#wc br | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whorelaud · 8 months ago

Text

꒦꒷ ﹏ untouchable ¡

pairing experienced¡roommate¡rafe cameron x innocent¡reader

summary rafe guides you through your first masturbation after you told him you've never touched yourself before, his offer tempting you in ways you've never experienced before. your curiosity grows as well as your desire, leading to an intimate moment that changed things between you two.

contains smut! first time masturbating, guided orgasm, fingering, lots and lots of kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, needy reader, player rafe, hes a tease!! he also interrupts reader, uhh thats ab it (i think). wc; 4.2k

a/n hi !! this took two days to write and at least 1-2 months to get out of my notes blaahhh hope you enjoy!!!!

“Have you ever had someone go down on you?”

You choked out a snort of disblief, taken aback by the question. Rafe, who was seated inches away from you, chuckled, turning his head in your direction, causing the smile on your face to instantly vanish.

He wasn’t joking.

You cleared your throat, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You’ve had your fair share of embrassing moments with your roommate, but this? You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, too ashamed to respond.

Truth be told, you’ve never involved yourself in any sexual activities, let alone had someone go down on you. Hell, you’ve barely ever touched yourself before, brushing off your random bursts of arousal whenever you were sexually frustrated

So, the question here was, how were you supposed to tell him that? Reveal that you were a virgin at heart, and that you’ve never had someone touch you intimatly; not that you’ve done it.

You were painfully aware of how experienced Rafe was, with the latter informing you all about his hookups; and that was besides the amount of girls he brought over. The walls were thin enough to give everything out, their loud moans and whimpers echoing through your ears. In conclusion, you didn’t need him to break down what he was up to.

“Not that I remember.” You muttered, brushing off the question.

“What?” He cocked his head to the side, snatching the spoonful of ice cream from your hold. “Who doesn’t remember getting eaten out?”

“People are busy, Rafe.” You scoffed, licking the drop of ice cream off your thumb. “Not everyone has the time to fuck around.”

“You’re not busy,” he muffled out, tossing the spoon back in the tube of ice cream on your lap. “You don’t go out, all you do is lay around the whole day, then proceed to complain over the fact that you did nothing all day.”

You rolled your eyes, faking an annoyed expression at his words. Rafe adjusted his position, manspreading on the sofa, until his knee was hovering over yours, the contact ceasing the distance between you.

“I mean, come one…” he trailed off, tone slightly teasing. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone over, are you really not interested in any of that stuff?”

“How about you mind your business?” You huffed, feeling your ears burn with heat. “Why do you wanna know so bad?”

“What?!” He defensively shot back, “I’m jus’ curious, besides, you never tell me anything, it’s always me talking.”

“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to tell you,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “There, you happy?”

Silence seeped through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension. Rafe‘s lips parted with disbelief, speechles by your blunt response. That was… new, you never brought up your sexual life to the latter before, so to think you were admitting to being a virgin over a silly argument struck Rafe to his core.

"You're not like, serious or anything, right?” He attempted to laugh it off, smile fading when your expression remained the same. “Shit, you’re being serious.”

Your gaze settled on your hands in your lap, too embarrassed to glance over at Rafe, whose eyes burned holes through your flesh. You could envision the look of disbelief on his face, not having to look to know that he was shocked.

“Why are you surprised?” You giggled, brushing off the heavy tension seeping through. “You said it yourself, i’ve never really brought anyone over.”

“I was messing,” he swiftly replied, “I didn’t think you were you know… a virgin.”

“Okay, if you word it like that…” You tilted your head to the side, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your lips.

“Have you never like, engaged in anything?” Rafe muttered, trying to play off the question as something casual, though you knew it wasn’t. “You know, never gave a guy a blowjob before?”

Nothing about your roommate asking if you’ve given a guy a blowjob was casual.

“No.” You shook your head, a snort escaping your throat.

“You’ve kissed someone before though, right?” He asked, voice lowering with hesitation.

“I’ve kissed someone before.” You exclaimed, leaning your head back on the sofa. “You already knew about that.”

“You did tell me,” he nodded his head, “Have you never like…”

“What is it now, Rafe?” You question, teasing hinted through your tone. “Why are you investigating me?”

“‘M not; jus’ curious.” He muffled out, voice barely above a whisper. “Have you never pleased yourself?”

“What?” You ask, coming to a halt.

The question filled with temptation, something you both chose to avoid for the sake of your friendship. Rafe always playfully flirts with you, using every chance he could to tease you. Those usually end in you brushing it off, not thinking too much of it.

However, this was personal. He was asking questions that shall be private, not for him to hear, nor know about.

“Have you never touched yourself before?” He elaborated, gaze flickering to your lap. “You’ve touched yourself, right?”

You remained silent, blinking far too many times for your liking. You fidgeted with the rings hugging your fingers, busying yourself with the movie displayed on the tv, now long forgotten with the ongoing conversation.

“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, throat going dry. “That’s so…”

“Embrassing,” you cut him off, playing off your embarrassment. “I know.”

“It’s hot; somehow turns me on,” he corrected, continuing his statement. “Knowing you’ve never touched yourself before.”

Your head shifted in his direction, a flustered expression spreading across your face as you felt heat settle on your cheeks. You swallowed around your throat, mouth gaping to speak, met with utter silence in return.

Shivers ran down your spine, the sensation like feathers on your skin. Rafe’s blank expression made things worse, displaying how serious he was being. He wasn’t fucking around, even with how swift the conversation took a turn.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “Quit messin’ around.”

“Did that get you?” Rafe choked out a giggle, easing the tension between you.

“That wasn’t funny!” You huffed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that.”

“I mean,” he said, teasingly fidgeting with his tongue. “It wasn’t a joke, but–”

“Rafe!” Your face heat up, flustered expression spreading across your face.

“Sorry!” He chuckled, drifting off for a moment. His gaze trailed down your body, a sly smirk finding his lips once again. “You need help? I’ll guide you through it.”

You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment, even if he meant it as a joke. Your lips quivered into a thin line, feeling your throat dry up when his hand found your bare thigh, action teasing, tempting you in ways that were forbidden.

And before you got time to process the gesture, he grabbed the ice cream tube from your lap, instantly scooping a bite with the spoon inside. It took you a moment to catch on with what he did, attempting (and failing) to snatch it back from his hold.

“Hey, that’s mine.” You muttered, gaze shifting up to Rafe when he stood to his feet.

“What’s mind is yours, remember?” He winked, walking backwards to maintain eye contact with you. “We both pay the bills around here.”

“I paid for that, though.” You argued, mimicking the latter’s action as you followed in his steps.

“From whose wallet?” He reasoned, causing you to go quiet.

Right, you did steal ten bucks to buy that from him; though the boy didn’t mind.

Your shoulder relaxed, defeated by the boy’s response as you watched him enter his room, letting the door shut behind him.

That was that.

Later that night, you found yourself slipping under your convers, tempted by Rafe’s words from earlier. Your hands traced down your body, halting around the sliver of skin in between your shirt and shorts.

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, teeth digging through your bottom lip as your hand tumbled beneath the thin cloth, the sensation of your cold fingers brushing over your heat sending shivers throughout your body.

Your digits lightly traced over your heat, sliding down your folds, inaudible gasp escaping your throat when you noticed how wet you’ve gotten from earlier. Rafe’s words echoed through your ears as your eyes fell shut, imagining him guiding you through your masturbation with his words, the thought spiraling pleasure through your body.

You collected your juices with your fingers, gasping as you traced them back to your clit, the sensation overwhelming you whole. You started off with slow rubs to your cunt, letting your pleasure build up within every touch you committed to.

You imagined Rafe’s hand instead of yours, rubbing your clit while he whispered praises to your ears. The thought washed guilt over you, aware you were going to regret your pathetic thoughts once the pleasure wears off.

Imagining your roommate going down on you was your last predicament tonight, yet, here you were, touching yourself while pretending it was Rafe, his words never leaving your mind. You would’ve been down for whatever, the least he could’ve done was push through with his teasing, and you would’ve gladly accepted it.

But he didn’t, and that made you want him even more. The idea of not being able to have him, not even for a moment, because it was forbidden. You were well aware of that, barely holding back before, whether Rafe stood too close, or said something tempting.

“Hey, uh, have you seen my green–” Rafe burst through the door, freezing in his tracks once he noticed the state you were in. “Sweatshirt?”

The covers weren’t much of help, as Rafe instantly realized what you were doing. He gulped, feeling himself twitch in his pants, as his fingers clutched around the doorknob. You immediately jumped out of your position once you spotted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes trailed down to his torso, feeling heat crawl to your face when you noticed his bare chest, out on display. Right, that was a norm, you should’ve been used to it by now.

“What the fuck, dude?” You shot back, heavy breaths escaping your throat. “Can’t you knock?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, too hazed up to process what you were saying. “Right, sorry, I– I should’ve knocked.”

You felt so exposed under his gaze, tugging your bottom lip with guilt as you caught sight of his face. Maybe that was meant to happen, a sign that you shouldn’t have crossed the invisble line you created, pleasing yourself over the thought of your best friend.

“What do you need?” You muffled out, gulping when his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“Well, I was jus’ asking if you’ve seen my sweatshirt, but…” He trailed off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You seem busy.”

“I was sleeping.” You replied, though the excuse was not much help. “You– you interrupted.”

“Clearly,” He cocked his head to the side, seeking your gaze with his own, a desperate exhale escaping his parted lips when your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’ll leave you to it, then…”

He trailed off, hinting something with his tone. He hesitated to leave, still clutching into the door handle while he stared at you, waiting for you to at least say something, stop him before he does anything stupid and ruin your friendship in the process.

However, you didn’t, leading the latter to shut the door, the gesture causing you to wince. You gulped, observing as Rafe came to a halt, his back to the door, with his hand yet wrapped around the doorknob. His lips parted with an exhale, fingers finding his jaw as he busied himself with his chin.

And if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous. But he wasn't. You knew Rafe, he was your roommate, after all.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, voice low enough he could barely hear you.

Rafe remained silent, leisurely approaching you with haste. Your gaze followed his every move as he came to a halt around the edge of the bed, now towering over you. You fluttered your eyes up at the latter, breath hitching when you noticed the look of despair on his face.

His fingers hovered beneath your chin, thumb slightly tracing your bottom lip, the fraction causing your mouth to part. He tilted your head with the fingers around your jaw, cursing under his breath once he caught sight of your hazed state, too far gone to comprehend your surroundings.

“You need help with that?” He questioned, gaze flickering to the shorts that hung low on your waist, able to see them now that he was in your presence.

“Huh?” You questioned, vision going blurry when his thumb grazed over your teeth. “What do you mean?”

He groaned when your tongue darted out, licking a stripe of his finger, the gesture bold, encouraging him to continue. And he did, inserting his thumb inside your mouth, the sensation of your hot spit coating his finger earning a shuddered exhale out of the boy.

You swirled your tongue around the digit, driving Rafe over the edge. He imagined your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his finger, the dirty thought causing him to twitch in his pants, fully hard hard by now.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger from in between your lips, and replaced it with his own as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Can’t believe you’ve never let anyone touch you before.”

“Is it that hard to believe?” You hushed, lowering your tone to match his. “Are you gonna tease me over it?”

“While that does sound tempting right now,” he smiled over your mouth, littering wet kisses in between his sentence. “I’ll pass, ‘rather focus on you, doll.”

Your face heat up at the pet name, too flustered to respond. You were still in disbelief over this, whatever it was, not expecting anything like this to happen between you two. Fuck, Rafe was kissing you, and you were totally in for it, in fact, your body was speaking faster than your mind, following your needs before you could process it.

“I’ll guide you through your first time, baby.” He muttered under his breath, knee finding the space in between your legs. He captured the corner of your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one of his hands toying with the strap of your bra. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You know,” you trailed off, enjoying the sensation of his fingers tracing the bare skin around your shoulders, the contact like feathers to your flesh. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” He asked, hands shifting down to your waist, barely above the hem of your top. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, ‘m only helpin’ you.”

“Jus’ shut up n’ kiss me.” You slurred, wrapping both arms around his neck as you ceased the distance between you.

A content hum left Rafe’s throat, pressing you down to the bed with the hands around your waist. The latter hovered over you, angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. A gasp escaped your throat as he nibbled on your bottom lip, the unexpected gesture causing you to part your mouth.

Rafe saw a chance, and took it, tongue invading the inside of your mouth with the access you granted him, your fingers toyed with the bozzed hair at the back of his head, almost yelping when his cold fingers made contact with the sliver of skin around your stomach.

You’ve never been touched by a man like this before, Rafe was exploring parts in your body that were meant to be hidden, not for his gaze to admire. Multiple times he had to hold back, watching you innocently walk around the house with a set of pajamas that barely covered anything, revealing all your curves.

You drove him crazy, with everytime you moved, slightly teased him, told him things no one should know, he wasn’t able to handle it, not with how oblivious you were to the hints he kept dropping. And if he rubbed one out to the thought of you, he wasn’t mentioning it; not to you, that’s for sure.

His fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, withdrawing from the kiss to glance down, making you feel shy under his gaze. He tugged the elastic down your side, hissing when his fingers made contact with the warm skin hidden underneath.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, “Get these off, need to see you s’ bad.”

You moaned at the remark, letting your eyes fall shut as he tugged your shorts down, levelling them with your knees, until he could get a good view of your dripping cunt. A shuddered sigh escaped his lips, fingers instantly finding your folds.

You gasped at the sensation, arching into the touch, chasing after your pleasure when he moved his hand up your sides, pressing your hips down to the bed.

“Stay,” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m supposed to be helpin’ you, ‘member?”

Right, that skipped over your head.

“Well then, hurry up and do it.” You whined, almost yelping when his hand hovered over your heat. “Fuck, Rafe, please.”

“Please what?” He question, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “Use your words, baby.”

“Touch me.” You demanded, words slurring out of your mouth.

“You know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, retrieving one of your hands from around his neck. “S’ supposed to be your job.”

He guided your hand down to your heat, pressing your fingers to your clit. You moaned, leaning your head back as Rafe moved your digits over your cunt, using his hand to lead you through the rhythm, slow and steady, not too much, in case you grew sensitive to it.

You desperately shuddered under the touch, gasping when Rafe pressed his hand over yours, the gesture spiraling pleasure throughout your body. His face nuzzled into your neck, littering wet kisses to your throat as he continued pleasing you with his guided hand, leisurenly picking up his (your) pace.

“Fuck,” you whined, nails digging into the blade of his shoulder, well aware he was waking up with bruises with how much pressure you were applying. “Feels s’ good.”

“Yeah?” He muffled against your neck, teeth grazing over flesh, before he nibbled right under your jaw. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

You hummed, too accompanied with your pleasure to respond. You arched into the touch, muffled whines the only thing leaving your throat as Rafe’s fingers traced over your folds, until they found your entrance.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, withdrawing from the crook of your neck. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”

Your face heat up at the words, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the latter. One of his hands slid underneath your shirt, kneading your boob with his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, whether it was the hand guiding your fingers on your clit, or the one squeezing your breasts, it was too much for you to comprehend with a hazy mind and a blurry vision.

He managed to get your shirt off with a bit of shuffling, and a bit of help from you; of course, leaving you in only your bra. His mouth salivated at the sight of your breasts, now half on display, only for him to see.

He swallowed around his throat, fingers toying with the thin material of your bra, using the digits to tug it down, until it exposed your nipple to the chilly air, causing goosebumps to break out across your chest. He rolled it with his thumb, fascinated with how perfectly your boobs sat.

You jolted under his touch, becoming sensitive to the finger flicking your nipple, growing even more surprised when he leaned down, taking your tit in his mouth. His tongue swirled over your now hardened nipple, letting his spit coat a stripe of your chest.

Your back arched into Rafe’smouth, eyes forcing shut as his hand found your back, unclipping your bra with a swift gesture. He let the cloth hang loose around your chest, finger dipping beneath the straps around your shoulders, letting them fall down your sides.

“God,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your boob, while his hand toyed with the other, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. “You’re a fucking mess for me.”

You whined in protest to his words, feeling your pleasure build up, sensing your climax in the process. Rafe’s mouth found your lips once again, capturing them in a lustful kiss. He licked into your mouth, tongue gliding over yours as it met his half way through.

“I think I’m…” you spoke in between kisses, “Rafe– fuck!”

An audible gasp escaped your throat when Rafe circled your entrance, lining his finger up with your hole. And without a warning, he slipped a finger inside, the new found pleasure mixed with pain alluring you into his trap.

This was exactly what he wanted, to have you a flustered mess under his touch, show you how good he could make you feel, even if it was wrong, forbidden; in your words.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, parted lips ghosting over yours. “Wanna fuck you so bad, doll.”

You whined over the statement, picturing the idea of Rafe fucking you stupid, until you no longer were able to remember your name. His finger moved inside you, letting you get used to the digit moving in and out of you. Your hand was back to your side by now, letting Rafe lead you through your built orgasm.

The latter lined another finger with your hole, slowly letting it insert inside you, using his thumb to rub your clit, merely to distract your mind off the pain, and focus on pleasing you. His pace was slow, steady enough it drove you crazy.

His fingers continued pumping in and out of you, with you relaxing into the touch once you slightly got used to the digits stretching you out. Rafe picked up his speed when he noticed that, hand growing sloppy inside your dripping hole.

“Rafe–” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so fuckin’ close.”

He hummed, littering open-mouthed kissed to your lips as you gasped into his mouth when his fingers hit your g stop. And you were so closer, with his fingers inserting in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit, chasing after your pleasure.

Your legs trembled as you came undone, shuddering in Rafe’s arms as he walked you through your orgasm. He slowed down his pace, chuckling as a content hum escaped your throat, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

It was sweet, lingering for only a moment before Rafe pulled away, smug smile ghosting over your lips. He withdrew his fingers from your entrance, with you already missing the warmth of his fingers inside.

He traced his hand over your figure, coming to a halt when he reached your mouth. He parted your lips with his fingers, a silent demand that you shall not deny. You took the digits in your mouth, gliding your tongue over each one, tasting yourself on them.

Rafe smirked, watching you with despair, a look of want you only got to experience whenever he was hitting on other girls. Yet, here he was, fucking you with his fingers until you came undone.

He withdrew his fingers, replacing it with his own mouth as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time to taste you on his lips. He smiled against you, satisfied now that he’s able to savor you whole, having explored every inch of your body; though he knew that wasn’t enough.

“That felt good,” he started, rubbing his thumb over the corner of your face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I must say…” you trailed off, slightly growing flustered by his gaze as it burned holes through your skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You think?” He snickered, thumb brushing over your lips. “Should we give it another go, now that you lost your jerk-off virginity?”

“That’s lame,” You chuckled, a knowing smile suppressing its way across your lips. “Hmm, who knows, maybe that’s not the only virginity I’ll be losing tonight.”

“Okay, that’s a lame way of telling me you want me to take your virginity.” He grinned, amused by the embarrassed shove you gave to his shoulder.

“My god, shut up!” You blushed, hiding your face with your hands. “That’s not what I was sayin’.”

“No yeah, definitely.” He nodded, attempting to get your hands off your face. “Don’t be a brat, baby, look at me.”

Your hold fell loose around your face, letting Rafe move your hands off, revealing the smile tugging at your lips. He mimicked your action, expression switching into something serious, all while maintaining a teasing grin still.

“You know, that wasn’t such a bad idea.” He pecked the corner of your lips, leisurely trailing down to your throat, until he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Maybe we should test it out.”

“Test what out, idiot?” You grinned, tilting your head to give Rafe more access to the side of your neck.

“Lots of stuff,” he muffled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, now that I got a taste of you.”

“So, don’t.” You shot back, mouth moving faster than your brain as you responded. “Don’t hold yourself back, ‘m all yours.”

And that was the only sign Rafe needed, ceasing the distance between you before capturing your lips in a kiss, one you don’t think you’ll be able to forget.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey #rafe cameron smut #obx season 4 #rafe cameron imagine

2K notes · View notes

lemnnshark · 2 years ago

Text

"Coriander is a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with amber eyes."

#warrior cats #coriander #coriander wc #coriander brs #warrior cats designs #loner

15 notes · View notes

marsh-idiot · 2 months ago

Text

Ghostface!Armin Arlert

Looks like you're getting a phone call! Better pick it up, and don't you dare hang up.

Cw: Deáth, múrder, blóod, knífe, smut, dub-con?, Manipulative!Armin (my beloved), men whimpering, orál (reader receiving), f!reader, gender neutral, fear play, bite marks, híckeys, manhándling, creampíe, college!au, hair púlling, tear lícking wc:7.0k

Br-Bring-br-bring!

Your phone rings from the kitchen counter, you walk over and look at the caller ID– “unknown caller” If it’s a scam you’ll just scream into the mic again, it seemed to work last time.

“Hello?” You answer, putting it up to your ear, standing in the kitchen of your apartment; the lights of your apartment bright despite how dark the windows are.

“Hello.” A gravelly voice answers, okay… definitely not a college friend or something.

“Yes?” You say into the phone, trying to prompt whoever is on the other end into telling you why they called you.

“Who is this?” The gravelly voice asks, it’s not like they’re a scam call– should probably just see what they want.

“Who are you tryin’ to reach?” You ask back, not fully wanting to give out your name to a stranger quite yet.

“What number is this?” The voice asks.

“What number are you trying to reach?” You roll your eyes and tilt your head a bit, even though the caller couldn’t see you.

“I don’t know.” The voice says, even lower than before.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number.” You respond, a small smile on your face despite the slight annoyance. “Do I?” The voice asks. “It happens, take it easy.” You press the button to hang up, setting it down on the counter again and going to walk back to your living room; getting a few steps before your phone rings again.

You let out a small groan as you answer it again. “Uh- hello?” You respond, now slightly more annoyed than entertained.

“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.” The voice sounds from the phone again.

“So why’d you dial it again?” You ask, equally amused and annoyed at the phone call that was interrupting your night.

“To apologize.” The voice says, it sounds like the person was smiling on the other end despite their spoken remorse.

“You’re forgiven, bye now.” You smile as you say it, nodding your head as you go to take the phone away from your ear once more.

“Wait wait, don’t hang up.” The voice begs, stopping your motion.

“What?” You ask, turning around– the window behind you drinking up the light from your kitchen like a blackhole.

“I want to talk to you for a second.” The voice purrs into the phone, you narrow your eyes.

“Ugh, they’ve got 900- numbers for that. See ya.” You hang up the phone and step over to your stove, pouring out the packet of popcorn into a pan.

Br-bring-br-bring! Your phone rings again, you roll your eyes and answer it again.

“Hello.” You say, somewhat annoyed at this point.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The gravelly voice asks.

“Who is this?” You ask, covering the pan with a lid as the popcorn starts to pop.

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine.” The voice offers, no way in hell are you telling a random person your name.

You laugh, rolling your eyes at the cheap attempt, “I don’t think so.” The popping gets louder as the pan heats up.

“What’s that noise?” The voice asks.

“Popcorn!” You answer with a smile.

“You’re making popcorn?” The voice asks. “Mhm.” You hum your response as you shake the pan a little. “I only eat popcorn when I’m at the movies.” The voice states.

“Well, I’m getting ready to watch a video.” You say, turning away from your stove and walking over to the other side of your kitchen.

“Really, what?” The voice asks as you lean down on the counter, resting your arms on it.

“Oh just some scary movie.” You shrug with a smile.

“Do you like scary movies?” The voice asks, “u-huh.” You nod. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” The low voice asks.

“Uhh… I don’t know.” You say, shrugging again, tilting your head as your arm props your phone up– your elbow against the counter.

“C’mon you have to have a favorite. What comes to mind?” The voice goads, wanting an answer.

“Uhh… Get out.” You take a knife out of your knife block. “You know the one with the family who trades brains with black people.” You say, holding the knife in between your fingers for a few seconds before dropping it back down in the knife block. Standing up fully.

“Yeah.” The voice hums. “What’s yours?” You ask, walking out of your kitchen and over to the table near your front door and grab the DVD your parents had given you.

“Guess.” The voice says mischievously.

“Uhmm… The Hills Have Eyes?” You guess, shrugging as you walk to your living room.

“Is that the one where the people eat each other?” The voice asks.

“Yeah, the people who got turned into human eating monsters.” You add, slowing down your walk as you talk more with the mysterious person.

“I liked that movie, it was scary.” The voice says.

“The first one was, the remakes were just alright.” You add, finding yourself smiling at the cryptic voice the more you talk.

“So… you got a boyfriend?” The voice asks, and you smile even more before biting your bottom lip.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” You tease, slowly making your way over to your living room.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” The voice asks.

“...No.” You lie. I mean… you were planning on breaking up with Bertholdt tonight anyways, so why not have a backup.

“You never told me your name.” The voice states.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” You tease as you walk over to your Tv, clicking it on and setting the DVD case on top of the stand.

“Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” You still, you feel as if your blood froze inside your veins.

A dog starts to bark, probably one of your neighbors’ dogs. “What did you say?” You ask, looking around to all of the visible windows.

“I wanna know who I’m… talking to.” The voice corrects.

“That’s not what you said.” You state.

“What do you think I said?” You turn on the patio light, looking out– being on the ground floor you could see the woods behind your apartment complex. “What?” The voice asks as you squint, searching through what you could see of the woods. “Hello?” The voice again, snapping you out of your search.

“Look, I gotta go.” You stutter out, locking the door.

“Wait wait, I thought we were gonna go out.” The voice calls out as you turn off the patio light.

“Uhh… nah.” You lock the patio door just in case. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t hang up on me-” You hear the voice say as you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up, still staring out the patio door.

You go to walk back over to your kitchen and your phone rings in your hand again. You stop and wipe your face before answering it again.

“Shit.” You whisper before answering. “Yes?” You try to seem intimidating as you answer.

“I told you not to hang up on me.” The voice growls from the other end.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to sound more annoyed than scared. Maybe this was a prank.

“To talk.” The voice purrs again, switching from such an angry growl to almost playful so easily.

“Well, dial someone else okay?” You hang up before they can say anything back. Walking back to your kitchen as you hear the popcorn no longer popping. You reach for the knob to turn the stove off but your phone rings again in your hand. You’re getting really sick of this.

You bring it up to your ear once more. “Listen, asshole-”

“No you listen, you little bitch, you hang up on me again I’ll gut you like a fish you understand?” The voice sounds from the other side, anger laced into every word of the threat. You look around your apartment, the fear continuing to grow in your stomach. “Hah, yeah…” The voice laughs.

“Is this some kind of joke?” You ask, hoping the voice would say yes. Hoping it was one of your friends and you could have a laugh about this. Fuck, even your boyfriend. Anything other than this being real.

“More of a game, really. Can ya’ handle that… pinky?” Your eyes flick down to your sweater sleeve, baby pink. Utter terror, you run to make sure every door and window is locked in your apartment. Locking the front door’s deadbolt before flicking the window locks of your living room and kitchen closed.

Running to your bedroom and shutting the window you had left open in there. Quickly making your way back over to the kitchen, leaning over your sink to look out the window.

“Can ya’ see me?” The voice asks playfully. Fuck, whoever this is really can see you.

“Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police.” You tell the voice, trying your hardest not to cry.

“They’d never make it in time, it’s a Saturday night.” Fuck, the voice was right, it would take at least an hour for an officer to even get here. You stumble back to press your back against your front door. The sound of the popcorn sizzling completely forgotten.

“What do you want?” You ask through tears.

“To see what your insides look like.” The voice growls through what sounds to be a cheshire cat-like smile. Doubling over as a sob wracks your body, hanging up the call with your thumb. Fumbling your way down the entrance hall to your living room.

Ding-dong! Your old doorbell rings, and you can’t help but yell and turn back to the door. Your apartment was old, the doorbell was connected through exposed wire throughout your whole apartment– which made it all the louder.

“Who’s there? Who’s there!” You call out in a moment of desperation before pulling out your phone again. “I’m calling the police.” But as soon as you can dial one number you get a phone call causing you to yell again. Picking it up and putting it to your ear, feeling helpless.

“You should never say ‘who’s there’, don't you watch scary movies? It’s a deathwish. You might as well come out here to investigate a strange noise or something.” The voice says as you back your way into your living room.

“Look, you’ve had your fun now so I think you better just leave or else.” You hit your leg on the coffee table as you walk backwards, not hard enough to hinder you– just bruise.

“Or else what?” The voice goads.

“Or else my boyfriend’ll be here any second, and he’ll be pissed when he finds out.” You hold your stomach, feeling nauseous from all of the fear.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.” The voice says back.

“I lied! I do have a boyfriend, and he’ll be here any second so your ass better be gone.” A cry makes the end of your sentence turn into a whimper as your tears continue.

“Sure.” The voice goads, almost gently– making all of this worse.

“I swear.” You cry out a little more, taking a breath to yell into the phone, “He’s big and he plays football, and he’ll kick the shit out of you!” You yell out, standing in the middle of the living room. Doesn’t matter if he only started playing football because his friend plays it, he still plays.

“I’m getting scared, I'm shaking in my boots.” They voice toys.

“So you better just leave.” You whimper into the phone.

“His name wouldn’t be… Bertholdt, would it?” The bone chilling voice asks.

“How do you know his name?” Your voice sounds almost silent, your lungs feel like they’re collapsing in on themselves. Your skin burns like you’re in an ice bath, your head feels light.

“Turn on the patio light. Again.” The low gravelly voice says. You flick it on, your sleeve of your sweater over your hand as you do. Looking out to see Bertholdt tied up on one of your patio chairs. His tall frame sat in the chair, his mouth covered with duct tape, his brown hair messy.

“Oh god!” You squeeze the phone in between your head and your shoulder and you unlock the door, pulling it open just an inch before the voice sounds again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” It growls and you shove the door closed, locking the door again.

“Where are you, where are you?” You press your hand against the glass door.

“Guess.” The voice sounds. “Please don’t hurt him.” You beg.

“That all depends on you.” The voice says, clearly smiling through its tone.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, tears streaming down your face.

“I wanna play a game.” You shake your head, crying out a refusal.

“Then he dies right now.” You wail out, blubbering out “No” after “No” Bertholdt starts to yell from under the duct tape covering his mouth. “Which is it?” The voice asks once.

“Which is it?” The voice asks again, this time harder.

“Well… what kind of game?” You ask, the voice almost sounds like it lets out an excited giggle.

“Turn off the light. You’ll see what kind of game. Just do it!” You press your forehead against the glass as Bertholdt starts to beg you not to, his words muffled. Reaching over and flicking off the light, with an arm that felt like it was made of lead. Leaning against the wall and sliding down beside your Tv, crouching next to it.

“Here’s how we play. I ask a question, if you get it right Bertholdt lives.” The voice says as you tug out the lamp cord from the outlet beside you. Your Tv displaying a blue screen into your living room.

“Please don’t do this.” You beg, you feel like it’s the only thing you can say.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” The voice says. “Please.” You interrupt to beg. “It’s an easy category.” The voice continues. “Please.” Your voice is quiet, almost a whine. “Movie trivia. I’ll even give you a warm up question.” The voice offers, like it was a saint for doing so.

“Don’t do this. I can’t.” You plead.

“Name the killers in Get Out.” The voice demands.

“No.” You press your head against the wall, wanting to just disappear into it.

“C’mon, it’s your favorite scary movie, remember.” The voice purrs, it makes you sick how it’s using that against you.

“I don’t know!” You cry quietly, secretly hoping that if you were quiet enough it would disappear.

“C’mon yes you do.” The voice encourages. “I-I can’t..” “Bertholdt’s counting on you.” You swallow, thinking for a moment before answering.

“Arm-armitage family.” You stutter out.

“Yes! Very good.” The voice purrs, you dip your head down as you blink away tears. “Now for the real question.” You had forgotten that was a warm up round, it meant nothing.

“No!” You cry out.

“But you’re doing so well. We can’t stop now.” The voice states.

“Just stop, leave us alone!” You beg, wiping at the tears on your face.

“Then answer the question. Same category.” The voice lowers, now serious.

“Please stop.” You beg.

“Name the killer in Friday the 13th.”

“Jason! Jason! Jason!” You jump up, declaring the answer as you step in front of the glass door again.

“I’m sorry, that’s the wrong answer!” The voice apologises, but it sounds ecstatic as it says it.

“No it’s not. No it’s not. It was Jason.” You turn your back to the door, debating with the mysterious voice.

“Afraid not! No way.” It growls, clearly happy about your mistake.

“Listen, it was Jason. I watched that movie last week with a bunch of college friends!”

“Then you should Jason’s mother, Mrs. Vorhees was the original killer, Jason didn’t show up until the sequel!” The voice spits into the phone as you realize your mistake. “I’m afraid that was a wrong answer…” It trails off.

“You tricked me.” You whine, bumping into the coffee table again.

“Lucky for you there’s a bonus round. But poor Bertholdt… I’m afraid he’s out.” The voice says, gurgling loud enough to hear through the door coming from him as he struggles against the restraints. You dip over to turn on the lights, looking back to see Bertholdt gutted– still mumbling as his head lolls forward. You can’t even get out a noise, just slide down the door and back yourself into the corner again as you hear the voice laugh over the phone.

“Hey, we’re not finished yet.” The voice sounds, you pull the phone back up to your ear and take a breath. “Final question. Are you ready?” You can’t help the shaky breath that your lungs pull in the second you open your mouth.

“Please… please leave me alone.” You whisper out.

“Answer the question and I will. Where am I?” The question confuses and scares you.

“What?” You whisper out.

“Your apartment is big, has a couple rooms, if you answer correctly… you live.” You reach up to grab a screwdriver you had left out when fixing your shelves earlier that week. “Very simple.” The voice says as you shrink back into the corner.

“Please don’t do this. I can’t… I won’t.” You try to reason with it.

“Your call.” You hear a thud from your bedroom, you forgot to lock the window after closing it. You get up and run to the now smoky kitchen, grabbing the knife you had picked up earlier. The popcorn on your stove now a small flame. Ditching the letter opener for the bigger knife, you look down the hall to your bedroom.

Ca-thunk! Something smacks into your window– causing you to spin around to look at it in horror. A bird on your windowsill, shaking before flying away. You forcefully blink before turning back around to see a figure standing in your kitchen. A white mask on, you recognized it as ghostface. Fuck, how didn’t you put two and two together before? And a black robe cascading down the figure.

“Please, no. I don’t wanna die.” You beg, holding the knife out towards it. The figure tilt’s its head at you, then brings a gloved hand up and waves at you. You run at it, shoving your elbow into its chest and pushing as hard as you could. It’s back hitting the front door as you run into your living room. Smacking your hand on the glass door to your patio, dropping your phone to try and unlock it as two hands grab hold of your shoulders.

“No!” You scream as it pulls you away from the door, wrapping its arms around your waist to lift you. Carrying you away from the door, down the hallway to your bedroom. It throws you into your bedroom and closes the door, locking it as well.

“I-please! I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything.” You beg as it pulls a knife from its pocket, holding you onto the ground by a strong hand on your chest, the figure sitting on your legs. It tilts its head and leans down, the mask pushes against your neck as you cry. The knife pressing right underneath your chin as you push your head against the carpet. Your hand on the gloved one holding the knife to your throat, pushing against it.

The figure’s hand comes up to its mask and lifts it just enough for it to drag its tongue across your cheek to collect your tears. Pushing the mask back down before moving back to look down at you. You lift your hips to try and buck the figure off of you, but you just push the figure’s face down to yours and your hips up into a rather big bulge in the figure's pants.

“Please, if you don’t kill me, I’ll never tell anyone. I haven’t even seen your face. I promise, I’ll do anything to live.” You beg, tugging at the black robes as it sits back up– putting more pressure on your legs again.

“You lied to me.” The voice growls, a higher whiney one intertwining with the gravelly one. You give the figure a confused look, your hold on the gloved hand relaxing a little as confusion takes over. “You said you didn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t like liars.” The mask tilts.

“I’m sorry! I only said it because I was going to break up with him, I promise.” You blink the confusion away and start to push against his hand holding the knife again. The hand staying in place, the tip of the curved blade touching your skin just enough to remind you it’s there.

“You want a replacement?” The figure asks, you can hear the hint of the person underneath’s voice and you get an idea.

“Yes! I do. Want-want a replacement. Someone stronger, scarier.” You respond, looking up at the mask with wide eyes. It leans down to you, the mask almost touching your face.

“I don’t believe you, yet.” It whispers at you.

“Promise, wouldn’t lie. Would die if I lied right now.” You tap his hand holding the knife to your neck, shifting your hips under him– feeling him against you again.

“Good job, you’re learning.” The voice purrs, pushing the knife into your skin a little more. Not enough to break skin but enough to scare you.

“Please, don’t kill me. P-promise I won’t turn you in. Won’t tell anyone about this.” You beg, the figure sits back up again. Grabbing the back of your neck and lifting you up enough to take away the hand shoving the knife against your skin to tug your pink sweater off. Throwing it across your room and pushing you back down to the ground.

“Promise?” The voice almost sounds like its mocking your pleas. You nod vigorously, he brings the knife down to your sweatpants and slices the drawstring with one clean movement. You watch with wide eyes, feeling your blood in your body rush around– your heart beating fast and heavy. The figure sits up off of your legs to tug your sweatpants down to your knees, seating himself back down the second they’re far enough down.

The knife presses against your throat again, causing you to cry a little bit. Feeling the sharp tip of the knife against your skin, your body trembling underneath the masked figure. He leans forward again, lifting the mask once you can’t see the bottom of his face. Liking your tears away again, his hips slowly rolling against you. A hum leaving him, his voice no longer low or gravelly. He quickly tugs the mask back down and leans up just enough to look into your eyes.

“You're enjoying this more than you want to admit.” The low gravelly voice claims, rolling his hips against you again and you bite your lips into a small line. You hear the voice laugh a little, a small wicked giggle that sends chills through your bloodstream.

“I’m sad you got the Friday the 13th question wrong, here I was thinking you were enjoying the movie.” The voice laments, the mask tilting to the side in almost a pout.

“I was, I enjoyed it… wait, you were there?” You question, did he slip up and make a fatal mistake? Shit, what if he kills you over this?

“Of course I was, you looked so good all curled up on that couch. Laughing along at everyone’s jokes. Couldn’t get it out of my mind.” He grumbles out, rolling his hips against yours again. You can’t help the rush of blood you feel everywhere, your cheeks heating up and the thin fabric of your underwear slowly getting sticky at the gusset.

“Do-do I know you?” You ask, trying not to give in to the sensation; stilling your hips from pushing off the carpet of your bedroom to lift against his.

“Do you?” The voice mocks as he rolls his hips into you again. “Guess you’ll have to figure it out. Don’t worry, I’ll help.” He rocks his hips into you hard causing you to bite your lip to muffle a whine that escapes from your throat. He leans down, backing up to look at your now soaked underwear with an inscrutable expression due to the mask. Bringing the knife down and slicing your underwear off, and in one clean motion it was in tatters on the ground around you.

You hear his breathing hitch before he brings a gloved hand up to your face and covers your eyes. You hear some fabric shuffling and then you feel it… a hot heaving breath ghost over your thighs and pussy. You can’t help but lift your hips off the ground and towards the sensation. He brings his free hand to your stomach to push you against the ground.

He brings his tongue down and licks a stripe up, swallowing heavily as he pulls away and tugs the mask back down to grunt out. “So sweet, fuck, addicting.” The gravelly voice heaves out, his legs propped in between yours to keep you open, fighting to not squeeze shut to give him some pressure. He tugs the mask back up and leans back down, all but attacking your mess of a cunt as he shoves his tongue through your lips.

“Fuck, feels so good.” You puff out, wondering how experienced he was to be this good. He greedily laps away, you feel his eyes boring into you as he surveys every little movement and noise you make.

He flattens his tongue on you, you feel his nose bump your clit and your body jolts at the sensation. His tongue warm and inviting, you start to narrow down the people you know who could be capable of such strength. Not Eren, he has a metal tongue piercing you would’ve noticed right away.

He brings the tip of his tongue up to your clit, circling around it before pushing down and your back arches at the feeling. “Ah– please…” You bite your lip, your hands gripping the arm that was covering your eyes currently. You feel him pull back and you can’t help but let out a pathetic whine at the loss of heat. A string of glistening spit snapping as he pulls away.

Tugging his mask down as hard and quick as possible to rasp out, “So wet… all f’r me?” As he replaces his tongue with his thumb, dragging it up and down your folds as the fabric of the glove soaks not even a small portion of it up– his thumb on the inside now drenched and smelling of you. He circles it around your bud gently, just enough to get you to squirm.

And squirm you do. “Please, want it so badly. Want you.” You grip his arm tighter, and his resolve all but snaps. He tugs the mask back up, your whines of his thumb being pulled away quickly interrupted by moans as he shoves his tongue into you. Somehow reaching so deep with it that you swear it was impossible. His nose bumping against your aching clit, his free hand squeezing the fat of your thigh, kneading at the muscle.

“Oh fuck, feels so good. So good at this.” You whimper out, feeling him rut his hips down. His hot huge cock pressed against your leg through his pants. You feel him dive even deeper into your sopping wet cunt, his hair tickling at your skin. You bring a hand down to yank at his hair. A high pitched whine leaving him, his grip on your thigh tightening.

“Please, more.” You moan out, tugging his head up to your clit. Feeling him take a sinful sniff as you move him, his tongue retreating from your walls to lick at your red bud. His face pressed against you as he slurps and nips at your swollen clit. A huff leaving you as you feel your brain start to turn to mush, feeling your body start to tingle angrily. Your hips lifting to grind against his face. He hallows his cheeks as he sucks at you, tumbling you over the edge with a loud yell.

He greedily laps his tongue on you as your back arches off the ground, his hand on your thigh snaking up to support you. The cold sticky feeling of your own wetness feeling like ice against your hot skin as you ride out your orgasm. You pant out as you finally start to come down from your orgasm, your eyes blinking open to the dark glove still covering your face.

Your brain feeling like jello as you feel him lower your back onto the ground once more. Pulling back from your pussy with pained breaths. Gulping in air as if he was deep sea diving, did he breathe that entire time?

“Fuck–” You hear a higher pitched voice almost whimper before he presses his lips into yours hard. A deep passionate kiss, filled with your own release on his tongue as he pushes it into your mouth. Sucking at your tongue, grinding his bulge into your sensitive cunt as you shiver. Your hands pull at his hair again to hear his high pitched whine. Your brows furrowed as your fucked out mind tries to figure out who the fuck that is.

“Taste so good. Think ‘m addicted.” He whispers against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip– licking it gently after he lets go. “Just means I’ll have ta’ come back to it later.” He connects your lips again, shoving his tongue past your lips; you feel yourself suffocating in the sensation, but not wanting to pull away.

Gliding your hand through your hair, it stops just a little past where his ears start, his undercut neatly shaven. “If… if you’re going to come back later, you-you can take that hand away from my face.” You pant out, your lungs utterly parched for air at this point.

“That’ll be your treat for being good.” He whispers, you hear some fabric fumbling around and then feel him swap his hand on your face for his other one and flip you around. Propping yourself up with wobbly forearms and knees that he promptly pushes further apart.

He leans down to press his face in the crook of your neck, his wet chin chilling your skin as he presses a soft gentle kiss to your neck. A stark contrast to how roughly his now naked length grinds against you.

“Promise I’ll be good. Can’t… can’t just let you walk away if you’re this good. Almost made me see stars.” You push back, grinding your hips against him in return. He sucks gently on your neck, holding your shirt collar out of the way before quickly taking his hand off of your face to tug your shirt off before covering your eyes again.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you see stars.” He drags his tip up and down your sensitive swollen lips, a whimper leaving him as he buries his face into your neck. His leaking red tip pressing against your entrance. His free hand holding your hips in place as he slowly pushes in, huffing against your neck.

“Fuck, too-too much.” You whine, shifting forward to try and escape the splitting feeling coming from your walls.

“You can do it.” He grunts out, biting down gently on your neck. Holding you in place, pulling you back on him. He feels impossibly long, and so thick it’s driving you crazy.

“Don’t-don’t think-don’t think I can.” You drop your head against the ground, your eyes watering under his glove as you squeeze your eyes shut. His hand over your eyes pulls your head back up as he slows down and licks your tears away. Your breath almost completely stolen as you swear you can feel his tip poking at your lungs.

“Shh, you got this. Just a tiny bit more.” He pushes in the rest, his hand on your waist going down to hold your stomach. His chest pushed onto your back, small huffs coming from the both of you as you try to relax around him.

“So big, Jesus fuck.” You pant out, heavy thick breaths.

He leans his head down again into your neck and gently kisses away. “I know, take it so well. Feel so good around me, so good.” He mumbles in between kisses, running his hand over your stomach gently as he tries to soothe you. You take a few deep breaths, relaxing around him slowly as you adjust to his size.

He sucks away at your neck, too caught up in your scent to notice the way you relax around him. You rock your hips back onto him, grinding him inside of you to nudge at your bulbous g-spot.

“Coulda’ just said you wanted some motion, lovely.” He grunts, lifting his upper body off you as his hand on your stomach retreats. You can feel him shallowly thrust, your wetness and his precum collecting at his base in a sinful dripping circle around him.

You feel the cold point of his blade drag down your back, circling and pressing ever so slightly more into your skin as he thrusts in again. A gasp leaving you as his mushroom tip presses against your g-spot, your walls clenching as he pulls away to thrust even deeper.

“Fuck, feels–” You’re rudely interrupted by a hiccup before continuing, “So goood.” He tosses the knife to grip your hips again, bending back down to press his face into your neck. Inhaling so deeply you forgot what the noise was for a second until you felt his hot breath ghost over your skin. Your forehead starting to drip sweat, you can feel his hair start to stick to any skin it can touch as he sets a forgiving– almost caring– rhythm.

You can feel his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust, his gloved hand covering your eyes pushing you back down on his cock with every thrust. Your mouth lolling open as you clench around him. His cock twitching inside you, bumping his head against your cervix with a dizzying thump, thump, thump!

“Ah-fuck! Feels so good, keep-hck!-keep going please.” You beg, barely able to close your mouth to speak, your jaw hanging wide open as he sucks a deep purple hickey onto your neck. You can feel his veiny long length draaag against your walls with each thrust of his hips.

“C-clenching ‘round me so nicely, fuck.” He mumbles into your neck, biting down to stop a whimper from escaping. You feel yourself grow even more wet at the small burst of pain, and he does too. Speeding up his thrusts as he starts to litter your neck in small bite marks.

“Please, want-wanna cum. Please!” You moan out, your mouth falling open as you start to drool from the pleasure. He aims his hips and slams into your g-spot at a bruising pace.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Leaving your throat at every connection of his mushroom tip to your insides. Your walls clenching around him as you feel your body start to turn to mush, your arms holding you up growing tired– almost sore. He trails his hand on your hips to your back for a moment to puuush you down into an arch that makes him crazy.

Each thrust of his pushing more and more of his precum out of you– it gently hits your carpet with a soft plat! each time; a growing puddle of intoxicatingly sweet liquid that you’ll have to clean when you can stand again.

“Almost there, can feel you getting close.” He mumbles around your skin, sucking and biting near your pulse point. You can’t even bring yourself to form a response, your mind filled with him too. You feel him take his hand off your hips, his thrusts continuing as he removes his hand from in front of your eyes. Instead grabbing a fist full of hair to keep your head from lolling forward.

“Let me see that pretty little face, darling.” The gravelly voice says before you’re blinded by a flash of light– a camera pointed at you two. His arm retreats from its position as he continues to thrust into you.

“Fuck, you look so good. Gonna hav’ta keep this one in my nightstand.” He says in his normal voice, his hips moving at such a punishing pace the only thing keeping you from scooting forward away from each thrust was his hand holding your hair tightly. He leans down again, kissing at your neck, each thrust making him whine against your skin.

“P-plea…please.” You manage out, your knees getting weak from the position. You feel him widen your stance even more before somehow going even deeper.

“God, fuck. Shoulda’ done this sooner. Sho-should’ve taken you after you leaned against me f’r the whole movie. Gigglin’ and playing with… with my hoodie strings.” He rambles as he starts to near his edge. Your brain finally clicks it into place through the haze of sex.

“A-Armin?” You whimper out, turning your head just enough to get a glance of his blond locks, stuck to his forehead.

“Heh– yeah. Hey,” His grip on your hair tightens and he tugs your head back even more. Bringing his head around to suck at your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin. “...pretty.”

“Fuck! Armin!” You yell and he twitches inside of you, smearing more of his precum across your cervix as he slams his head into it over and over again at a bruising pace.

“Just-fuck-you just got even wetter.” He continues his bruising pace and you feel your body start to stiffen as you near your release. Thump, thump, thump, thump it feels like your heart rate and his pace is one in the same. He tugs your head back and connects your lips, his sweaty blond hair sticking to you as he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

You moan into his mouth as he moves to suck on your tongue, his hips slapping against the curve of your ass with each thrust in his punishing rhythm. He pulls away just enough to bite down on your bottom lip, the pain sending you tumbling over the edge.

“Fuck, just like that.” He mumbles out around your lip as you milk him, continuing his pace as you ride out your orgasm. A small droplet of blood drips from your lip into his mouth. The iron taste sending him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he whimpers against your mouth.

Wispy hot velvety ropes spilling into you as you come down from your high, his hips continuing to stutter as his release drips out of you with each shallow thrust. Your body collapsing under his, him following on top of you. He releases his hand in your hair to run his hands over your side gently.

“Think… think I blacked out for a second.” You whisper out, too tired to actually speak. He laughs against your neck, gently kissing all the marks he had made.

“Told you I’d make you see stars.” He smiles against your skin, his hands gently trailing over your body. You shiver, finally cooling off as you lay against the carpet of your bedroom. He pulls out of you, a whine leaving you as he does. His cock dripping with a mix of your releases, a sight he can't peel his eyes away from.

You glance back. “Need to clean off?” You watch as he smiles and kneels in front of you.

“Clean it for me?” He tilts his head, holding his softening cock in front of your face with a smirk. Lifting your head up by your chin, you dart your tongue out to lick him clean. Small whines coming from him as you trace each vein down his long shaft, his hand going to your hair to cradle your head.

“Fuck, careful. Made me so sensitive.” He tightens his grip on your face as you slowly lick across his tip, eyes locked on his as you do so. “Fuckin’ whore.” He smiles down at you, wiping away a small dribble of drool you didn’t even notice was running down your face.

You wrap your lips around his tip lazily before he pulls you off. “Another time, I’ll definitely be back.” He smiles down at you, his thumb rubbing over your cheek gently.

“Maybe without the murder next time?” You try to lift yourself, your arm wobbly as you prop it on the carpet. He moves behind you again, lifting you with ease and laying you out on your bed.

“No promises, have to make sure no one gets in my way.” He leans down, licking the spit on your chin away. “Don’t worry, it’s all gone by now. Like he was never even there.” He stands up, the black robe covering him as he leaves the room. Coming back a few minutes later with a cup of water and a dopey smile.

He lifts you up and tilts the cup against your mouth as you drink from it, placing it on your nightstand when you are done. Tucking the blanket over your naked body gently before walking over to his pants, quickly slipping them on.

“Sleep well, pretty.” He kisses your forehead before leaving. You turn over in bed and feel a cold metal thing hit your chest. Bringing your hand up to it and looking down, a shell necklace to match his own, now around your neck. Another way of him marking you to come back to.

divider by @/cafekutsune @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl your wish is my command <3

693 notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 2 years ago

Text

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light.

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look.

“Hello to you too...”

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?”

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?”

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest.

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!”

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and--

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening.

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look.

“I’m literally offering to help you.”

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?”

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air.

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.”

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters.

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...

But the essay...

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands.

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled.

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.”

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently.

Oh?

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face.

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down.

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.”

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush.

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies.

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-”

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh.

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly.

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.”

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?”

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More?

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right.

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?”

You flush.

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“I made you cum three times, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear.

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.”

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.”

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Who’s that for?”

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan.

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable.

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in.

“Look at that,” he breathes.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them.

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance.

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more.

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently.

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather.

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!”

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit.

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well.

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.”

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming.

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want.

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster.

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest.

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.”

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry.

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins.

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip.

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying.

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down.

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.

“Feel better?”

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt.

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?”

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.”

“What kind of tears?”

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you.

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—”

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine

3K notes · View notes