#i want to hear their lovely wonderful voices... to feel they way they hold me and have their fingers intertwine w mine đ„șđđ
Love Like This - Matt Murdock
summary: Matt has never felt anything like this, never mind a love like this.
word count: ~1k
warnings: porn with plot (finally!!) - oral (F receiving), p in v, suuuper lovey dovey stuff - 18+ MDNI
note: felt like writing something super loved up! hope itâs ok :))
Matt often wonders how someone with a heart like yours has fallen for someone with a heart like his.
When he comes home from work and smells you. Sitting on his couch, he knows you have your eyes glued to the tv by the way you donât even realise heâs walked in.
âHi, sweetheart.â He smirks, glasses and cane placed in his usual spot.
âOh, hey! sorry i got really invested again.â Youâre laughing now, and he can feel the vibrations through his chest.
There has always been something about you that made Matt feel like the world would heal again. The way you laughed, the way you grab his arm when he makes a good joke, the way you hum to yourself while you clean - everything, right down to the way your breathing hitches slightly in your dreams. There was always something about you that Matt just got.
âYou know how much i love you, right?â He says, tie now across the back of the couch, few buttons undone, as he sits next to you with one arm around you. âCourse i do. and you know how much i love you?â Youâre very aware of how soppy youâd sound to other people, but these moments come rarely with Matt so you take them as they come.
You move to straddle him on his couch, holding his stubbled cheeks in your hands as he smiles up at you.
âI do.â
Mattâs lips meet yours in a loving, gentle moment - and it almost makes you wonder what has made him so lovey today. He always loves you, and heâs no stranger in showing you that, but itâs not often heâs so open about his feelings.
As the kiss is becoming deeper, tongues meeting, his hands move under the t-shirt of his that adorns your skin nearly every night.
âMmm, so beautiful,â He mutters to himself, lifting your t-shirt over your head and letting your fingers work across the buttons of his suit shirt, âCan never get enough of you.â
âNeed you.â You speak, lips still attached to his.
Tough hands flip you onto your back, leather couch sticking to the slight sheen of sweat against your skin. Now only in underwear, you feel much more exposed than him. âMatt, need to see you, please.â You smile, and he doesnât even reply before taking off his shirt and undoing his belt, letting his suit pants fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing.
âWanna make you feel so good, sweetheart.â Matt whispers, leaning down and letting his nose meet your naked thigh, biting gently and relishing in the muted moan that leaves your lips.
Silently, you sit begging for his touch, only hearing your breaths between each other. He knows what you want, what you need, but heâs just existing in the moment.
âH- Shit.â Words have now left you, as he licks a long stripe up your folds, leaving you breathless at his touch, âTaste so good.â Matt talks between your thighs, running his tongue in circles around your clit.
All thoughts leave your mind, your body the only thing existing with the way it feels under Mattâs touch. His hands hold your wrists down at the side of your body, feeling how tense your arms become when you can feel an orgasm building,
âAlways so wet, all for me, love.â He smirks, letting his teeth graze your clit softly, before going right back to his little kitten licks. All that can be heard in his loft is your breathy moans, Matt relishing in the way you sound each time he touches you.
Before you know it, youâre right on the edge of the point you desperately need to tip over, and youâre begging for more. âM- Please, fuck iâm-â Youâre well aware you donât make much sense, but all you care about is the way his mouth is making you feel. âCome for me, sweetheart.â
His deep, growling voice was all you needed to fly across the line. Hearing muffled, your back arches off Mattâs sofa, his hands moving to your hips as his mouth doesnât slow down, leading you through your orgasm.
âMatt, fuck me.â You mumble, pins and needles still running through your fingertips from your erratic breathing.
âPatience, love.â He giggles, standing up to strip himself of his boxers before sitting down with his back to the couch. As you straddle him again, you think of all the memories you share and the nights spent on his sofa together.
As you sink down onto him, his head falls to your shoulder, groaning to himself about how right you feel around him, âAlways wrap around me so well.â his hands graze up your skin, meeting both of your tits, thumbs running across your nipples as he listens to how fast it sends your heart rate.
âM- Feel so good, so good.â You babble, bouncing softly up and down, feeling how deep heâs reaching inside your walls.
The way your slick is slowly hitting the base of his cock is sending Mattâs brain wild, the feeling of you so tightly around him making him realise how he fell so in love with you so quickly, everything about you feels amazing.
âAhh- keep going, beautiful.â He realises it sounds like heâs begging, and maybe he is.
âPlease, come inside me.â Youâre now doing the same, letting his thumb meet your clit, rubbing tight circles craving the way it feels for you to finish around him once more.
You both come together, lips tensely meeting, teeth clashing. A throaty groan comes from Matt as his hips falter, feeling the way you clench around him as thick white ropes paint your walls.
Once youâve both cooled off, cleaned up as per Matt, you finally get to sit down and talk about the day.
âHmm, doesnât matter.â he mutters, lying back in the bed with you on his chest, breathing returned back to normal.
âWhat matters then? i wanna know âbout your day.â You laugh, leaning upwards to look at the way heâs sitting, eyes closed, fully relaxed in the sheets.
âYou.â
â
tags
@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs
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Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)
This is the from the 4th anniversary event.
As usual, canât guarantee 100% accuracy on this.Â
(âI didnât expect this)
Alter!Keith: You donât even look sleepy.
Emma: Youâll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.
Alter!Keith: So youâre saying you didnât cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?
Emma: WellâŠI wouldnât say cry, but rather, Iâve gotten so angry I thought Iâd explode.
Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Wouldâve been interesting to see you rage.
Moonlight dimly lit the room.
Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.
The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating.Â
Alter!Keith: âŠ
Sorry.
(...For what happened back at the estate, Iâm guessing)
(I have a feeling heâs not used to apologizing)
The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.
Emma: Just words?
Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?
Emma: I want you to sleep.
Alter!Keith: Youâre still worried about these dark circles? Too bad Iâm not feeling sleepy.
Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.
Alter!Keith: Iâm still not done dealing with those people, so thereâll be trouble if he comes to the front.
âŠWell, causing trouble would be convenient for me.
Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldnât sense his true intentions.
Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.
(Wicked Prince Keith didnât have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)
(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)
(So much more than I could ever imagineâŠHe only lives for the nice Prince Keith)
(Probably never for himself)
I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.
(Iâm frustrated by the fact that I canât do anything to help, even when Iâm right beside him)
(But I donât want to keep being someone that canât do anything)
Alter!Keith: Hm?
I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.
I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keithâs ears.
Alter!Keith: What are you doing?
Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax.
Thereâs too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away.
âŠPlease let me at least do this.
(I want to help lift this burden, even if itâs just for now)
Alter!Keith: âŠ
Prince Keithâs sigh melted into the dimly lit room.
Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.
Alter!Keith: That guyâs future fiancee sure is softhearted.
Emma: âŠHow did you know?
Alter!Keith: You donât look like the type to invite someone else to your room when youâre engaged.
A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.
Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the futureâŠ
Is that guy finally smiling?
(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)
Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.
Emma: âŠYes, heâs smiling. So, so much.
Every day, from morning to night, heâll smile on various occasions.
Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyesâŠAh, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cuteâŠ
And before we sleepâmmph.
Alter!Keith: I didnât tell you to gush about it.
(Hmm, I was doing that)
I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.
Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like heâs happyâŠelse thereâd be no point in me being around.
âŠ
That guy came back.
(AhâŠ)
Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.
Alter!Keith: HuhâŠme?
Emma: Of course.
Alter!Keith: WhatâŠI didnât disappear?
(Ah, I thought so)
~~ Flashback ~~
Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.
~~ End flashback ~~
(Itâs been on his mind this whole time)
(The way he said it, he assumed he didnât exist anymore in the future)
Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, itâs only natural for him to think that way.
(But I donât want him to assume that)
(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)
Emma: In the future, Iâm engaged to both Prince Keiths.
I love you both and youâre both more important to me than anything else.
Alter!Keith: âŠ
Emma: Thatâs why I donât want you to think youâre someone that will disappear. I wonât let you think that.
I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.
When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.
It looked like he believed me.
Emma: Iâm still new to it, so thereâs only so much I can do to help you.
But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.
Alter!Keith: Youâve already done enough.
Actually, IâŠ
Your words saved me.
The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.
--
(MmmâŠIâm inâŠ)
Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.
When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keithâs room.
(Everything that just happened was all a dream)
(It was a pretty realistic dreamâŠmy heart still aches a bit)
Alter!Keith: Thought you werenât in your own room. You were here instead.
Emma: AhâŠPrince Keith.
(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)
Alter!Keith: âŠ
(Whatâs wrong?)
When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.
He awkwardly patted my head.
Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.
Emma: AhâŠWell, I was remembering the dream I had.
Alter!Keith: âŠThat so. Then nothing happened to you.
Emma: Sorry for worrying you.
Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.
Emma: Eep!
After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.
The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.
(Back then and now, Prince Keithâs kindness never changed)
Emma: Um, so your official duties�
Alter!Keith: Iâm done with them.
Emma: You finished pretty early today.
Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you.
Since itâs your day off, thereâs no point in my working that hard in the first place.
(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)
(...So you want to spend time with me?)
Emma: MnnâŠ
He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.
It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.
We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.
(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)
(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)
Warmth spread in my chest.
(I want this to keep being the norm for him)
With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.
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AOAUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MIS AMORESSS
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no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)
in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex
18+ (fluff, implied intimacy)
warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all
a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me
âHey. Are you with me, angel?â
You blink your eyes open in the dark roomâreorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?
âHm?â
He chucklesâa quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face.Â
âI asked you if youâre with me.â
It takes you a moment to answer. Youâre still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by oneâthe weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin.Â
âOh.â
Itâs not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern.Â
âYou okay?â
This time you donât try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping heâll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until youâre sure you wonât float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately.Â
âCan you answer me?â He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment laterâ âBaby. I wanna hear your voice.â
âMhm,â you manage.Â
Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry.Â
âWasnât too much? Youâre not hurting anywhere?â
You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you canât seem to get him close enough.Â
âMm-mm.â
Itâs not entirely trueâyour legs are sore, but itâs nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but heâs already working on that.Â
He hums. âYouâre pretty out of it, sweet girl. Whatâs going on with you?â
Spencer is always careful with you. Heâd never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, heâs just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mindâthe ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. Itâs all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when youâre with him, but it doesnât make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe itâs precisely because you trust him so much that youâre so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where youâre at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners youâd had before.Â
Again, heâs patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, youâre breathing out something that feels true.Â
âOverwhelmed.â
The word is a tap against glass you didnât know was there until itâs fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up.Â
âOh,â he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. âDo you need me to back off for a minute?â
You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case.Â
âShh. Youâre okay,â he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesnât really expect you to stop crying. âYouâre okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?â
Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle.Â
âAnd how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a⊠a reset button?â
âMhm.â
âMhm.â He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before youâre melting in his hold. âItâs okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. Itâs actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?â
âRight.â
âWould you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?â
âYes.â
If you were looking at him you know heâd be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. âYou can just nod, baby. You donât have to talk. I know youâre tired.â
You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as theyâd come.Â
âDo you want a bath in a little while?â
Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. âOkay. Weâll do a bath, and then dinner, and then Iâm finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. Itâs a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the directorâs tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.â
Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that youâll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this.Â
Heâs actually really looking forward to it.
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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.
simon really meant it, every bit of it, heâd come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. heâd rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.
thatâs what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldnât focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didnât feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?
he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes werenât doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.
it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasnât moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.
he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldnât last long alone. heâd been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.
the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or heâd hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you werenât really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.
your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.
he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.
âi wonder what sheâs doing now, whoâs gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.â he thought. âhopefully price. heâs the one with tact and the most considerate. heâll help her when iâm gone, keep an eye on her.â
the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.
âpromise me something?â
âmhm?â he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadnât stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. âyeah, anything.â
âpromise me youâll always come back.â you whispered in the dark room. âpromise me, simon.â
he nodded, taken aback by your request. you werenât the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.
âyes.â
âpromise.â you urged. âplease.â
he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. âi will, love. iâll always come back to you.â
you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. âmh.â
âbetter now?â he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. âi mean it.â
he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.
fucks sake, he couldnât let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.
his legs didnât feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.
âcrawlinâ it is.â he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.
he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.
he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.
he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.
he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.
âlt!â johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. âye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.â
âgaz saw you get shot.â price swung simonâs arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.
âhe saw that right.â simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. âis he aâight?â
âheâs fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, heâs getting checked out by the medics.â price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. âthereâs at least two bullets in here, didnât pass through, stuck.â
âjust take âem the fuck out.â simon groaned. âhowâs it lookinâ?â
âyouâll live.â price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.
âwe really thought weâd lost ye there, lt.â johnnyâs face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.
âhelicopterâs leaving in thirty, boys!â priceâs baritone voice called from the other room.
simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where itâd been standing, silently looking at him. âwonât lose me, canât wait to go home, johnny.â
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Swelter
Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarahâs father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friendâs dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joelâs cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarahâs childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarahâs bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesnât even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasnât changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a womanâs magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. Thereâs a page with the recipe for âThe Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!â next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
âWhat?â Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
âWhat kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Donât get greedy now!â You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
âSeriously? We canât win,â she groans dramatically, âChocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.â
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. Itâs him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
âDad,â Sarah says with exasperation, âI thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.â
âItâs gettinâ colder outside now,â he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, âThe Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavementâs coolinâ down.â
âI walked him when I was fourteen,â she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, âIâm twenty.â
âJust âcause youâre grown, donât mean you canât do right by âem,â he states matter-of-factly.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
âHiya darlinâ,â he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, âGet your butt off that chair.â
âFine,â she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, âAnd what about my guest?â
âSheâs grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour youâll be gone,â he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
âIâll just get that assignment done while youâre out,â you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
âSee?â Joel looks triumphant.
âYouâd make a hell of a lawyer,â she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Millerâs image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that itâs near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. Itâs not that you canât concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joelâs voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarahâs father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joelâs hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities werenât many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didnât want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommyâs wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarahâs room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
âSarah, I needââ
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
âFuck,â you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, âChrist, âm so sorry, sweetheart.â
âItâs okay, Mr. Miller,â you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
âHi, Mr. Miller,â you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldnât understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
âHey kiddo,â he returns with a smile, âHow many times do I gotta say to ya that itâs just Joel?â
âAlright, Mr. Miller,â you tease, ââI mean, Just Joel.â
You hear him laugh softly but you donât dare look at him, afraid that youâll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
âIâm just getting something to drink,â you explain when it becomes too much, âSarahâs room is boiling hot.â
âThatâs fine, take what youâd like,â he replies, and thereâs a kind teasing in his voice. âBut donât touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.â
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
âNow I have to get one of those,â you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadnât been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
âFuck! Ow ow ow!â You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
âSarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,â Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, âSweetheart, âtis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.â
âIt really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,â you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
âI know,â he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, âLemme take a look. Lie down on your front.â
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
âItâs alright, sweetheart. I can see it,â his breath was slightly quicker but you didnât want to jump to conclusions, âHe really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.â
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, âCan you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.â
âHow?â You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, âMy dressâll ride up.â
âJust bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,â he explained and cleared his throat once more, âOn my life, I wonât look.â
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and heâd find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and itâs the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joelâs jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, âYouâre trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.â
âOh, whatever will I do?â You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
âGo morally bankrupt?â He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
âOnly that?â You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle youâre sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
âGive it here,â he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. Thereâs electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can thatâs been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. Youâre worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, âItâs so hot outside today. Donât think Iâll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.â
âCâmon, sweetheart,â he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, âI know Iâm always teasinâ ya but you canât be doing this.â
âJesus Christ, Joel,â you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, âItâs just very hot⊠and itâs not like you havenât had a peek.â
âHey now,â he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, âThat ainât a fair accusation.â
âIâm not accusing you of anything,â you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, âBut youâre not denying it.â
âDonât tryna make me look like the pervert here,â he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, âI noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.â
âWhat do you mean?â You furrow your brows in confusion, âYour hands were never on mââ
âDid that bee sting really hurt that much?â He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, âYeah, I saw her; your pussy wet fâme.â
Itâs true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You canât imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if itâs simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
âDid ya touch yourself after?â His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
âDuring my shower that you told me to take,â you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, âI couldnât stop myselfâ I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...â
This is a crossroad, you realize, youâve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesnât want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - heâll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesnât try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
âIs this whatâll quiet down that mind of yours?â He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, âIf I take a peek more to get it outta our system?â
âWhat are you doing?â You ask as if you do not know. Itâs your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
âI ainât doing nothinâ that you havenât already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendinâ me heart eyes all week,â he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, âGood girl.â
âYou shouldnâtââ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joelâs eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the carâs hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joelâs belt, âWe shouldnât be doing this.â
âYouâre damn right we shouldnât be doinâ this,â he agrees immediately but doesnât stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you donât want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if thereâs an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldnât want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like youâve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. Itâll hurt. You want it to if it means that you wonât doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
âTell me you want this too,â he seeks your reassurance.
âSo fucking badly, Mr. Millerâ Joel,â you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, âPlease, want you in me.â
âJeez, honey,â his breath shakes, âAlready so eager. I havenât even felt if sheâs ready fâme.â
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you donât think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like youâre in a state of agony.
âShhhâŠâ he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, âYouâre grippinâ me so good, doll, canât wait to fuck this pussy. Donât cry like that. Be patient.â
âPlease, Iâm soââ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, âItâs yours, please.â
âI know itâs mine, donât gotta say it, I know,â he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what youâve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
âGoddamn, you are tight,â he says through gritted teeth, âFeels fuckinâ amazinâ.â
âAh,â you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, âJoel, I canât.â
âYes, you can, honey,â he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know itâs because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, âStay still, let her get used to it.â
âIt hurts,â you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
âI know but ya just gotta relax,â he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, âThatâs it, honey. Just enjoy this until youâre creaminâ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.â
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, âBabydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekinâ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?â
âPlease, yes, oh please,â you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
âYes, yes, yesyesyesâ oh God, Iâm⊠fuck, Iâm coming!â You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
âGood girl,â he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, âOh sweetheart, youâre choking my dick so gââ
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
âFuck,â you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, âFelt too good, honey. This pussyâs makinâ me all sweet on you.â
âIâm that irresistible?â You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, âYouâre makinâ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Cominâ too soon like a goddamn teenager.â
âI liked it,â you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, âMade me feel sexy and powerful.â
He scoffs but canât fight the smile on his face, âNow now, donât get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs fâme.â
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
âNow look at that,â he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like heâs paid to do it.
âJesus,â you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joelâs hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You donât think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesnât stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
âJoelâ holy fuck, youâre incredible,â you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
âNo! Please,â your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, âPlease, Daddy! Pleasepleasepleaââ
âWhat the fuck did you just say tâme?â He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, âI was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, Iâm gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.â
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
âJoel, oh myâ fuck!â You whimper.
âWrong word,â he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because thereâs no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, âDaddy, oh Iâ mhmm, Iâm gonna come for you. Donât stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleasepleaâ!â
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isnât holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
âShh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, donât it? Thatâs it,â Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you donât know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
âSoundproof,â he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, âYou good? Didnât cause any brain damage, did I?â
âYou think this truck has ever seen action like that before?â You joke breathlessly.
âProbably ainât the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,â he says with an apologetic smile, âSorry âbout that.â
âDisappointed? Youâre insane,â you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, âI came two times. Hard. Iâm not complaining.â
âJust saying that I woulda liked to do it⊠properly, I guess,â he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
âThis doesnât have to be a one-time thing,â you try to act casual as you say it but thereâs no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
âAnd when would we have time for that?â He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, âWe canât, honey.â
âWe just did,â you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarahâs room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, âWhen?â
âArenât you driving me to the airport on Sunday?â You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
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Can I request some more angst đ« đ« Iâm a sucker for your sad fics
tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?
â
: summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you
â
: feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris
â
: genre :: ANGST; no hea
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: word count :: 4k+
â
 : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day postingđ€ babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something elseđ
Max Verstappen
âMate, you still havenât told her?â you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.
It was low, so low that you almost didnât catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, âI donât know how to.â
That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful placeâno, it was ripped out.
God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?
âIt has been going on for too long, Max.â Lando took a deep breath. âYou should tell her you love her; sheâll understand.â
Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?
âHow do you think I should go about it?â Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.
The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Landoâs last words finally processed.
âYou shouldâve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.â
âBet?â you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?
âNo bet!â you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didnât even know what you were saying out loud.
âFor fuckâs sake,â Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. âY/N deserves to know.â You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.
âIâm sorry, Y/N,â you finally looked at your boyfriendâs best friend. âI clearly shouldnât have trusted Max toââ
âI think you should leave,â Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.
But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.
âY.. youâre saying I was a bet?â Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Maxâs turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.
âYou asked me ouââ Oh god, you didnât want to cry, ââbecause of a dare?â
Maxâs eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. âNo, Y/N, itâs not like that, please, let me explain.â
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. âExplain what, Max?â Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. âHow aâŠall i have beâ this relationship has been is a fucking lie?â
The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.
His voice broke, choked with emotion. âNo, Y/N, I swear, it wasnât like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, itââ His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. âI called the whole thing off.â
You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. âYou should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you shoââ Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. âHow could you do this to m.. me?â
Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. âI was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didnât want to lose you. You mean everything to me.â
You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someoneâs apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now?
Your voice came out in a broken whisper. âHow can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?â You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.
Landoâs voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. âHeâs telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but heâs been head over heels for you for a long time.â
Maxâs tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. âPlease, Y/N. Iâll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... donât leave me.â His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.
You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. âI canât be here.â You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.
Maxâs anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.
You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.
Lewis Hamilton
âY/N, baby pleaseââ
Lewisâs voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.
To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.
How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?
You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.
âIâm sorry, but I don't know what youâre doing here,â you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights.
âWhere else would I be?â he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, âIf not with the most beautiful girl in this club?â
He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.
At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your earsâ his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?
âHow could you?â you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. âWas I just a game to you?â That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.
You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.
His friend had dared him because Lewisâ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.
Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. âNo, Y/N, please listen to meââ
You shook your head, cutting him off. âDonât. Just donâtâŠâ
âPlease,â he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. âI love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.â
You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldnât recognize the man standing in front of youâ the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. âYou should have thought about that beforeâŠâ
Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.
How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?
Carlos Sainz
The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.
âI can't believe we wouldnât be here if I hadnât dared Carlos to ask you out,â Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.
Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.
Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlosâ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.
âUh, nothing,â Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.
You turned to Carlos. âWhatâs going on?â Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.
He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. âWe should talk about this at home.â
You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.
âNo, weâre talking about it here. Whatâs going on?â you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.
Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. âI didnât want to tell you like this.â He stopped himself again.
âTell me what?â Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.
Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, âJust tell her, for Godâs sake!â You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.
âI dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!â Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.
Your heart pounded in your chest. âWhat?â The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.
âPlease, it wasnât like that,â Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.
You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. âWasnât like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!â
Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.
âThis whole time, I was just a fucking⊠dare to you?â you shouted.
People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.
âCarlos, stop!â One of his friends tried to pull him back.
âYou all think this is funny?â Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. âGet your own fucking life!â
You stood up, tears streaming down your face. âIâm done with this,â you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.
As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didnât care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.
Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.
Charles Leclerc
You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldnât, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.
The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldnât remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. âI dare you to ask that girl out,â Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldnât tell who he was pointing at. âBet you can't do it.â
Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. âYou're on,â he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.
Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.
Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotionsâ betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.
At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. âHey, love. What are you up to?â he asked, not noticing your distress at first.
You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. âWhat is this?â you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.
Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. âBaby, how did youââ he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.
âDoes it matter?â you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. âWhen you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?â
âIt started as a bet, yes,â Charles admitted, his voice pained. âBut it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.â He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.
You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. âWho the fuck do you think you are?â You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldnât be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.
Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. âPlease, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.â
âDo you have any idea just how humiliating this is?â you shouted, your voice breaking. âI thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all⊠a gamble to you.â You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.
âIt is not a gamble,â Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. âNot after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.â He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.
âFuck you, youâre the one who ruined this!â you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldnât. âSeriously,â you said quietly, not looking at him. âFuck you.â You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. âYouâve ruined meâ
âBaby,â Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. âY/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.â
You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. âIt is still all a lie,â you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.
As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didnât stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.
Lando Norris
Landoâs phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friendsâ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.
âCanât believe Lando actually went through with it.â
âI know, right? Itâs hilarious that she still doesnât know!â
Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing youâ about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.
âThought heâd be gloating but he hasnât contacted at all.â
âShit, man, heâs been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!â
You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heartâ were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?
You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.
This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.
You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. âCare to explain this?â
Landoâs expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.
âFuck, you really had me convinced!â Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. âYou made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?â
âDon't say that,â Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. âY/N, I swear it wasnât like thatââ
âHow much was it?â you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. âBet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?â
âNo!â Your boyfrieâ ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldnât help but scoff but he carried on. âI never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadnât even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were andââ
Landoâs face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.
Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, Iâm so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. âI trusted you,â you whispered, voice breaking. âI loved you.â
The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?
Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. âIâm sorry,â he choked out, reaching for you. âI never meant for you to find out.â
He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldnât a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?
His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . âGet out,â you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. âPlease,â you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.
He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,âI.. Iâll be back, baby.â With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.
The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.
As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of acheâthe ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldnât be here.
Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldnât be there. You wouldnât be there to hold him as heâll slowly lose it running across the house while heâll look for you. None of your things would be there.
Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism
Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.
My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they donât know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didnât even mention me by name, just referring to me as âa tumblr userâ. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)
This experience was baffling, but itâs overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying âMatPat misgendered Evil Xisumaâ before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)
And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kidâs ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.
And thatâs why Iâm writing this post, this update years later. As you mightâve been able to guess, Hbomberguyâs Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.Â
In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.
Thatâs the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than âEvil Xisuma Fans on Tumblrâ is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,Â
âIâm sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.â
I donât think I wouldâve ever made my posts if I didnât have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this wouldâve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I donât usually type like this. This post youâre reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video couldâve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.
I also used to stress a lot about âbeing the one who ruined Evil Xisumaâs storyâ. If you didnât know, to me S8 Evil Xisumaâs story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this mightâve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I donât want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didnât want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but itâs not my fault. If anyoneâs, itâs MatPats, but I donât think itâs useful to just blame someone else. Thatâs how the story ended up going, and thatâs fine. This is Evil Xisuma weâre talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sonaâs story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but Iâm glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).Â
Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisumaâs lore and CarnEvilâs lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isnât something Iâm that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma Iâll get back on it, but for now Iâm fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis⊠if I have the freetime Iâd love to make YouTube videos, and if I donât have the time Iâll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough âcontentâ to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, Iâm really glad I got it out.
If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things Iâm obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!Â
Sincerely, a tumblr user.
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
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Listening in and panicking
Mattheo, any Tom, Enzo, Theo, Blaise and Draco
Your boyfriend overhears you say something that makes him believe heâs not the one you planned to be with and panics, with each having their own dramatic reaction.
Thanks for the request! Usually itâs the reader that overhear something, so it was fun to focus on the guys overhearing something, misunderstanding it and panicking about it. I actually almost had this finished last weekend but Draco was being difficult and it took me another week to finish this! So Iâm happy itâs here! Sending you all a lot of love and kisses. Happy readings!
Mattheo
That the quidditch game hadnât gone well was a light way of putting it and Mattheo really needed you to brush through his hair so his muscles would instantly relax. For the past few hours Mattheo had been contemplating whether or not to crash your girls' night. He knew he could be demanding and didnât want to be the asshole boyfriend who ruined this for you. He was especially afraid of your judgy friends who probably didnât hold Mattheo in a high regard as a boyfriend. However, he was damn near losing it when he heard the Weasleyâs fireworks. âThey won a game. Not the cup.â He hissed, throwing away his cigarette and surrendering to the desire to be with you.
He could hear the giggling of girls when he approached Pansyâs dorm and took a deep breath as he raised his hand to give a gentle knock on the door.Â
Mattheo halts his movement as he hears your voice, he listens intently but is only able to make out some words. âWhat?! Someone like Cedric? How did you end up dating Mattheo Riddle of all people?â Pansyâs sharp voice sucks out all of Mattheoâs breath and heâs nailed to the floor as he listens to your voice. He canât really hear all youâre saying because your voice is soft and further away than Pansyâs, but he does make out one thing. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Matt.âÂ
Mattheoâs distrusting nature took this entirely the wrong way and he didnât even bother to listen in further. After those words his feet take him far away from you. His heart aches as he now believes heâs not the guy you want to be with while you are all he wants for the rest of his life. He feels suffocated by the fear of losing you and rushes out of the castle.Â
Itâs Fred that spots Mattheoâs appalled face first. âStill not over your epic loss.â He snickers, not aware that Mattheo is more than pleased to run into an excuse to punch. âGet off of my brother!â George screeches before taking a swing at Mattheo. Fuck, I forgot there are always two of them.
A soft knock at the door has all the girls narrow their eyes at the door. âAre we expecting anyone else?â Pansy looks disgusted at the thought of some loser girl wanting to join her elite girlsâ night, but as she gets up to open the door itâs Theodore who pushes it open just wide enough to stick his head through it. âYou better have a damn good excuse Nott.â Pansy crosses her arms with a death glare that would match your boyfriendâs. âMattheo.â Theo simply states making your heart skip a beat not just at your boyfriendâs name but at the seriousness of Theoâs voice. âThat guy is always in some kind of trouble and not an excuse to come in here.â Pansy snaps, far from interested in whatever mess Mattheo had gotten himself into, but you had already gotten up from your spot among the soft pillows. Pansy lets her head fall, not pleased that you were leaving, but you just give her an apologetic smile and pull your hoodie over your head.
Mattheo rolls his eyes when he sees you enter the hospital wing, but he also couldnât help but return his gaze to you. In short pyjama shorts and an oversized hoodie that Mattheo didnât recognize was his, you looked so innocent and for a moment he forgot that you broke his heart. You took a seat next to him on the hospital bed, while studying his injuries. âYouâre an idiot.â You whisper, but Mattheo just snorts and lets his head fall back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. âYeah well, apologies that Iâm no Cedric Diggory.â Mattheo says with a quiet but poisonous ring to it.Â
Your eyebrows knit together for a few seconds before it hits you. âUnbelievable.â You chuckle and Mattheo looks up at you with pained and confused eyes. How could you think this was funny when it was heartbreaking to him.Â
âYou sure are no Cedric Diggory.â The soft laugh that follows your words puts Mattheo at ease. âYouâre better than anything I had ever hoped for. So Matt, donât ever jump to conclusions as ridiculous as the ones circling your head now. I love you and I donât think I could ever love someone else.â Mattheo stares at you with a clenched jaw and glassy eyes. âI really hope so, because I donât want to lose you.â His voice is raspy and you give him a soft smile, before leaning in. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to feel your touch, deepening the kiss as soon as your lips brush his.Â
Tom
You and Tom had been dating for a while and it was clear that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend, but Tom was not one to put labels on relationships especially with all dark things surrounding him. He was losing his patience with Hogwarts and its professor questioning his ambitions. His always stoic and charming attitude had almost been broken by Dumbledoreâs intrusive questions. It had upset him to such a level that he needed you around regardless of your plans.
Agitated and in need of your calming voice Tom is ready to burst in and ruin girls night when he overhears you and your friends banther. âWhat, him? Heâs nothing like Tom?â Some girl squeals. âHeâs the exact opposite.â Another laughs. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Tom Riddle.â His eyes go dark the instant he hears you say his name. His tongue moves as his mind rages with absolute fury for you. You of all people, you that he needed more than anyone. He wasnât even your first choice. Suddenly all your friends in the room faint and you jump up, immediately checking for a pulse. Itâs in that silent moment of relief when you realise that your friends are just asleep that you hear footsteps outside.
You swing the door open with your wand ready in hand, but when you spot your boyfriend you relax. âYou canât just hex people.â You sigh, you tense up a bit when Tom turns to face you with emotionless eyes. âI can, I'm a wizard.â You knew better than to mess with him when he was as cold as he was now. âWhatâs going on?â You calmly ask, walking towards him. âExplain to me what you meant with âsomeone like Tom Riddleâ?â A featherlight huff of air escapes your lips as you meet his eyes, you canât keep a smile from tugging at the corner of your mouth. âSomeone who hexes four people to sleep because heâll take any excuse to believe that he is unloved, rather than listen to the sentence as a whole. I fell in love with you Tom Riddle and I donât intend to fall out of love with you.â Your boyfriend feels almost attacked by your words. You love me? âYou mean love as in the big sense of the word?â Tomâs voice is hesitant, failing to sound demanding or charming. âTom, the word love has no small sense of the word. Itâs a word thatâs always true and always full of emotion.âÂ
âShould I wake up your friends?â Tom offers, feeling a bit embarrassed at how he overreacted. You chuckle and walk over to him and heâs happy to wrap his arms around you as you think over his offer. âNah, I much rather spend the night with you.â His lips search yours for a tender kiss. I love you too.
Enzo
Your boyfriend was insulted when you picked Pansy over him. We could be having a bath together, but no girlsâ night. I need a new girlfriend⊠Who am I kidding, I need just mine asap. Ignoring his friends warnings about how dangerous Pansy could be when someone interrupted her gossip nights, Enzo basically ran to Pansyâs dorm, like he needed you for urgent matters. Then again, in Enzoâs book intimate quality time with you was always an urgent matter. He needed you and he would have you now. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Enz.â Enzoâs happy puppy face falss the second he recognises it was you talking.Â
The next morning an unwashed, unshaven, not properly dressed Enzo is picking at his food when you jump in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He lets you, but he doesnât react and you frown, looking over at his friends you see them raise their shoulders. Odd. You shuffle between him and Blaise and turn to face your boyfriend. âTalk to me Enz?â âNot hungry.â He states and without even giving you one look he gets up from the table and leaves. You are absolutely frozen in your seat at what had just happened. âWhat did you do?â Mattheo asks, unable to hide his curiosity and amusement. No one had ever seen Enzo like this so everyone at the table was dying to know what had happened, but you didnât have a clue.Â
You take breakfast on the go and follow your boyfriend. Quickly stuffing your mouth as you head for his room. You enter and see him lying on his bed with his back turned towards you. âEnz, talk to me, whatâs wrong?â You get no response except for a lazy shrug so you decide to move closer and sit by his side. As soon as you do so he turns around so again his back is facing towards you. At this point you were getting slightly annoyed with his behaviour. âEnz-â âJust break up with me already!â Enzo snaps and he jumps up heading for the door.
When you see him angrily swing open the door you snap. âSit your ass down, Berkshire!â Enzo stops in his tracks and for a second no one moves, not you, not Enzo, not the people in the slytherin common room who were absolutely terrified of what was about to go down. Enzo closes the door and turns to face you. You immediately notice his tired eyes and you walk over to him. âEnz-â Your soft voice breaks your boyfriendâs stubborn attitude. âIâm nothing like the type of guy you wanted⊠you just accidentally ended up with me.â Your eyebrows knit together and Enzo explains himself further. âI overheard you and your friends talk last night, I wasnât listening in or anything, I just missed you.â His voice sounds painfully broken and your grab his hands meet his eyes with a sincerity. âI didnât accidentally end up with you. You charmed me. You spend days flirting your way into my life, my head and my bed⊠You made me fall in love with you and oh boy did I fall for you, Enzo Berkshire, you and all your charm. Did first year me think to ever end up with you? No. Do I ever want anyone else? No! You are the one, Enzo.â A small smirk tugs on his lips as he canât hide his happiness anymore. âIâm the one?â Your boyfriend questions sheepishly and you nod, making him smile brightly. âIâm the one.â He repeats, eyebrows wiggling, pleased with that new piece of information.Â
Theo
Stealing you away from a girls night wouldnât be easy, but Theodore had come prepared. He hated himself for being this needy and this cheesy, but he flicked away his cigarette anyways and picked up a small box filled with your favourite snacks. His friends and everyone else at Hogwarts were starting to see that the tough guy act that Theodore had been keeping up for years was cracking as his softer side was becoming more and more visible everyday all because of you, the love of his life. Walking towards Pansyâs dorm a small smile creeps up your boyfriendâs lips as he stares at the snacks in his hands. Salazar, Iâm whipped for this girl and I donât even mind. Your voice interrupts his thoughts and his eyes lift to the door in front of him. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Theo.â Pansy snickers âYeah, heâs nothing like the guy you just described. So weird you fell for him.â You chuckle at Pansyâs words. âSilly, I know.â The word silly rings in Theodoreâs mind as he speedwalks away.Â
âI so want to marry him.â You laugh and continue dreaming out loud. âHe would be such a sweet and sexy husband⊠oh and omg he would be the greatest dad to our kids. I just know heâll be so invested with their dreams and hobbies.â You roll on your back and stare up at the ceiling, when you sigh in a dreamy way Pansy smashes a pillow in your face. âHello! Girls night, stop dreaming about your boyfriend⊠and instead tell us nasty sex stories or something.â Everyone burst out laughing and you spend the night not having a clue that in Theodoreâs mind you two were done.
The next morning you are still unaware of your break up and instead fall in love even more when you find a box filled with your favourite snacks outside of Pansyâs dorm. âThatâs just disgustingly adorable.â Pansy jokes as you walk in the direction of the great hall. âHusband material.â You sing and smile at Pansy. However, you stop in your tracks when you spot Theo lazily hanging over some girl's shoulder joking with her about something. He notices you and you want to smile, but he instantly looks away making you frown. You and Pansy walk over to him, but your heart already knows something is wrong. When you stand beside him Theodore reluctantly pulls his attention away from the pretty girl at the table to give you an agitated look. âLook (y/n), I heard you last night, Iâm not the guy you planned on ending up with and I donât mind, but letâs not waste any more time on this relationship and just go our own way.â You stand there absolutely perplexed and youâre absolutely horrified to hear some girls giggling at the scene in front of them. When you finally open your mouth Theo doesnât even let you speak. âItâs been fun, but really Iâm busy here.âÂ
Never had anyone stomped on your heart and humiliated you like this. With teary eyes you turn around and rush out of the great hall, only to hear Ron hushed voice, âThat was brutal.â, followed by loud smack, probably Hermoine.Â
Theodore didnât even look as you walked away, but Pansyâs silent but demanding presence forces him to again look away from the girl heâs trying to play. When Theo looks up Pansy wastes no time. âYou absolute baboon!â Thereâs a silence as she just looks at him like heâs vermin. âFirst of all you donât eavesdrop.â She smacks him on his arm. âSecondly, you missed out on the part where she said she wants to marry you.â Smacks him again. âContrary to her opinion, I think you would be a shit dad considering you are a god awful boyfriend.â Smacks him even harder. âGo apologise!â âBut she said-â âApologise!â Pansyâs shriek horrified everyone in the great hall, but Theodore just stood there confused. He had been so convinced you didnât really want him, you had just fallen for him but it was never supposed to last and now Pansyâs telling him that you want the same as him, marriage and a life together.
Slowly and slightly terrified Theo opens the door to your room. Heâs immediately met with the sound of your sobs and when he spots your figure curled up into a ball his heart breaks even harder than it had done yesterday. You turn around expecting to see Pansy, but youâre shocked to see an apologetic looking Theodore slowly walking towards you. âNo!â You snap at him and get up. âGet out!â You yell and throw a pillow at his head. âPlease listen, I made a mistake.â You grab the table lamp on your night stand. âYes, you did by coming here!â Heâs quick to grab your hand and keep you from smashing the lamp on his head. âDonât. You love this lamp.â You girth your teeth, of course Theodore knows you love that lamp, he knows everything about you. You start sobbing again and Theo struggles to find words so he just gets to his knees. âIt was a misunderstanding. I thought I was just a fling to you and it broke my heart⊠and I did a dumb thing.â Your eyes go wide. âA fling? You thought you were a fling?â You canât believe your dumb ass boyfriend. Theodore takes your hand in his and kisses it softly. âPlease forgive me.â He begs in a soft voice. You look at him sitting on his knees, holding your hand, looking lost. âPlease.â He urges and you start laughing. âThere are no words to describe you, Theodore Nott.â Theo gets up and smiles. âHow about future husband? Does that describe me?â He pulls you closer and a cheeky smile forms on his lips. You loved him, but forced your smile into a line. âIâm still mad.â You state and your boyfriendâs confidence fades. âObviously. Just let me make this up to you.â You better!
Blaise
âI dare you.â M attheo whispered near Blaiseâs ear for the millionth time. âStill not playing.â Blaise sighs and Mattheo growls in annoyance. âWhy?â Blaise looks up from his book. âIâm not ruining my girlfriendâs girlâs night because you want me to spy on your crush⊠I also donât believe they would even let me stay.â Mattheo huffs. âI donât have a crush, itâs research, and you should at least try to get in there.â Blaise shakes his head no. âIâll do your homework.â Mattheo offers. âIâll do it better.â Blaise sings, making Theo chuckle. âIâll clean your side of the dorm.â Blaise looks up at Mattheo. âHave you cleaned a thing in your life?â Mattheo thinks about it and quickly realises that he needs to think of a different offer. âIâll shut up for at least 24h hours if you try to get in.â âOh, please Blaise, do me a favour and just go, so Matt will be silent.â Blaise sighs and gets up. âFine, Iâll take one for the team.â Draco and Theo both cheer, making Mattheo frown.
As Blaise approaches Pansyâs dorm he hears several girls snicker and followed by lots of chatter that he canât make out, until heâs right in front of the door. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Blaise.â Without a second though Blaise turns on his heels and walks back to his friends. Once there his friends all look up to see his horrified expectation. âYou okay mate?â Mattheo asks worriedly and Theodore puts his book down to listen, but Blaise canât form an answer. What does that mean? Why does she wonder about how she ended up with me?Â
Blaise just stares in front of him like he was solving some physics problem and not being very successful. Draco takes a piece of parchment from his study notes and forms it into a ball of paper before throwing it at Blaise who seems to wake up from his thoughts and again turn on his heels. âOdd.â Theodore says and Draco shrugs, but they all continue with their business.Â
Blaise is back at Pansyâs door and swings it open this time, making all your friends scream for a second. âWhat the hell, Zabini!â Pansy snaps. âWhy do you wonder how you ended up falling in love with someone like me?â Blaiseâs eyes focus on you. âWhat does that mean, someone like me? You mean my colour, my nerdiness, sporty side, or that Iâm a bad boy type of guy? And more importantly, are we done? I mean, I would like to know if youâre breaking up with me.â Pansy crosses her arms and groans, dropping her head before snapping at Blaise. âDid she not just say that she fell in love with you! Seriously, if you eavesdrop, at least do it right!âÂ
âIâm not breaking up with you!â Blaise sighs in relief and you get up from your seat. Blaise looks around and feels a bit embarrassed when he notices all your friends saw his moment of panic. âAnd what I meant with someone like you was someone as cool and composed as you⊠but I guess that facade just fell.â Blaise chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. âI guess I panicked for a moment, but that was only because I thought you were going to break up with me. Now Iâm cool again.â You smile and lick your lips. âIt was kinda sexy.â You whisper and his hands make their way to your hips as you kiss him.Â
âEw! Get that dude out of my girlâs night!â Pansy expresses her annoyances making you both smile into the kiss.Â
Draco
âGirls like it when you interrupt their little parties and show them love in front of all their friends.â Enzo frowns at Dracoâs statement. âYour girl might like it but Pansy will not.â Draco huffs and straightens his shoulders. âIâm not afraid of her.â This false play of bravery makes Enzo snort. âEven Matt is scared of Pansy and his father is the dark lord.â Enzo argues, but Draco just waves his arguments away and heads for Pansyâs dorm.Â
âThe guy you describe is nothing like Draco!â Pansy squeals, shocked by the person you had just described. âYeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Malfoy.â You say rather serious. Draco considers whether to continue listening in, but his ego is too bruised. Iâm not the kind of guy she wanted⊠Did she start dating me out of pity or somethingâŠ
After a few seconds Enzo sees Draco return, clearly upset. âTold you, Pansyâs scaryyy.â Enzo sings as Draco just speedwalks past him and Theodore lounging in the common room. Both Slytherins shrug, but make no move to check on Draco.Â
The next morning you joyfully walk, almost skip, to your boyfriend who is rather depressingly resting his head in hand as he stares endlessly in front of him. âBad night?â You ask in a gentle whisper and his eyes move to yours, but he doesnât answer, only the corners of his mouth twitch in response. The heartbrokenness is obvious in his eyes and your joy fades away as you sit beside him. âWho is he?â You almost hurt yourself trying to figure out who Draco is asking about. âThe guy you actually like?â You raise your eyebrows and his absurd question. âOh that guy, total moron⊠YOU! You dummy! I like you, you know that.â You laugh at Dracoâs silliness but he doesnât even smile so after a few seconds your smile fades as well. âI heard you talk yesterday⊠about this other guy⊠thatâs nothing like me.â Thereâs a long silence as it takes you a moment to figure out what your boyfriend is talking about. When you do, you immediately want to assure him, but interrupts you before you get the chance. âI just need to know if I still have a chance with youâŠâ His eyes look lifeless as he confesses his fear of losing you and you.Â
You sit up straight and cup his cheeks. âDraco Malfoy, I love YOU. There is no other guy! You hear me?â Even though youâre holding his face in your hands he shakes no. âYou said-â You sigh. âDraco, before I came to Hogwarts I had a crush on another guy who was nothing like you, but as soon as I met your dumb ass I thought that has to be the love of my life⊠weird but true.â Draco stares deep into your eyes in an attempt to check if youâre telling the truth. âSo youâre not dumping for some tanned six pack bodybuilder type?â You laugh out loud and Enzo and Mattheo raise their eyebrows as they approach you. âDraco is an idiot.â You say smiling. âI could have told you that before you started dating.â Mattheo jokes sitting down opposite of Draco. âLooking for a new boyfriend?â Enzo quips, wiggling his eyebrows at you. âIâm single and ready to mingle.â Draco throws a pancake at Enzo who dodges it elegantly. âDonât even think about it Enzo! Iâm an idiot but not that big an idiot to let her go.â You smile at your boyfriend and he kisses you gently.Â
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smut prompt #8 for logan đđ
forty five minutes in the closet
a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.
summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.
OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)
word count: 2.6k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.
The closet felt smaller than intendedâeven as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.
Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.
He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.
Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.
"Do youâumâknow what usually happens here?"
A smile curved on his lipsâeyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."
"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Ohâ"
"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.
"Yes?" you breathedâeyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.
"Are you nervous?"
Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chestâquickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.
His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.
"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."
A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth openedâwords still fighting to be formedâbut he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.
"You mind if I kiss you bub?"
A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closetâsettling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.
Glancing upâeyes wide and darkened with lustâyou bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."
He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."
"Loganâ"
Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."
It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.
You craved it.
He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.
"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.
Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.
The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?
How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.
Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.
He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.
Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neckâleading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.
"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."
A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomachâthe breath torn from your lungs. "Insideâ"
He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."
His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.
Oh how you longed for him to follow through.
"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.
The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.
You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.
"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."
Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide outâcutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sightâhow your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.
"All for me," he sighed.
"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.
He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongueâready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungsâlegs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.
"Oh fuckâ" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.
The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.
He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.
His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.
"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.
The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.
"I promise."
He chuckled, breathless. You joined.
The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.
"Hey Logan."
His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"
"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."
His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skinâsoaking up your warmth. "Me too."
The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.
Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocketâhis lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.
"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lipsâwilling you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.
Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffledâeyes rolled backâand he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.
His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.
"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"
Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.
He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.
"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"
You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cockâhis other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.
"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"
"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.
"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoesâhead falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."
"Mmffâ" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.
Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.
Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.
You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.
To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an optionâyour legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.
He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.
"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.
"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.
"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."
He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckinâ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."
You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"
"Shut upâ"
"He's told youâ"
Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."
You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"
A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughterâhis knuckles rapping on the wood.
"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.
"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.
"HE ROSE!"
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Pity Party.
Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
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Seventeen reactions when reader is squirting with no permission after hours of edging please?
Seventeen reaction when you squirt without permission after hours of edging
Warnings: Smut, edging, overstimulations, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving) body fluids (squirt), pusnishing.
Seungcheol
watches you closely. he wonders if he has edged you too much this time, the concern flickering in his eyes. when he finally lets you rest, your body still trembling, he leaves the room to fetch some gatorade. "drink up," he says softly, pressing the bottle to your lips. you gulp it down, the cool liquid soothing your dehydrated throat. just as you begin to feel a bit more relaxed, you hear the hum of the vibrator starting up again. "babyâ" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off with a stern look. "i didn't give you permission to cum," he says, his voice commanding. hot and cold, just the way he is.
Jeonghan
eyes light up with a wicked gleam when you finally lose control, your body convulsing as you squirt all over the bed. "oh, did i push you too far?" he asks, but the smirk on his face tells you he loves every second of it. he turns the edging into overstimulation, his fingers and mouth working as partners to make sure you soak his bed again. "wet it all over again for me, baby," he murmurs, his voice dripping with arousal.
Joshua
joshua's eyes light up with fascination as he watches you squirt. despite your embarrassed protests, he joins his fingers, moving them just right to make you splash more, coaxing even more liquid from you. "joshua, please," you whimper, but he ignores your plea, his fingers relentless. "just a little more," he says softly, his voice soothing despite the intensity of his actions. he wants to see you fall apart completely, and he's not stopping until you do.
Junhui
his fingers press tighter on your clit, circling it with precision. the sensation is too much, and you can't help but squirt even more as your hips twitch uncontrollably. "good girl," he praises, his voice low and soothing. "give me everything you've got." his shooting sounds like a trap, because you know he's going to make you pay somehow.
Hoshi
soonyoung's hands press one hand on your stomach down as his fingers dive deeper inside you. you gasp, feeling his fingers tremble against your g'spot. "you didn't wait for my permission," he says, his tone almost scolding. "now you have to deal with it," his fingers move faster, punishing you for losing control. the sensation is overwhelming, your body convulsing as he pushes you further than you thought possible.
Wonwoo
wonwoo's reaction is immediate. he slams his cock inside you without warning, making you squirt in little spurts as you moan, your sensitivity heightened by the edging. he growls, his movements rough. he loves seeing you like this, on the edge or sensitive, and completely at his mercy. he doesnât give you a moment to breathe, each thrust pushing you closer to another climax.
Woozi
you hold his wrist to keep his fingers still inside you, hoping to stop the flow. but it only makes things worse, his fingertips pressed on your sweet spot, making you roll your eyes as your body continues to convulse, everything getting drenched, him, the couch... "i told you it was a bad idea edging me on your studio's couch," you manage to scold him between moans. he slaps your thigh, his tone scolding. "stop scolding me, and i didn't give you permission to cum," he says, his fingers flicking your clit fast. you curse him, your puffy clit throbbing on his fingers every flick.
Minghao
minghao remains unbothered, watching you with a calm expression as you squirt. he starts to overstimulate you, his fingers and the vibrator working in tandem to push you beyond your limits. "these are just your consequences," he says coolly. "you knew you couldn't cum yet." your body convulses non-stop, the vibrator buzzing inside you. he doesnât let up, determined to make you pay for breaking the rule.
Mingyu
mingyuâs dominant image falters for a moment as he watches you squirt. itâs hard for you to do this, but then he regains his posture, turning off the vibrator and coupling his mouth on your wet pussy. a strangled moan leaves your mouth as his tongue works you over, mingyuâs determination to finish what he started evident in every movement. his mouth is relentless, and you feel another orgasm building quickly. "sorry," he murmurs between licks, a sly slime playing on his lips.
Seokmin
seokmin forgets for a moment that he didn't give you permission to cum. "it's okay, baby, just let it all out," he coos, his voice gentle and soothing. but then it clicks, and he slams his cock inside you again, making you pull against the handcuffs in desperation. "wait... you're not done yet," he says, his voice firm.
Seungkwan
he slaps your clit, making you splash all over him again. "who. said. you. could. cum." he emphasizes each word with a slap, his tone firm and totally strict. the sensation is overwhelming, your body responding to his punishment with more squirts. heâs relentless, determined to teach you a lesson.
Vernon
vernon's fingers pinch your clit, making your body convulse hard, gushing on his sheets, as you clench around nothing. "baby, you're so sensitive, oh my god..." he murmurs, his voice filled with awe, like he had just discovered something new. your legs tighten around his torso, trapping him in place as he continues to tease you.
Chan
chan's hand presses down on your shoulder, his cock pushing even deeper inside you. "you're not escaping this," he says, his voice low and commanding. you feel his tip abusing your cervix, and you have no choice but to gush all over his pelvis. "there you go," he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction. his control over you is absolute, and you know youâre completely at his mercy, leaving you craving more even as you try to catch your breath.
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
series masterlist
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important
a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelopeâs apartment for your first girlâs nightâthe hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'âyou had been ecstatic. You wouldnât stop rambling to him about how excited you were.Â
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.Â
Itâs not his fault, of courseâwell, not really, anyway. Itâs just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencerâs friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said âwe did hand stuff two weeks agoâ, but you had a feeling these women wouldnât consider that very impressive.Â
But you canât easily relay that information to Spencerâeven when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you whatâs wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of weâll talk about it later.Â
Later doesnât come on the sidewalk outside. It doesnât come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencerâs apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesnât speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
âDid you eat?â He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.Â
âNot hungry.â
You both know that wasnât the question, but he lets it go.Â
âAlright... well, I was thinkingââ
âWhy havenât we had sex?â
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems youâve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.Â
âI⊠I donât know. We just havenât. Does that bother you?â
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.Â
âDo you just not want to? You arenât attracted to me like that?â
God, you despise how fragile your voice soundsâhow much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldnât, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.Â
âThatâs not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldnât put words in my mouth.â
âWell, then⊠say something else,â you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.Â
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, youâre not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.Â
âYou know thatâs not how I feel.â
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.Â
âNo. No, I donât know that.â
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. Itâs impossible to not do the same when heâs standing so close.Â
âBut Iâve told you. I donât understand how you couldnât know how far from the truth that is.â
You think back to two weeks agoâthe first and only time heâd ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
âSo why wonât you prove it?â
Itâd been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.Â
âIs that what you need from me? More proof?â
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe youâve poked the bear one too many times. But you wonât back down nowânot when you think you might actually get what you want.Â
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you donât miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.Â
âAnd how do you think I should prove it?â
âI told you what I want,â you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.Â
âNot tonight, honey. Choose something else.â
âWellâthatâs not fair,â you stammer, âthe whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.â
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. âI do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.â
âThen I want to do that, too! I justâI donât know what Iâm doing, and you do, and Iâm already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.â You top off the monologue with an imploring gazeâhoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.Â
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips partâto no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.Â
When the words finally do come, theyâre an immense relief of pressure.Â
âYouâre going to promise me that youâll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you donât like somethingââ
âI promise,â you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.Â
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.Â
âIs this a pinky-promise?â
âIt is.â You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.Â
âI left you with Garcia for far too long.â
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. Itâs sweet and smiley until it isnâtâuntil everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hipâthe other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.Â
The pressure of his body against yours builds until youâre forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting heâll make sure you donât run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gestureâbut you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless. Â
Itâs too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencerâs never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters. Â
âOff?â he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while youâre far from confident, youâve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.Â
âPretty,â he murmurs. âYouâreâŠÂ so pretty.â
It seems youâve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone elseâbut Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he canât think of a single one. In an odd way, itâs the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. âDo you know how pretty you are?â
This is one argument you will not be winningâone heâll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.Â
âSpencerâŠâ
âDonât Spencer me. Iâm asking you a question.â
The words donât seem nearly as harsh as they really are when theyâre delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on youâwhen heâs so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.Â
âWe have⊠we have differing views on this matter.â
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.Â
âI thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didnât learn anything from that?â
âMm⊠maybe you just need to remind me.â
âOh, I think I have to,â he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. âHow about this? Can we take this off?â
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous humâwhich is not the enthusiastic yes youâre sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.Â
âWhat if you donât like how I look?â
Spencer doesnât even blink.
âThatâs not going to happen.â
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.Â
âBut what if⊠what if youâve been with other girls who are more, likeâI donât know, justâbetter? Prettier?â
âHoney, youâreââ a sigh, a pause as he searches for the wordsâhis eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, theyâve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. âIâm not thinking about anyone else right now. Iâm not interested in anyone else right now. I already think youâre perfect, and Iâm going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, Iâm not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?â
As far as sentiments go, itâs a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencerâs chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.Â
âBut what if Iâm hideously deformed?â
His eyebrows raise.Â
âYouâre not.â
âBut what if IÂ am?â
âOkay. It seems like you donât feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just wonâtââ
âNo!â you protest. âI am ready. I am. But⊠you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you donât like what you see so I don't have to wonder.â
âYouâre ridiculous,â he says, kissing you, âand the only thing Iâm willing to promise is that Iâll think youâre perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.â
A moment of hesitanceâbut itâs short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.Â
âTake it,â you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.Â
âThank you.â
You wouldnât have thought Spencerâs genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say youâre impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.Â
âWell?â you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. âWhatâs the verdict?â
âYou,â Spencer manages after a momentâyou literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your bodyâ âare ridiculously beautiful.â
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.Â
âSo⊠no breakup?â
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesnât push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.Â
âYouâre gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. Weâre going to talk about this.â
âYeah, but not right now, right?â you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.Â
âNot right now,â he agrees.Â
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. Itâs like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. Youâre happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still canât hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.Â
âSit down.â
Itâs much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.Â
âWithout you?â
âIâm not going anywhere,â he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. âJust sit. Utilize patience.â
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticenceâyouâre just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.Â
âAre you nervous?â Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you donât reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. âItâs okay if youâre feeling anxious, baby. We donât have to do anything tonight.â
You expel a frustrated huff.Â
âI want to. Just because Iâm nervous doesnât mean I donât want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.â
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.Â
âI know you can. But you donât always have to push yourself so hard.â
âIâm fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?â
âOh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?â he smiles.Â
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.Â
âPlease, do something.â Itâs a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until youâre nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.Â
âIâm working on it.â
âIt doesnât look like it.â
âYouâre smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and Iâm kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?â
Oh, you have a pretty strong inklingâbut youâre scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What youâre not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels goodâbetter than youâd have thought.Â
âYou donât know?â he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. âNo guesses?â
âNo guesses,â you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like heâs considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.Â
âI donât think youâre being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.â
You do as youâre told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time youâd been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.Â
âIâm being honest.â Lie. âI donât know what youâre going to do.â
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.Â
âI don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.â
âSpencer,â you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.Â
âYou donât like being teased, huh?â
âPlease, Spence,â you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at onceâand you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.Â
âI canât say no when you ask me like that.â
You push your fingers into his soft hair.Â
âI know.â
It was a lucky guess.Â
Heâs still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.Â
âIâm going to use my mouth this time,â he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. âIs that okay?â
âWhat if IâŠâ
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which youâre not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe youâre just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.Â
âYou need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. Iâd love to do this for you. But itâs your call.â
âLove is a pretty strong word.â
âSometimes I think not strong enough.â
The way heâs looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe heâs not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. Heâs so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?Â
âOkay,â you breathe. âYou canâyeah.â
As usual, youâre impressively awkward, but he doesnât seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what itâs like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.Â
âDo you remember what you promised me?â he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.Â
âMhm.â
âYouâre not gonna break that promise, are you?â
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.Â
âNo.â
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, âgood girl.â
Your stomach flips at the endearmentâyou squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencerâs hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.Â
âYouâve never called me that before,â you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.Â
âItâs not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell youâve always been good.â
âReally? How?â
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places heâd kissed feel cold without him.Â
âI just can. Youâre thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.â
âIt is on you,â you huff.Â
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course heâd love playing with you. That knowledge is why youâre only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.Â
âIs it? Youâre only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?â
A stammering nod.Â
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until itâs between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches. Â
âTell me how it feels when I touch you here.â
âReally good,â you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.Â
âReally good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?â
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until youâre pushing against his hand in search of more friction.Â
âYes please.â
âThen no more questions. I need you to trust me.â
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sighâyouâd do anything, say anything for him.Â
âOkay.â
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But youâre trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.Â
Things go much quicker once youâre not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until heâs below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadnât been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencerâs face, obscuring him from your vision, but you donât think to push it awayâyour body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadnât really thought it necessary for your bra to come offâyou had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.Â
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosisâyouâre unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon heâs replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it wonât soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apologyâbut you sincerely doubt heâs actually sorry.Â
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomachâwhen he reaches your hips, he doesnât pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like itâs precious.Â
This time you donât need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.Â
âGod, youâre fucking beautiful,â he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure thatâs been building. âShh, baby. I know. Iâm gonna take care of it. Youâre being so good for me.â
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mushâyouâre utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and youâre not upset about it in the slightest.Â
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clitâeverywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least youâre too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But youâre trusting him.Â
Thankfully, he delivers.Â
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you werenât this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in placeâyou canât even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. Itâs a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, âf-fuâoh,â so whiny and soft it doesnât even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.Â
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When youâre by yourself, itâs typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and youâd pretty much given up. But thisâthis is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently donât, you wouldnât want to keep quiet. You want him to know what heâs doing to you.Â
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. Youâre new at this, after allâevery broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.Â
âSpencer,â you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. âOh, myâfuck!â
The hand thatâs still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one thatâs spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.Â
âWait, wait, Spenceââ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. âPlease, just⊠slow down, or Iâm gonna⊠or itâs gonna be over.â
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.Â
âItâs over when you say itâs over. You donât have a refractory period. We donât have to stop at one.â
âOhâyou donâtâyou donât have to do that,â you stammer.Â
âI know I donât have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.â
Well, shit.Â
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you donât plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.Â
âI donât know if I can do more than one,â you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.Â
âHow about we start with one and see how it feels?â
Your voice is breathy when you respond, âokay,â already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.Â
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point youâd been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, youâd beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.Â
Of course he doesâpushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and youâre and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than youâve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongueâhe takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and youâre done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesnât stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one couldâalthough, itâs only your second time, so you donât exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what heâs doing feels so good you want him even deeperâbut you know he wonât give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.Â
Spencerâs lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time youâre face to face again youâre still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost canât make sense of it.Â
Maybe itâs possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.Â
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, âwhat? Youâre not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?â
âNo!â you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. âNot when you⊠no.â
âLet me kiss you,â he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. âLet me kiss you. Please.â
You whine.
âI donât wanna⊠taste⊠myself.â
Spencer doesnât miss a beat.Â
âHm. Weâll need to work on that. Because one day, Iâll make you come just like that again, and then Iâm going to fuck you, and youâre really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.â
Something flickers in your core.Â
Suddenly youâre not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems heâs going to have his fun, first.Â
âOpen.â Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to doâyouâre all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, youâre obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. âOh, baby,â he croons. âWhat are we gonna do with you?â
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.Â
âCan you make me come again right now?â you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the ideaâand you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
âI would love to.â
-
part three
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Hi, if you have time and any interest, would you write bombshell!reader comforting Spencer after the Maeve arc? Like maybe sheâs the only one he lets in, and she just holds him and lets him cry and puts him first.
Will totally understand if youâd rather not/donât reply!
ty for requesting!! <3 âYou come home from months away to find Spencer in love and grieving, so you do what you can. fem, 2k
You didnât expect Spencer to fall in love while you were gone, but you canât begrudge him. Not for having feelings for someone who isnât you, and certainly not for losing her.Â
You love him, and youâre his friend first.Â
Your shoes make sharp but steady sounds on the stairs up to his apartment. His building is old but not rundown, lacquered wooden bannister smooth under your hand, his front door immaculate, though the hallway is busy with baskets. Thereâs ribbon and cellophane everywhere. Itâs a sorry sight.Â
You havenât brought Spencer anything besides dinner. Unlike yourself, you take in the offerings of his friends and worry you arenât as caring as you think you are.Â
Not that he seems in the mood to accept it.Â
You look down at your mary janeâs and wonder if youâre doing any of this stuff right. Spencer doesnât even know youâre back in the country, let alone the state. Perhaps he has no interest in seeing you after this long apart, and after such a tragedy. Who wants to see their too flirty friend when theyâve just lost a real love?Â
You hike the tote up your shoulder. In a chequered skirt and a simple white t-shirt, youâre underdressed. The pasta youâd made and hurriedly wrapped up burns your hip where the bag rests against you, and you have to make a choice now. Let it burn you, standing and staring morosely at Spencerâs door, or face rejection.Â
You only need to hear his voice. He can leave your pasta out here on the floor if he likes. Whatâs important is that heâs still alive in there.Â
You knock on the door.Â
Nothing. Complete silence.Â
Nudging aside a basket of dried fruits, you try again. A simple rat-tat-tat.Â
âHey, Spencer?â you ask too quietly.Â
He wonât hear you through the door. Your voice might as well be a whisper if heâs in his bedroom with the door closed.Â
âSpencer, are you okay, my love?â you ask, louder.
You wince at yourself. My love couldnât be more raw.Â
âSweetheart, Iâm just here to see if youâre okay,â you say, knocking again, before leaving your hand to rest on the door. You lean forward, forehead kissing dark wood.Â
You canât hear anything on the other side.Â
âSpencer,â you say with a reluctant swallow, âif youâre home, can you tell me? You donât have to let me in. Just come to the door.âÂ
Penelope said he hasnât texted her back for days. Derek said heâd answered the phone once or twice, but beyond that heâs silent. You had a nightmare on the plane home that youâd come back to find him as heâs found his poor girl, or that heâd turn to old vices, or that heâd finally give up. Heâs been strong through every horrible thing thrown his way, and now heâs all alone againâ
The door opens slowly. You stand up straighter, your surprise a whack to the chest as your heartbeat picks up.Â
Spencer stands at the door. He looks more tired than youâve ever seen him, his dark circles bruised like wine stains under his eyes, even his eyelids red and sore looking. His lips are almost colourless, they're so chapped, and his pyjama pants have deep, deep wrinkles at the knees.Â
âHi,â you say. âSpencer, how are you?âÂ
His voice rings with disuse. âYouâre here.âÂ
âCame straight home when they told me,â you say softly, honestly. âI knew I had to see you. To make sure youâre okay.âÂ
âIâm not okay.âÂ
âI know.â You donât know if itâs okay to ask to come in, if heâll close the door at the suggestion, so you donât. âSweetheart, Iâm so sorry.â You put weight in the wrong places, too much on Iâm, not enough on so. âI canât imagine it. I would never wish this for you, never.âÂ
âYou were in Brazil.âÂ
âI was.âÂ
He must be tired of people asking if heâs okay, yet it wants to be asked. You bite it down, and instead offer what may be the key to getting in, or a quick dismissal.Â
âI made dinner for you, angel,â you say. You choose the pet name more carefully. He used to call you angel to make you feel better. âItâs just pasta, I tried not to make it too heavy in case you're nauseous.âÂ
âI feel so sick,â he says.Â
Spencerâs curse is that he probably knows why he feels sick, and he probably knows a hundred different remedies or medications or prayers to get rid of it, but nothing can get rid of this feeling. You can be the smartest man alive and youâll never outfox grief.Â
âWill you come in?â he asks.
You breathe a short, unbidden sigh of relief. He steps aside to let you in, and you gaze around at his shock of mess, books and blankets and furniture all in the wrong places, but itâs to be expected, and it doesnât bother you beyond that empathetic hum of hurt tucked under your ribs. You approach his couch covered in books and put your tote bag atop them, turning to tell Spencer youâll just quickly move these aside, and stopping dead when you see him. The door closed, his face pale, Spencer looks like everything is crumbling down around him. He looks horrified to have to watch, and he looks as sick as heâd confessed.Â
âIâm sorry I wasnât here,â you say, meaning it at its surface value. Youâre sorry you were in a different country while he faced this alone. Beyond everything youâve shared, youâre supposed to be his friend, and in a way youâve let him down. âPlease forgive me if you can, Spencer.âÂ
He nods tightly.Â
âLet me move some of this stuff and we can sit down together, is that okay? Or do you need to go back to bed?âÂ
âItâs okay.âÂ
You do it without the grace his precious books deserve, lugging armfuls of them onto the floor, no time for tidying. You make spacious room for him and you, and your gesture gently for him to come and sit, fingers moving through the air slowly with the suggestion; he doesnât have to listen if he doesnât want to.Â
What is it about you that Spencer would let you in before anyone else? That heâd sit and watch you until you sat down, that his shoulders relax ever so slightly when you settle, your thighs aligned?Â
Maybe he needs someone who wasnât there to watch it happen, and maybe youâre like family. You and Spencer may not be in love, but you love one another. Seeing him like this has you wishing you could fix it for him so keenly itâs like your hands are bruised. Pins and needles eat your fingers as you hold a hand to his elbow.Â
âWhat can I do?â you ask, murmuring so as not to disturb the quiet room.Â
âNothing, Iâm sorry. I donât have anything for you to do, I justâŠâ He squeezes his eyes closed. âI just wanted to see you. Youâre the only person whoâ whoââ
His voice lifts to a strangled high pitch as he covers his eyes with one hand.Â
âCan I give you a hug?â you ask.Â
He nods into his hand but doesnât move. You have no qualms with making yourself big, wrapping him up, and guiding his hand away from his scrunched up face to hold you back.Â
Youâre pretty pristine with hugs, as they go. Youâre a soft touch. So Spencer holds you tightly and you cradle the back of his head, aware that youâre not who he really wants to be hugging, but okay with it nonetheless. âIâm so sorry,â you say, mouth to the top of his head, your hand stroking with light touches against the nape of his neck. âSpencer, itâs not fair.âÂ
He starts shaking in your arms.Â
âThe only time I got to talk to her face to face was with a gun to her head,â he says, his eye hot where itâs squished to the bottom of your cheek.Â
âHoney, you had something special,â you say, sort of guessing, because you had no idea Spencer was even talking to someone. Everything you know about the situation you learned from Hotch, but you can read from his level of distress how much she meant to him. âYou donât need to have been face to face to have shared something like that. Love is about connection, and Iâm so sorry you donât get to see her, but youâ Iâm sorry. You didnât get all the time you deserved.âÂ
Youâd been trying to say that it doesnât matter if he saw her or not, that their relationship was just as real no matter what, but you know heâs not just mourning her, but the possibility of a life with her he wonât get now.Â
âI tried everything I had to save her,â he says.Â
âI know you did. Sometimes we canât do anything. Itâs not your fault.âÂ
He makes a low sound. Heâs a quiet crier, sniffling and shaking against your neck.Â
You love him. Finding out he had a girlfriend was like being stabbed in the chest, an instant sickness, but finding out that she died? To see him in this much pain cuts deeper than a split second of thinking heâd moved on.Â
âYou did everything you could. You did the best that you could. Spencer, you couldâve done everything right and she still wouldnât have made it, because the world is cruel. This isnât your fault.âÂ
âItâs always gonna be my fault,â he says.Â
âNo, it wonât be.âÂ
âIt will! Iâm like a curse, we all are.âÂ
You donât know what to say. You consider offering placatives, but theyâd be empty, and Spencer would know. Instead, you scratch a hand through his curls and try your best to be gentle.Â
âWell, Iâm here for you. I know you know you have a whole team of people who want to be there for you, but I mean it, Spence. You can tell me everything. Iâm here for you and Iâm not leaving again.âÂ
âYou donât have to go back?âÂ
âIâm staying here.â For as long as you need me goes unsaid.Â
Spencer should rely on the kindness of all of his friends, and not just you. He needs love. Grief is going to eat him alive, just like it did with Emily; heâll need everything from everyone, and, no offence to your friends and coworkers, youâre the most committed to giving it to him.Â
âI never shouldâve left,â you say quietly, âbut things are different now. Youâre my best friend, Dr. Reid.â Your tone turns more playful. âI donât cook for just anybody, you know?âÂ
Maybe itâs a bit cringeworthy, but you really want him to stop crying.Â
He laughs weakly and wetly into your collar. âI donât think I can eat it. I just throw everything back up.âÂ
Aw, honey, you think. âHow about a thin soup? I can make you something without any heavy creams. I make the best chicken soup around.âÂ
âDo you?â he asks.Â
You want to kiss his cheek as you wouldâve before you left, but things really are different now. You settle for patting his shoulder. âI do. Weâll have chicken soup, and some fresh bread, andâ and you wonât have to pretend you arenât miserable. Promise. You can be as sad as you want, honey, I just wanna sit with you and make sure it doesnât get too much.âÂ
âThank you,â he mumbles.Â
âItâs okay.â You donât want a thank you. âIâm glad to be home. Do you think you can get dressed? Letâs go get some stuff for dinner.âÂ
Spencer, to your relief, gets up to get changed without complaint. He checks youâre still on the couch a few times from the doorway of his room. You have no plans on straying far.Â
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Loving your writing and saw that youâre accepting asks!
I have this thought about monster boyfriend of some sort who is desperate to have sex but youâre hesitant/nervous because heâs so big/will knot you. He reassures you and says that heâll put in just the tip to ease you into it and then youâre both going crazy for it and he goes feral and thrusts the whole thing in/pops his knot in you
I'm so happy to hear this! Especially since English is not my first language (if that isn't painfully obvious lol). Thank you for this incredibly excellent ask!
Hidden in the Basement
[ m!monster x fem!reader ]
You could hear him in the basement. It was that time of the year - he goes into rut and he simply... needs his alone time. He always kisses you, lingering just a tad bit longer than usual, and retreats downstairs.
You stand outside the door. He is trying to stay as quiet as he can, muffling his groans and heavy breathing, but he's too loud. Too pent up.
You want to help him. He is almost frenzied when in rut and sometimes hurts himself or the others. He recognizes you, of course, but there is something in his behavior that scares you. Although - you bite your lip - not in a necessarily bad way.
You notice the basement is too quiet. Is he okay? You try the door handle - surprisingly, he didn't lock himself in. Perhaps he forgot? You go downstairs, as quietly as possible. It is almost too dark to see, but you can't turn on the light - you shouldn't be here after all.
He is kneeling on the floor, his huge pulsating cock in one hand as he is trying to get off. It is out of the sheath, a big bulbous knot at the base, and leaking glans on the top. His other hand is holding your panties. He is sniffing and biting them while jacking off. The fabric is completely damp.
Your face burns from embarrassment. Somehow you feel you shouldn't have seen this. Maybe you could sneak outside without him noticing? But... do you want to? You've never seen him like this, barely human, his limbs different and longer and stronger, his neck wider, his tail more flexible. It was him, but not completely. Also his cock... it changed in a rather interesting way.
He finally senses you and his eyes snap open, his pupils dangerously dilating.
"I'm sorry!" You panic and try running upstairs. You barely climb two steps before he grabs you from behind and lifts you. You yelp in surprise. He carries you downstairs and, without letting you go, kisses you. Everything about him is different, even his embraces. They are so intense, more consuming, needy. More feral. His hands quickly remove all your clothes and his fingers find your breasts.
"Wait," you gasp. "You are so big. I can't..."
He nibbles your neck, his large hands cupping your ass cheeks. "I need you. I will be careful, I promise. Let me have you a little bit or I'll go mad." His voice mutated into more dominant, animalistic one. You whimper as his finger finds your pussy and pushes against your entrance. "Not wet enough."
In one easy move, he lifts you up in front of his face and places your knees over his shoulders. Once your pussy is perfectly leveled with his large mouth, he proceeds to eat you out like a starving animal.
"Aaaah... aaah..." You wiggle and pant, sensations too overwhelming. But he firmly holds you in place. His tongue reaches places no toy or his human form ever reached. It circles around your clit and pumps into your entrance, swelling and pulsating. Your boyfriend pleasures you until you're soaking wet and trembling, and then lowers you just above his massive cock. "Please!" you scream, intimidated by the knot. "I can't do it..."
"I will put just the tip in," he reassures you. "I would never hurt you."
He sounds like your old wonderful boyfriend and you slightly relax in his arms. The way he kisses you by biting your lips, licking your face and sliding his long tongue deep into your throat is truly something special. Distracting you with his mouth, he slowly forces his glans into your pussy. It glides easily, and you both moan.
"You are so..." he whispers under his breath. "So tight. So amazing."
He barely enters and immediately lifts you up again. He is breathing heavily and sweating, his muscles trembling. You know it's not because he can't hold you like this - he is barely controlling himself, trying not to impale you on his massive cock.
"More..." You whine, his monster phallus rubbing against your wet walls. "Give me more."
He grunts happily and let's you slide down. He fills you completely, holding you safely with his arms. "Fuck... Can I go faster?"
"Yes please." Your blood is already boiling, nerves vibrating from incoming orgasm.
He starts bouncing you up and down, only pushing the half of his length inside. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. He is stretching you bit by bit, and immediately pulling out. His grunts and panting, and your moaning surround your sweating bodies. "Fuck... Fuck..." you both pant into each other's ear.
"Harder," you moan and his hips start jerking upwards when his arms lower you down. The impact is so much stronger, more intense, more ecstatic. After just a few thrusts, you climax and scream into your hands. You are so loud, it's embarrassing.
"No, let me hear you. Scream more for me. "
He speeds up, your pussy contracting around his cock and you can only moan and whimper from your overwhelming prolonged orgasm. He presses you against his chest, growling like a beast, and jerks his hips upwards. There is some sudden pain, but pleasure too, and you cry out.
His low moans become louder as he pounds you. Your entire body feels his body, all around you and inside you. Finally, with a hard thrust, he grunts into your hair and forces you even harder against his body. Hot liquid enters deeply into your womb. It feels amazing.
With panting and drooling all over you, your boyfriend lets your torsos separate. But nothing else.
"I knotted in you. I can't pull out." He sounds both happy and worried. You look down and see a big bulge from your swollen pussy all the way to your navel. And finally you realize his whole monster cock entered you including the knot. "I'm sorry," he says.
It doesn't hurt too much. It's a bit sore, sure. With little practice, you are sure you could do this every day. The thought makes your pussy throb. He feels that and looks at you curiously.
With a sly smile, you rub the tip of his cock through your skin and it twitches. "Sorry? I'm upset we haven't tried this sooner. No need to hide in the basement from me ever again." Realizing what you said, he happily purrs and embraces you.
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