#block friday deals

[unboxingproductreview]

Block friday 2024 Block friday sale

Planning For Black Friday Deals

How To Research Black Friday Deals

Start by researching the best deals and promotions offered by various retailers.

Browse through websites, social media platforms, and deal forums to find the most attractive discounts.

Take note of the products you’re interested in and the prices they are usually sold for.

Compare prices across different stores to ensure you’re getting the best value for your money.

Look out for any additional discounts or coupons that can be applied to further reduce the price.

[peapod20001]

"literal corpse" PEA??? Am I missing some context? 😢 /lh

Maybe? Obviously I can’t know what you know lol but p much I just drew an oc but dead. That’s what literal corpse means. She’s just dead </3

[sweet-as-kiwis]

I’ve come to the conclusion no one should dorm with someone whose name ends in ‘ace’

[eunique]

Hey 2023,

Can I have some peace and quiet for 5 FUCKING MINUTES

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Leveraged buyouts are not like mortgages

I'm coming to DEFCON! On FRIDAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Here's an open secret: the confusing jargon of finance is not the product of some inherent complexity that requires a whole new vocabulary. Rather, finance-talk is all obfuscation, because if we called finance tactics by their plain-language names, it would be obvious that the sector exists to defraud the public and loot the real economy.

Take "leveraged buyout," a polite name for stealing a whole goddamned company:

Identify a company that owns valuable assets that are required for its continued operation, such as the real-estate occupied by its outlets, or even its lines of credit with suppliers;

Approach lenders (usually banks) and ask for money to buy the company, offering the company itself (which you don't own!) as collateral on the loan;

Offer some of those loaned funds to shareholders of the company and convince a key block of those shareholders (for example, executives with large stock grants, or speculators who've acquired large positions in the company, or people who've inherited shares from early investors but are disengaged from the operation of the firm) to demand that the company be sold to the looters;

Call a vote on selling the company at the promised price, counting on the fact that many investors will not participate in that vote (for example, the big index funds like Vanguard almost never vote on motions like this), which means that a minority of shareholders can force the sale;

Once you own the company, start to strip-mine its assets: sell its real-estate, start stiffing suppliers, fire masses of workers, all in the name of "repaying the debts" that you took on to buy the company.

This process has its own euphemistic jargon, for example, "rightsizing" for layoffs, or "introducing efficiencies" for stiffing suppliers or selling key assets and leasing them back. The looters – usually organized as private equity funds or hedge funds – will extract all the liquid capital – and give it to themselves as a "special dividend." Increasingly, there's also a "divi recap," which is a euphemism for borrowing even more money backed by the company's assets and then handing it to the private equity fund:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

If you're a Sopranos fan, this will all sound familiar, because when the (comparatively honest) mafia does this to a business, it's called a "bust-out":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out

The mafia destroys businesses on a onesy-twosey, retail scale; but private equity and hedge funds do their plunder wholesale.

It's how they killed Red Lobster:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

And it's what they did to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

It's what happened to nursing homes, Armark, private prisons, funeral homes, pet groomers, nursing homes, Toys R Us, The Olive Garden and Pet Smart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

It's what happened to the housing co-ops of Cooper Village, Texas energy giant TXU, Old Country Buffet, Harrah's and Caesar's:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

And it's what's slated to happen to 2.9m Boomer-owned US businesses employing 32m people, whose owners are nearing retirement:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken

Now, you can't demolish that much of the US productive economy without attracting some negative attention, so the looter spin-machine has perfected some talking points to hand-wave away the criticism that borrowing money using something you don't own as collateral in order to buy it and wreck it is obviously a dishonest (and potentially criminal) destructive practice.

The most common one is that borrowing money against an asset you don't own is just like getting a mortgage. This is such a badly flawed analogy that it is really a testament to the efficacy of the baffle-em-with-bullshit gambit to convince us all that we're too stupid to understand how finance works.

Sure: if I put an offer on your house, I will go to my credit union and ask the for a mortgage that uses your house as collateral. But the difference here is that you own your house, and the only way I can buy it – the only way I can actually get that mortgage – is if you agree to sell it to me.

Owner-occupied homes typically have uncomplicated ownership structures. Typically, they're owned by an individual or a couple. Sometimes they're the property of an estate that's divided up among multiple heirs, whose relationship is mediated by a will and a probate court. Title can be contested through a divorce, where disputes are settled by a divorce court. At the outer edge of complexity, you get things like polycules or lifelong roommates who've formed an LLC s they can own a house among several parties, but the LLC will have bylaws, and typically all those co-owners will be fully engaged in any sale process.

Leveraged buyouts don't target companies with simple ownership structures. They depend on firms whose equity is split among many parties, some of whom will be utterly disengaged from the firm's daily operations – say, the kids of an early employee who got a big stock grant but left before the company grew up. The looter needs to convince a few of these "owners" to force a vote on the acquisition, and then rely on the idea that many of the other shareholders will simply abstain from a vote. Asset managers are ubiquitous absentee owners who own large stakes in literally every major firm in the economy. The big funds – Vanguard, Blackrock, State Street – "buy the whole market" (a big share in every top-capitalized firm on a given stock exchange) and then seek to deliver returns equal to the overall performance of the market. If the market goes up by 5%, the index funds need to grow by 5%. If the market goes down by 5%, then so do those funds. The managers of those funds are trying to match the performance of the market, not improve on it (by voting on corporate governance decisions, say), or to beat it (by only buying stocks of companies they judge to be good bets):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/17/shareholder-socialism/#asset-manager-capitalism

Your family home is nothing like one of these companies. It doesn't have a bunch of minority shareholders who can force a vote, or a large block of disengaged "owners" who won't show up when that vote is called. There isn't a class of senior managers – Chief Kitchen Officer! – who have been granted large blocks of options that let them have a say in whether you will become homeless.

Now, there are homes that fit this description, and they're a fucking disaster. These are the "heirs property" homes, generally owned by the Black descendants of enslaved people who were given the proverbial 40 acres and a mule. Many prosperous majority Black settlements in the American South are composed of these kinds of lots.

Given the historical context – illiterate ex-slaves getting property as reparations or as reward for fighting with the Union Army – the titles for these lands are often muddy, with informal transfers from parents to kids sorted out with handshakes and not memorialized by hiring lawyers to update the deeds. This has created an irresistible opportunity for a certain kind of scammer, who will pull the deeds, hire genealogists to map the family trees of the original owners, and locate distant descendants with homeopathically small claims on the property. These descendants don't even know they own these claims, don't even know about these ancestors, and when they're offered a few thousand bucks for their claim, they naturally take it.

Now, armed with a claim on the property, the heirs property scammers force an auction of it, keeping the process under wraps until the last instant. If they're really lucky, they're the only bidder and they can buy the entire property for pennies on the dollar and then evict the family that has lived on it since Reconstruction. Sometimes, the family will get wind of the scam and show up to bid against the scammer, but the scammer has deep capital reserves and can easily win the auction, with the same result:

https://www.propublica.org/series/dispossessed

A similar outrage has been playing out for years in Hawai'i, where indigenous familial claims on ancestral lands have been diffused through descendants who don't even know they're co-owner of a place where their distant cousins have lived since pre-colonial times. These descendants are offered small sums to part with their stakes, which allows the speculator to force a sale and kick the indigenous Hawai'ians off their family lands so they can be turned into condos or hotels. Mark Zuckerberg used this "quiet title and partition" scam to dispossess hundreds of Hawai'ian families:

https://archive.is/g1YZ4

Heirs property and quiet title and partition are a much better analogy to a leveraged buyout than a mortgage is, because they're ways of stealing something valuable from people who depend on it and maintain it, and smashing it and selling it off.

Strip away all the jargon, and private equity is just another scam, albeit one with pretensions to respectability. Its practitioners are ripoff artists. You know the notorious "carried interest loophole" that politicians periodically discover and decry? "Carried interest" has nothing to do with the interest on a loan. The "carried interest" rule dates back to 16th century sea-captains, and it refers to the "interest" they had in the cargo they "carried":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/29/writers-must-be-paid/#carried-interest

Private equity managers are like sea captains in exactly the same way that leveraged buyouts are like mortgages: not at all.

And it's not like private equity is good to its investors: scams like "continuation funds" allow PE looters to steal all the money they made from strip mining valuable companies, so they show no profits on paper when it comes time to pay their investors:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/20/continuation-fraud/#buyout-groups

Those investors are just as bamboozled as we are, which is why they keep giving more money to PE funds. Today, the "dry powder" (uninvested money) that PE holds has reached an all-time record high of $2.62 trillion – money from pension funds and rich people and sovereign wealth funds, stockpiled in anticipation of buying and destroying even more profitable, productive, useful businesses:

https://www.institutionalinvestor.com/article/2di1vzgjcmzovkcea8f0g/portfolio/private-equitys-dry-powder-mountain-reaches-record-height

The practices of PE are crooked as hell, and it's only the fact that they use euphemisms and deceptive analogies to home mortgages that keeps them from being shut down. The more we strip away the bullshit, the faster we'll be able to kill this cancer, and the more of the real economy we'll be able to preserve.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/05/rugged-individuals/#misleading-by-analogy

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / FINAL

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, please be cautious as always! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

The weight on your shoulders was heavy and exhausting. It caused your body and soul to ache with a crushing feeling of grief. Your conversation with Price played in your mind tenfold, repeating over and over until it drove you to the point of insanity. You feared if you stayed stuck in the loop for a moment longer, your brain might short circuit and you’d succumb to life’s torturous game.

How had things come to this?

Two weeks ago, you should’ve been dead. Two weeks ago, you should’ve denied Ghost’s abrupt deal, you should’ve told him the truth – that you had no intentions of living past that very Friday the two of you planned meticulously to end your life.

Two weeks ago, you should’ve never met Simon.

What was meant to be a task given to you with the purpose of self healing had erupted into an even scarier nightmare. Life would’ve never been so complicated had you denied Simon and stuck to your original plan on desired death. It would’ve never been so complicated had you just done it all yourself instead of pussying out and asking him to finish the job for you.

Now, all that remained was a heart beyond repair, fragments of its shattered pieces being taken away with Simon when he had left.

He had the entirety of your heart, and you didn’t think you’d ever get it back. You couldn’t take it back if you wanted to. It belonged to him, and your heart was loyal to its owner.

All that was left was the, what now? Price had made it clear he couldn’t promise anything. Hell, you wouldn’t blame him if he had just said that in a half-assed attempt of comfort. For all you knew, Simon hadn’t a clue what was going on in the first place, or perhaps he didn’t care. Living without closure of what could’ve been had left you scarred and untrusting, even of the very man you’d fallen in love with.

Love was what always got you into this mess, after all. You couldn’t love yourself, so God was executing punishment by making you unlovable to everyone else. If anything, you should be thanking him for steering you away from more heartache.

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Simon giving you a taste of what life could be if you had just tried harder, before pulling the candy right out of your mouth before you could protest that you weren’t quite finished with it.

You didn’t reach out to Simon. Even though you were blocked from the moment the two of you had sex and he ran, you didn’t dare try and test out your theory to see if he had undone his action. You weren’t even sure you knew what you could say to him.

While it was clear Price played a dirty hand in creating the drift between the two of you, Simon still allowed himself to be a puppet on Price’s string. It boiled you to the core, filled you with resentful distaste that you couldn’t quite swallow.

It was hard to accept that you hated him almost as much as you loved him.

No matter how angry you were at the world for the hand it was dealing you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. Not on your own. Even through the hole of emptiness that rattled you to the bone, a spark of hope shone from deep within you, and that was what kept you going. It was the faintest of light, fighting to stay ablaze. No matter how puny and weak it was, it was still there, cheering you on in a gentle voice to keep going.

As much as you didn’t want to listen, you did.

Life’s a bitch and then you die. But maybe if you gave it one final chance at redemption, things may work out in your favor this time. And if they didn’t? The original plan was always in the cards.

Simon left Price in the dust the moment he uttered those words. Go and get your bird back, Simon.

He had never heard something so beautiful, so breathtaking. It was his call back home, and he’d be an absolute tool if he didn’t rush to return to its welcoming arms.

He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked running along the streets in the middle of the night. Hell, he didn’t even bother to put his mask on. Tonight, he was Simon, and he was wearing his identity with pride. Ghost was tucked away in the darkest depths of his mind, caged in and hidden. With you, he didn’t want to be Ghost. He didn’t want to be a man who thrived off of the stolen lives of the innocent in order to pay his bills. He didn’t want to be the broken version of himself that imprisoned his own vulnerability.

He wanted to be the man who could give you a colorful life filled with painted sunsets and warm rays. Only Simon could do that, and he’d throw Ghost away if that was what it took.

The closer Simon got to your apartment, the more the nerves wracked his body with a faint tremor. Would you even speak to him? Forgive him? He knew he didn’t deserve it. Hell, he deserved a cold fist to the jaw and a stab wound to the heart.

The least he could do was try.

He pondered if he should get you something. Flowers, maybe, but when it came down to it, flowers were a pathetic excuse for an apology. No, Simon wanted to do this right. He had spent his entire life partaking in wrongdoings. For once, just once, he wanted to be good.

The sight of your building nearly had him throwing up on the concrete beneath his boots. It turned his stomach in a sickeningly sweet way, coating his tongue with bitter cottonmouth. For the first time since he could remember, Simon was scared. Downright terrified.

While the feeling should be seen in a negative light, he saw it as the complete opposite. It meant he was alive. He was still human. He still harbored emotions that Ghost had so desperately tried to get rid of.

Even after everything, he was still Simon.

His feet grew heavier and heavier with every step he took into your building, up the raggedy stairs, and down the dim hall, just like the routine he had always fallen into when waiting for you to return from work. Things may be different now, and he may be venturing on the same path with a different ending this time, but that didn’t mean he was led astray. Different could mean better, and he could only pray to the very God putting him through hell that his outcome would be brighter than before.

Simon didn’t know how long he stood outside of your door. He willed himself to knock, but he was struggling internally. The truth was, he was scared to see you. Seeing you meant facing the result of his regretful actions, and he wasn’t sure he could handle recognizing you as broken because of him.

He dug this grave, he wallowed in it, and now it was time to crawl his way out and make things right.

His fist shook as he raised it to knock on the door. Knuckles collided with the old wood, echoing sharply in his ears. Anxiety crept into his bones, leaving him in an uncomfortable suffocation. He felt as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe until you were in front of him. The room felt small, it was closing in on him. He wondered if this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve just left you alone, maybe he should’ve kept you out of his mess–

“Simon?”

The air that was tightening in his lungs exhaled in a slow, trembling breath, shoulders going slack from their tightly wound stiffness. Your voice was his oxygen, and he could finally breathe again.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and God, did it feel jubilating to say that name again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, and the bitterness in your tone was clear. It sunk into him like a thousand knives, coursing him with relentless pain.

“I need to fix this,” he gasped out. “Please, sweetheart, let me fix this. I know I fucked up, alright? I fucked up bad.”

You stared at him in disdain, but Simon could see the glimmer of a burning ache in your eyes that matched his own. You missed him just as much as he missed you, but your hurt overruled everything else. He didn’t blame you one bit.

“You left me after you had sex with me, Simon,” you spat with dripping fire that scorched him with every word. “You left me after everything. You expect me to just let you come here and tell me you fucked up, as if I didn’t know that?”

Simon could feel his resolve slipping away. He wanted to panic, to spit out useless apologies until one of them worked and you caved, but that wasn’t how this was going to go. Simon would have to work for it, and he’d be damned if he let you slip away. He’d spend the rest of his life working for it if it meant having you in the end.

“Sweetheart–”

“Fucking– I’m not doing this in my doorway. Just… just come inside,” you sighed out, utterly defeated. You didn’t have to tell Simon twice. He stepped into your apartment cautiously, letting you know that you were in complete control. You were in charge, and Simon was here to take the beatdown, no matter how painful it may be.

Upon entering, your apartment was in havoc. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t disgusting or revolting, but it was clear you spent most of your days cooped up in your room. Simon felt guilt eat away at him from the mere sight alone.

“Tell me how I can fix this,” Simon pleaded. Everything about his body language was desperate, distressed. His hands spoke for him, moving animatedly, unable to control himself. He was begging. For the first time in his life, he was begging.

“I’m not telling you how to fix anything, Simon. You’re the one supposed to fix it on your own. I’m not going to do it for you,” you explained in eerie calmness, but it was unmistakingly exhaustion. He couldn’t imagine how much he had put you through.

He knew you were right. This was Simon’s responsibility, and begging you for the cure would be easy on him and harder for you. He couldn’t allow that to happen. You’d already been burdened enough.

Simon stared at you, eyes glossed over, eyebrows pulled together from his stir of emotions. The way you stared back was empty, and it broke his heart that he was the reason for the light going out so soon after gaining it back.

He contemplated what to do. There were many ways this could go sideways, and he couldn’t risk that. He had to pick what was right in his heart, even if it meant shoving away the pride he’d grown accustomed to over the years of being alone and hollow.

Simon slowly got down on his knees, hands clasped in his lap, and he gazed up at you in woe. He was baring himself to you completely, stripping himself of all defenses, and succumbing to vulnerability. Never had Simon gotten on his knees for another person. His ego was too large, and he refused to let himself express weakness.

For you, he’d hang himself dry.

“What are you–”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice soft yet broken, brimming with anguish. “I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. Nothin’ I say will make it better. I can’t change it, no matter how much I wish I could. I fucked up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness for leavin’ you the way I did, for hurtin’ you like everybody else has done. I gave you an empty promise, and even then, I broke it.”

You were speechless from where you stood, peering down at this burly man on his knees for you. Your eyes never strayed away from his, and you recognized the familiar spark of despair in them. They looked just like yours every time you looked in the reflection. He was a mirror of you, just as you were a mirror of him.

“I was scared of losin’ you because of my job. I didn’t think a sweet thing like you deserved to be involved with a man like me. I didn’t want you hurt,” he explained, and the faintest crack in his voice showed you just how hard this was for him as well. You weren’t the only one suffering the consequences.

“Yet you hurt me anyway,” you whispered brokenly, and Simon deflated.

“I know,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I know, sweetheart. I let my fear control me, and it caused me to make things worse. It wasn’t fair t’you. I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”

Your own resolve was faltering. You wanted so badly to be angry, to kick him out and be done with him. Strip him from your life and return to your days of wallowing in loneliness and misery.

You couldn’t. Every word was like a small bandaid over a too-big wound, but it was an attempt. He was trying. Nobody had ever tried with you before.

“Y’know,” you began, voice as soft as a whisper. “One of your boys came by to see me. Price.”

Simon blinked, surprise morphing on to his face. He swallowed anxiously, fists squeezing in his lap before he forced them to relax.

“And?”

You stared at him for a moment, shifting through your words in your mind.

“He tried to get me to cut you off. Tell you that I was better off, that I didn’t want you around anymore. He thought it would be best,” you finished quietly, shifting your eyes away from him in a moment of guilt. You weren’t sure why you were feeling it, but you’d recognize that uncomfortable lump in your throat anywhere. “I told him no.”

Simon’s eyebrows raised, eyes darting over your face to read your expression. “You did?”

“Yeah,” you confessed, shifting uncomfortably. “Told him… told him you didn’t deserve that.”

His heart ached painfully in his chest. What a lovely woman you were, defending him even after he had wronged you. How stupid he was for letting his own past misfortunes creep into the present.

He should be mad at Price for invading in on his personal business, but if he didn’t, Simon might not be here right now, kneeling before you and pleading for forgiveness. Price gave him an in, he gave him a chance, even if he went behind his back to do so.

Go and get your bird back, Simon.

It made sense now. Simon nearly laughed in bitter humor.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured gently, finally gaining your gaze back. Your eyes had softened from their hardened walls you built back up again, and he prayed he had a chance. “I know it’s not goin’ to fix anythin’. You’re still angry with me, and you have every right t’be. But if you still decide to throw me out, to never speak t’me again, then I want you t’know that I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, chest pulling tight. A mixture of pain and relief coursed through your veins, and you weren’t sure which emotion to listen to. You weren’t sure what was right, but there was one thing you were sure of, and it was that you loved him, too. Heartbreakingly so.

“You do?” you whispered in uncertainty.

Simon rose from his kneeled position, taking a cautious step towards you. When you didn’t back away, he seized the opportunity to cradle your hands in his, holding them to his heart. “I do,” he repeated softly. “I’m not good at this, sweetheart. I’ve done a lot of terrible things. I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, yet loving somebody has always been the hardest thing to do. With you, it feels easy.”

You stared up at him, searching for any signs of dishonesty. What stared back at you was pure truth, his eyes flooding with a new light that promised love and confidence.

Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you responded, “I love you, too. Even though I should hate you.”

For the first time since seeing him, Simon smiled. It was a boyish smile, one you’d never seen before, and it lit your entire world up. The sun was back out, the flowers were blooming, birds were chirping, and nature was at peace. It tugged on your heartstrings and pulled away all of the hurt that had resided inside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. It brought you back to the first time the two of you shared a kiss, and the memory was fond. Despite all of the troubles and heartache, Simon was true to his word. Even if the world had failed the two of you, now was the time to change life’s course and rewrite your own future.

“Yes,” you sighed breathlessly.

Simon’s kiss was as familiar as before, but this time, it felt much more intimate. It was burning passion simmered down to tenderness, his hands cradling your face with the utmost care, treating you like frail china. He didn’t push or prod and instead moved with you rather than take control, letting you handle the reins this time.

It was a slow dance rather than a waltz, steady and unceasing.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah?” he breathed against your lips, and you could feel the curl of his smile. You opened your eyes to peer into his own, unable to contain your own smile.

His lips returned to yours, and you melted into him. All that weight had been lifted so easily. All the rage had dissipated into nothing, being replaced with a warm, glowing light that filled your chest and threatened to burst.

This was all you wanted – to be content. To be happy.

You didn’t want to spend your days, awaiting an early death that would never come, nor did you want to waste it being burdened by the past that haunted you like a demonic spirit. This felt right.

When more and more feeling poured into the kiss, it shifted into something more starved, like two lovers who’d been separated for years. While you were falling into it, Simon was reluctant. Pulling away from you, you had a brief moment of uncertainty before he spoke.

“I don’t want to rush you like I did last time,” he explained gently. “The last thing I want is for you t’feel pressured. I’m not here for only that. M’here to fix this.”

“Simon,” you murmured, a warm smile on your face. “I know you aren’t. I want to do it. Is that okay?”

Simon stared at you for a moment, weighing out his options. While having sex was part of the reason the two of you ended up in this mess, it was the part after that really played a role. This time, things would be different.

“‘Course that’s okay, sweetheart,” he assured, returning your smile.

He was careful in guiding you to your room. While anxiety weighed heavy on his mind in messing things up further, he was determined to ensure that wouldn’t happen. The power was in his hands, and he’d use all of it in order to make you feel the love you deserve to feel.

Peeling off your clothes was a slow task. He took his time, reveling in the warmth of your skin, guiding his hands across every inch of flesh. He was worshiping you, showering you in praise and care. Sweet and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured affectionately, lips pressing to your cheek, then jaw, then down your neck. You were laid out for him on the bed, looking like a goddess bathed in light. “Don’t know what I did t’deserve you.”

“Simon,” you whispered, feeling tears spring in your eyes. Noticing, he lifted himself up, brushing the pad of his thumb softly over your cheek, swiping away the stray tear. He smiled down at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

He didn’t leave you waiting, but he certainly didn’t rush either. He worked diligently in stretching you open on his fingers, curling into that familiar spot that had your breath catching and your back arching beautifully. Your moans were spoken sonnets that blessed his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to hear them for the rest of his life.

Simon didn’t stop his notions, working you open until you were a squirming, crying mess, kissing away your tears while drowning in bashfulness at the sight of your pleasure. You deserved to feel good, and he’d die making sure of it.

When he lined himself up with you and slowly pressed his cock inside until he was at the hilt, buried in your moist warmth, he let out a blissful sigh, knocking his forehead against yours. He didn’t tear his eyes off of you, watching every flicker of euphoria that flashed in your eyes when he moved his hips. Unlike last time, his pace was slow yet firm, allowing you to bask in the delicious feeling of his cock pressing against the gummy walls of your cervix with every thrust.

“I love you,” he breathed through a sigh, brushing away a strand of hair that stuck in a sweaty mess to your forehead. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. M’so lucky.”

You whimpered as he showered you in praise, wiggling from under him. The pleasure mixed with brimming love had you close to orgasm, clenching around him in a vice. He panted with you, breath fanning your face, only getting cut off when he’d lean down to kiss you.

It was a wonderful display of intimacy. This wasn’t just sex. He wasn’t ruining you, he wasn’t leaving you broken. He was leaving you overflowing with promises that he had every intention of keeping.

Simon swallowed up your moans with lips pressed to yours, fucking you through your orgasm, whispering sweet encouragements. He filled you, sealing those promises, his spend mixing with yours and bringing the two of you together as one.

Breathless and spent, Simon tangled you in his arms and legs, holding you close to his chest so he could feel your warmth against him. It brought him comfort and security, like a blanket being lovingly placed over him and consuming him in a snug embrace.

It was silent for a long time after, but neither of you minded it. You relished in the feeling of one another, and words weren’t needed.

“You’re not going to leave after I fall asleep, are you?” you whispered, breaking the silence with a brief moment of weakness. Simon shifted his head to look down at you, lifting a hand to cradle your head and card his fingers in your hair.

“No, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he assured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You nodded against him, snuggling closer to him, cheek pressed against his chest.

“You weren’t here to see me make it to two weeks,” you said softly. Though the reminder hurt to hear, you held no resentment in your tone, which gave him a sense of relief.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized with a frown. When you peeked your head up to look at him, his eyes softened. It was like looking at the most beautiful thing crafted on this planet, and he had the absolute honor of calling it his.

“Maybe we can have a do-over,” you suggested, smiling cheekily at him. It enticed a laugh on his end, rumbling from his chest.

“How about instead of puttin’ a deadline on it this time, we keep count of the days that you wake up and accomplish seeing all the tomorrows. Deal?”

Your smile widened, and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s a deal.”

IT'S OFFICIALLY OVER!!!! I am so sad because I had such an amazing time writing this fic and it will truly always be one of my favorites. so many of you enjoyed it and supported me through it, and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've given me :,) I sincerely hope this ending is what everybody wanted and more. I love you all <3

[cleo-fox]

Movie Night

Summary: You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and…you kind of have a thing for him.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, couch sex, quiet sex, praise kink, friends to lovers, making out, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink.

A/N: I’m working on cross posting all my stuff from AO3. I wrote this a little while ago in an effort to address some writer’s block (it didn’t work, but I had fun writing it). This is also on AO3.

You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and you’ve got a little bit of a thing for him. You think he might have some interest in you, but you’re not certain enough to make the first move.

You look forward to your movie nights, but when this particular Friday night rolls around, you’re absolutely dragging by the time the clock strikes eight, thanks to a bad night of sleep the previous evening. Before the movie even starts, you’re wrapping yourself in the soft throw from your room and curling up, pillowing your head on the arm of the couch.

“I didn’t realize I would have such riveting company this evening,” says Loki dryly.

You roll your eyes and stretch obnoxiously, purposely shoving your feet into his lap. “I was up ‘til three this morning, give me a break.”

“Surely you need your full wits about you to appreciate the nuance of this fine cinema.”

He’s being sarcastic; you decide to ignore it because that will annoy him the most. You stifle a yawn and give him your most beatific smile before hunkering back down under your blanket. Loki grumbles something indeterminate, but he doesn’t shove your feet off his lap—in fact, he drapes his arm over your ankles like it’s not a big deal at all.

This simple gesture warms you from the inside out and sends a flurry of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You are pretty sure nothing is going to come of it—stuff like this has been going on for months and nothing has happened—but it’s still nice. You have no idea what it means, but it’s nice.

You’re not entirely surprised that you fall asleep during the movie—you are tired and while you don’t necessarily want to admit that any of Loki’s cinematic complaints have merit, the movie really wasn’t very good. Between that and your cozy blanket, it’s a recipe for an unintentional nap.

It’s dark when you wake up. You don’t really remember falling asleep, though you think it must have been about halfway through the film, based on the last hazy bit of dialogue you can recall.

You certainly don’t remember Loki sliding over on the couch to join you. But here he is, spooned up against your back, arms snaking around your waist, and the blanket tucked neatly over the two of you.

It’s dark and quiet and his breath is warm and even against the back of your neck. You’re reasonably certain that he’s asleep, though you wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it.

You consider your options. You probably should get up before someone wanders in and finds you like this, but…you don’t want to. You are wildly attracted to Loki—there’s no denying that—and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist and the warmth of his broad chest pressing against your back is far too intoxicating to give up, even though you’re currently tangled up with him in a common area.

Still…you’re not entirely sure what to do about this. At some point, you’ll both need to go to your respective beds. Pretending to be asleep when he wakes is almost certainly not an option—he’ll somehow know that you’re faking and he’ll absolutely call you out on it, which will make the whole thing worse. Going back to sleep is tempting, but it presents its own set of risks.

But then…why did he curl up with you like this? Surely he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t find you appealing in some way. Maybe you don’t actually need an exit strategy? Maybe you can just enjoy it. You’re a bit too comfortable, sleepy, and distracted to think properly, anyway. You allow yourself to relax further into his embrace.

And then you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

It’s almost impressive how quickly your body shifts from content and pleasantly sleepy to wide awake and intensely aroused. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a calm and rational voice saying you’re being ridiculous, but this is easily drowned out by the growing ache between your thighs.

You press your thighs together and try to take slow and even breaths, but it doesn’t really help. If you weren’t sure what to do before, now you’re at a complete loss. The safe assumption would be to chalk it up to biology and timing and move on, but it’s really difficult to do that when you’ve been locked in this flirty back and forth with him for months and you want him as much as you do.

You feel him twitch again and you bite your lip as the ache between your thighs pulses in a kind of answer, the slickness growing. Your breath is quiet, but shallow, your heart thrumming in your throat.

You’re trying to keep perfectly still, but between your aching core and the slight kink in your hip from the way you’re positioned on the couch, doing so is easier said than done. You hold out for as long as you can before you give in and shift your hips slightly, trying to be as subtle as possible.

He stirs in his sleep and pulls you closer, his cock pressing hard against your ass. You’re not sure if he’s awake—his breath is still coming slow and even against the back of your neck—but you can’t quite suppress the way your own breath stutters in your throat when you feel him against you. 

God, you want him.

He flexes his fingers where they are splayed against your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the curve of your neck.

“Will you admit now that you want me?” he says. His voice is low and intimate and calls to mind dark silk and smoke.

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to,” you say, which is true—whatever’s been brewing between you has been subtle, more sidelong glances than lustful stares; you’ve never spoken about it.

“Don’t play coy with me, pet,” he says, his voice a soft growl against your neck. “I have enjoyed the chase, but I’ve no more patience for games.”

The slickness between your thighs increases at the slight roughness in his voice. His lips graze the shell of your ear and you let out a sharp breath.

“Admit it.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching slightly against him.

“In due time,” he says, his hips pressing back against you. “Answer me first.”

You roll over so that you’re facing him. The sharp, angular planes of his face are flattered by the faint, moody blue light from the sleeping city outside. He stares openly, brazenly, at your lips, his hand resting on your waist.

“What happens if I do?” you ask.

He gives you a wolfish smile and his hand strokes down your waist to your thigh. He pulls your leg up and over his hip, drawing you toward him so that his cock presses against your clothed heat. You have to bite your lip to hold back a moan, but you’re pretty sure he catches the slight hitch in your breath.

“You’re a clever girl,” he says, “I’m sure you can work it out.”

When you’ve thought about this moment before—and you’ve admittedly thought about it a lot—you’ve always imagined yourself smirking right back at him, meeting his clever quips with barbs of your own until he’s forced to admit how much he wants you. But you’re not quite prepared for the way that your brain abruptly short circuits at the feeling of his thick, hard cock pressing against your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings or how his gaze is a thousand times hungrier in the dark than it was in your imagination. It feels thrilling and sexy being here with him like this, tangled up in the dead of night in the middle of the common area. Clever quips and keeping him hanging seem like an impossibility several times over.

He seems to sense that your resolve is faltering because his hand slides to your lower back and he rocks his hips against you ever so slightly, giving you just a taste of that beautiful friction.

“Admit it.” It’s not a question this time and a pleasant shiver runs up your spine.

You lick your lips. “I—I want you.”

His smile is like sin. “Good girl.”

You’re practically trembling with want when he kisses you, so slow and sensual that it makes you whimper when his tongue strokes past your lips and into your mouth.

He moves in a languid, almost lazy way that makes you dizzy with need. He’s completely unhurried, but there’s a tension in his body that tells you he’s barely holding back, that he wants you a lot more than what he’s saying.

You almost don’t notice his hand sliding from your back to your hip and then ghosting along your stomach until he slips it under the band of your leggings.

“How much do you want me?” he asks as his fingers trail lightly along the fabric of your underwear.

“You can’t tell?” you ask, trying and mostly failing to keep your voice level.

“I like to be certain,” he says.

“You just like hearing me say it,” you say.

His eyes glitter as his hand slips under the elastic of your underwear and slowly creeps downward. “And why shouldn’t I like hearing you tell me how much you want me?”

“I—” His hand is so close to where you need him. He runs one finger right along the edge of your slit and your breath catches. “I—I don’t…”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You don't…?”

“I…” Your mind is blissfully blank and every fiber of your being is focused on his hand and your aching clit. “I—I don’t…remember the question.”

You think you must have surprised him a little because he laughs in a way that makes his eyes light up, even in the moody blue half dark of the room. But after a brief moment he refocuses and his fingers slowly part your dripping folds and finally stroke your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, a moan catching in your throat.

“As I thought,” he tuts. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” You nod and he makes a scolding sound. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, which is ridiculous given that he’s got his hand down your pants. You lick your lips. “I need to come.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?” His fingers circle your clit lightly and retreat.

You shiver, your hips rolling forward, searching out his fingers. “Touch me.”

“How?”

You bite back a whimper as his fingers trace a circuit around your clit, avoiding your obvious need. “Please, Loki.”

“I need you to be more specific, darling,” he purrs. Your hips roll forward and he retreats again.

“You know what I want,” you say.

His smile is sharp. “Have we not established that I like hearing you say such things?” His fingers bypass your clit again. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me what you want.”

Your pride—or what remains of it—has slowly eroded to nothing. You lick your lips. You need him.

“I—I need you to touch me,” you say again. “I want you to rub my clit until I come on your fingers.”

His smile is vulpine but his fingers finally roll over your clit, lightly circling it. You breathe out, your hips rocking with his hand.

“Absolutely drenched,” he murmurs. “You’re a proper mess, my love.”

“It’s because you’re such a fucking tease,” you say, your hands sliding up to grip his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise. “I’m a tease? Am I not giving you everything that you asked for?”

“After amping me up,” you retort.

“And I’m taking care of that now, aren’t I? I’m touching you just like you begged me to.” He changes the movement of his hand slightly, fingers rolling across the most sensitive part of your clit. You suck in a deep breath and his eyes darken as he readjusts his hand to hit that spot again. “And you obviously like it. I daresay you need it.”

Your head tips back as your hips rock with his hand. You can feel your orgasm beginning to build and for the first time, it occurs to you that you are doing this in the middle of a common area. Reluctant as you are to stop, you can’t help but think it might be best to relocate.

“Should—fuck, yes, just like that—should we go back to your room? Or mine?” you manage to gasp.

“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“S-someone might hear,” you gasp as his fingers massage your slick and swollen clit.

The white of his teeth flashes in the dark as he continues to touch you. “Then I suggest you keep quiet,” he says, his voice rough.

You manage to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hear me?”

Another sharp smile. “Later.” His eyes darken. “You’ve kept me from my prize long enough. I rather think you’ve earned this little game.”

“I thought you had no more patience for games,” you manage to say.

He smiles and it occurs to you that he likes it when you talk back, perhaps just as much as you enjoy him putting you in your place. “Oh, I think I rather like this game,” he says, his fingers suddenly slowing, but still exerting a firm pressure on your clit. “How hard will you come for me? How quiet can you be?” His eyes darken again. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be quiet. Perhaps you want to be heard. Perhaps you want the others to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

You shudder despite yourself.

“Wicked girl,” he murmurs appreciatively. “Letting me touch you out here in the open like this. Anyone could walk in here and see.”

“You’d really let that happen?” you ask. “I didn’t take you for the type who likes to share.”

The hunger in his eyes increases tenfold and you know this was the right thing to say. “Oh, I don’t share, darling. Especially not you.” He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slightly and your breath catches, the tension in your hips building. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve thought about ravishing you until you forget every name but mine? How many times I’ve imagined you wet and begging for my cock?” His voice drops to a low rasp. “I have gone to bed hard and aching for you more nights than I can count.”

His words and his fingers are a wonderful and wicked combination. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his ink dark hair and pulling him in to kiss you. He does, but with such a lazy restraint that you can’t help but whimper a little, trying to press yourself closer as your hips rock with his hand. You’re reaching the place in the lead up to your orgasm where you’re so desperate to come that you feel like you’d do almost anything. It’s a heady place, with an edge of danger and you think that Loki must have an inkling of it based on the way his eyes darken.

“Did you think of me like this? Did you touch yourself, imagining the feeling of my hands on your body?”

“I—”

He must catch the slight hesitation in your eyes because that firm authority returns to his voice. “Tell me.”

Panting, you nod and earn another one of those dark and hungry smiles.

“How many times did you make yourself come while thinking of me?”

You don’t know the answer to that. Partly because it was like…several times a week. For the last six months. At least.

“A lot,” you finally manage.

His smile is devilish as he kisses you. “You’re going to come at least twice as hard for me tonight.”

The muscles of your cunt clench tightly around nothing. You need him so badly. Have you ever needed anyone like this? You’re fairly sure you haven’t. You’re getting close, your hips rolling with the stroke of his hand.

“Tell me how much you need it,” he purrs. “Tell me how you need to fall apart on my fingers.”

“Loki—”

“Tell me.”

“Please—I’m so close—”

“Tell me and I’ll let you come. Be a good girl for me, darling, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

You gasp. “Fuck, Loki, I—fuck, I need to come—I need you—”

You’re not sure how he manages it—perhaps there’s some magic involved, perhaps it’s luck or skill—but you start to come the moment the words leave your lips. The edges of your vision blur slightly as your orgasm overtakes you, roaring up from your hips and bursting like fireworks in the night sky. You gasp, trying to hold in a moan, but a slight whimper escapes you before Loki’s mouth covers your own, claiming you in a hungry kiss. His hand is still moving, fingers still circling your clit.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes against your lips. “Oh that’s lovely.”

It seems to last a long time, drawing out in long waves that make your toes curl. He kisses you throughout, until you very nearly lose track of where you end and he begins. All the while, his fingers keep rubbing your clit, extending your pleasure and making you shudder.

You can feel his cock still pressing against your hip and you want nothing more than to take him in your hands and make him feel just as good as he made you feel.

“I want to touch you,” you say and you’re treated to another one of those hungry smiles before he starts undoing the fastenings of his trousers. His cock finally springs free and you suck in a deep breath. He’s big—easily the biggest you’ve ever had—and you can’t help the ache that courses through you.

It’s immensely rewarding hearing his breath hitch when you take him in your hand. You’re surprised by how warm he is—you’d expect a Frost Giant to run a little cooler, but he’s hot and throbbing. You stroke him slowly from base to tip, squeezing his shaft ever so slightly.

His head tips back and he lets out a very quiet groan before reaching to push your hand away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry—” you start to say.

“I need you now,” he says, tugging your leggings and underwear down and off, his voice conveying both authority and desperation in a way that makes you ache.

He pulls you to him, drawing your leg up over his hip to spread you open. He rubs the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slickness and taking every opportunity to tease your clit.

He finally settles himself at your entrance and slowly begins easing into you.

He kisses you and it’s a good thing he does because you’re so slick and wound up that the dull, blunt stretch of his cock sliding inside of you unexpectedly tips you right back over the edge, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you come on his cock. You almost have a mind to be embarrassed—you’ve hardly begun and you’re already coming undone—but the feral glint in Loki’s eyes is enough to make you forget all about it.

“Like I said: you’re absolutely desperate for it, ” he says, pressing even deeper inside of you. “And you’re taking me so well.” He withdraws slightly and pushes forward again and you bury your face in his neck to hide your moan.

His fingers slide between your legs to find your clit. “I want to feel you come again,” he says, gently beginning to stroke you as he thrusts again. “You feel exquisite.”

It doesn’t take very long for him to build you back up—the steady thrust of his cock stroking your slick walls just right and his fingers expertly circling your clit is more than enough to take you there. It’s all so good and the way he’s kissing you is making you dizzy in the best way.

“I can feel you, darling,” he purrs in your ear. “Let go. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

With a few more thrusts, you do. You bury your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans as much as possible.

“That’s it, yes,” he growls as he fucks you through the aftershocks. His brow is furrowed and his focus is intent and you can tell he’s getting close.

“Loki,” you breathe.

Even though he’s in the process of losing his composure, he still manages a wicked grin. “One more for me, love,” he rasps.

You’re not sure if you can manage another, to be quite frank. “Loki, I—”

“One more,” he says again, his eyes flashing. “One more and I’ll fill your tight, perfect cunt with my seed. One more and I’ll make you mine.”

His words send something electric and primal racing up your spine and quite suddenly, you find yourself hurtling toward the release you didn’t think you had in you. A choked whimper catches in your throat and you are trembling in his arms and with one last shudder, you come hard.

“Nearly there.” His words are punctuated by gasps, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

His hips snap hard against you and he throws his head back, his face rapt in ecstasy, lost to a pure pleasure as he comes. He’s staggeringly beautiful in this moment and you’re filled with a feral kind of possessiveness—he is yours and you don’t want to share this moment or this feeling or this man with anyone else. It’s a startling thought—one you know that you know you’ll need to interrogate at some point—but you decide that it can wait until later. He starts kissing you and it nearly takes your breath away—it’s soft and tender and still so decadent it feels like it should be forbidden.

You want to stay in this moment with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still pressed inside of you, but you know it can’t last. Something in your chest aches as he pulls away from you, vanishes the mess and tucks himself back into his trousers. He slowly stands up and you suddenly feel so much colder than you were before.

But before you can start to wallow in that misery, he’s bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throw blanket and all.

Before you can even think to ask where he’s taking you, you’re in his rooms and he’s placing you gently on the bed.

“Oh, so now you want privacy,” you say as you watch him quickly strip off his clothes, your gaze lingering on every emerging detail like you’re a woman starved.

He smirks and joins you in bed, covering your body with his and kissing you deeply as he pulls off the rest of your clothes. The feeling of his bare skin on yours is so dizzying that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s hard again.

“Already?” you say with a disbelieving laugh.

His smile is sin dripped in syrup. “I am a god, pretty girl.”

The ache between your legs returns and he kisses you like he knows it.

“And this time,” he says, his eyes glittering with want, “I want to hear you scream for me.”

You are more than happy to oblige.

[petsdenonne]

Accidental

(Part 2: Here)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, nudes, Fluff, Graphic sexual content, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 1,185

Summary: When you accidentally send something to Jason that you're not supposed to he doesn't react the way you were expecting.

Authors note: I read @dxckgrxsonx ‘s Dickpic!Jason x Reader series and it sent me absolutely feral 💕 I had to write something! Seriously, go read it, it’s amazing. Here, look, I even made it easy for you.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

---------------------------------------------------------

oh god.

oh god, no.

Surely you hadn't...no, surely not...

As your finger hovered over the screen of your phone you could see that you had in fact done what you hoped you hadn't.

You had accidentally sent a nude to Jason instead of the man you had meant to. Why did he have to message you then!? It had bumped your chat with him to the top of the list and in your pre-occupied haze you hadn't noticed the name and contact photo at the top of your screen before you sent the image.

Fingers moving quickly to unsend the photo before he saw- oh, no, please no.

The 'sent' under the photo had changed to 'seen'

Bile and panic rose up into your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw your phone onto the bed beside you. You had to see him tomorrow! Bruce had invited you to the stupid family BBQ that they hosted at the manor every summer, since your father had died Bruce had taken you under his wing causing you to be an honorary member of the Waynes. Maybe you could pretend you were sick, tell Bruce you had a cold or a stomach bug? no, he'd send Alfred over with meds and soup. Maybe you could fake your death and run off to Bosnia? No, he'd know. He was the Bat after all.

Maybe you could kidnap Jason and brainwash him, cause him to forget that he had seen it and then delete the image from the chat- ding.

Your phones text chime ripped your attention back over to it, wrapping yourself tightly in your duvet you reach over and gingerly bring the phone back towards you so that you can read the message. Whatever he was going to say you could deal with, you'd dealt with Karens during the Black Friday sales when you worked in retail and you were sure nothing could be worse than dealing with that. Preparing yourself mentally to deal with the embarrassment of having to apologise and grovel with him you throw the phone back down again in frustration, causing it to bounce off of the bed and onto the floor, the screen chipping, when you see that it was just a spam text.

-----

By the next morning Jason still hadn't acknowledged the photo in any sense, that was a good thing, right? You were both adults. Adults have needs.

Even so you wanted to avoid him as best as you could, planning to go out. Say hi to Bruce and Alfred, thank them for being invited again like every year, grab a plate of food, and then hide somewhere to eat it.

Walking into the manor, having unlocked the front door with your key, you headed through the halls until you reached the garden. A small radio playing the playlist of whoever had managed to jump onto it first. Saying your hellos and thanks you piled upon your plate with chicken and steak, as well as a few things from the table spread like a healthy portion of Alfreds homemade potato salad before retreating into the manor to find somewhere to eat it.

As you settled in the library, closing the door behind you to pace slowly in front of the bookcases as you ate, your eyes skimming the spines of the vast collection- ding.

oh for gods sake, you'd have to have your number removed from whatever spam list it had been put on, the amount of junk you were receiving was ridiculous.

oh.

Oh.

As you opened the text to block the number you see that it wasn't a spam text.

It was from Jason.

Jasons dick was taking up your whole screen, all 7.5 inches of it. Pubes neatly trimmed back and cared for. You could see every vein and god it was good.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jasons voice broke you from your thoughts as he stood in the doorway behind you, damn Bruce and his perfectly oiled silent door hinges. Stepping towards you with a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips "Ya' know, you sent me that at the most inconvenient time. Right as I was about to break a guys collar bone, sweetheart. How was I supposed to do that when all I could see was you? so alone. so wet. so needy"

"J-Jay..."

"What? Baby girl. So shy now, I saw the pose you were in. That screamed confidence. Where's that gone, huh?" The smell of cigarette smoke and leather and gun powder filled your nose as he got so close your back pressed into the case behind you, towering over you as he softly placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, before he whispered into your ear "I want you"

Potato salad smushed into the carpet as you dropped the plate whilst trying to place it on a nearby surface but missed, you didn’t care, you’d clean it up later. All you wanted to do was get your arms over Jason’s shoulders as soon as you could. Mouths clashed together as he lifted you up by your waist, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you. Soft moans being shared as your lips worked together, his hands moving down to cradle your arse in his palms, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your jeans.

Placing you down to rest on the arm of the nearby sofa, hands were everywhere. His on you. Yours on him. Just trying to undress as fast as you could, both desperate for the embrace of the other. As soon as you were stripped off to an acceptable standard he grabbed you by your hips, turned you around, and bent you over the arm.

-----

Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock as the thick veins dragged against you. One hand clinging onto your waist tightly, the other on the sofa next to you to support himself as he pumped into you. "Fuck, Sweetheart...would have done this sooner if I had known you'd feel this good..." he growled, digging his nails into your side to anchor you close to him, he had waited so long to hold you, to feel you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

"H-Harder...M-more.." You whined out, burying your face into the leather of the seat. Trying to stay as quiet as possible to avoid others hearing, the last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see you with him, arse in the air as he pounded into you from behind, his balls slapping against your puffy sensitive clit.

Reaching forwards Jason grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head backwards so your face was out in the open and free. Leaning forward to growl into your ear as he made your back painfully arch against his chest "No, Don't you dare muffle yourself, I want them to hear me make you sing"

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A number of children are brought in to a hospital in Gaza after an Israeli drone bombed the children on the roof of their home in the Al-Bureij Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip on Saturday. 📈 The current death toll in the Gaza genocide now exceeds 38'919 Palestinians killed, while another 89'622 others have been wounded since October 7th. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

GAZA GENOCIDE DAY 288: ISRAELI OCCUPATION PRIME MINISTER BLOCKING NEGOTIATIONS WITH HAMAS, WHITE HOUSE CONSIDERING SANCTIONS AGAINST BEN-GVIR AND SMOTRICH AS ICJ ACCUSES ISRAELI OCCUPATION OF VIOLATING INTERNATIONAL LAW, GENOCIDE CONTINUES UNABATED AS MASSACRES OF CIVILIANS ESCALATE

On 288th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 4 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 37 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 54 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or whose bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The Zionist Prime Minister of the Israeli occupation, Benjamin Netanyahu, refuses to authorize his negotiating team's return to Doha, Qatar, to resume negotiations with the Palestinian resistance movement, Hamas, in order to finalize a ceasefire and hostage exchange deal that could lead to an end to the genocide in the Gaza Strip.

Reporting also stated that Netanyahu is hesitant to ratify any deal prior to his planned trip to the United States, where the Prime Minister is scheduled to give a speech on July 24th to the American Congress, and will meet with US President Joe Biden.

This comes as pressure builds on Netanyahu to sign a deal with the Hamas resistance movement, which has resulted from increasing diplomatic isolation for the Zionist entity, while dozens of families of Israeli hostages being held in Gaza continue to demand the Prime Minister ink a deal to return their family members as quickly as possible.

The families, along with other groups of Israeli activists, have organized regular popular protests in Tel Aviv and elsewhere, demanding the Netanyahu regime reach an agreement for a ceasefire and hostage exchange deal, while Netanyahu has accused the Israeli security establishment of imposing the US President's proposal on his government.

In a meeting Netanyahu called on Friday, the IOF Chief of Staff, Herzi Halevi, demanded that he sign an agreement for a hostage exchange deal, after which, the Prime Minister ended the meeting.

Earlier last week, the Israeli Prime Minister said in a press conference that "for months there has been no progress (in hammering out an agreement in Gaza), because the military pressure was not strong enough."

In response, Halevi demanded Netanyahu apologize for his comments during a security conference attended by the heads of the Shin Bet security services and the Mossad intelligence agency, telling the Prime Minister that "These statements are serious. I demand that the prime minister issue an apology."

In other news on Saturday, US President Joe Biden's White House are considering issueing sanctions against National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, two openly fascist Israeli cabinet ministers, during a meeting of the National Security Council on Wednesday covering how to respond to Israeli attacks on the occupied West Bank of Palestine, and the deteriorating situation there.

Israeli colonial settlers have regularly attacked Palestinian communities in the West Bank, largely sanctioned by the Israeli government and backed by the Israeli occupation army, while the government has continued a policy of expansion of illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank, while holding up the tax revenues belonging to the Palestinian Authority.

According to reporting in the American media outlet Axios, the Biden administration is "deeply frustrated" with the Netanyahu regime's continued policy of settlement expansion and the weakening of the Palestinian Authority, noting that the more extremist members of Netanyahu's coalition have openly allied themselves with fascist colonial settler groups and militias.

Axios says the meeting was called after yet another surge in violence by Zionist colonial settlers against Palestinian communities, while the Netanyahu government has announced plans to build another 5'000 housing units for Zionist settlers and to legalize five illegal outposts.

On Friday, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at The Hague determined the Israeli occupation's practices and policies "violate International law" and that the occupation is violating Palestinians right to self-determination in the occupied West Bank, and further accused the occupation of violating the Geneva Conventions.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation has continued its genocidal war in the Gaza Strip, killing and wounding dozens of Palestinians, while decimating the few remaining housing units, facilities and infrastructure of Gaza.

On Saturday, sources with Al-Awda Hospital in the Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, reported that doctors with the facility succeeded in saving the fetus of a pregnant woman who was killed after the Israeli occupation forces bombed her home in the camp during the early morning hours.

The woman was immediately transferred to the hospital, where doctors in the Operating room managed to remove the fetus, which was born alive, before being transported to the Nursery at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the city of Deir al-Balah.

According to Palestinian sources, Zionist warplanes bombed several residential homes and a gathering of civilians in the Nuseirat Camp, killing at least 6 Palestinians and wounding several others.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) said it's rescue crews recovered the bodies of 4 Palestinians killed in the occupation's strikes, after Israeli warplanes bombed the home of the Al-Tawil family in the Nuseirat Camp, before recovering two more dead bodies after a bombing that targeted a group of civilians on Al-Rashid Street, a coastal road west of the camp, transferring the dead and wounded to Al-Awda Hospital.

In another atrocity, occupation artillery detatchments shelled the vicinity of the community college in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, southwest of Gaza City, after which, PRCS paramedic crews transported the bodies of 6 martyrs to Al-Ahili Baptist Hospital in the city.

The war crimes of the Israeli occupation continued when Israeli fighter jets bombed a residential apartment belonging to the Ayyad family in the Mari' Abu al-Amin area of the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood, north of Gaza City, killing 6 Palestinians and wounding more than 10 others.

Zionist warplanes also bombed the Al-Sharahi family home in the New Camp area of the Nuseirat Camp, killing 4 civilians, including citizen Yassin Al-Sharahi, his wife and his children, and wounding a number of others.

The Israeli occupation army then went on to bomb a residential house belonging to the Abu Sidra family in Camp-2 of the Nuseirat Camp, near the Al-Talaa Mosque in the central Gaza Strip, killing and wounding several Palestinians.

The occupation's atrocities and war crimes continued when Zionist fighter jets bombed the Abu Jasser family home in the Al-Alami area of the Jabalia Refugee Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip, resulting in the martyredom of 4 Palestinians and wounding a number of others who were transferred to Kamal Adwan Hospital in the camp.

Occupation warplanes later bombed a residential home belonging to the Al-Batran family in the Al-Bureij Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of 3 civilians and wounding several others, while another bombing destroyed a populated house near the Martyr's roundabout in the camp.

The crimes of the Zionist Army continued with an occupation drone strike that targeted a civilian riding a bicycle on Street-5, north of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing the Palestinian resident who was taken to Nasser Hospital in the city.

Reports also state that the occupation army continues to bomb and shell neighborhoods west of the city of Rafah, in southern Gaza, in conjunction with artillery shelling of residential neighborhoods east of Khan Yunis.

In yet another violation of International humanitarian law, IOF fighter jets bombed a residential house belonging to journalist Mohammad Jasser, killing the journalist, his wife and two children, all of whom were transferred to Kamal Adwan Hospital.

The Israeli occupation army followed up their horrific crimes by bombing the home of the Al-Sabbagh family in the Al-Zarqa area, north of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of two Palestinians and wounding several others.

Occupation artillery and airstrikes also continue pummeling the Al-Da'wa neighborhood, north of the Nuseirat Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, while near non-stop airstrikes and shelling have also been targeting various neighborhoods of Gaza City, as well as northern and southern Gaza, killing more than 25 civilians since dawn on Saturday, with the majority of victims being children.

The attacks continued into the evening, when Zionist army fighter jets bombed a residential house belonging to the Siam family, west of the Yassin station, in the Saftawi area north of Gaza City, while victims of the bombing were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Another occupation bombing targeted a residential building in the Nuseirat Camp, resulting in the martyredom of 3 civilians and wounding a number of others who were transferred to Al-Awda Hospital in the camp.

Later on Saturday evening, an Israeli occupation drone targeted the Araba area, north of Rafah City, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing two Palestinians and wounding others, while four Palestinian children were wounded by an occupation drone strike that targeted the children on the roof of their home in the Al-Bureij Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing war of extermination in the Gaza Strip, the death toll now exceeds 38'919 Palestinians killed, including more than 10'000 women and well over 15'000 children, while another 89'622 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

This brings the official total number of casualties to 128'541, or the equivalent of 5.58% of Gaza's 2.3 million Palestinian residents.

July 20th, 2024.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[spencereidluver]

F is for First Date

september 15, 2008

summary: You and Spencer go on your first date to a little coffee shop before work. You convince him to try your coffee, and he finds he enjoys it.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none. just fluff and spencer being a gentleman

You roll over in your bed, throwing the covers off of your body. It was hot. Why was it so hot? You look over to your alarm cock: 8:03 a.m. You were running late. 45 minutes late, actually. Luckily, your apartment is only a few blocks away from the office, however, you typically left at 8:10. That left you 7 minutes to do your normal hour long routine.

You quickly jump up from your bed, letting the blankets fall wherever they pleased. Honestly, what’s the point in making the bed? You’re just going to tear it apart in your sleep tonight, anyways. You jog slightly to your bathroom, grabbing your hairbrush and multitasking as you did your morning pee. You brushed your teeth in record time, definitely not two minutes, but at least the morning breath was gone.

You went back to your room, slipping off your flannel pajama pants and gray “Harvard” shirt. You didn’t go to Harvard. You just liked the oversized shirt. 

You grabbed a nude-toned bra out of your dresser and clasped it behind your back. You slid a white lace top over your head and threw a tan fuzzy cardigan on. You put a pair of dark tights on and pulled a dark brown leather miniskirt over them, tucking the white top in. You slid on thick white socks on, ones that ended at your mid-shin, and put on a pair of black converse. 

Good enough, you thought to yourself, not bothering to put on makeup. You planned to stay in the office today. No meetings, and pray to god no cases. You just wanted a chill day.

You left your apartment at 8:15, not much later than you normally did, you’d just have to take out the coffee stop this morning. 

______

You nearly drop your bag as you’re rushing through the parking lot, trying desperately to enter the building before 8:30. Not only were you up late this morning, but traffic was a bitch. It wouldn’t be a big deal if you were a few minutes late, however you’ve been petulant in your 9 months and don’t plan to start truancy now. 

Of course, Derek, who 9 times out of 10 is fashionablly late, sees you speed walking through the parking lot.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing in so late?” He jokingly cat-calls you through the lot.

“Slept late,” You respond in a yell, not slowing your step at all.

“Aw, baby needs her beauty sleep?” “Something like that.”

You rush into the building, crossing through the glass doors of the BAU office right as the clock struck 8:30, Derek somehow a full two minutes behind you. You walk over to your desk and place your knitted tote bag filled with personal items on the ground beneath you. Sitting in your chair, you plop the stack of paperwork in front of you, and look at the man across from you.

“Morning, Spence,” You say as you open the file.

“Goodmorning, y/n. How was your morning?” He asks curiously. 

“Well, I overslept and didn’t have time for a coffee stop, but luckily I was having a good hair day so it doesn’t matter. How about you?”

“Well I couldn’t even tell. You look great. My morning was alright. I got my coffee.” He mockingly takes a big sip before standing up and excusing himself. 

You didn’t know where he was going, though you had enough paperwork to let it pass through your mind. You quickly began scribbling through the papers and placing files where they needed to go. You forgot how messy you’d left your desk Friday when you returned from a case. You were in a big hurry to leave and go to dinner with the team, you just threw everything from the case on your desk and scrammed. It wasn’t a big deal though, it was just easy, boring paperwork. 

Spencer returned a few minutes later with a coffee cup in hand. He approached your desk. “Hey, y/n,” he says, you move your attention from the paperwork to him towering over you. “I made you a coffee. I um, I put two sugars in it, I hope that’s alright, I’ve seen you drink it like that before and-”

“It’s perfect, Spence, thank you.” You say, taking the cup as he hands it down to you.

He hurries to his chair and hides his face. You curiously turned the cup around. There, you saw the inscription of his homely handwriting. “y/n: do you want to go out for coffee tomorrow morning before work? -Spence.” 

You smiled, and went to look up at him, but he instinctively scurried away. Though, he’d left his half drank cup of coffee on his desk. You walk over to his, and flop down in his chair, it almost swallowing you whole as the leather back had fitted to his broader shoulders. You grab the coffee and a Sharpie marker from his pencil cup. “Spence: of course I do… 7:30? <3”

You get up and return to your  desk, almost on cue, Spencer returns. You were unsure of where he came from, though it didn’t matter. He sat at his desk, and you nodded your head to the cup. He looked confused for a brief second, before bringing it to his eyes to read it. 

He looked up and smiled at you. “ 7:30 sounds great, I’ll meet you there,” he says.

“Okay! I’m parking here and walking, if you wish to join,” you say, taking a sip of the special made coffee. It was no different than how you normally made it, but it tasted special because of who made it.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot here, then. How’s that?” “That’s perfect, Spence.”

You return to your paperwork, unable to hide the smile on your face. You’d waited so long for this moment, you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. You caught Spencer smiling a few times as well. You wondered how long he’d wanted to ask you out. You’ve found Spencer attractive since the day you started working here. You were so beyond ecstatic something was finally happening between the two of you. 

You finished your coffee quickly. It was the best coffee you have ever tasted. You thought briefly for a second, before going to the kitchen to clean the styrofoam cup out. You made sure it was no longer sticky or had any coffee residue before drying it completely and taking it back to your desk. You open the small pencil drawer of your desk and pull out four sticky notes. Notes Spencer had left you in the past few weeks. You placed the four notes in the cup and placed a new lid on it. Putting the cup in the side drawer, you smiled to yourself. You’ve kept every note Spencer has ever given you. And you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

_____

‘7:28,’ the clock on the dash of your car read. You looked in your rearview mirror at the road behind you. There was Spencer in his old man car. You’d been early, nervous about your date, though you knew it would go good. You wore a fitted white turtleneck with a knitted tank top sweater vest of different shades of brown on top. You paired this with a khaki skirt and the same pair of black converse. You realized this was a very Spencer-esque outfit, and it was quite possible you and him could have nearly the exact same outfit on today.

Luckily, Spencer picked from the other side of his closet this morning. He approached you wearing dark brown slacks and black converse as well. He had his satchel pulled over his waist, drawing attention to the way he swayed as he walked. He had a dark, though not as dark as his pants, sweater that was open, and underneath was a collared off-white shirt and a diagonally striped tie. His left hand rested on his satchel, and his right was hidden behind his back. He did his little hoppy jog to your car, you having opened the door, grabbing your knitted tote bag, and beginning to make your way around to him.

“Good morning, y/n,” he says as he reaches you. 

“Hi, Spence,” You didn’t know why, but you were suddenly very shy. Maybe because this was a “formal date,” but you’d been on friend dates with Spencer so many times before. 

Spencer was clearly nervous too, though less than you. His hand from behind his back made itself known, in his fist was a single red rose. “I um, I got this for you. I know it’s only one, but I actually saw a flower patch on my way here and I didn’t want to take them all.” He was rambling.

“I love it, it’s perfect.” You grab the rose from his hand, letting your fingers run over the petals. They were smooth. He could see you were trying not to touch the stem too much, as you were trying not to touch the thorns. 

“I picked all the thorns off so you didn’t hurt yourself. I don’t have any water for it or anything…”

You examined the stem. You saw all the spots where thorns once laid. He was so sweet. Not only did he make a stop to pick you a rose, but he also safety coded it. You were going to keep this rose forever. You knew it. You planned on pressing the flowers once you got home from work that night. Maybe you could keep the petals in the “note drawer,” or maybe you could start a new drawer..

“Spencer, hey, I love it okay. Thank you.” You slid the stem of the rose between two knits of your bag, it poking inside and the flower on the outside like a pin. You saw Spencer smile. He was proud of himself. 

The two of you began to walk through the parking lot. Spencer paid careful attention to your feet, matching his gate exactly with yours. As you neared the end of the parking lot, reaching the sidewalk next to a fairly busy street, you felt a hand gently brush your waist. Spencer switched sides, him now being on the side adjacent to the road. First flowers, and now this? This boy was a true gentleman.

You smiled to yourself. Technically, the date hadn’t even begun yet, but you were already certain you wanted a relationship to blossom from this. You looked to the man to your left, the sun in a position to hit against his face in a way that made him look like an angel. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached over and took hold of his hand. He jumped slightly, before gripping a little too tight. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“You’re so pretty, y/n,” Spencer said. He’d been waiting what seemed like years- though only 9 months- to tell you that. You didn’t know where Spencer learned how to flirt, but frankly you didn’t care. You really liked this side of him.

“I think you’re pretty too, Spence.” You said. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Wow.

______

The coffee shop made itself known once you reached the top of a hill. The natural brick on the outside makes it look homey. It was about a 10 minute walk from the parking lot of the BAU, but Spencer and you were agents. You made the walk take a total of eight minutes. Speed walking isn’t a training module for the FBI, though it is definitely learned, and quickly. 

Spencer opened the door and allowed for you to enter first. Yet another gentlemanly move today. The smell of coffee filled your noses. It reminded you of Spencer. He always had coffee breath, yet not the nasty kind. He always seemed to smell so wonderful.

“Hello,” the barista at the counter cheerfully said as you and Spencer entered the small building. The two of you approached her. “What can I get for you guys today?”

You order your regular and Spencer orders a black coffee with a LOT of sugar. You retrieve the coffees from the pick up area and sit at a raised table in the corner next to a window.

“Why do you like black coffee?” you ask him. 

“I’m not sure. I always drank it when I was growing up and throughout college… and honestly, I’ve never tried it any other way.” He responded, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Really?” you said surprised. “With how much coffee you drink, I’m surprised you haven’t ventured into new territory even once.”

“Not once.” He took another sip. You noticed him kicking his feet beneath the table.

“Do you want to try a sip of mine?”

He smiled, crinkling his nose up. “Sure, do you want to try mine?”

“I guess I’ll give it a shot, though I will say I’m not the biggest fan of black coffee, so don’t be mad if I don’t like it.”

“I can’t promise anything, I can’t even say I’m going to like your girly drink.” He was teasing.

“I’ll tell you what Spence. You like my coffee and I’ll buy you a croissant. I like your coffee, you buy me a croissant. Deal?”

“It’s a deal, y/l/n.”

You switched cups. He gave it a sniff before popping open the lid to see inside. Tensley, he took a sip. You saw his eyes bulge. Licking his lips as he brought the cup down, he wrinkled his nose once again. He brought the cup back up, taking another sip. 

“You know what, I think you owe me a croissant.”

You smiled at  him, before taking a sip of his old man coffee, you cocked your head to the side. 

“You don’t like it, do you?” He laughed. 

You quickly sat the cup down and jumped up from your seat. You walked up to the counter, and ordered one regular croissant. Returning to the table with the plastic container in hand, you tossed in down in front of him. 

He opened the container, and tore a piece of the pastry off. He took a bite, and attempted to slide the container to you. In the process, it collided with his cup of coffee which was still situated on your side, causing it to spill all over your blouse. 

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, at least it wasn’t hot anymore.” You reach for the few napkins on the table, trying to dry yourself off despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything.

You were giggling, but Spencer didn’t find this one bit funny. He felt awful. You began to attempt wiping the table with the napkins, but were stopped by Spencer’s hand grabbing your damp-sleeved arm. 

“Hey, don’t worry about the table. I got it.” He gets up to go get napkins from the counter, before stopping in his tracks. He turns around and comes back to you, sitting in the chair using the sleeve of your sweater to stop the liquid from pouring onto your skirt and the ground. “Y/n, do you want to wear my sweater?”

This takes you a bit off guard. For a second, you forget your soaking wet with warm coffee. Your voice catches in your throat as you try to speak, but Spencer is already unbuttoning the two fastened buttons and sliding the sweater off his shoulders.

“You can go to the bathroom and change. I’ve got the mess, okay?” He hands you the sweater and makes room for you to move around him. You rush to the bathroom, trying not to leave a trail of coffee droplets through the lobby.

Turning into a stall, you immediately begin taking your sweater and white shirt off, tossing white one in the small garbage can. There was no way you’d be able to get the coffee stains out, and plus, the shirt was only $4 on sale at WalMart. Only left in your wire bra, you slip the brown sweater on. You button it all the way up, but as it’s a men’s sweater, it’s a little more of a V-neck than you’d like, especially since you were going to work soon. You tucked one side of the sweater into your skirt, letting the other side hang over to create dimension in your outfit and make it less simple. You toss your damp sweater vest over your shoulder and exit the bathroom.

Spencer was waiting for you when you came out. He’d gotten the mess cleaned up and was ready to leave. He grabs your hand, leading you outside the doors to begin your walk back to work. 

_____

next chapter: G is for Girlfriend

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

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a/n: sorry it took so long on this chapter, i've been pretty busy. hopefully i can get the next few out quickly as i hope to release part m (the christmas themed) on christmas day.

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff @ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie @spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

[unboxingproductreview]

What Is Black Friday?

Black friday is a highly anticipated shopping event that occurs every year on the day after thanksgiving. It marks the beginning of the holiday shopping season and offers shoppers incredible deals and discounts on a wide variety of products. In this blog post, we will delve deeper into what black friday is all about, exploring its historical origins, the evolution of black friday shopping, and the impact of online shopping on this annual event.

[henry7931]

Freaky Friday Block Part 2 Max & The Thomas Family

Max:

I’m sitting here trying to do some kind of research on this situation and I don’t even know what to freaking google. I mean I could just type in, “help, I woke in my friend’s dad’s body. Oh and by the way said friend is now his little brother.”

I don’t know, I’ve been listening to Jacob and Conner go back and forth for hours now. And Mr. Thomas is much help either.

I’m just glad my family was out of town so they didn’t have to deal with this whole body swap thing.

The craziest part is that we learned quickly that ‘we’ aren’t the only ones. I think half of the block is going crazy right now from waking up as someone else.

Hell, I saw that college guys a couple houses down walking one of their roommates. He literally swapped bodies with a dog! Nuts right?

I guess I can’t be too mad with Mr. Thomas’s body. Hell, I’m hoping once some of the chaos settles down I can actually enjoy all of this.

Wait a minute, where is Mr. Thomas? He left over an hour ago and said he’s just going to change and come back….

Mr. Thomas

Fuck I’ve been stroking this thing for hours now! I can’t stop!!

I know it’s awful of me especially this being the body of one of my son’s friends… but you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a whole house to myself? Hell, I haven’t been on a date in 10 years.

Ever since my kid’s mother left me after I came out to her I’ve had a hard time finding anyone to date.

But sitting here in this young handsome body… playing with this cock. Oh my god…

I keep trying to head back to my house but I’ve truly lost track of time. I’m just too horny right now.

I wonder… oh here it is! I knew Max was gay, he had Grindr already downloaded.

I take him off of discreet and update his bio: looking, ready to host.

Shit, his parents don’t come back for another week. I can at least enjoy myself at night.

Back at the Thomas’ Home:

Conner:

This is so freaking cool!! Not only did I wake up this morning inside my big brother’s body but now I have his room too!!!

I told him this morning since I have his body, that I get his room. He was so flipping mad about it but I can’t fit in my old bed anymore.

We screamed at each other for a long time. But I ended up picking him up and carrying him in my much smaller body back to my room.

He waited outside the door throwing a tantrum for a bit before giving up. So looks like I won!

Now I have an entire bathroom to myself and I even have my own cellphone (which I’m surprised he didn’t try to get from me.)

Now I think I’m going to take a shower because my new body is stinky!!!

I take off Jacob’s sweat pants he slept in and stopped at his undies.

I wonder what this looks like…

I yank them off and Jacob’s weiner comes floppin out. He has a big bush of hair right above it and weiner is way bigger than mine.

I start playing with it for a few until it gets hard.

I walk into the shower and start rubbing some all over my new muscles down to Jacob’s stinky feet.

Jacob’s feet are always stinky especially after practice. Sometimes they will stink up our entire house.

I weirdly like the smell…

I wash in between his toes and work back up his hairy legs.

I wrap his strong hand around his weiner and started tugging at it.

It felt so good that I couldn’t stop!

I tugged and tugged faster and faster…

I started to get really warm inside…

That’s when I started squirting all over the shower uncontrollably.

I was so out of breath that I laid on the shower floor for a few.

As soon as I could stand back up, I turned off the water and dried off.

I walked over to the mirror and stared at my big brother’s face that I now controlled.

I hope I keep his body forever!

*knock knock*

“Conner it’s me, you have my phone and I want it back,” I hear coming from the door.

I walk over to the door and open it up.

“I don’t think you’re getting this phone. Actually, it’s my phone now. I have this body which was your body. But now it’s mine. So my phone, my room, and now my body. Also, I think it’s best if you call me Jacob for now. Understood little bro?”

Jacob was so angry. He tried to yank the phone out of my hand but I just dangled it over him.

“So close on getting it!”

I jumps for it again and laugh at him.

“Well this has been fun but I’m going to lock my door now.”

I closed the door in his face and went back to his bed.

I pulled my towel off and grabbed one of his dirty socks off of the floor. I laid back on his bed or I should say my bed now— sniffing his dirty sock and gently playing with my new hairy balls.

Max:

So no one else seems to care right now about trying to figure out why we are all in each other’s bodies. So I decided to stop caring as well and just enjoy my new hot daddy body.

Starting with these sexy ass feet! God, I’m already getting hard!

My initial plan was to take a shower and I got as far as stripping down and grabbing a towel.

Unfortunately, I’m so distracted by these feet and Mr. Thomas’s big hairy ballsack.

I eventually get to the shower, still have not jerked off yet.

It’s fun seeing Mr. Thomas hard throbbing cock leaking so bad…

I’ll fondle it for a few and stare down at his feet again.

God I love them!! If we ever switch back I wish there was a way I could take his feet with me. Or at least get some visitation of his lower half.

Hell, this maybe my forever body. I may be Daniel Thomas forever.

I dry off and sit in the steamy bathroom… talking dirty to myself.

I work my way back to his bed jumping on it. I hold his feet up the air again.

I pull the towel off completely and rub his hands all over his hairy butt cheeks down to his hole.

I finally start jerking his dick that’s now throbbing so bad it immediately leaks.

“Mr. Thomas, you’re such a beautiful man. I love the way your cock feels, I love your hairy ass, your big feet, ohhhh… your dick is about to burst!”

“Oh god!!! This feels so goooooddd!!!”

I pull at his hair and start moaning incredibly loud.

“IM CUMMMMINNNNGGGGG FUUUUUUCCCC”

Cum sprays all over me and I’m covered in his cum. I take bit off of his chest and taste it.

“Yum!”

I lay back in his bed naked and grinning knowing that in a few hours I’m going to do it all over again.

[queenshelby]

ONE SHOT: HIS LITTLE GIRL

PART TwO OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.

PAIRING: CILLIAN MURPHY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: DUB-CON, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, FORCED BREEDING (SOMEWHAT), DDLG-STYLE STORY, HUGE AGE GAP

It was Friday Evening, a few weeks after your 18th birthday and, as usual, you were out with friends when you ended up in some trouble. 

You were sitting at the bar, nursing a drink when a group of guys started harassing you. They kept commenting on how pretty you looked and wouldn't leave you alone.

You knew you couldn't handle them, so you did what you always do when you needed help and your father was away for work. You called your father's friend, Cillian who had been dealing with your misbehavior and troublesome nature for quite some time after your parents had divorced. 

He was an attractive man, in his mid-forties, with slightly greying hair and piercing blue eyes; he possessed a dominating and intimidating aura that seemed to command respect and when you saw him enter the bar, you were relieved. 

"Cillian! Thank God you're here! I was being harassed by these creeps," you said, your voice cracking slightly as you tried to maintain composure while still trembling from fear as he walked in. 

His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto the group of men huddled together near the bar entrance.

"Y/N, let's get out of here," he said firmly, taking your hand and leading you away from the commotion. You felt a surge of relief, grateful that he had arrived just in time.

As you walked through the crowded bar, you could feel the stares of the other patrons on the back of your neck. You glanced sideways at Cillian, admiring his confident posture and the way he held his head high, as if daring anyone to challenge him. The mere thought of having someone take care of you sent a warm feeling coursing through your veins.

"What the fuck are you doing in a place like this anyway?" Cillian asked as he led you outside into the cool night air. "I mean, it's not like you've ever been much for restraint, but really now, Y/N?"

You didn't respond right away, instead opting to focus on breathing in the fresh breeze wafting over the cityscape. But then, you offered a sheepish smile and replied, "Well, I decided to try something new, and here we are."

Cillian snorted in response before offering to take you to his place since it was late and there wasn't any sense in letting you walk home alone, let alone allow you to stay in the empty house by yourself. 

"Okay, but can you not tell dad about this?" you asked hesitantly, looking up at Cillian.

"Sure, I will promise to keep quiet if you promise me to behave yourself the next time you go out and do not go to shady places like these," he replied gruffly, flashing a lopsided grin at you. His car was parked a few blocks away and the walk was a welcome change from the crowded bar. You chatted idly as you made your way to the vehicle, the tension from earlier beginning to dissipate.

Once inside the car, Cillian drove smoothly toward his apartment, and you couldn't help but admire the strength emanating from him despite his calm demeanor.

When you arrived at Cillian's place, he unlocked the door quietly, leading you upstairs to his living room with a protective hand on your lower back. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he fumbled around in the dim light trying to find the switch for the lights.

Finally, the room lit up, revealing the tasteful decor and cozy furniture and, since he had only just moved into this new apartment, you took some time to assess your surroundings.

This place was a stark contrast to your father's modest abode - it was bigger, brighter, and filled with modern art pieces that hung on the walls. There was even a balcony overlooking the city, which would make for an amazing spot to watch the sunrise on lazy mornings. You realized that this was the first time you actually saw Cillian's home and it made you feel a bit awkward. However, you soon found your bearings and started making small talk with him as you waited for him to gather some blankets and pillows for you to sleep on the couch.

"Now tell me, how is school going for you?" Cillian asked casually, knowing that you were just about to sit your final exams, breaking the silence between you both as he took a seat next to you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. 

"Oh, same old stuff, you know, studying, taking tests," you replied nonchalantly, shrugging off the question.

"And that boyfriend of yours? How is he doing?" he continued, a hint of worry creeping into his tone after he had met this young man a few weeks ago. 

"We broke up last week," you admitted, feeling a pang of sadness. "It turned out that he was cheating on me all along."

Cillian placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"It's just. I never...I mean, I should have seen it coming," you mused aloud, swirling the ice around in your glass of water. 

"Listen Y/N, you are a good girl. There will be others, others who are much more deserving of you," Cillian murmured softly, his thumb caressing your cheek gently, sending shivers down your spine. "But until then, don't rush things; it isn't healthy. Take some time for yourself, figure out what you want in life, and go for it."

"I guess you're right, Cillian," you sighed wistfully, staring blankly at the floor in front of you.

"I know I am right. I am always right," he mused, running a finger along your arm. You flinched at first, startled by the unexpected touch, but gradually relaxed under his gentle guidance. "Like I said, you are a smart girl, Y/N, so don't waste your youth on boys who don't deserve you," he went on to say before leaning closer.

You could smell the faint scent of soap and shampoo on his skin, a mixture of spice and cleanliness that made you feel strangely comfortable.

His fingers grazed your arm gently, sending a lightning bolt of excitement racing through your body. You wanted to pull away and yet, something strange compelled you to stay put. 

"Thanks, Cillian," you managed to squeak out, your heart pounding loudly enough to drown out everything else.

"You are welcome," he responded smoothly, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and his scent enveloped you, leaving traces of warmth in your wake.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder while his fingers traced undefined patterns over your skin.

His fingers eventually followed a trail from your neck down to your breasts, and as they reached your chest, he paused.

"You are beautiful, you know that right?" he whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"I guess, yes," you muttered, your heart hammering wildly beneath your ribs as Cillian's fingers moved downward.

"Good," Cillian said and you could feel the heat rising within you, intensifying every sensation and emotion. His touch was almost too much to bear, yet it was also irresistible. You swallowed hard, unable to look away, captivated by the sensations coursing through your body.

"Let me ask you, Y/N, has your boyfriend ever touched you up here?" asked Cillian, his fingers tracing circles over your clothed breasts and your eyes widened, and you gulped nervously. "Yes, sometimes he has," you mumbled, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

"How about down there? Has he touched your special place?" Cillian's fingers danced provocatively, inching closer to your groin.

Your heart raced, palms sweating, as you shook your head in disbelief. You'd never imagined this kind of situation with Cillian, but his presence was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses.

"No, no one has," you finally mustered.

"Really?" Cillian's tone grew huskier, his fingers now brushing against your inner thigh. 

"I bet you're wet though, aren't you?" he asked you, smirking wickedly.

"No, I don't think so," you whimpered, but your voice lacked conviction as his fingers slid upwards, dangerously close to your panties.

"Come on, Y/N, admit it. I know you are aroused right now," Cillian coaxed, his voice low and seductive. "I have seen how you have been looking at me for years and now that you are old enough...," he then went on to say before trailing off and your face burned hot with embarrassment, but Cillian's fingers were relentless, dancing dangerously close to your panties.

"Cillian, we shouldn't," you protested weakly, but your heart raced and your breath quickened, betraying any attempt at resistance.

"Why not? Don't you want to be a good girl for me?" Cillian purred, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties.

"I do, but..." you trailed off, struggling to form coherent sentences.

"But what?" he prodded, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. "Are you afraid of getting caught? Or maybe you think that you are still too young to have sex?" Cillian teased, his fingers expertly navigating through your underwear, his movements slow and deliberate. 

"No, but I am nervous," you admitted, your voice barely audible. The anticipation building within you was overwhelming, and you desperately wanted to feel his breath on your skin.

"Nervous about what?" Cillian taunted, his fingertips pressing lightly against your clitoris beneath your underwear.

"I am nervous about having sex. I am worried that it will hurt when you put your, you know....in there..." you murmured, causing Cillian to chuckle. 

"That's the thing, Y/N. The first time might be a little uncomfortable, but once you're used to it, it feels incredible. And trust me, I'll be gentle if you let me be your first," he assured you, his fingers now running over your wet slit, beneath your panties.

"I promise," he added, dipping one finger inside. You gasped softly, unprepared for the sudden intrusion.

"That feels weird," you gasped, gritting your teeth and clutching onto his arm for support.

"Because it's new," Cillian reassured you, his finger withdrawing briefly before sliding back in. "Try to relax, and breathe with me."

You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice, his rhythmic breathing. Slowly, you began to loosen up, allowing your muscles to unwind.

With each gentle thrust, you could feel his finger exploring deeper, discovering hidden depths within you.

You moaned softly, your hips undulating involuntarily, your breath becoming ragged.

Suddenly, he withdrew his finger, leaving you panting and wanting more.

"You are very wet now, Y/N," he murmured, his voice deepening even further as he pulled your panties down and slipped a digit back inside your folds. "And your pussy is so swollen, so ready for me. Please let me have sex with you," he begged you and your eyes shot open wide, and you gasped at the realization of what was about to happen if you said "yes"... You could feel your pulse throbbing in your veins, and your cheeks burning bright red.

"Come on Y/N. Let me put my cock inside that this little hole of yours. I promise it won't hurt for long," Cillian said, his voice dripping with lust. You glanced around nervously, aware that your heart was pounding uncontrollably and your breathing was heavy.

"You want to be my good girl, don't you?" Cillian whispered softly, his fingertip circling your nipple, creating a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. 

"Okay, but you need to wear a condom," you interjected, swallowing nervously.

"Of course," Cillian reassured you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small foil packet.

You watched intently as he undid his pants, pulled them down and then carefully removed the condom, rolling it onto his erect cock with practiced ease. Your heart hammered in your chest and your own juices pooled between your thighs at the sight of his engorged member.

"So beautiful. Now spread your legs for me, baby," Cillian instructed, his voice thick with desire. You did as you were told, your hands shaking with anticipation. Cillian knelt between your spread legs, his erection hovering just inches from your wet, eager pussy.

"Just like this, huh?" he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your soaked opening. You whimpered, unable to contain your nervousness. 

His cock looked huge in comparison to your small opening and the idea of having it inside you frightened you, but also excited you beyond belief.

"Relax, alright?" Cillian murmured softly, placing a supportive hand on your hip. "You might bleed a little, but it's completely normal. Trust me, it's nothing to worry about." His voice carried a soothing quality, and your heart rate gradually slowed down.

"Now, lift off the couch a little so that I can watch my cock go in," Cillian declared assertively, the intensity in his voice raising goosebumps across your arms.

You gulped, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

"Do you want me to lie back?" you ventured, feeling exposed yet curious after you adjusted your position.

"No, I want you to stay exactly where you are," Cillian insisted, his hand gripping your knee firmly.

"Okay," you murmured and Cillian sensed your apprehension and gave you a sly glance.

"Relax, Y/N. We are going to do this right," he assured you, his eyes locked on you. "It is going to be fun, okay? Just trust me."

You gave a weak nod, your heartbeat echoing in your ears, and a thin film of perspiration formed on your forehead. Cillian leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered, "Ready?"

"Yeah," you managed to croak back, your voice hoarse from anxiety.

You shifted restlessly on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest like a jackhammer. Cillian's firm grip on your knee grounded you, and gradually, you began to settle into the moment.

"Don't worry, I'll go slow," Cillian whispered, his voice rich and husky as he pressed the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You inhaled, steadying yourself, bracing for the pain.

"Breathe with me, Y/N," Cillian coaxed, his breath hot on your skin. "Take a deep breath and push out your pelvis."

You complied, your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on relaxing your muscles. Cillian eased forward, and with a slight pop, his cock breached your tight barrier.

"Ow!" you cried out, instinctively tightening against the intrusion.

"It's okay, Y/N," Cillian murmured encouragingly, stroking your upper thigh. "Just relax and remember to breathe."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to relax. Cillian maintained a steady pressure, guiding his cock deeper into your slick, tight channel. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, threatening to burst free at any moment.

"Almost there," Cillian whispered, his voice sounding far away.

You grunted softly, feeling the stretch and burn intensify.

Cillian continued to guide his cock deeper, his pace steady and measured. The discomfort was overwhelming, but you focused on taking measured breaths, reminding yourself that this was part of the process.

"Alright, Y/N, we're halfway there," Cillian murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing great."

"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" you whimpered, squirming uncomfortably.

"It is supposed to hurt a little," Cillian answered honestly before adding, "but it won't last forever. Just breathe and stay still for me. You will get used to the feeling soon," he reassured you and you took several deep breaths, willing yourself to relax. There was some blood on the cushion beneath you, but you pushed the image aside and focused on the task at hand. 

Eventually, you felt him bottom out inside you, his cock filling you up completely with a sensation you hadn't experienced before.

Your heart pounded furiously, and your breathing became ragged.

"You're so damn tight, it feels so fucking good," Cillian groaned, his voice strained and husky and, despite his efforts, his cock twitched inside you, growing harder.

"Please," you managed to whisper, unsure whether you were agreeing to continue or begging him to stop. You could feel your insides quivering, an unfamiliar sensation spreading throughout your body. It was pleasurable at last and this, mixed with the pain, confused you. 

Cillian's grip on your knee tightened slightly, steadying himself as he prepared to begin moving. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly.

"Okay, Y/N, I'm going to start moving now," he warned, his voice husky and low. "Just relax and tell me if it hurts too much."

You managed a weak nod, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing yourself for the inevitable pain. Cillian began to move, his cock sliding back and forth inside you with agonizing slowness.

Each stroke sent waves of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, making you moan softly. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. he growled in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're wound tighter than a spring. I can feel you clenching around me, fighting the urge to come undone."

You squirmed uneasily, your heart pounding like a war drum in your chest. "Cillian, please," you whimpered, your voice cracking like a gunshot. "Please, I can't," you moaned but he silenced you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of salt and sin. His cock pulsed inside you, relentless as an iron fist.

It seemed to fill you up more fully with each passing second, and the exquisite torment it inflicted upon your tender flesh drove you to distraction.

"Feel it, Y/N?" Cillian whispered, his voice husky and low. "My cock is stretching you to your limits and it feels so good. You are so tight and so warm," he groaned and you could only nod in agreement, your breaths ragged and desperate. Cillian's cock surged inside you, thrusting deeper and harder with each passing moment.

Each movement sent delicious spasms through your body, making you moan helplessly. You could feel yourself unraveling around him, losing control of your inhibitions.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation. "You feel so good inside me."

Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph, his cock swelling larger and thicker. An insatiable hunger ignited within you, driving you to claw at his shoulders and squeeze his ass tightly.

"That's a good girl," Cillian rasped, his cock pulsing intensely within you. "Taking my cock like a champ."

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vise. Each contraction brought another wave of ecstasy, as you surrendered yourself to the blissful agony consuming you.

"Oh, fuck," Cillian groaned, his cock flexing powerfully within you. "So goddamn tight," he gasped before pulling out of you abruptly. "How about you turn around for me now and get on to your hands and knees," he ordered.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest like a madman. But somehow, you trusted him. After all, he was Cillian Murphy—the man you've fantasized about for what felt like a lifetime. With a trembling hand, you slowly rotated your body until you were facing the opposite direction. You bent over, your hands supporting your weight on the couch cushions.

"Perfect," he praised. "Stay like that."

You heard him shuffling around behind you but did not pay much attention to what he was doing as, unbeknownst to you, he pulled the condom off his shaft and discarded it on the floor, wanting to fuck you bare. 

He then grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you back against him. His bare shaft entered you, feeling warmer and smoother than before. 

It slid effortlessly into your welcoming pussy, the sensation of his flesh against yours setting fire to your nerves.

"Something feels different," you gasped, confused, but Cillian silenced you. 

"Shh," Cillian hushed you, his warm breath fanning your ear. "Everything's fine," he said before he thrust into you again, his cock sliding deeply within you with a hungry growl. The sensation of his naked cock penetrating you felt amazing for him and you, but you still did not know why it felt different then before and put it down to the change in positioning.

For Cillian, this act was raw, primal, and absolutely thrilling. The thought of having his cum inside you thrilled him even more, claiming you as his. 

"God, Y/N," he gasped, his breath hot on your neck.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," he groaned and you bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan.

"Cillian," you whimpered, your voice hoarse with desire, still unaware that he was now fucking you raw. His bare cock was inside you now just as he was getting ready to cum and you knew nothing about it. 

"I am close baby. So fucking close," Cillian muttered while slamming into you. Each thrust filled you with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you moaned, your voice cracking with desperation.

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vice and, soon enough, you could not take it anymore and came undone. 

You orgasmed, spasming around his cock, milking him and forcing you both to shout out in euphoria.

You felt your inner walls tighten around him, and Cillian's cock swelled, spurting hot cum deep inside you. His seed mixing with your wetness, marking you as his.

"Fuck," he groaned, his seed bursting forth, painting your insides white. You gasped in shock, your body tensing up as his semen spilled into you.

You felt the warm sticky substance trickling down your inner thighs but did not think anything of it, ignoring it in post-orgasmic bliss. 

Then, after a few more thrusts, Cillian pulled out of you and collapsed beside you on the couch and, immediately, you sat up, your gaze landing on the spot where both of you had been lying.

You didn't notice it initially, but now, you couldn't help but stare at that spot while Cillian reached for a box of tissues and, without words, handing you a wad of paper towels.

"What for?" you asked, puzzled as and he gestured to your pussy, leaking his cum. 

You stared at your own pussy before registering what had taken place. He had ejaculated inside you. The thought made you blush profusely but you didn't say anything. 

You clean up the mess with the tissue, wiping up the remnants of his release  before tossing it in the trashcan.

"Your pussy looks so good, leaking my cum," Cillian says, admiring your visibly flushed face and damp hair.

"Why did you do that?" you ask, knowing full well that he intentionally removed the condom. 

"I wanted to claim you," Cillian replies, his voice deep and resonant. "I needed to show you that you belong to me; that we are meant to be together," he told you while caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. "And now you are mine," he added confidently before forcefully kissing you again, his lips crushing yours hungrily till your body weakened under his passion.

[alwaysmicado]

Wet

3.3k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 2

Warnings: no outbreak au, implied age gap, smut: pussy sliding, unprotected piv, choking, creampie, public sex, pet names, degradation/praise, soft!dom Joel, aftercare Summary: You run into Joel at the gym. Seeing him all sweaty in his gym shorts turns you on, so you fuck him in the whirpool. A/N: Get your favorite protein shake ready, make sure to stay hydrated, and have fun! 💦 Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 🖤 series masterlist / AO3

“Mmm, I’d know that beautiful ass anywhere,” a deep voice behind you murmurs. You duck your head to look at Joel’s shoes through your spread legs. “This your signature move, Miller? Perving on girls in the gym at night?” You hear him chuckle, “Only you, baby.”

It’s 98°F today and your AC died five days ago. You’ve been too busy with work to call someone to fix it for you, so you’re currently lounging on your couch in your panties and a white tank top, beads of sweat forming on your face and chest, fanning yourself with an envelope that used to contain a wedding invite from your co-worker. It’s far too hot in your apartment and the prospect of spending your whole weekend in this sweatbox is giving you a headache. Since it’s already 8pm on a Friday, there’s zero chance you can get your AC fixed before tomorrow, and that’s if someone’s available on such short notice. 

You sigh and get up to pour yourself a glass of water. It’s ice cold after sitting in your fridge all day and cools you down nicely from the inside. Your phone lights up with a message from your gym, notifying you of a promotion they're offering for their new line of protein shakes. The gym is two blocks away from your apartment and has a big indoor pool. Why not, you think. Do a quick workout and then cool off in the water. Sounds like a plan.

The girl at the gym’s front desk greets you cheerily and compliments your shorts. They’re bright pink and make your ass look incredible. You thank her and go to the locker room to change shoes and stow your bag. You take your towel and water bottle with you and go to the main room with all the cardio and strength equipment to do a warm-up before running a few miles. The room is empty save for a handful of people doing their own thing.

You lay your towel down on the mat and start doing a few yoga poses to stretch all of your tense muscles. When you’re going into the Downward Dog pose, you exhale deeply and try to let go of all the stress that’s been weighing you down lately. Work, the heat, your family, your life- 

“Mmm, I’d know that beautiful ass anywhere,” a deep voice behind you murmurs. You duck your head to look at Joel’s shoes through your spread legs. “This your signature move, Miller? Perving on girls in the gym at night?” You hear him chuckle, “Only you, baby.”

You sigh deeply and get up. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here on a Friday night, hm?” Joel asks, taking a swig from his shaker and licking his lips. Now that you’re getting a good look at him, you can only stare for a few seconds. He looks sinfully handsome in his black shirt and gym shorts, his hair already a bit wet and disheveled from a previous workout.

“My AC’s broken,” you eventually find your words, “I’m just here to cool off in the pool.” Joel furrows his brow and tilts his head, “Why didn’t you tell me? You know what I do for work.” You give him a smile, “It just went out a few hours ago, no big deal. I’ll call someone tomorrow.” Joel looks at you for a second before nodding. “Alright, sweetheart, gotta do my next set. And you keep doing those beautiful poses,” he winks at you, “giving me all sorts of ideas.” 

You resume your yoga routine and try to concentrate on your breathing again. It’s no use. All you can focus on is Joel’s biceps and triceps flexing a few feet away from you, sweat running down his neck, his strained face, the way his big hands grip the weights. Oh, and his spread legs in those slutty shorts he’s wearing. You could just sit between them and blow him while he’s doing his workout. Or straddle him while he’s sitting on the bench, rubbing yourself on his hard cock, your bodies separated by the thin material of your shorts only. 

You can feel wetness seeping out of your pulsing pussy and pooling in your synthetic thong. You press your legs together, flex your abdomen and stretch your torso to try and distract yourself from your burning arousal, but it doesn’t work. You can’t concentrate on anything but your throbbing clit and the fact that your cunt should be clenching around Joel’s thick cock right now instead of nothing. Your heart is racing and your skin is on fire. 

When you sit up and spread your legs, you realize that there’s a visible wet spot on your shorts. Joel is taking a sip from his shaker when his eyes lock with yours and then drop down to your exposed core. His brow furrows, eyes wide when he chokes a little on the thick liquid going down his throat. He tries to play it cool, but you’re already giggling smugly. He glowers at you, but you just bite your lip and tilt your head. He is too easy sometimes. 

You turn around, get on all fours and present Joel with a perfect view of your ass and the damp fabric hugging your folds when you move into Downward Dog again. You make sure to hold the position for a few long seconds before getting back on your hands and knees again, moving into Cat and Cow. After a few repetitions of those poses, you can hear weights hitting the floor rather aggressively.

“You need it that bad, huh?” Joel is standing in front of you now, his erection clearly visible through the thin fabric of his shorts. You look up at his face, feigning innocence, “No idea what you’re talking about.” Joel scoffs, “All you need to do is ask nicely, darlin’. No need to act like a desperate whore.” He crouches down and grabs your chin roughly to force you to look into his dark eyes. “Or is that what you are, hm? A desperate whore showing everyone what a mess she made in her pants?”

Fuck, it turns you on when he talks to you like this. You look up at him with big eyes and bite your lip. “Hmm, poor baby can’t even use her words anymore,” he tuts mockingly, tracing your lips with his thumb. “It’s okay, baby. I know what you need.”

Joel releases your chin and gets up to stand above you. “Tell me what you are and I’ll give you what you need. Simple as that, darlin’.” You’d usually try to defy him, but your physical need for him to fuck you outweighs any and all inclinations to be a brat right now. “I’m a desperate whore for your cock, sir,” you purr, batting your eyelashes. “Yeah, that’s right,” Joel smirks, palming himself over his shorts. “Time for a swim, don’t you think?”

—---

The water looks beautiful. Turquoise, clean, cool. Joel dims the lights and closes the door behind you two. There’s no one else in the pool area right now, but you can’t lock the door from the inside. 

“C’mere,” Joel growls, pulling you close by your waist with one hand and grabbing the back of your neck with the other. “You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you, hm?” He raises an eyebrow at you, the dark glint in his eyes making your whole body tingle. His face is so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath and smell the intoxicating mix of sweat and aftershave. You want him so bad it hurts. 

“Yes, sir,” you coo, your pulse quickening rapidly. Joel lets go of your waist and grabs your chin instead. “Look at me, baby.” You lock eyes with him and swallow. “You get off on being a pathetic little slut in public, don’t you,” he smirks at you. You nod and can’t hide the grin spreading across your face. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling you close for a passionate kiss. His plush lips find yours, pressing against you gently but commandingly, making you moan into his mouth. His skilled tongue circles yours as he tangles one hand in your hair and runs the other down your back slowly. He squeezes your ass and then slides his hand further down, feeling the damp spot between your legs, massaging you softly through your pants. His hard cock is rubbing against your thigh and you want nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you up over and over again until you can’t think straight anymore.   

“Fuck, Joel,” you breathe against his lips, “I want you so bad.” He grabs your ass cheeks with both of his big hands and pulls you up his thigh. “I got you, darlin’. Gonna fuck you so good you’ll be begging me to stop.” You press your thighs together and whimper at the thought. Joel nuzzles his nose against the delicate skin of your jaw and hums, “Yeah, I know that’s what you need.” He starts trailing soft kisses down your neck from behind your ear all the way down to your clavicle while you tangle your hands in his curls and moan softly into his ear. 

“Tell you what, baby. If you make it into the pool naked before me, I’ll let you come tonight,” he smiles mischievously against your hot skin. You stare at him like a deer in headlights for a split second before determination sets in and you rip your shirt and sports bra off.

Joel starts fumbling with his shirt as well when he realizes you’re taking this seriously, but you’re already shucking off your shoes and pulling down your pants along with your panties before he can even get to his shoes. You run towards the pool and clumsily jump on one leg at a time while taking your socks off without stopping.

Joel just laughs to himself and stares at you in awe, your beauty taking him by surprise every single time. You lift your hands above your head and jump into the wonderfully cold water head first. It feels incredible.

You come up again and put your arms on the edge of the pool, Joel’s naked toes appearing right in front of your face. He looks down at you and laughs, “Remind me to never underestimate your desperation for my cock again, baby. Alright?” And with that he jumps into the water. 

You both swim a few laps, trying different styles, making a race out of it until Joel catches you by your ankle and pulls you back into his broad chest, his arms wrapping around your naked torso from behind. “Can’t stand that I’m winning, old man?” you chuckle breathlessly, your chest heaving from the exertion. “You’re such a brat,” Joel growls, moving one hand to cup the soft flesh of your left breast, kneading it roughly and rolling your pebbled nipple until you cry out in pain, while the other hand finds its way down your belly.

“You love it,” you pant, turning your head to look at him. He immediately removes the hand that was almost touching you where you need it the most and puts it around your neck, squeezing hard. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his face so close that his lips brush yours, “let’s go in the whirlpool.”

Joel gets in first, closing his eyes, spreading out his arms and groaning at the feeling of the jets massaging his back and legs. You smile at the sight. You know he has a stressful job and isn’t the type to allow himself much downtime, so it warms your heart to see him be able to relax when he’s with you. He’s beautiful. “You just gonna stare at me or come in,” his voice yanks you from your thoughts. “C’mere and sit on my lap, pretty girl.” 

He immediately wraps his arms around you once you’re straddling him, tracing your back with his palms. His cock is already hardening again and you can’t help yourself but start rocking back and forth on it.

“Mmm, what a needy little thing you are,” Joel coos, “can’t wait for me to fuck you, huh?” You nod and whimper at the delicious feeling of your swollen clit finally getting the stimulation it has been aching for. “Shame you had to be a brat today and behave like a bitch in heat in front of everyone,” he grips the back of your neck with his hand, sending shivers down your spine.

“You wanna get off so bad, you do it. But I’m not gonna help you,” he searches your eyes intently, “got it?” He raises his eyebrows and you nod slowly. “Good. Now be a good girl and make yourself come on my cock.” 

You start rolling your hips, your slick folds sliding over Joel’s length continuously. “Fuck me, you feel so good, baby,” he moans, arms crossed behind his head. You keep grinding and tilt your pelvis so you’re stimulating your clit with every movement you make.

You’ve not fucked anyone since Joel a week ago and it’s been too hot in your apartment for you to get in the mood and masturbate, so you’re understandably desperate for release. It’s so close you can taste it, but still too far away. You dig your fingers into Joel’s shoulders as your movements get more erratic, the tension in your lower belly close to snapping.  

“That’s it, baby,” Joel pants, “keep going.” He keeps his eyes trained on your face and puts his hands on your waist. For a second you hope he might help guide you and start thrusting his hips, maybe even fuck you, but you know better. He loves it too much when you’re desperate.

You’re so close to coming, but just can’t seem to get there completely, no matter how hard or fast you rub yourself on his cock. You whine in frustration, hot tears starting to well in your eyes. 

“Look at me, baby,” Joel purrs, “you wanna say something?” You shake your head, trying to avert your gaze and blink away your tears. Joel grips your chin and forces you to look at him. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” he coos sweetly, the smirk on his face telling you that he’s mocking you.

“It hurts, Joel,” you whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks now. He cups your face and wipes them away with his thumbs. “Well, princess, it wouldn’t have to if you didn’t behave like a little whore. You think I should reward that behavior, hm?” 

Your pussy’s on fire and you’d say anything at this point if it meant you could come. “I’m so sorry, sir. Please help me, I’ll do anything, please, please, just help me,” you whine pathetically. “Aww, you poor thing,” Joel teases, “no fight left in ya, huh?” You shake your head and fall into him, burying your face into his neck, putting your arms around him. “Please, Joel,” you sob, “I need you.” 

He wraps his arms around you and strokes your hair. “You’re a good girl for asking so nicely. Wasn’t that hard now, was it?” You look into his eyes and shake your head no. “Good girls get rewarded, you know that.”

He nudges your nose with his and presses his soft lips on yours, kissing you urgently, nibbling and biting until he can’t take it anymore himself. “Sit on my cock, baby,” he pants, holding his shaft up with his hand. You position yourself right above his tip and sink down on him slowly. You almost come instantly, the way he’s stretching you open the perfect combination of painful and pleasurable. 

“Fuuuck, that’s it, baby. Take what you need from me,” Joel encourages you, gripping your hips and guiding you up and down on his thick cock. You can’t hold back your moans anymore, bouncing on him frantically, throwing your head back and flexing the muscles in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m so close,” you whine, starting to feel dizzy from the overwhelming mix of sensations. “Look at me when you come on my cock, baby,” Joel commands. You open your eyes, brow furrowed, mouth slightly opened, and look into his big dark eyes. “Just let go, baby,” he pants, “you’re doing so good for me.” 

Your skin is burning and your heart is racing when the tension inside you finally snaps and you come with a strangled moan. You convulse in ecstasy, your walls spasming and contracting around Joel, sending him over the edge himself. “F-fuck!” he groans, holding you down and thrusting up a few times, emptying himself inside you.

You collapse into him, as the aftershocks of your orgasm run through your body. “C’mere, darlin’. I got you,” Joel mumbles into your ear breathlessly, holding you tight and stroking your hair gently. 

The sudden rush of dopamine and oxytocin flooding your brain is forcing tears down your cheeks. You’re so exhausted that you can’t stop yourself from crying and sobbing into the crook of Joel’s neck. “Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m here,” he reassures you calmly, drawing soothing circles on your back.

Your body’s still trembling and the tears won’t stop. “I know, baby, I know. I’m here, just breathe.” He kisses the top of your head and murmurs into your hair how proud he is of you and how good you’ve been.

After a few minutes of silence, you’ve calmed down enough to open your eyes and lift your head again. “There’s my pretty girl,” Joel cups your face and smiles at you softly. “Let’s go take a shower, hm?”

---

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” you murmur while Joel’s gently rubbing soap into your skin. “No need to apologize, darlin’. Crying after the incredible orgasm I gave you seems pretty natural to me,” he smirks and you giggle.

“I never want you to hide your feelings from me. Just want you to be yourself around me, always,” he looks at you earnestly. You nod and smile at him before rinsing off the shampoo in your hair. You both towel off, gather your clothes and go to the respective locker rooms to change. 

Joel waits for you outside the gym’s front door, enjoying the cool night air. You try to sneak by the front desk, fearing that the receptionist might have put two and two together or even heard you, but of course she sees you. “Have a great night,” she winks at you and gives you a big smile. 

“I can never come here again, I hope you’re happy,” you sigh and Joel chuckles. “Not my fault, baby, remember? I was just doing my workout when you came and decided to put your pussy on display.” You slap his arm and laugh.

“Well, have a good-” “Let me drive you home, darlin’,” Joel interrupts you, taking your hand in his. You shake your head. “I live like ten feet away from here, you don’t have to drive me.” “I know I don’t. I want to. No buts, c'mon.”

Despite your reassurance that you’re fine and that he doesn’t need to bring you upstairs, Joel’s currently in your apartment, fixing you a glass of water and an Advil. You should know better by now than to expect anything less from him - he’s a gentleman through and through.

“Let’s get you to bed, darlin’,” he leads you into your bedroom, helping you out of your clothes and into a new shirt and pair of shorts. “Thanks, Joel. It was really nice seeing you tonight,” you murmur, your eyes getting heavy as soon as your head hits your soft pillow. “You too, sweetheart.”

You think you feel him put a soft kiss on your lips and murmur something when you drift off to sleep. You're probably just dreaming already.

If only you knew how much you mean to me.

Something’s off when you wake up in the morning. You rub your eyes, stretch, look around your room and can’t figure out what it is. Only when you step into your living room, it hits you. Your AC is working. You smile to yourself and look for your phone. 

You: Thank you, mr. contractor

Joel: Anything for you, babe

—--

part 1 || part 3 || series masterlist

[stayconnecteed]

🪐˓⠀˚⠀seven⠀@⠀masterlist.

synopsys: when you got the invitation to your little sister's wedding you couldn't refuse. of course you couldn't. your baby was going to take the big step with the boy who made her so happy, and the only thing you had to do was cross the world for that week of celebrations in australia, ready to enjoy the event. at least until you discovered that your roommates were two of the groom's men, and that you were going to have to share a bed with one of them. oh, and that they were sleeping together. but everyone hooks up at weddings, right? it's no big deal… right?

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀pairing ★ han jisung x afab!reader x lee felix.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀genres ★ non!idol au, wedding au ; friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, roommates to lovers, one bed trope, oblivious to love (idiots to lovers), it kind of starts as a love triangle but, polyamory.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀warnings ★ i would say it mainly is a mix between comedy and angst. . . and spicy smut. swearing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, insecurities, reader's mother is slightly toxic, our fav trio makes a lot of mistakes, felix&jisung are best men for chan - i think chan as a husband is a warning per se. more warnings per chapter.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ this is my baby !! i've been working for months in this series, and jilix is one of my fav ship dynamics in the group, so it's kind of a shout out because i haven't seen a lot of jilix fics out there. big big thank you to @lyramundana !! you know half of my works wouldn't exist if it weren't for you 🤍

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀credits ★ mdni banner by @cafekitsune + warnings : if any under 18 / ageless acc interacts with this series i'll block them.

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀taglist.

ㅤ00.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE ARRIVAL（ sunday. ）10 . 6 k words⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ01.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE ASSASSIN（ monday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ02.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE BEACH（ tuesday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ03.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE KARAOKE（ wednesday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ04.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE CONFLICT（ thursday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ05.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE WEDDING（ friday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ06.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE MISTAKE（ saturday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤ07.ㅤㅤ —⠀⠀THE RUNAWAY（ sunday. ）⠀❞ㅤ

ㅤㅤ© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition V)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

New in Town by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hey!! could you write a story where a new girl at school decides to nervously go up to Eddie during lunch? She gently taps his shoulder to get his attention to ask him something. ahh I don’t know you can decide what she wants to ask him! lol meanwhile Eddie is just “🤨…😍”

Horror Movies & Chill by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

Satanic Panic by @hand-candy-writing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you encounter eddie munson in the cafeteria during his satanic panic rant, but quickly distract him from his tirade.”

Happy Hours (Series, Ongoing) by @bangaveragewhitewine (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader Summary: When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break. A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

Simmer (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve

Pairing: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “welcome to hawkins’ number one diner! where the staff don’t wanna be there and the linecook is a grumpy metal head who likes to argue with his boss and ignore everyone else. but the new waitress can’t hack the rude customers and the regulars can be a little… much.” 

Pretty Eyes by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hii!! ok so you know that scene when Eddie is first introduced in Season 4 episode 1 where he’s exclaiming out things about conforming to society, and he’s jumping off the table and whatnot?? i was wondering if you could do something where Eddie ends up bumping into a girl while he’s moving around so dramatically, and instead of calling him a freak like he expects, she shyly apologizes for running into him when it was clearly his fault. He’d be the type to be so confused and yet go “Guys I’m in love-”😂

Bruises by @lonelysatellites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”

Don’t Call Me ‘Baby’ (Series, Completed) by @katyswrites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would both tell yourselves, later on. It had started with a bet. You were a cocktail waitress, studying abroad in Rome and working yourself to death to keep yourself afloat. Steve Harrington was a business executive for one of the biggest tech companies in the world, ten years your senior, and earnest enough that it intrigued you. But, there was only one problem - he doesn’t do relationships. Not now, perhaps not ever. So, a deal is struck - something mutually beneficial. No attachments, and you get to be his perpetual mistress, while he makes sure you want for nothing. But, what happens when the agreement becomes more than what either of you bargained for?”

Same Old Song and Dance (Mini-Series, Completed) by @m0llygunn (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bully!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.”