont need to make you vegan bc clearly you already feel guilty enough to lie to urself 🥴#i dont believe in Legislating Some Way To Detect Who Is And Isnt Vegan Possibly By Evaluating Their Medical History or some crap.#but ik yall gotta assume the worst from vegans so.#like why would i legislate anything. ppl who eat meat and can eat other things tend to feel guilt regardless. i dont have to do shit lol.#its all on you and whether or not you wanna keep feeling that way or if you wanna be an edgy diseffected douchebag whos just. so above #doing anything or caring about the world in any capacity bc no ethical consumption so it doesnt matter what you do or at least #you dont care so you toss your cigarette butss in the woods.#thats always gonna be my go to bc if you ever get to that point then ik that you're just a nihilist tool and i dont want to be around you.#to detect who can and cant be vegan* is a better way to phrase that #like god dude you're so cool and subversive with your combat boots that every other queer leftist has and cigarette butts you dont #care about flicking in every which way. like. ur just so coold dude. so so cool. fer sure #didnt mean cold but you're also cold hearted so thats applicable.#the fact this is a stereotype in the queer community to me should tell you enough about how subversive you think you are.#cant emphasize enough that this isnt about people who cant be vegan bc they biologically need to eat meat or theyre poor #this is about ppl who can go vegan. have the funds. have no health condjtions. knows internally that they can. but chooses not to #in spite of trying to consume ethically in other forms. like some of yall will buy cruelty free make up. buy ethically sourced clothes.#but for some reason when it comes to food you act SO fucking weird about it. its truly hard not to feel like its not bc of the narrative #around vegans. and no! i cant tell who can actually go vegan and is lying and who cant! i dont care about investing that much energy into #controlling other people!! they know when they can and they know when theyre lying to themselves and others! i dont gotta do shit!#idgaf!!!#imma let the guilt about their actions do the work my dude #and to the person reading this going 'i dont feel guilty' im sure the fuck you dont! you edgy totally different person from the rest!!!

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gatheryepens · 3 days

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Love, Rosie actually made me go crazy 🤪

#sitting through an 1hr 42 minutes of that was so hard #like first of all the main guy #Alex is going to Harvard to medicine #but if I remember correctly in the states you can only do medicine post grad #so unless he went to uni at age 15 and got his undergrad that whole plot makes no sense 🥴#but i could be wrong #anyway they had so many opportunities to get together but for some reason the plot pushed them so far a part constantly #that I didn’t want them to end up together #for example #the scene at the airport #him and Rosie are about to kiss #and it’s like clearly you guys have some attraction to one another #like the only hurdle that was there is that he had a girlfriend #but at the same time #let’s be so real he ended up breaking it off with the girlfriend (somehow?)#but they could’ve gotten together some point after #but the whole things was nonsensical and filled with mischances #like I just got bored of them realising their feelings at different times but then the plot continently keeps the apart until the end #apparently in the book it’s goes on until they are both 50 #which is a joke #I was going to read the book but at the same time I don’t think I have the patience #gatherrambles #gatherwatches

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endlessthxxghts · 22 days

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Dr. Miller - Pt 2

Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k

Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.

Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶

A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx

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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow.

This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed.

You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway.

After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily.

Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even.

Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes.

“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed.

“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies.

He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?”

“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”

“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously.

“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”

He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself.

She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk.

He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had.

Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood.

“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs.

“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”

“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now.

Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons.

Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”

Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality.

“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is.

Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss.

“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”

“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”

“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”

Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?”

“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”

Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”

“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains.

“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face.

He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”

Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”

“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”

She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out.

Holy shit.

His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.

Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.

The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles?

Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot.

You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.

“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead.

“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.”

You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains.

“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion.

Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful.

“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you.

You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”

The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged.

“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth.

You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”

He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?”

You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you.

Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed.

The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need.

He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches.

Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine.

You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick.

Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts.

You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger.

Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor.

Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table.

“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention.

He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch.

“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer.

To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.

“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.

“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you.

Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down.

“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him.

This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later.

Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”

That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-

“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly.

“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“I hurt you last time.”

“No you didn’t-”

“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals.

Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow.

“Um-”

“Lift,” he states.

You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.

And it does.

“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action.

He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.

“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says.

“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently.

“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”

How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.

“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation.

“Joel,” he offers.

Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question.

“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”

His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention.

“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”

His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance.

It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other.

His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you.

“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”

“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting.

“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room.

“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture.

“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge.

“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him.

Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight.

Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length.

“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in.

“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest.

He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.

So he does.

He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?

Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for.

“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance.

Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.

Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.

He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.

“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow.

“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word.

Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”

“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”

“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”

You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment.

He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.

“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.

“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward.

“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end.

“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest.

The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips.

“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you.

“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm.

His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into.

“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.

“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”

Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly.

“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you.

Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken.

“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible.

His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”

Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue.

He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.

You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”

“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”

You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk.

Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case.

He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size.

“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest.

All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.

Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle.

“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right.

“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off.

His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say.

“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him.

You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste.

You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in.

You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-

“Dr. Miller?!”

Shit.

NEXT (coming soon) ->

Please let me know what you guys think!!! Your feedback keeps me going, and interacting with everyone literally brings the brightest smile on my face. All my love xoxo

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

590 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 5 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

448 notes · View notes

lecsainz · 4 months

Note

anything with Trevor Zegras I’m begging girl!

˒ ⌕ HOCKEY BOYFRIEND

parings: trevor zegras x hughes!reader

summary: that one where you're jack hughes' twin sister and post about your relationship with trevor on insta.

an: I've been working on this smau for TWO days because tumblr kept deleting everything I wrote when I hit return? I have no idea what was going on.

( last work || go to main masterlist )

private account

liked by yourroommate, your_ex and 108 others

ynhughes I say yes, obviously 🙄

56 comments

trevorzegras fuck , I'm so in love with you.

yourbestie wait WHATS THAT??!??

⤷ ynhughes u already know luv

⤷ yourcollegebestie you didn't tell us, you sneaky!

⤷ ynhughes I did tell you! I called you seconds after we had our first kiss.

⤷ jackhughes WHAT?

⤷ lhughes_06 It's been a while, jack, relax.

⤷ jackhughes how did you know and I didn't??? I'm her twin!

⤷ lhughes_06 I'm the favorite brother 🤩.

⤷ ynhughes actually, it's quinn.

⤷_quinnhughes I KNEW IT.

trevorzegras OMG, you're my girl.

⤷ ynhughes and you're my hockey player.

⤷ jackhughes stop with this sweetness. ynhughes stop being bitter, jack.

jackhughes can’t believe that u aren’t single anymore.

⤷_quinnhughes me too.

⤷ lhughes_06 same.

⤷ ynhughes you guys are jealous 😤

yourcollegebestie your ex liking the post 😅

⤷ yourbestie lol 😂

⤷ ynhughes going to block him now, I forgot about him 🥴

⤷ yourbestie he's going to want to fight trevor.

⤷ yourcollegebestie he's calling the UMICH football team to help.

⤷ yourbestie 'cause no UMICH guy can date you now that you were my exgirlfriend.'

⤷ lhughes_06 that guy was a suck, I warned you.

⤷ ynhughes well, that's why he's an ex.

edwards.73 now it all makes sense why she didn't want to hang out with us anymore, ditching friends and parties for a MAN.

⤷ markestapa what a letdown y/n/n 🤧

⤷ ynhughes he's not just any man, he's MY MAN.

⤷ lhughes_06 what do you mean you guys hang out without me and with my sister?

⤷ lucca.fantilli she's cooler than you.

⤷ lhughes_06 NO SHE AREN’T.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty yes, she is!

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ynhughes weekend at the lake house with the ice boys.

67 comments

rutgermcgroarty jack having more photos than her boyfriend 🤣.

⤷ ynhughes he's the favorite brother of the week.

⤷ lhughes_06 u said that I was.

⤷ ynhughes that was before you ate all of my chocolate stash.

yourbestie and no photos for us to make memes of them?

⤷ ynhughes unfortunately, none.

trevorzegras 7 million smiles, and yours is my favorite.

⤷ ynhughes I love you, ice man 🩵

jackhughes I want a credit for the photo I took.

⤷ ynhughes I want credit for all the non-hockey photos you post then 😙

yourbestie miss you girls 🤧

⤷ yourcollegebestie you should have come too 🥺

⤷ ynhughes let's go out just us next summer 💃💃💃

markestapa you don't post a picture with us.

⤷_quinnhughes we're more important 😎

edwards.73 are you holding a hamster?

⤷ ynhughes yessss, his name was mr. bernard.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty aww, how cute.

⤷ lhughes_06 what an ugly name.

⤷ jackhughes ugly guy is you, not the mr. bernard

⤷ ynhughes and that's why my favorite brother is jack, not you, luke.

⤷ jackhughes thanks sis love you too, y/n/n.

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ynhughes missing hawaii and my boy who's now all about hockey. why did I start dating a hockey player anyway?

82 comments

trevorzegras cause you love me.

yourroommate still can't believe you guys traveled in secret.

jackhughes stop kissing my twin sister.

⤷ trevorzegras sorry, jack, but NO.

_quinnhughes mom sends kisses and asks how's college.

⤷ ynhughes sent a thousand back to her and tell her that college is amazing (I cry every night 😅

yourbestie how is it possible you don't look bad in ANY photo??

⤷ ynhughes LOOK WHO'S TALKING, I've never seen a bad shot of you.

lhughes_06 stop making me feel alone 😭

trevorzegras missing those vacations too

⤷ ynhughes i missing you more 😕

yourcollegebestie stop stalling and let's go out now, we're already late for the party, pretty!

⤷ ynhughes putting on my heels now!

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thehughesgirl at least he plays against my brothers, but that's the least of it.

comments were limited

trevorzegras you are art, you are the stars and the sky, you are everything.

⤷ thehughesgirl I’m so in love with you.

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weebsinstash · 4 days

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I'm sorry but I'm going insane for your idea of Lilith and Luci getting a sinner pregnant together can we please have more of your thoughts on this idea 🙏

Absolutely because I'm a dirty little heathen and Season 2 isn't just about to magically pop up out of the ground and I've had SOME THOUGHTS and also this post is way longer than it should be 💀

I was sitting and I was thinking of the concept of the Hotel having communal breakfasts or having at least one day of the week where there's food served and everyone (typically) eats together, not only as a bonding/unity sort of thing but also simular to how real hotels can have complimentary breakfast as part of your stay, and like, yeesh this is actually an entirely separate fic idea in of itself but you're talking with Alastor and you're saying something along the lines of "oh yeah, well, I was actually starting to think a lot about motherhood before I died, but, raising children is so complicated, not to mention society right now is so genuinely hostile and dangerous to children, and i wouldn't have been able to afford it anyways, and, well, you know, NOW i literally can't have them down here"

AND FROM THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE END OF THE TABLE

COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED

HERE'S LILITH, "Oh! It wouldn't be impossible at all! You and Lucifer could still have a baby :)"

RECORD SCRATCH SOUND EFFECT AS EVERYONE LOOKS TO THE QUEEN OF HELL. She seems completely unbothered while her husband is A TOMATO, he can barely even look in your direction, he's just tugging on her sleeve, "L-Lili, cmon, don't say things like that 😳🥴" and awkwardly laughing, maybe even asking to speak to his wife in private (I feel like its a regular occurrence for these two to dip out of a room and reappear and Lilith is reapplying her lipstick as she re-enters followed by a kiss covered Lucifer lmao)

Can you even imagine going to Charlie, "hey um, this is awkward, your mom keeps like. Jesus please don't kill me I'm not a homewrecker but your mom keeps making comments about me having a baby with your dad and she sounds completely serious about it and shes been bringing it up for like two weeks" and you could not be saying this in a more obvious "hey girl this is weird and I don't like it, can you chat with your parents for me to stop this" kind of way BUT, the actual way Charlie is responding ALSO THROWS YOU OFF. I can see it already, Charlie all but LIGHTS UP WITH EXCITEMENT and she, takes a breath, "oh!! I mean!! You don't have to do anything you don't want to obviously, bbBUT UH THAT BEING SAID oh gosh that sounds like it would make you really happy, aaaaand and I know you wanted a family of your own and, hey isn't this place about new beginnings and" GIRL WE AREN'T HAVING A BABY WITH YOUR DAD TF?

You know how I made that post "hey Lucifer kind of appears to have these vague Master Of All type powers down in Hell, what if he could manipulate your dreams and made you dream about being a kid because he's wanting to heal your inner child/adopt you". I also started thinking recently about Lucifer AND OR Lilith using these powers to make you dream about 1) being with them in general and more specifically 2) motherhood and i started mentally deep diving for that shit. Like. It could genuinely actually get so fucked up actually. Could you imagine you're just, VULNERABLE with the Queen of Hell and you're drunk and you're crying and you're just, SPILLING EVERYTHING, she's getting your entire life's story, and she's petting your hair as youre way too drunk to realize youre telling her way too much, amd she's just thinking "oh you poor thing, human society sounds absolutely dreadful now" and like. Think of it from a hypothetical fantasy psychology perspective. It's not like Lilith has never been part of modern society, she's been a member of Hell forever and has only been out of contact for 7 years, BUT she also exists from a time predating all of that AND she built Hell with Lucifer, so like, imagine she actually starts forming some um Strong Opinions on how, it sounds like all these complicated modern things are really dragging you down, both as a person and as a free spirit, and comes to a consensus that your life needs to be a little... simpler

I'm serious, I'm talking "Lilith makes you dream about being In The Actual Goddamn Garden Of Eden Itself with her and Lucifer and you're ALL naked". Just completely controlling your dream. You're naked as the day you were born and so are they and you can't control your dream at ALL. Lilith is wanting to like, watch you peacefully frolic around, I'm talking she wants to see you having your Hot Nymph Summer where you're napping in beds of flowers and you're having birds land on your finger and you're gasping at all the pretty flowers and wanting to explore and, experiencing the beauty of being alive without all these messy modern nuances and it's like NO MAAM I DONT WANT TO PICK BERRIES FROM THAT BUSH, YOU CAN SEE M Y BUSH AND I CAN SEE YOURS AND YOUR HUSBANDS---

Alastor is over here thinking he's hot shit, "oh I do so wish we could return to simpler times without all these modern trivial problems!!" MEANWHILE LILITH IS LIKE. ACTUALLY GOING THAT EXTRA MILE. Alastor is like "boo cellphones are bad and women dont dress modestly enough, people these days spend too mych time with technology and not with family" meanwhile in "the garden" a completely naked Lilith is braiding your hair and weaving flowers into it while an also completely naked Lucifer is feeding you berries by hand as they discuss the idea of having a nice fun swim in the lake passed the glade, like you guys really are frolicking and fucking around like a bunch of fairies and it's. It's peaceful and fun but also you miss your cellphone and having underwear 😩 like miss queen of hell can I PLEASE get some boob support--

Moving on, I was thinking of the Fake Garden in of itself, as its own idea, but like in this poly baby raising context, it would be essentially Phase 1 of the plan to normalize their presences to you and make you more comfortable around them and then skipping into Phase 10 of "oh hey by the way you're gonna have a dream about um sleeping with the King and Queen of Hell and it's Totally Not Real and you're Totally Definitely Not Actually Like For Real For Real Legitimately Pregnant Now ;)" like. First off before I get any farther in this post can we just like acknowledge the like HEINOUSNESS of you not knowing everything is "real dreams" and LiliLuci using this to their full advantage to ask and find out anything about you because basically to them, they think you're just being boggled down and negatively influences by modern human society and you're like an onion they have to peel some layers off of first to expose those juicy inner tender bits

Just. Ok. Like. High level fantasy horror concept ok, here we go I'm gonna cook here:

It eventually does move on to you having dreams about living in an actual home with Lucifer and Lilith, sleeping with them in you know, All Those Ways, basically in what you think is some weird imaginary throuple that while you do find yourself enjoying it like actually, you can't wake up from it, and these dreams can feel WAY too long sometimes. You're dreaming of some, "am I a man dreaming I am a butterfly or am I a butterfly dreaming i am a man" shit where you hit the pillow in Hell and Dream You is waking up, seeing your husband and wife get ready for work and you're basically a pampered stay at home spouse. I honestly can't decide what dynamic would be cuter: both of them having jobs, you and Lilith having jobs while Lucifer is the house husband, only Lilith having a job while you and Lucifer do dumb shit at home, or Lucifer being big daddy and bringing home all the money while you and Lilith lounge by the pool and she takes you to the spa and pampers you all day and is sending texts and photos of how cute you are to her husband while he's working

You're probably thinking "wait but weeb this is actually kind of cute, where is the horror" and for starters it just kind of, mentally wears your energy down over time to 'never shut your brain off' and have true rest, like Lilith and Lucifer intentionally 'trade' you being alert in reality to you being more conscious in the dream world, so, you're not as present when you're around ACTUAL people as you are when you're in their little, fucked up pocket dimension.

Then you've got. The baby. You're pregnant ONLY in the dream. You have THE ACTUAL PAINFUL EXPERIENCE of giving birth, BUT THEN you're waking up and you can't hold your child, show them to your friends, have the, SANITY AND COMFORT OF KNOWING YOU ACTUALLY HAVE ONE. You're waking up DEVASTATED. Where's your baby? 🥺 oh right.... They're not... actually real... like it fucks you up psychologically

I just picture, if I were to put it in an order of events. You go from 1. Lilith and Lucifer are just your casual acquaintances, Charlie's parents that you know through her 2. They start getting closer to you as you stay longer at the Hotel 3. Ok we get along and have fun moments and even sing songs and we have fun times with your daughter ^^ 4. Ok you're getting maybe a little comfortable, am I tripping or are you a little too comfortable 5. You're Bush Out in Fake Eden 6. You accidentally slip up and get more cozy with them in reality because Ok Maybe The Stupid Garden Bullshit IS Fun And Maybe A Little Soul Healing 🙄 7. You're getting banged in the Garden 8. Being in reality is awkward now, suddenly you're avoiding them less, so you're dreaming about them more, having them push themselves closer to you in response to you trying to pull away, like even if you're spending entire days outside of the Hotel you can't escape needing to sleep eventually 9. Suddenly you're like, not in Eden, you're in a hospital getting an ultrasound w Lili Luci holding your hands as a doctor tells the three of you you're pregnant and oh no you're actually really happy and excited about it 🥺 10. crushing crushing reality. You're single and not pregnant and you're beating yourself up for these fucked up dreams you're blaming yourself for having, as if they're some self conscious desire and you're kinkshaming yourself for having them 11. Dream You is having your baby, everyone is so happy like it's actually so perfect, even when you're stressed as a first time parent you have so much love and support to keep you strong 12. You wake up and it's nothing but DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION where is my baby and my wife and my husband who love me and I love them DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION 13. Lilith and Lucifer HAVE TO to spill that Hey Our Baby Is Real because you're like going near insane with "grief" like youre like actually wanting to try and end your life or constantly self harming because Where Is MY CHILD 14. You're so fucked up at this point you don't care to ask questions when they hand your Very Much Real Baby to you looking exactly how you remember them from your dreams. You're just happy your baby is real and now you can be with them all of the time and you don't even care that um This Was Such A Fucking Ethically Dubious Conception.

Do you think the other Hotel residents would have a sliding scale of being ok with this. Like you just SHOW UP WITH THIS LITTLE BLONDE BABY IN YOUR ARMS and Lilith and Lucifer are all but glued to you and they're all fucking confused because WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??? you barely even spend time with these two, or so they thought??? When were you PREGNANT??? HOW??? I feel like realistically if they aren't all, you know, as Equally Crazy For You, that they would find this extremely manipulative and fucked up MEANWHILE CHARLIE DOESNT CARE and may have been in on it.

Also "something something what if Reader being able to get pregnant also turned out to be like God Himself being like 'hey lucifer lilith here's the deal I'm throwing you a bone right now, ok, this is for you, to keep things chill between us mk' and there are added layers of Oh Shit You Were Created To Be With Them" as if your ass wouldn't have an impossible enough time escaping as is 😭💀

But like... the concept of Reader falling so deep into "grief" that it gets so bad that you're basically not eating or sleeping, Lucirer and Lilith were always gonna tell you but they're forced to do it abruptly because you just breakdown and can't stop crying. Or it's even Charlie disobeying her parents and running up to you with your baby who stops crying the moment they're in your arms

I also just... as a final note..... just as a cute palette cleanser there's one specific idea I keep thinking of... you have your new baby and you're showing it to all your Hotel buddies and you give it to Alastor to hold because your baby was giggling and gurgling at him and you're just, death grip on his shoulder, "alastor please hold my child :) they're excited go meet you, say hi" and while you're like, vaguely threatening him to interact with this baby which he has Extremely Valid Reasons To Find Abhorrent, his deer ears move or twitch, and your baby is just looking up at him with their big eyes, watching those ears twitch, and, poof! Your baby has their first Lucifer/Lilith related shape-shifting incident and suddenly your baby has twitching little red ears and they're looking up at Alastor with these big cute eyes and here you are, "alastor :) aren't you going to praise my baby :) they just had their very first shift and it's for you :) tell them what a good job they did :) you're not trying to make my baby uncomfortable are you :)" and. Ok Maybe this does win Alastor over a bit being the narcissist that he is BUT THE TRUE REWARD is Lucifer scrambling into the room after you call out in excitement, dropping to his knees and all but wailing, "NO, WHY IS MY BABY HAVING THEIR FIRST SHIFT FOR Y O U AND I MISSED IT" and you just have Alastor being an ABSOLUTE SHIT, suddenly oh so cozy with your baby, "well talent recognizes talent! This little one clearly has potential! Why, look at how clearly they ALREADY ADORE THEIR DEAR UNCLE ALASTOR >:)" and from then on you can't leave these two men alone with your baby or they'll be having nonstop contests to "win them over" and prove who the best role model/caretaker is

Ok. Lastly. Lastly lastly lastly. THIS BABY SPECIFICALLY IS RUINING MY LIFE. Look at those STUPID CHUBBY cheeks and those big eyes and how attentive and focused she is like oh my godddddddd if LiliLuci handed one of those to me "this is yours" i would just die like 🥺🥺🥺 man, I'll have to tell you guys later about my idea for "Reader wants to see if Rosie will let them adopt a Hellborn baby and Alastor helps vouch for you and lowkey becomes your husband/the child's second parent" or "Reader finds an abandoned imp baby and all the shenanigans/protective possessive feelings from your yandere/s that follow once you begin your motherhood journey "

#yandere hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #yandere x reader #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts #hhhhrrrrrrrrr I KEEP HAVING ALASTOR THOUGHTS THOUGH

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catcze · 8 months

Note

Boxer wriothesley making out with you after a fight

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff, some suggestive content & mentions of sex but nothing actually 18+. Modern au !!

「 CWS : 」 Written pre release so potentially ooc !! Light mentions of injuries. making out 🥴. established relationship. Hand holding & hair pulling. Wriothesley lifts you up at one point and is so down bad. Wriothesley calls the reader sweetheart and baby. Reader wears perfume. Author knows jack shit about boxing and has never watched a boxing match so please excuse any and all inaccuracies

I got this ask and blacked out i saw red i was caught in a whole TRANCE do not perceive me i lost my sanity as i wrote this because the feelings that overcame me at the thought of shirtless, post-fight Wriothesley who shines w/ sweat and is full of post-match adrenaline was too much for my mental capacity to bear

The route to Wriothesley's locker room is one that you can navigate with your eyes closed— a confidence born from familiarity. Every time after a match, whether he wins or he loses, you always find your way from your front row seat to the door you stand before now. The first few times, he had instructed his managers to come pluck you up from your front row seat and escort you, but now the staff just bring you as far as the backstage security clearance, leaving you to find your own way.

You knock on the hard door twice, giving it a moment, then enter—

— and you're immediately swept up into Wriothesley's arms, a startled yelp escaping you as you clutch his shoulders on instinct.

"Hey, sweetheart," Wriothesley murmurs, pressing his nose to your neck while he holds you aloft, your legs tightly around his bare torso. He breathes your perfume in once, twice, like he can't get enough of it. "You enjoy the show?"

"Wriothesley!" you gasp, trying to tug free of his hold, gripping his hair and trying to pull him off of you to no avail. He stubbornly melts even more against you, pushing your back further against the door you came in through. "Put me down! You should be resting right now, not-"

"Not enjoying the fruit of my victory?" he teases against your neck, his tongue licking up the skin, making heat pool in your belly. Your shiver does not go unnoticed, and you can feel the quirk of his lips where they're pressed up against your neck. "'m fine, baby. Already got checked out and everything. Just need to go home and get some ice, that's all," he reassures you, pressing kisses to your neck and the side of your face, his hands squeezing your thighs appreciatively as he keeps you pinned up against the door.

You relax against him then, glad that he's mostly fine. The match had been over quick, anyways— it hadn't dragged out long enough for him to get hurt too badly. He had definitely walked away in much better shape than his opponent, at least.

The hand in his hair stops trying to tug him away, instead pulling him closer. You scratch his scalp and untangle little knots in his hair while he takes his fill of lathering attention onto your skin, making him purr delightedly in between leaving marks and bites wherever his mouth can reach.

When he adjusts his hold on you to free one hand (there's a zing in your veins when he effortlessly holds you up with ease) so it can play with the edge of your shirt, you reach down to pull it away, weaving your fingers together instead.

"We can't fuck in your locker room," you tell him resolutely, a frown on your face. "You have an interview when you go out and your managers will have your head and mine if you go on air looking like you just smashed."

He sighs but acquesces, pulling away from your neck to level his face just a few inches from yours. "Just a kiss, then. That okay?"

You nod and he's on you in an instant. With the short time you both have, Wriothesley hardly dawdles as his tongue traces along the seam of your mouth, instantly dipping in when you grant him entrance. There's a sigh from you and a low groan from him when his tongue meets your own, and he squeezes your hand that's still connected to his.

Wriothesley bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp and pull him harder against you by his hair. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed against yours, the sweat on him making him stick to you. Fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, his thumb drawing shapes you can't make out in your kiss-fueled haze.

His tongue licks the inside of your mouth, sighs of bliss transferring from his mouth into yours. "You're so good to me, baby," Wriothesley mumbles against your lips, eyes half lidded and something hungering behind them.

You can't even bring it in yourself to speak, tugging him closer once again because in that moment he is focusing too much on speaking and not enough on kissing you. He chuckles at your desperation, but gives in to you as he always does, letting himself be dragged further into your embrace.

Fuck it, the words are on the tip of your tongue. Fuck the interview. Put your hands under my shirt kiss me somewhere else—

Knock knock.

Like a gunshot, your eyes fly open at the interruption and you hand jolts, accidentally pulling on his hair too hard and making him hiss when he detaches from you. "Sorry, sorry," you murmur to him, pressing a fleeting peck to his lips. Now, it is your turn to bury your nose into his neck.

"You good in there?" The voice of his manager comes floating through the door, muffled. "The interviewer's been waiting a while by now, you know."

"Right, right. Be out in a bit." He hopes his manager doesn't realize that his voice is far too close to the door than it normally should be.

Wriothesley has to stifle a dissatisfied sound, maneuvering you off the door and gently placing you down on the bench in the room, mindful of the way your legs shake. A gentle kiss is placed to the crown of your head, then to the back of the hand he holds before he lets go.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says in a low rumble, voice deepened from the makeout. His lips are swollen from all the kissing— you hope people attribute it to his fight instead of a post-fight makeout. "Sit tight here, I'll come back for you when I'm done."

Then that hunger reappears in his eyes and his smile gets the slightest bit sharper. "We'll go home and continue where we left off. I promise."

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact #Cw GN reader #Cw Suggestive Content #if anyone wants an alt where you DO do the dirty in the locker room lmk 👀👀

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weemssapphic · 4 months

Note

Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk.

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door.

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle.

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze.

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea.

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it.

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?”

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands.

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move.

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back.

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment.

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over.

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :)

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :)

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;) Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips…

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her.

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh.

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink.

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously.

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own.

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking.

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off.

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs.

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go.

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you�� - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either.

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

Thud.

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table.

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers.

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last.

@alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr

#miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #top of the lake: china girl #i haven't posted in almost 2.5 months and i'm ANXIOUS #hype a girl up 😭#i also clearly couldn't be arsed to come up with a better title i'm SORRY 🥲

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | delicate au, prologue

౨ৎ ─ summary | the lore for all the AU!

─ warnings | people being just rude, nothing else?

─ ev's notes | so fucking excited for this au!! please send some thoughts in if you have any!! <3

joshlauriernews11 new york

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joshlauriernews11 | pictures from valentine's day, looks like the love birds are fighting again february 15th, 2023

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user662 | on valentines's day IS CRAZY

↳ joshlauriernews11 can't believe she was crying too 🫠

user568 | i wonder what they're fighting about wow

↳ joshlauriernews11 the article says its something to do with her tour but idk

↳ user777 i think its cus of work

user767 | the paps give them no privacy its so sad , poor baby libby :(

↳ user587 dude she literally signed up for that 😑

↳ user767 no she didn't she just wanted to make some music and yt videos pls stop dick riding josh so hard🤣

user908 | I WOULDN'T TREAT LIKE U THAT JOSH GIVE ME A CHANCE

↳ joshlauriernews11 real 😗 i hope they break up its better for everyone

user009 | this comment section was not girls girls FOR SURE jesus💀

libbytf the big apple

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libbytf | ur fav duo tagged: oliviarodrigo march 10th, 2023

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oliviarodrigo | imagine losing all that 🤗

↳ libbytf imagineeeee 🥲

lhughes_06 | 🫡

↳ leontf96 shes not a cougar

↳ lhughes_06 aww damn it

luvlibbytf888 | YES QUEENNNNN 🫶🏼🫶🏼 NEW ALBUM SOON??

↳ libbyswife god pls i know what u've done for others please i need it😪

leontf96 | okay but was he 6'3 tho?

↳ lhughes_06 i am ✌🏼✌🏼

↳ libbytf no he was not 🫢

eonline

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eonline | singer-songwriter libby turner-fallon and actor josh laurier have called it quits after roughly a year of dating (source: libby's newest instagram post) march 10th, 2023

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eonline [pinned] | let's all please be respectful to everyone, they are real people with feelings!!

joshlauriernews11 | called it 💁🏻‍♀️

↳ user888 YEAH I MEAN... whos surprised??

↳ oliviamendes not me [this comment has since been deleted]

↳ user888 THE SHADE OMG

luvlibbytf888 | she deserved better anyway

↳ user892 ok...

user091 | YAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAAY

↳ joshlauriernews11 💀

user720 | i can treat u better josh 😙💘

↳ heartsforlibs3 DICK RIDERRRRRRRRRRRR🥴

↳ livelaughluvlibs | did he pick u 🦗🦗🦗🦗

user778 | wait has anyone seen that pic of libby and a new guy on twitter???

↳ user828 already... 💀

↳ user778 wait it may not be libby but it looks real

↳ user028 IT LOOKS LIKE A HOCKEY PLAYER WHOA???

#delicate au #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes smut #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x y/n #nhl angst #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey

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mediocreanomaly · 10 months

Note

NESTING? PLS 😭 like ARE WE CONNECTED SOMEHOW this is so good

i have drowsy knives purring himself to sleep stuck in my head now--THIS IS LITERAL GOLD 😭 it would take a v special s/o to pick up the slight nuances of his emotions too n he'd be head over heels 🥺

but nesting instincts 🥺 please for the love of everything knives elaborate i i i wanna know all there is to know ab this man 🥺👉👈

n maybe vashy seperately too?? 🥴

Authors Note: Turned this into a full post because I'm procrastinating my drabbles anyways lmao this is going to give away a teeny tiny bit of my uncanny Vash post I'm making but I love talking about the Twins and their less than human instincts

Savern Twins Nesting HC's

Knives

•Knives is surprisingly the less embarrassed of the twins about nesting instincts, this is solely based on the fact that he doesn't see his plant qualities to be anything to be ashamed about, it's just another thing that sets him apart from humans

•Although, no one (besides you) knows about Knives nest. You may wonder how the two points can co-exist but that because a Plant's nest is supposed to be somewhere secure and safe. So while he's not embarrassed that he has a nest, he's not going to openly talk about it and risk giving away someone trying to get a peek of it (not that he really openly talks about anything)

•Knives nest is big, he had a bed custom made that's larger than a kings but circular and with plush raised walls so it feels not secure and less in the open. He's collected various blankets and pillows that fill the empty space so that he can bundle up under them, all of it is white because he refuses to let his nest look ugly or disorganized

•He's a perfectionist too so he spends a lot of time organizing and reorganizing his nest. Every time he gets a new blanket or pillow to add he has to redo the whole thing to make sure it's in the perfect spot or else he refuses to sleep in it

•Now Knives doesn't have to sleep much like he doesn't have to eat, but sleeping is something enjoys. He stresses about his plans a lot even if he doesn't show it outwardly. What better way to destress than napping in his nest?

•Whenever he decides to officially make you his mate (yes he calls it that, what else is he supposed to call it? Everything else sounds too human) all his instincts will scream at him to burrow into his nest

•For awhile you'll actually be hard pressed to even be allowed out of the nest, because why would you want to leave? As your mate Knives needs to keep you safe, and where's the safest place in the world? His safest place in the world, so please stop trying to leave the nest- you're hungry? fine he'll bring you food that you can eat in the nest

•I honestly don't think Independents hold body heat because their sisters live in water, which is one of many reasons they nest. It's also why Nai will drag you in with him when he wants to sleep so he can bum off your body heat. That's when when you learn he can purr (yeah thats right Plants purr propaganda) naps like this are the best. It's hard to stay awake when he's got you cuddled under blankets, gentle rumbles lulling you asleep

•After awhile you'll be allowed out so long as you are by his side or being escorted by Legato, or atleast unless you get pregnant

•If Knives manages to get you pregnant...you are banished to the nest again. It's not so bad though, besides he likes you like this. All round and full of his child, surrounded by plush comforters and pillows that cradle your form. At this point he won't leave your side unless he has to, if his instincts were bad before then they are haywire now, he stays curled up with you because theres no way you'd be able to defend yourself in a state like this, it's his job as your mate to keep you and his unborn child safe and sound, tucked away from the rest of the world

•When the baby is born it's where you'll spend most your time too, I mean...c'mon think about it. Your little one all tucked against you and Nai curled protectively around both of you, gentle purrs from both him and your baby as both their plant markings glow ever so slightly? If there's such thing as heaven this is it

•Knives has purposely made his nest large enough to hold his growing family, so no matter how many children you have you'll all get to curl up in the nest to find comfort or just to sleep.

•I think unfortunately once the children hit a certain age they are kicked out of the nest lol, it's more reserved for a Plants mate and young ones, so starting at maybe teen age it's time for them to make their own nest

•This isn't to say they aren't ever allowed in at all though. If Knives children are in any sort of distress his instincts kick in telling him to make sure their safe so in times like that they are still allowed in, the purpose of the nest is to provide him and his family with safety and comfort so no matter what it's there waiting for you

Vash

•Vash is admittedly a bit more embarrassed about the fact that he nest

•He tries his best to blend in with humans and thinks that people might find it weird that his instincts are constantly telling him to grab every soft thing he can find and hunker down

•Not that it really matters because he's always on the run anyways, he doesn't have time to stop and nest in the first place which makes it an easy an excuse to not nest at all, so Vash doesn't have a nest...right?

•Wrong. Like I said it's instinct and even Vash can't help but begin to nest in whatever shitty motel room he's in, especially if he's had a really rough day and just wants to sleep.

•Vash's nest is...admittedly a bit more pitiful than Knives. Knives has the advantage of staying in one spot, Vash does not, so he doesn't have a single nest but more so a hastily made one consisting of anything soft he can find. old blankets, pillows, clothes, rags, and even his own coat all make up his haphazard resting place.

•When he meets you though oh boy does it make it harder to resist the urge to stay and make a nice big nest for the two of you to hide away in

•It takes awhile for you to learn of Vash's little habit because he tries really hard to hide it away. He doesn't want you to think he's weird so when he does show it to you and you don't react negativly he's shyly asking, "do you...want to get in it?"

•Please say yes, his heart can't take any other answer. After that Vash is more keen on nesting even though the two of you travel, you even buy him a couple blankets that you pack up and bring so that he has something more consistant to nest with. The two of you will arrive at the motel for the night and you sit on the bed watching as Vash sleepily mulls over the blankets, pillows, and clothes he's choosen and organses it in a satisfactory way before he weakily pulls you in with him, purring as he cuddles up to you

•If you run your hand through his hair you'll be rewarded with more purrs and him nuzzling into your hand, but don't comment on it or he'll get embarrassed and hide his face into the blankets while he pulls away

•Vash wouldn't try to get you pregnant unless it was after he dealt with his brother and at that point I think he'd have a more permanent nest. Whether that's on Ship 3 or your own little home he's finally got a spot that he knows is always there, perfect to keep you in while you grow your baby!

•Vash loves spending time in the nest, it's from a mixture of putting off his instincts so long when he was on the run and the fact he actually has a place of comfort for once that does it, so if you can't find your partner...he's most likely buried in the nest

•It's super cute though, you'll walk in the room and softly call "Vash?" and his head will peak out of the mountain of blankets eyes still half lidded with sleep and hair all messy as he says a soft "hmm?"

•This nest is still a bit more messy and it's one of those "it looks disorganized but Vash know exactly where everything is" situations, he doesn't really care about colors or anything, infact it's proably mostly blankets that other people have gifted him over the years, he feels like it tells a story

•Unlike Knives, you'll have to be the one to eventually kick the kids out of the nest once they get older because "what do you mean they can't stay in here with us? Their still our baby!" "Vash their 20" "and?"

•Vash's plant marks always appear when he's in the nest, he can't help it! It's so comforting, besides he has you here warming him up and your kids cuddled in the covers- oop he's crying, don't worry they're happy tears

After note: I hope you liked it!!! I wanted to add more stuff about you being able to read Knives but it didn't really fit so that might have to be saved for another list I'm a firm "the boys do weird but cute animal things" believer and it's my job to infect people with that propaganda

#vash x you #knives x you #vash x reader #knives x reader #trigun x reader #trigun x you #Zero responds

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

Note

CONGRATS ON 2kkkkk ♥️

Can I request stoner!hobi x stoner! Reader where they fuck each other in hhoseoks van and hoseoks hitting it from daa back and puffing clouds at her (some fluff tooo🥴)

thank you lovely!! 💕

intoxicated

Drugs make everything better. Even sex.

pairing: stoner!hoseok x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, smut

warnings: drugs consumption, unprotected sex, 500 words.

a.n.: idk how accurate this is!! not super familiar with drugs lol gonna be honest 😬

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍 (requests are closed!!)

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

Hoseok's hand is caressing your back, running up and down on it sensually, his other hand holding the joint to his lips. He swiftly moves in and out of you, his cock hard and tip leaking so much pre-cum, so happy to be buried deep in your pussy.

Drugs always make things better, more pleasurable, more... tingly. The bed covers feel so silky underneath you, you can't seem to stop touching them, they're the softest thing you've ever felt — apart from Hoseok's body, of course.

You sweetly moan as he pounds into you at a regular pace, not rushing things at all. Hoseok always takes his time, always takes things slow and you really like this about him.

And anyway, he stays hard very long when he's high, it's surely not to displease you.

"Hobi, feels so good," you moan out, the side of your face squished against the mattress.

"I know, baby," he says, clouds of smoke escaping his mouth as he speaks. "Think you can take it for a little longer?" He wonders, grabbing your hip with his free hand.

Sure, you can take his cock for a while, but maybe you'll lose the sensitivity in your legs in the meantime. If you haven't lost it already.

"Yeah..." You reply, eyes rolling as you clench around Hoseok, his dick reaching really deep in your pussy. "Just a little longer," you babble out, whining when he slaps one of your asscheeks.

"Good girl," he praises, taking one last puff out of his joint before taking a hold of your neck and bringing you up to him.

Your sweaty back sticks to his chest and he tilts your head to make you look behind you, Hoseok's face inches away from yours.

Your mouth stays agape — it's easier to let out moans that way — and he takes the opportunity to blow the smoke into your mouth. You inhale it gladly, humming when the intoxicated air goes in, stimulating all of your senses.

"Thanks," you smile, feeling his hand roaming over your body, groping your tits then rubbing your pussy, making you let out a sweet moan.

"Everything for my pretty girl," he replies back and kisses you, tongues tangling together and smoke mingling to your breaths.

You break your kiss and get back down on all fours, Hoseok's hand quick to pull on your hair. He hits your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars and the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten.

"Fuck, Hobi, so close," you warn him, crunching the bedsheets between your fists as the pleasure becomes more intense. "Please, I want to cum," you beg, a little desperate, a little overwhelmed.

"Yeah? My girl wants to come?"

"Yes!"

You gasp out when he starts pounding faster, going rougher than you've imagined, but you're far from protesting. You let yourself go, Hoseok's hips snapping against yours and it's probably going to leave some bruises, but you couldn't care less.

Soon, you feel your legs shaking, your orgasm passes through you and you slump down on the bed, no more strength in your legs. Hoseok isn't done, though, so he continues, using you to get himself off.

He eventually cums in your pussy, filling you up completely. You moan at the feeling, totally in heaven. Hoseok falls beside you after and you snuggle yourself closer to him, watching him pull on his joint every now and then.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #hoseok drabble #hoseok fanfiction #hoseok fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut

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strlingsav · 1 year

Note

Omg pls don't post my previous ask I meant to say part two to Yours 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 the breeding link one 😯🥹😮‍💨🥴🥴🥴

LOL no worries I got you 😉 Sequel to this 🫶🏻

Yours: Two

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It snuck up on you; moving yourself into Simon's apartment, the engagement, the wedding. It seemed to blend together, fragments of images and memories that stuck in your head. It was rushed, full of eagerness and excitement to move forward together. You never questioned where you were headed; there was always a looming feeling of certainty in your life with Simon.

You'd only been married a few days- still enjoying the aftermath of the private ceremony inside the nearest courthouse. Neither of you were interested in the gawking guests and awkward socialization. Simon had only just asked you if you wanted to be married, aside from your preferences for privacy, there was hardly time to plan anything anyways.

You stick the spatula under the doughy circle, flipping it over to the other side while Simon stands flush against the counter, enjoying the sight of you in his T-shirt. Your attention is focused solely on not burning your breakfast; brows furrowed, leaning forward and peeking underneath impatiently.

"You cooked before?" He teases. He knows just how to get under your skin, how to make your teeth clench.

"Yes," You shoot back, eyes narrowing at the expression of smugness on his face. "Your frying pan is shit."

"Think you just don't know how to make a pancake."

"If I didn't know, could I be doing it right now?"

"You're doin' somethin'."

"Do you even want to eat?"

"Debatin' on it. Might just skip breakfast."

"You're so dramatic," You roll your eyes, letting the pancake fall onto the plate. Handing it to him, you jut the plate against his chest. "Eat it. And like it."

His lips split into a grin, not unlike him once he truly trusted you; since you'd forced your way into the cracks between his walls, and seen the parts of himself he hid from everyone. You'd been lucky enough to have experienced it already, going on years, now, but it never failed to warm your insides.

There's silence, as he sets the plate down and readies a second for yourself. He's behind you, sifting through the drawer of cutlery, then stands back to sip his tea and watch you struggle to separate the pan from the dough.

"You wanna stay here?" His eyes shift to yours from the cup he's sipping out of.

He's nervous. It's unusual- he's never nervous. Not even when he's on enemy territory, or taking fire. But with you, the risk is there. He can't control you, instead, he has to wait with composure and a racing heart until you answer. The worst kind of torture, especially as it sits low in his gut, a sunken rock weighing him down while your eyes shift side to side. He's thought about this for a long time; wanted you, in every way possible, for a long time.

Your head jerks back with confusion. "I already am."

"Permanently. Get married and all that."

Your brow quirks up, lips curled upward in amusement. His nonchalance regarding the subject is admirable, given that you can see his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You scrunch your nose, ruminating on the offer for a moment- you like to keep him on his toes.

"Guess so, just don't complain about my cooking again." You threaten him with the spatula, your face softening with an affectionate smile.

He steps by you, a soft hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I can overlook it."

Of course, your cooking is always the furthest thing from his mind when he sees you, feels you. He'd never let you go, regardless of how shitty a pancake you make.

You'd agreed to a simple honeymoon, a bed and breakfast in a quaint town at the edge of a lake. He was on leave, a perfectly executed plan, giving you time for a vacation that landed you in a forested haven for a week.

It was serene, peaceful, offering a calm atmosphere you didn't quite have back home. In the centre of the city, with traffic and a heavy population, quiet was a rare commodity.

It was a small cabin, heated by a wood stove and decorated with knitted blankets. It was comfortable, cozy- isolated. The perfect place for two.

You'd spent the day reading in silence, appreciating the smell of crackling wood. Simon had asked to take you fishing, which wasn't something you were even aware he knew how to do. He'd revealed he was an avid hunter- another surprise. It was no secret now, why he'd suggested the rustic cabin away from civilization. Truthfully, he wanted you all to himself. No distractions, no interruptions, no obstacles; he wanted his wife.

You hadn't taken your eyes off the wedding band Simon had picked for you. It was foreign, the weight around your finger. You found yourself distracted by it a few times, catching your eye when you'd wash your hands or pour yourself a drink. It would force you to remember you were married now- a commitment that was heavy and binding. You'd attached yourself to Simon, legally, and though it was overwhelming, you'd grown to thoroughly enjoy the sight of the ring on your finger and what it meant.

His hands glided around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. He watched from behind you, staring at the pot on the stove as you stirred slowly. His eyes were drawn to the ring too, and just how well it suited you. How well being his suited you. He was a bit thrown; he hadn't expected to be turned on by a damn ring.

"You feel like eating soon?" You turned your head a bit, watching him from your periphery.

"I do," He nodded. Innocent, though not quite. He had mischief behind his eyes, recognizable by the dilated pupils and glassy shine. "Been starvin', sweetheart."

His fingers were slow and menacing, a purposeful touch as he slid down to your jeans, hooking his thumbs inside the waistband to pull your ass against his groin. He sighed- strangled and painfully desperate. He pulled the button and zipper open without a second thought. A wave of heat crept over your body, expanding to reach your abdomen when his hands yanked your jeans down past your thighs, gently pulling your feet out of them.

"I meant dinner," Your voice faltered, a failed attempt at resisting his antics.

"'M lookin' at it."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the flesh of your ass, soft kisses that teased the unabashed bite he unleashed afterward. Teeth grazing the silky flesh, hands pawing at your hips as he angled you down, revealing the mouth-watering vision of your panties, clinging to the moist patch that was growing quickly.

He pressed his lips against your pussy, an action that made you gasp. His low groan didn't go unnoticed, especially not with how difficult it was becoming to concentrate on stirring.

He tugged your panties aside, his tongue gliding through you. His first taste was fucking heavenly, and he didn't think he'd be able to restrain himself. He gripped your ass now, tugging and pulling at you to allow for better access. He ran across your clit, a harsh lick that made your hips jump. His fingers were clinging to you so tightly, even the smallest movements were nearly impossible.

"Simon," You said, a weak warning. "I'm cooking- I can't- you can't eat me out right now." You almost laughed.

"Perfect little wife you are," He sighed, relishing in the undeniable possessiveness that drove his every action. "Let me enjoy it." He spared only a few moments before diving back in to press his face against you.

You could never resist his charm, especially not when his tongue was providing such pleasure; long, languid strokes over your clit that made your knees buckle.

You huffed, pushing the pot off the burner before turning around to face him. He hummed.

"There's my girl," He remarked, grabbing your thigh and hoisting it over his shoulder.

He buried his face between your thighs, fingers holding your panties aside while his tongue slid back against your clit.

"Cookin' make you this wet?" He asked, eyes peering up at you as he sat back for a moment.

Your hand came up to rest on his crown, a short nod and mhm, before you pulled him in to continue. You didn't have the mind to put up with teasing, he'd already half-finished the job, you needed it done.

A muffled chuckle made you shiver, even more so when his fingers inched their way inside you. Your head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as he curled them inside you, flicking his tongue with methodical vigour.

His lips mouthed at your clit, and your whole body shook, bursts of adrenaline shooting up your body from every pump of his fingers and caress of his tongue.

You blew air through a small parting in your lips, exhaling the growing impatience as he teased your orgasm. You teetered on the edge, not quite there but only a few moments away. Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging softly to release your frustration, though he didn't cease or pick up his pace.

You inadvertently lifted your hips to his face, begging for more. He never took the bait, always did what he wanted until you asked otherwise. He enjoyed watching you come undone on his tongue, and had memorized every movement necessary to see and feel it.

Your fingers were harsher now, no longer a soft grasp but desperate, wanting. So close to falling over the edge, it was almost irritating. You could feel it building, a tightness enveloping your abdomen, heat spreading through every limb until you felt like you were on fire.

Your lips parted, a whine- not quite a moan, but loud enough to catch his attention and make him exhale a quiet moan. You were almost there, and he gave a few more strokes before you gasped.

You had latched your fingers to his head, squeezing tightly as your body exploded with pleasure, grinding yourself against his nose and tongue.

"Oh God, Simon," You moaned now, appreciative of the effort he gave.

A thin layer of sweat dotted your brow, heart racing and panting while you recovered from your muscles tensing.

He stood to his feet, your eyes following his. His hands came to your hips, a delicate touch at first, before he pulled you closer, able to lift you onto the nearby counter with little effort.

His fingers dragged your panties down your thighs, rough hands clasping around the smooth skin of your calves. Your teeth pulled at the flesh of your cheeks, waiting with searing anticipation, nearly trembling with impatience.

He stood between your thighs, letting you lift the shirt off his torso. Your palms pressed flat against the muscular expanse of his abdomen, and his hands dropped to undo the belt and button of his pants.

"Got me rock-fuckin'-hard all the time," He grumbled against your neck, inhaling your scent with appreciation.

"So fuck me," Your hands met his, gently running your hand over his cock as you pulled his briefs down. His head dropped to your shoulder, lips lazily pressing against the ridge of your collarbone.

"That's a foul mouth you've got, Mrs. Riley."

You grinned.

He reached around to pull your hips closer, his cock pressing into the warm flesh of your pussy.

"Oh!" You exclaimed, your hand reaching his bicep to stop him. "I meant to tell you," You looked up at him, your next words were meek and cautious. "I stopped taking my birth control."

His brows furrowed. There were conflicting feelings inside him; unbridled desire, the overwhelming urge to plunge his cock inside you, uncaring of the consequences, and hesitation. It was real, now. The only remaining milestone was children, even more demanding than marriage.

He was apprehensive, not sure whether he was truly ready, no matter the circumstances. The two of you had built a secure life for yourselves, there were no unanswered questions or outstanding business that prevented any of it. The only real obstacle was his own feelings.

He knew what he was in for if he did happen to get you pregnant. He had no reservations about it, in fact, the image of you pregnant, with your shared child brought goosebumps to his skin. Motherhood would suit you, and you'd more than coaxed the paternal instinct from him. It was usually the only thing he could think about, a happy family for him to watch over, provide for. He was ready; it'd been sitting on his mind since before getting engaged, and he didn't want to waste anymore time.

"I brought condoms, in case you were worried. Not like I'll get pregnant right away, but if you're not there yet, I-"

He cut off your rambling with a kiss, pushing his cock inside you. A quiet gasp left your parted lips, and you reached for his shoulders, instinctually.

He thrusted into you, a few times, before settling against your hips. It was intimate, faces only inches from each others, limbs tangled together in a bubble of heat and desire.

"You wanna have my kid?" He asked, not quite disbelief but reaching for the answer he already knew.

"I do." It was genuine, undeniably real and true.

He hummed in response, inquisitive and teasing while he pressed soft kisses to the flesh of your neck.

"All you had to say," He answered. "Been waitin' to get you pregnant."

You flushed, cheeks burning and your womb igniting with a searing heat you'd yet to feel since he'd talked about kids once before, while inside you.

You'd taken it at face value then, reckless language during an intimate exchange, but now, you began to theorize that he truly meant it.

"Put a kid in me." It was mostly harmless, a teasing expression you didn't expect to get you anywhere.

However, your explicit words elicited a groan from his throat, his hips jerking forward. Hearing you say those words, while he was deep in the inviting warmth of your pussy- it made his cock even harder.

His head had fallen to your shoulder, gentle pants against your skin as he began to thrust into you.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Fuckin' hell. Let me give you a kid."

Your calves interlocked behind his back, arching into him to allow for better access. He had his hands on your waist, a bruising hold on you when his pace picked up. Your hand reached out, cupping the nape of his neck, wrapping the other around his shoulder in a desperate attempt to get closer, to let him into the deepest parts of you.

Your quiet moans echoed in his ear, spurring him on, pushing him closer to the edge with every roll of his hips. He could hardly focus with every breath that came out of your mouth, every whimper of his name, curse word.

He lifted his head to meet your eyes, poring himself into you with unending commitment, a promise, an oath.

Your lips absorbed his, tongues gliding together in a messy choreography. You reached a hand down to your clit, already wet with the spreading arousal from your pussy, and met his pace with harsh circles and grinds.

Your head fell back, hitting the wooden cupboards with a thud.

"Fuck, Simon," You moaned. It was loud, louder than intended, but it sent chills up your spine to hear yourself call out for him.

"Christ," He grunted, reaching out to cup your jaw in a desperate hold. "That's it, say my fuckin' name."

Your eyes shut briefly, overwhelmed by the lick of pleasure shooting up your spine, the dirty words from his mouth that made your climax inch even closer.

"Simon," Your voice was softer now, weak with the effort your mind was using to focus on your impending orgasm. Your body was rigid, tense with anticipation, and it hit you with gradual intensity.

Your lips fell apart, fingers digging into your neck, pulling him closer.

"Shit- fuck yes, baby." Your voice was low, guttural, begging and pleading for him to continue.

He choked back a groan as he felt your pussy clench around his cock, hardly able to resist the urge to cum- he wanted to watch you through it, give you his undivided attention.

You kissed him again- a thank you, haphazard and weak with your fragile state.

"Y'want my cum?" He asked, brows furrowing at he neared his orgasm. "Y'want it deep in you, love?"

You nodded, chest rising quickly against his. "Please," Was all you managed to breathe out.

"Fuck me," His eyes narrowed, an uninterrupted glare. "Take it," He said, teeth clenching.

He finished inside you, deep strokes turning to stuttering thrusts as he came down from his high. He exhaled through flared nostrils, eyes shutting momentarily as he relished in the warmth and softness of your walls, squeezing every last bit of cum from him.

"Bloody hell," He sighed, his eyes meeting yours, softening.

You blew out a breath, kissing him with a gentleness, a loving expression. He helped you from the counter, his hands on your waist as he returned your kiss with soft lips on your forehead.

"Not long in your sinful cunt."

You bit back a grin, pulling him in for a lasting kiss.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you #ask strlingsav

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