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verstappen-cult · 7 months

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CHASING HEARTS | MV1 & CL16

summary: you’ve been friends with max and charles for quite a while now, but as much as you’ve tried you just can’t keep denying your true feelings anymore. so, what happens when they came knocking on your door demanding an explanation?

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warnings: hurt/comfort, poly relationship.

“she said she was busy studying,” charles says as he gets out of max’s car parked right in front of your building. “i don’t think we should be here.”

max gives him an exasperated look. “and you really believe that?” when charles shrugs, max can’t help but roll his eyes. “she’s been ignoring us and giving poor excuses to not hang out with us for weeks, don’t you think it’s a little strange?”

charles, in fact, finds it strange. at first he thought nothing of it, but then max came to him ranting about how he saw you hanging out with oscar and lando, laughing about something the younger boy had said, but when he got closer, that beautiful and melodic laugh died in your throat, and you didn't look at him once.

charles just looked at max and waited patiently until the boy stopped his ranting. what came next was a conversation that was bound to happen. but when they tried to approach you they were met with a cold text saying you were too busy, while you tried very hard not to cross paths with them around university.

they just can't take it anymore. ambushing you at your own house it's probably a bad idea, but hey, they need answers.

the elevator ride to your apartment can't be fast enough, max thinks that if he has to spend another minute without knowing what happens he will most definitely go crazy.

the blonde-haired boy slams his fist against your door, anxiety and anger building inside of him. charles has to put his hand on his shoulder to try and ground him.

you open the door wrapped in a very cosy blanket, surprised to find them there. "hi?" you say, at a loss for words. you've missed them, you'd be lying if you say that having them in front of you, even if max looks angry and charles a little sad, it's not what you've been dreaming about.

"hi, sweetheart." charles gives you his signature smile, with dimples on display and everything. "can we come inside?" he asks, but max is already pushing the door open and making his way into your home.

"i can't to his anymore," it's the first thing max says, hands on hips and a frustrated expression on his face. "what is happening? i need an answer now. we need answers. you've kept us in the dark long enough."

charles knows max is hurting and trying very hard not to take it out on you, even if you're the who caused this, so, he takes a step forward.

"we've missed you, right?" the monégasque raises his eyebrows, throwing daggers at him. max sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "we just need to know why are you ignoring us. and if after that you don't want to see us again, then... we will not force you."

that's exactly what you don't want to do and why you distanced yourself in the first place. you promise yourself you were not going to tell them the reason.

you close the door while wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, as if that is going to magically make you disappear.

"i—um, it's not..." you avoid making eye contact, fearing that if you do your walls will crumb and you'll let your true feelings rise to the surface. you're in great danger already.

max makes a noncommittal grunt and mutters something under his breath.

you sigh, putting on a brave face. "i just been busy. finals are around the corner and i've been distracted," you raise your eyes to, finally, look at them and charles heart skips a beat, even if he catches your gaze for just a second.

"bullshit," max hisses through his teeth, seeing right through you. why did you thought you'd succeed in lying to them? "did we do something to upset you?"

"no! no, you didn't to anything wrong." you rub your hands over your face, exasperated.

"then why are you doing this?" charles really doesn't understand because you aren't making any sense. "we thought everything was fine.”

max inhales softly, counting to ten in his head. "i even asked lando if he knew something and he said it was not his secret to tell, so, we know something is happening."

"i can't be your friend anymore!" you feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"what?" both say at the same time, but you don't have the heart to look at their faces.

max runs his hands through his hair, it's a little too long again and you'd volunteer to cut it if it weren't for what's happening right now.

charles paces around the living room, alternating between looking at you and then at his feet.

"it's not that big of a deal," you shrug, walking past them into the kitchen to make some tea just to have something to do. "it's not like i'm an important part of your life."

they follow you into the kitchen because of course they can't leave it at that.

"what are you talking about?" charles sounds broken, he can't believe you'd think so little of you. and what you actually mean to him and max. "if you really think we can forget about you that easily, then you don't know me. or max." he says, tugging at max's wrist.

"you're very, very important to us. we care about you, we've been so worried—"

"i just can't, okay!?" you turn around, forgetting all about the tea. "i can't get in the way. i won't."

"in the way of what?" max sounds so confused, and when you look at charles, his expression is the same one as the boy standing next to him.

"i know you're together." you whisper, glancing fearfully between them.

"well, obviously." charles chuckles, amusement tilting his voice, but his expression still shows how confused he is. "i mean, we're not exactly subtle about it. and we spend a lot of time together, so, you would've noticed, eventually."

"that's exactly the problem!" you throw your hands in the hair, finally giving up. you can't do it anymore. "i like you." your eyes widen in fear once you hear yourself saying the words you swore to yourself you would not to say out loud.

max looks at charles, but charles keeps looking at you like you've grown a third head or something. and when neither of them says anything, you know you've fucked everything up.

"i like you, too." charles finally says, letting go of max wrist to get closer to you, but he doesn't get too far because you are moving out of the way, away from him as much as you can.

"you don't understand," you look at them with cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i like you. both of you. and not like friends should like other friends, okay? so i can't be friends with you."

max laughs, like actually laughs, throwing his head backwards and all. it makes you feel stupid and tiny in that big, stupid kitchen.

you should not have said it. you should have made something up, you should have acted like a grown ass adult and shove those feelings deep inside of you, forgetting all about wanting to be held by them, and kissed, and comforted.

stupid girl with stupid feelings—

"hey," max says, in a voice too small to be his own. "can i come a little closer?" your shoulders tighten, you really want to say no but you are nodding before your mind can catch up with it.

max walks slowly, being followed closely by charles. they don't want to scare you and have you walking away from them again.

"sometimes," max says carefully as you bite your lip trying to regulate your breathing. "these things happen. we're not actually seeking them but, as most things in life, things happen... i know how that feels, schatje." charles lifts his right hand so, so slowly, until is resting on your hip, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly.

"i'm so sorry, max —"

"don't apologize. you don't need to apologize for having feelings." he says and you bite your lower lip harder, tasting blood. you don't deserve his gentleness, you don't deserve charles’ caring touch, you don't deserve anything. "you didn't do anything wrong, okay?”

you open your mouth to say something, but close it again quickly when charles shakes his head.

"you still don't get it, do you?" the brown-haired boy asks, and coos at you when you tilt your head to the side. "max, she doesn't get it."

they share a knowing look, smiling playfully when his eyes are back on you again. you feel lightheaded, aware that something is happening right in front of your eyes but not understanding a single thing.

"we planned on having this conversation a little bit different," charles beings to say as max's hand finds comfort on your lower back. "max would cook something for us and we would eat, then watch and movie and, at the end of the night, we would have this conversation."

max hums, nodding along. "but you ghosted us and fucked all of our plans." the monégasque slaps his chest playfully with his free hand while you feel like you're gonna be sick.

"wha—what are you talking about?" your heart is about to be spilled out onto the floor.

"we like you, too." charles confirms, his voice rumbling through your ears.

"we didn't noticed what was happening at first," max has a small, shy smile on his face as he remembers the exact moment he had the conversation with charles, where both of them ended up crying while trying to understand what it all meant to them. "it was thanks to you ignoring us that we realized our true feelings."

"at least something good happened because of it." charles' voice is small like a child's and, for the first time in forever, you cup his cheek, his skin feeling soft and so warm. you do the same with max, getting goosebumps all over your body.

"you're not playing with me?" you need to be sure before getting your hopes up.

max's grips tightens on you. "we aren't that cruel, baby."

you want to cry. and scream, and laugh, and cry some more.

you look at each other for what feel like ages, you've missed each other so much that now that you are finally reunited, you don't want to be apart anymore.

then, the three of you start giggling like children.

"can i kiss you?" charles shyly ask, earning a snort from max beside him.

your tiny nod it's all he needs to lean in and brush his lips against yours. it's a timid kiss, tasting each other slowly. it's delicate and gentle, you feel like floating up in the air which leaves you feeling dizzy when he eventually pulls away.

max doesn't asks, he just leans and waits for you to make the first move. which you definitely do. there are butterflies in you belly and you feel so nervous that you bump your nose with his, making them both laugh. max grins into the kiss and lets you take all the control, following your lead.

their kisses leave you feeling warm all over and with a buzzing in your ears that even after an hour of making out still won’t go away.

it's stupid and it's not gonna be easy. there are so many preconceptions about poly relationships that you know people will talk. but for now you don't care about anything but the two boys glued to your sides as you cuddle together on the couch.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#lestappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #poly!f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 grid x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #lestappen fic #lestappen imagine #lestappen x you #poly!relationship

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megamindsecretlair · 10 days

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Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽

A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.

Wild

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?

Word Count: 5,859k

AO3 Link

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.

You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.

So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right?

You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.

You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!

The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees.

Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military.

You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.

You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.

You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were.

Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face.

You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.

You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.

You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.

“You’re loud as hell,” he said.

“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!”

Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.

You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.

He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look.

But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.

“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water.

You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass.

He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man.

“Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.

“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you.

Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?”

You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.

“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.

Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile.

You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry.

He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him.

A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.

You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.

You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up.

The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.

“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.

“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes.

Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids.

Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.

“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone.

You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.

“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.

You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.

Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.

You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.

“I didn’t either,” you said.

Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.”

You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.

A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.

Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.

A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.

That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said.

His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.

He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.

When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for?

You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.

Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off.

“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.

“I want to know,” he said.

You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.

“The kid’s show?” He asked.

You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.

You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.

“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.

“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.

“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.

You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing.

You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.

Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.

It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.

You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.

Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.

Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week.

Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready.

You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.

“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.

Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.

“Next time, if you’re up for it.”

“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily.

Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue.

You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.

It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point.

His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?

You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest.

It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.

The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?”

“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said, quietly.

You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.

“You’re too loud,” he said.

You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.

“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag.

You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.

Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.

Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.

Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.

He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.

You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.

Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look.

The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.

“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“So were you!” You fired back.

“Nah, I was good,” he said.

“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.

“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said.

“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!

“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.

You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.

“Give up?” He asked.

“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge.

You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?”

“Terry?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin.

“Kiss me,” you said.

Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.

He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.

Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.

“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.

In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.

His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.

“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.

“Fuck no,” you said and giggled.

Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you.

You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.

You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–

Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.

You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.

Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut.

“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers.

“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.

It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.

“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.

You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.

“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”

Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said.

“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said.

He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty.

“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work.

“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said.

“Fuck y–”

Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.

Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.

Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now?

“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked.

To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.

“Slam that shit back,” he said.

You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.

“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.

Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.

He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you.

Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.

“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.

You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.

“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.

“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd.

“That’s my spot!” You squealed.

“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over.

Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd.

“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.

There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-”

Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”

Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.

Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.

Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now.

Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside.

“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.

Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.

“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”

“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear.

He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.

The end.

Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover

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hoshinasblade · 1 month

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hoshina soshiro is very she-fell-first-but-he-fell-harder trope coded.

i think we can reach a consensus here that hoshina is not difficult to like and in this case, to romantically have feelings for - one way or the other i think the officers of the third division harbor some form of admiration for the guy. and you are no exception.

but hoshina did not get recruited as a defense officer to fall in love. he doesn't mind that people develop a crush on him, but when he started noticing you being a bit weird and awkward around him, he gets slightly annoyed. he's the vice-captain and he needs all of his subordinates to be thinking straight around him. he cannot deny you are one of, if not the best, in your batch - you can even get promoted to platoon leader if you want to. hoshina doesn't want your potential to be dampened by your infatuation, so he tells you to stop feeling whatever feeling you have towards him. "is that an order from my vice-captain?" you asked. he gave a one-word reply to you in a firm tone, "yes, it is".

he drove himself crazy the next days and weeks because you did not only follow his instruction, you also went above and beyond by completely avoiding him like he carries the plague. this says a lot considering it's hard to hide from a man who leads the training sessions you are supposed to attend. time passed, and he learned to miss your presence - he started to reminisce about how different it is when you were a constant inclusion in his everyday life, and how dull things are for him now that you have effectively ghosted him.

but you weren't really gone - you are a third division defense officer so you are still beholden to your sworn duties and obligations to protect your country from kaiju threats. but in an attempt to neutralise a kaiju one time, you have hurt yourself - injured to the point that even vice-captain hoshina soshiro himself got scared he was going to lose you.

"don't get attached to any of your teammates," is something he would tell the new recruits during their initiation as members of the division. hoshina soshiro wished he could have listened to himself.

when you regained your consciousness at the hospital, hoshina was the first person you laid your eyes on. he's fallen asleep while sitting uncomfortably in a chair beside your bed, his hand holding yours, your fingers intertwined with his.

#i hate that my brain is overflowing with stuff like this and then i try to write and it's just crickets lol #filed under: things to elaborate on very soon #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #hoshina soshiro fic

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sweetestspence · 1 year

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" and then there were two "

summary: the bau recruits a new agent whose credentials arguably match their very own boy wonder’s pairing: s1!spencer reid x f!reader genre: fluff wc : 2.5k

part of the holy ground series.

“Did you hear? About the new agent?” Elle enters the bullpen with Derek, slinging an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer. She keeps her voice just loud enough for him to hear, but it catches the attention of the agents that walk past them. Whispers of a new BAU team member had been lingering around the office for the past few days, especially one of this particular agent’s caliber.

“You heard too- What do you have over there Reid?” Derek’s train of thought had been cut of thought had been cut off the second the pair reached Spencer’s desk, the young man’s attention transfixed on a smooth stone between his fingers.

Spencer looks up, but keeps the pebble in his palm. “I picked it up from the beach a couple of days ago, I thought it looked nice so-”

“That pebble has been within a few feet of a dead body and you still picked it up?” Elle teases, cutting him off and taking the stone for him palm, bringing it up to her eye-level to ‘examine’. “It’s a strange shape though, I’ll give you that.”

Elle returns the rock back to Spencer which he places atop his desk. “You two were talking about the new agent… What- what do you think they’re like?”

Derek shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t hear anything from Hotch or JJ, other than she’s coming in today.”

“Thank god another woman around, I was worried that we’d always be outnumbered by you four.” Elle breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief before continuing, “All I heard was the agent graduated early and worked in law for a bit.”

“You two definitely heard a lot more than I did.” Spencer’s brows furrow, his mind filled with questions of the new addition to their team. He didn’t even know they were looking for recruits, his eyes scan around the bullpen, drifting from Elle and Derek as he searched for an unfamiliar face.

And he finds one. Standing by the doorway. You looked nervous. You’re biting the inside of cheek, your eyes scanning around the bullpen in search of a familiar figure. Possibly Hotch. You keep to yourself, as if you’re afraid of taking too much space. But it feels like a front, you’re just in an unfamiliar environment. It isn’t until Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face that he drops his train of thought. If you were the newest addition to the team, he probably shouldn’t be profiling you.

“Did pretty boy find himself a pretty girl?” Derek laughs, following Spencer’s gaze.

“She just looks new that’s all.” Spencer quickly averts his eyes to the rock on his desk, but it’s too late. Elle had caught on and managed to see you waiting by the door as well.

She crosses her arms and quickly looks at you before looking back at Spencer. “Looks like you found our new agent.”

You take a couple of deep breaths before fully committing to entering the bullpen. Three people had just looked at you before returning to their conversation. You know you should probably find your unit chief first, and he’d be the one to make introductions for you. But it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself… right? You couldn’t ponder on the question for too long as your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, moving in the direction of Spencer’s desk where he, Derek, and Elle are.

“Hi!” You smiled, reaching a hand out for them to shake. “I’m Y/n, I’m supposed to be starting in the BAU today.”

Spencer raises a brow. You didn’t introduce yourself as an agent, only your first name. He shares a look with Elle who only shakes her head at him, as if telling him not to read into it too much.

Derek shakes your hand. “Derek Morgan.”

“Elle Greenaway. Really nice to meet you, Y/n. I apologize we were not being subtle at all.” Elle laughs.

“Don’t worry-” You wave off her apology with a small smile, but before you could continue speaking, Derek cuts you off.

“Used to being stared at from across a room? You don’t seem like the type who buys her own drinks at the bar.” He smirks, exaggeratedly checking you out to prove his point.

Elle rolls her eyes and gently shoves his side. “Cool it, Morgan. She’s new.”

“It’s fine.” You nod your head towards the person directly in front of you, turning your attention turns towards the only one who hasn’t introduced himself.

Instead of offering his hand to shake, Spencer simply offers you a sheepish smile. “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Doctor. Cool.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise and Spencer searches for any sign of derision or contempt in your tone and expression. He’s used to getting such anytime he’s introduced himself to anyone older, even more so around people his age; which you seemed to be.

But you seemed to be genuinely impressed. Instead of asking a follow up question on how someone as young as him could possibly have the title of doctor attached to his name, you nod towards the small rock on his desk.

“Most people decorate their desks with pictures, or maybe even little figurines. May I?”

Spencer gestures that you go ahead and you take the rock from his desk, examining it in a similar way that Elle had a few minutes prior.

“Anyone who would willingly want to work at the BAU isn’t going to be like most people.” Derek quips. “If it’s colorful things you’re after I’m more than willing to take you on a little field trip to our technical analyst’s office.”

“I think it’s neat though.” You move to return the pebble back, but Spencer holds a hand up, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“You can have it if you want. You can, um,” he pauses before pushing your hand back towards you, his skin not actually touching yours, “consider it a welcome gift. Besides I think I picked up a couple more.”

“You know, male penguins offer rocks as a gift to woo female penguins… So if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You attempt to sound nonchalant, but there’s a hint of a teasing tone that laced your words. “On my very first day too.”

Spencer’s lips part, at a loss for words. He scratches the back of his head, trying to look at everything but you. “I, um- no, I wasn’t- I just thought-”

You chuckle at his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink, but decide to quell his embarrassment. “Relax, Dr. Reid. I was kidding.”

“So male penguins don’t do that?” Elle asks, turning to you.

“Well they do, actually.” Spencer answers the question for you, chiming in without a second thought. “The female penguins often use the rocks to build a kind of nest.”

Derek’s gaze quickly travels between you and Spencer. “How do either of you even know about that?”

“I read about it.” Spencer shrugs.

“Yeah, that checks out.” Derek mumbles, but his words are clear enough that it makes Elle chuckle and shake her head. He turns to you, “And Y/n?”

“I couldn’t sleep one night and a nature documentary was the only thing remotely interesting on.”

Elle leans closer towards Derek and turns away from you and Spencer, speaking in a low enough voice that only he could hear. “Oh god, looks like we have two of them now.”

Before you could even ask about it, Hotchner has already managed to walk towards your little group. “Briefing room. You can continue your introductions there. JJ’s got a case for us.”

All four of you know better than to do anything that isn’t following Hotch to the briefing room. JJ had already set up an extra chair for you, and you wait for everyone to take their seats before you take the available space between Morgan and Elle.

“Agent L/n.” Hotch bring’s everyone’s attention towards you as soon as he’s noticed you settle in your seat. “I believe you’ve met agents Morgan, Greenaway and doctor Reid. This is SSA Jason Gideon. JJ, our liaison. And Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst.”

“I’m excited to work with everyone. Thank you for having me.” You greet, sitting-up a little straighter, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your face.

“Oh don’t be so nervous, sweetheart. Your work’s impressive-”

“Garcia, you already looked her up?” Derek asks, but there isn’t a single ounce of shock in his voice or expression.

“Honey, whispers of a new agent? Of course, I looked her up.” Penelope responds, twirling her sparkly pen around. “Not only did cutie over here graduate early every single time, she did a double degree for her undergrad. Also got a near perfect score on the LSAT, passed the bar in the top ten, and currently trying to get a doctorate in sociology.”

You blink back at her, you weren’t even planning to go into detail about your background to the team. Before you could even ask her how she was able to find out, Gideon speaks up from across the table.

“A lawyer? Prosecutor?”

You nod. “Didn’t even last a full year. I always felt like I could be doing more, you know? Applied to join the FBI, worked in the field for a bit, and now here I am.”

Nobody misses the flash of recognition in Hotch’s eyes. After all, it’s a familiar story. But no one presses further.

“Garcia, when you said near-perfect score…” JJ trails off, her eyes trained on Penelope.

“Very near.” Penelope turns to you with a smile, seemingly proud despite just having met you. “179.”

“It’s not really something I go around telling people.” You avoid eye contact with the rest of the team and look down at your lap, fiddling with your thumbs from underneath the table. Despite this, you could still feel everyone’s gaze on you.

“You should. Hell, I would.” Derek jokes before looking between you and Spencer. “Trying to get a doctorate too. We’ve got a matching set of boy wonder and girl wonder over here.”

“We’ll be introducing you as Dr. L/n pretty soon, huh?” Elle leans closer towards you, gently hitting your shoulder and causing you to look up at her.

You smile sheepishly at the rest of the team. “I wouldn’t know about soon. I’ve actually been struggling to finish my dissertation.”

Spencer’s lips part. He feels the need to say something, perhaps some words of encouragement. Maybe he could even offer to help you with your work. Especially considering he had also gone through the process of getting a doctorate. Thrice, in fact. But before he could get a single word out, Hotch’s voice is already filling the briefing room.

“I’m sure we’ll get to know more about agent L/n in the coming days. For now, we have a case to get to.”

___

“This one is yours.” JJ leads you to your desk in the bullpen. Despite it being apparently unoccupied, there's a few piles of folders and loose pieces of paper strewn around. “If you need anything, just let me or Hotch- or the rest of the team really- know. I’ll let you settle in, but remember wheels up in thirty.”

“Got it. Thanks JJ.”

“No problem.”

You take out a couple of things you know you’d want on your desk from your bag; a couple of cute pen holders, some post-its, a couple of pictures. You feel around your bag and take out a book you were reading. You were wondering why you felt like your bag was unusually heavy. Then again, you were zooming around your apartment earlier in the day as you had slept through your alarm. As a result, you pretty much grabbed the first bag you saw and haphazardly stuffed your things inside.

“Neil Gaiman?”

You hear someone ask from beside you.

“Huh?”

Spencer is standing by your desk, eyes trained on the book in your hand. He tilts his head over across the small aisle that separated yours and his desks and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Mine is just over there. It’s hard to miss, people don’t usually bring non case related things to read.”

“Oh, right I actually forgot this was here… I was going to join this book club and I was really excited about it too. But I just found out their meetings coincide with work hours, so now I’ve read this nearly 500 page fantasy novel and no one to talk to about it.”

A beat passes. Then another. A small surge of nervousness goes through your veins. It almost feels like you were oversharing. You were just introduced to the team, they probably didn’t need to know much about what you do outside of work.

“You can discuss it with me, if you’d like.” He briefly looks down at his feet, almost as if he’s carefully picking his next words. And he was. You were new, but you seemed nice enough. And he didn't mind the idea of taking a breather from discussing cases to discussing books, without said books having to do with a case. He didn't exactly want to come off too strong. “I like to read too. Have you finished?”

“Almost.” You click your tongue, considering his offer. Spencer shifts his weight from side to side, anticipating a response. The corners of your mouth twitches upwards at his earnestness. “That would be nice actually… how much time do you need to finish it? A couple of days or…?”

Spencer takes the book from your desk, flipping through the pages, considering the font size, the writing style. He even raises a brow when he notices the highlights and notes you’ve made across the margins. He hands it back to you with a small smile. “Give or take fifteen minutes.”

“You’re kidding.” You don’t even bother to hide the shock that’s plastered on your face. He’s a profiler, he would have noticed anyway. You flip through the pages yourself, trying to figure out if he was referring to a different book.

“I’m not.” Spencer shrugs his shoulders. “I mean I would have to buy a copy of my own first, which would have to wait until after the case.”

“Wow.” You let out a low whistle, more impressed than you had been earlier. “I guess it’s settled then. Let me know when you’ve eventually used up those fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, I will.”

“I look forward to it, Dr. Reid.”

“I do too, Agent L/n.”

Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan watch the interaction from across the bullpen. Derek’s gaze follows Reid as he makes the short walk back to his desk. Spencer scratches the back of his head before quickly looking back across the aisle to where you were sitting. But of course, you were too busy getting your things in order to notice.

Derek keeps his voice low as he leans closer towards Penelope, crossing his arms across his chest. “Fifty bucks says pretty boy and girl wonder are going to get it on. He confesses first.”

Penelope notices you taking what looks to be a pebble from your pocket and place it by your pen holder, a soft smile spreading across your face as you looked towards Spencer. “Alright. I’ll take that action.”

taglist. @vader-is-hot @akimoons @taygrls <3

a/n. s1 spencer holds a soft spot in my heart goshh anyways- hii! i hope you enjoyed reading this- you know, despite it being mostly introductions >_< thank you for checking it out, and i hope u all have a good day :)

#filed : holy ground.#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds series

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sentientsky · 5 months

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i haven’t seen a single episode of x-files in its entirety. but this is canon because i said so. i’m chris carter btw xoxo

#haven’t seen it in its full #HOWEVER I HAVE ABSORBED THE PLOT AND CHARSCTERS THRU OSMOSIS #and by osmosis I mean learning ab it second hand from alex #and then watching clips and reading fic and making fanart bc I’m normal like that :)#x files #the x files #skinner txf #txf skinner #txf #txf shitpost #x-files #the x-files #shitpost

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television-overload · 2 months

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An X-Files fic where Mulder gets amnesia and all he can remember is that he's in love with Scully, except he doesn't know he's never told her that

He figures it's common knowledge, so he assumes they're in a relationship and they live together. Scully doesn't correct him and takes him home with her because she needs to look after him anyway, and the doctor told her to go along with whatever he does remember. His memory would probably return sooner than later

#fics i do not have time to write #x-files fic idea number 6581 #txf #x files #msr

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california-112 · 1 month

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#report writing!#these shots are excellent i love the cinematography #not watching any new episodes today sorry yall #multiple reasons including rl but also like. i havent slept more than four hours in a row since Monday night #literally just due to watching this show #so uh. im trying to calm it a bit #some more gifs coming though maybe #and im working on a fic...#a few fics...#watch this space...#s02e04 #sleepless #x files #the x files #gillian anderson #dana scully #my gifs #the scientist speaks #notes: 200

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itsonlydana · 2 months

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Noisy Neighbors | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

Your new neighbors have been the bane of your existence - or rather sleep - for the last few nights, always keeping you up with their extensive love life. When you go up to confront the couple, you find another solution to the problem.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU] threesome, oral (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v, slight choking, brats (reader & Thranduil), mocking & dirty talk, Thranduil being a snarky bitch, he bites a bit, spitting, one ass-slap, praise, pet names, dom!bard, [reader is described with hair no further, no use of y/n]

word count: 6,2k

an: *lifts hands into the air* I'm sorry but writing Thranduil bitchy in this trio is what comes naturally, alright? I've been powering through this whole Sunday and between watching f1 and eating watermelon and packing up for a vacation, this surely made this day better. (not proofread, just wanted this baby out)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

They’re at it. Again!

Another night and you’re yet again held up by your neighbors fucking for the second time; on a Tuesday no less.

It’s 1 am and nearly seventy-three minutes – timed and noted down in your frazzled brain – after the noise had stopped the first time but now the moaning upstairs continues; this time accompanied by the banging of probably a bed frame that, if the force is anything to go by, is close to smashing in the walls.

You haven’t seen the new neighbors that had moved into the apartment above you, there had been moving trucks, a handful of handsome and very good-to-look-at guys carrying furniture around the garden and blocking the elevator for hours, leaving cigarette buts around and ringing at yours so often you doubted it was an accident every time, but there had been no one who introduced themselves.

Well, not personally.

Or rather in person, because what you hear every night is as personal as it gets.

As you lie in your bed, alone one might add, you wonder who this couple is.

Not that you have anything better to do. They’re the reason you’ve been either sleepless or fallen asleep to a lovely ASMR of two guys moaning that slowly snuck itself into your dreams; if anyone dares to say it isn’t appropriate or normal to think about the – sex – life of your neighbors you could counter that you had every right! Especially you.

They’re probably young, you figure, not by the number of times they’re going at each other and the length, god, it has been a good while, that stamina is astounding, but by whatever coherent words you can understand now and again, their voices delimited the range of possible ages.

And you had seen a pair of laced-up thigh-high black boots walking up the stairs after you had once heard the front door open and raced to peek through the peephole. Another time there had been a pair of very shiny and tight boxers left in the washing room downstairs and while you felt like a creep expecting them hanging on the line a few feet away from you, your basket clutched into your hands as you thought of the other renters here and how often you had seen their underwear, you concluded this must be one of theirs. The shoes as well as the boxers could belong to some older couple but that was most unlikely adding the different factors.

The names on their doorbell say ‘Oropherion & Bowmann’, though no Google search has brought up anything forth that could be them, nothing around this area anyway.

Another moan rips through the night, guttural and raspy, and by now, that sound’s imprinted into your mind as well as the gasp and shout that follow. A few seconds of bed rattling later the boyfriend/husband/lover roommate with lots and lots of benefits reaches his peak as well in a deep moan that reverberates in your bones and sends a heat to your face and much lower.

When silence falls, there’s an embarrassing moment of clarity as you release a shaking breath and quickly stand up on shaking legs to open your window, inhaling the cold air outside to fight against the urge to look up some porn and follow their example.

They’ve gotten to your head, twisted up whatever the stress at work had left to be corrupted into this perverse lust. On the one hand, you’ll do anything for a night of full sleep but on the other hand… what you wouldn’t do to – no, no, no, this route is just a spur of restlessness. Leftover frustration over the last few exes, and dates being unable to bring out whatever your neighbors clearly had no problems with.

They’re so vocal in their pleasure, that the last experiences of grinding against jeans in dingy club bathrooms or hookups ended in an unsatisfied call to a cab firm makes laying there, listening, fantasizing, even more unbearable.

Not just because of the few residues of your consciousness, the blaring ‘this is so wrong’ -sign lighting up neon red in your head, but taking in their noises travels a long way through your body and you’re short of actually snapping and resolving the issue of the throbbing inside your pants yourself.

The silence and air luckily help the cooldown; body and mind alike, and you wait, breathing in and out, calming down. Being up this late (or early) grants you the advantage of hearing the cicadas, the constant clicking, the low buzz of the aircon, and the distant rush of cars passing by. Somewhere there’s laughter, across the street, a TV light flickers through the white curtains fluttering in the opened window.

People and animals are still up. Life’s going on. Another night of losing sleep isn’t the end of the world, even if the long day ahead will try defiling this feeling of peace that you conjure, brain hooked on the few meditation videos your friend has shown you recently. The stress of this situation manifests in an uncontrollable grumpiness that slips over your tongue and spills out of your eyes like thunderous weather clouded once bright skies – suddenly, one sentence meant nice gets on your nerves.

You sigh and trot back to the pushed-back covers of your single bed, slipping your naked legs under the thin sheet. This is fine. Completely fine. You just need to close your eyes and concentrate on those damn sheep you had been counting before the rude interruption.

One sheep …. your shoulders sack into the pillow, relaxing slowly.

Two sheep … a heavy yawn breaks through your lips.

Three sheep … finally, you’ll be able to fall asleep. A few hours aren’t preferred, yet they’re better than no sleep at all.

Four sheep — and is that another. fucking. moan?

You sit up in your bed fast enough for dizziness to take over but that isn’t stopping any of the rage that switches your body to autopilot. In seconds after the godforsaken long moan echoes, you’re taking long and hard steps across your apartment, not caring one bit that you’re wearing neither shoes nor a long enough shirt to barely cover your ass and you haven’t even met them so this was neither an appropriate outfit nor emotion to confront them for the first time but fuck propriety!

“Fucking men,” you mumble underneath your breath as you waltz through your front door, – taking one step back to carefully push a sandal in between door and frame –, and then you’re up the stairs. Each step is fueled by that anger, the restlessness that pushes you over. In no other world would you have gotten this infuriated to completely ignore the otherwise introverted side of you, though they have taken it too far, “Just you wait.”

You basically fly across the corner of the stairway, rushing up the last few steps until you see the dark door, boots standing in front of it, and before you can even think about what you’re about to do, your fists already collide with the wood once, twice, three angry times.

Four for good measure.

Five just because they’re surely taking their time.

Before your hand knocks another time, the door is being ripped open and you’re suddenly face to face with the nightly disturbers of your peace. Or rather face to chest. You’re certain your eyes are still angry because when you lift your chin to look away from those sweaty chests and find their faces, the man closest to you flinches the tiniest bit.

“You’re fucking loud,” you point a finger firstly at them, then down, pronunciation making it clear that you aren’t swearing per se, “I’ve been trying to sleep for so fucking long and I’ll give you one guess why I’m still up and about? Huh? Ever heard of compassion for neighbors or– I don’t know, holding in some of the noises?” Your chest heaves at the row of complaints that spills over your curled lips, cheeks hot and very possibly just as red as they feel.

There is a second of silence where your voice carries through the hallway, bouncing along the walls.

You take the opportunity to give them a quick once-over, adding a wealth of new details to the mental picture you've been building. The man in front has dark brown, messy hair pulled into a ponytail, with some silver strands curling and sticking wetly to his forehead and temples. He sports a scruffy beard, with stubble on his pinkish cheeks and a thicker mustache over his lips. His body hair trails down, covering his defined chest, and extends further into the tight black boxers you saw in the basement.

The other one is strikingly different. Tall as well, towering over you though this has to do with the ice-cold and annoyed look that bores into you out of blue-grey eyes under heavy eyebrows. Long blonde hair falls over his lean chest, slightly ruffled but that’s no wonder after the two-and-a-half rounds in their bed. His lips are stuck together, adding to his attitude.

Both of them are gorgeous, dressed in nothing but boxers, and their bodies are marked by fingerprints and scratches. And while they surely are a bit older than you, that gap couldn’t be much.

“Wow,” the blonde, the one leaning against the wall behind his partner, the one being more long legs than anything else, rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you lovely?”

You swear you nearly feel a vein pop.

“Lovely?” you bring out between clenched teeth.

The brunette shoots a look over his shoulder, getting a shrug out of the taller one in exchange that most likely means he doesn’t care one bit, and then he turns back to you, offering a crooked smile that sinks in the edge of the right corner, an apology pulling the plush lips down. “I’m sorry,” he starts and nudges his head back, “an’ excuse Thranduil, he can be very – bratty.” The thick accent that curls around the words slightly surprises you but you’re back on track fast.

One eyebrow raised you stare at them. “Sure,” sarcasm drips over your tongue, “and to shut him up you dick him down or what?” In the morning, you’ll probably very much regret this crude language, the dismissive tone that resembles more a hiss than anything else.

“Yes, actually,” Thranduil cuts in and pushes his sharp chin up, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose. One of his hands, gods, they’re huge, lazily pats the broad shoulders of his partner, long and ringed fingers clanking together. He’s laying down heavily on some possessive shit you couldn’t care less about.

“Bite the curb or turn the moaning down,” you snap back, brows furrowed together.

“Maybe –”

“I’m Bard, by the way,” the brunette interrupts him and holds out a hand for you to shake. Hands, that had been who knew where a few minutes ago. Both of you seem to realize this at the same moment and while he cringes and pulls back, you offer your name, only looking at Bard and ignoring Thranduil, draped over Bard's back like a prying cat.

“Nice to meet ya. Thought about coming down a few times but never caught you home,” Bard says, attempting small talk. His effort is overshadowed by the sharp look-over Thranduil gives you, and it's clear that this is not the time to play the friendly neighbor.

You make that clearer by crossing your arms in front of your chest, unconsciously bunching up your shirt, and revealing the black string of your panties. Bard swallows, heavily.

“Well, nice to meet you,” you echo back dryly and cock your hip, “Can I go back to sleep in peace now? Are we done with this?”

Bard’s smile is pained, a bit embarrassed if you have to guess. “Sure, sorry again.”

“I’m not.”

Thranduil hasn’t even looked at you as he whispers loud enough into Bard’s ears that it’s definitely meant for yours as well. And that piece of shit has the gall to flutter his lashes, his mouth ghosting over the hickey right against Bard’s neck, the offending lips curled into a smirk you want to wipe off.

The sigh that leaves Bard is deep and deflates his whole chest, his shoulders following the drop of his arms. “Thran–”

“Oh, is that right?” On the contrary, you push your shoulders back and tip your head, sizing up the neighbor who, in your opinion, can move right back out again. No matter how pretty and unfairly sexy he is, that mouth of his ruins it. “Where do you pull out this fucking behavior? I just came here because you two have been going at it for hours and haven’t bothered to think about anyone else. I'm so sorry that –”

“Apology accepted,” Thranduil grins. His grey eyes are gleaming in amusement at your noticeable anger and he makes a high sound out of the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a giggle.

“Fucking hell, Thran!” Bard slaps his hand back, the flat of his palm meeting flexing muscles of Thranduil’s thigh, and lowly, sensually, Thranduil moans. This man is the walking definition of shamelessness.

That sound, the low vibration that usually comes through your walls, shoots to your core so fast that you sputter on the next breath. Hot curling heat makes itself comfortable in your lower stomach and you can’t help but blush – a feast for the unabashed man.

“If I had known we had such’ prude for a neighbor we would’ve found another place,” Thranduil says, most likely just to tease, because in the few minutes you’d known him, he’s definitely a teasing brat.

Ready to fight for yourself you shake your head and furrow your brows further. “I'm not prude –”

“It’s okay” A Cheshire cat-like smile disproves the false compassion, making it all sound much more patronizing. Thranduil has gotten under your skin, an itch you yearn to scratch however you can, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, but I’m not a prude!” You lick your teeth, stepping closer to their door as if that will make your point more convincing than the tight vintage shirt you’re wearing, with a fading Care Bear printed right over your tits.

In mocking, Thranduil rests his chin on Bard’s shoulder, holding your slowly wavering gaze. “Not everybody is comfortable with such an active sex life.”

With ease he smothers every bit of self-control you have left, thinning out your resolve to stand higher than him. You glower, all the thoughts of failed one-night stands pressing onto your tongue and loosening it faster than you can realize what you’re spitting in front of their feet – one statement powerful enough to change the entire atmosphere into another type of tension:

"I would be if I would get it!"

“Woah, let’s take it a notch back, shall we, hun?” Bard’s soothing voice could have been directed at each or either one of you two, and you notice how heavy your breathing has become, how much your hands twitch pressed against your breasts, and how Bard’s eyes flicker over where the shirt stretches tighter.

Interesting…

The hand on Thranduil’s thigh wanders higher, immediately capturing your attention and it's the tanned color of it against ivory white that gets you. The difference in softness and hardness, obvious callouses moving over smooth skin.

As subtly as possible, you shift your weight to squeeze your thighs together, heightening the throbbing evoked by every inch of skin in front of you.

Neither Thranduil nor Bard misses it. You can tell it by Bard’s eyes darkening, Thranduil’s smirk widening dangerously and their stance, Thranduil’s arms slinging across Bard’s taut stomach, fiddling with the silky band of his boxers, as well as Bard leaning more right – opening up the way into their dark apartment.

“What if –,” Bard starts, fingers digging into Thranduil’s thigh.

Ice-cold eyes that suddenly burn with hot interest look you over, stopping right where the hem of your shirt exposes your underwear, “You could join us?”

The offer shuts down your body as soon as your mind comprehends what Thranduil’s lowered, honeyed voice had presented to you and unfortunately, the inquiring “huh?” sounds much more like a whimper than originally planned. This question, this golden opportunity presented on a silver platter is fuel to the aching arousal pooling in your stomach and you can’t deny that, while lying in bed at night, listening to their intimacy, hadn’t evoked that dirty thought in you.

Flushes of heat spread from your pelvis. You lick over your teeth.

“What?” you laugh nervously.

“You’ve heard us right,” Thranduil’s hand stills over the v of Bard’s hips. That he doesn’t move is nearly as taunting as the constant toying, wandering, and scratching he had done till then.

“Pff as if –,” you stutter stubbornly, even if the pooling of wetness in your underwear betrays you, “as if.. as if I'm gonna waltz into the apartment of two strangers.. two men! You could do whatever to me!”

“Yeah, and you heard exactly what we could bring out of you”

Their moans and the bed slamming against the wall are pretty good arguments against a case already won in their favor, despite how you’re still trying to grasp for straws.

“My organs when you strip me to the bed and murder me silently?”

“Jeez, you have an imagination woman. Is the stick this far up your ass that –”

“Babe!” Bard’s elbow lands in Thranduil’s side, warningly and soft just like his voice.

“No, let him finish” you glare at Thranduil, “I’d like to know what he thinks about presumed stick in my arse and its results.”

“I think you are prude and underfucked, jealous and so stripped up tightly you won't admit that a good fuck – and honey, I’ll deliver nothing less – would loosen you up,” Thranduil finishes his speech with a tip of his head forward, daring you to talk back and gosh, you wish you had some comeback, anything to prove him wrong, however, the wetness that sticks syrupy between your legs strikes out all other thoughts except:

You want them. You want both of these men.

“So—so what?” you retort, knowing they're right, a pout forming on your lips and a persistent crease of defiance. “That's such a testosterone-driven answer; typical man, thinking their cocks are the miracle cure to a woman’s dry spell.”

Even Bard tuts now, his soft eyes falling to your underwear. “You sure? Hun, you can whine all ‘bout but I can see your cute little panties being all wet – oh come on, don’t blush, I see them alright?” And sure, the material may cling to your cunt and the breeze in the hallway coming from an open window enhances that feeling, but– “Darlin’,” Bard chuckles, “Stop thinking, ‘s not that hard to accept you want it. Come on in, let Thranduil apologize sincerely for his hissy fit.”

You huff.

Thranduil breathes a kiss toward you, pink lips forming a cute heart, and you only think: “Fuck it.”

Thranduil’s mouth, as he proves a few minutes later, is quite good at apologizing, fantastic even.

You’re spread on your back across their bed – ironically you find out it’s directly above yours –, legs opened up by his large hands, the metal of his rings biting ice-cold into the heated flesh as he kneads his fingers into your thighs and teases you most annoyingly by kissing all around your clit. His arms are wrapped around you in a way that's confining you to lie there and take whatever he decides to give you, or not in some moments.

“Pretty girl –,” Thranduil murmurs into the sensitive and practically vibrating skin, “Should’ve known there’s something sweet about that sour tongue.” His tongue is just as bitter, licking straight through your folds, gathering the absurd amount of wetness and ending shortly before your clit to press a wide opened mouth kiss into you.

Your hips buck upward in desperation and at the same time exhilaration and Thranduil’s biceps flex to pin you down again; giving you no wiggle room.

“Better lie still,” Bard whispers and tilts your head back by the hand he wraps loosely around your throat. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he holds over you. His fingertips close in together, putting the right amount of pressure on your windpipe for you to gasp for air; then he pounces in and takes over your lips in a heated kiss.

Your behavior, because you do in fact give it your best to stop your legs from crushing the head between your legs, is rewarded by Thranduil with the assistance of his tongue finally flicking over your swollen clit, first playfully then in earnest. He closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, grazing his teeth slightly over it and your head would’ve fallen back if it isn’t for the hand holding you to Bard. “Oh fuck,” you whine and grasp down.

The second you burrow your hands into Thranduil’s hair, twirling some strands around your fingers for a better hold, he moans into you. Hot air meets the wetness of your pussy and the tips of your nails dig slightly into his hair roots. It turns him on more, that you grind yourself desperately against his face, your hands weaved into his hair to get back control and Thranduil’s tongue swipes over your pussy, diving in to plunge the tip into your entrance.

“That’s it,” he gasps, sending the words straight through you while he fucks his tongue back into you a few times. Then he switches back to sucking on your clit and doesn’t stop; no matter how your thighs shook and fought to shut close, he stayed on his task of taking you completely into his mouth and rolling his tongue in figure-eights, circling in closer and closer.

The sounds of Thranduil eating you out are pornographic, slickness from your spit and wetness, his ever-constant breathing and relentless swirls through your pussy that have your back in a wonderful arch. Bard’s lips swallow most of your whimpers up, and when he starts to lick his tongue against yours, teeth playfully tugging on your lower lip, you feel the stars before you see them.

It starts up fast, heading toward you at full speed and you choke out your orgasm in a broken wail, fingers tightening in Thranduil’s hair. When he doesn’t stop and stimulation becomes overstimulation, your eyes flutter to escape the nearly drunken stare of his gray eyes hidden under long lashes and finally, he slows down. Bard too, leaves your lips in one last, dragged-out kiss that you want to chase after; his mouth is too sweet and gentle, a perfect harmony of caring and hunger.

“All attitude until the attitude drips down her legs and messes up our bedsheets,” Thranduil laughs huskily and wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips and chin. He puckers his mouth, a wide grin on his face as he crawls up to you. “Now, how do you want this?”

Breathless, you look up to Thranduil and Bard, the latter already moving to shed himself of his boxers. When you see what Bard packs under the tight black underwear a wheezing laugh escapes your throat.

“Yeah,” you scoff at his arched eyebrow, “I would be fucking that multiple times as well.”

His cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and bobbing, white precum rolling down the veins. “Like what you see?” Bard teases, one hand wrapped around himself, leisurely stroking up and down. “I’ll let you have a taste if you’re good.”

A large palm spreads over your abdomen and Thranduil slides two fingers down to pinch your still sensitive clit so you yelp and scowl at him. “You won’t be getting any of that tonight,” his voice sounds threateningly possessive, and at the sight of his much taller body towering over yours and that look in his eyes, your stomach flips. “Don’t think I’ll let you hop on there after you disturbed us. Tonight –,” Again, that word that emphasized like he did promises more nights after this, “tonight he’s mine.” The last bit he whispers into your ear, the soft locks of his hair brushing your still-covered chest.

All that Thranduil had time to undress you for, had been your underwear and those had landed ripped into two somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom. This meant you would have to borrow some of theirs or rush downstairs with your cunt on display and after this should be over, you have no idea if you would even be able to walk.

Thranduil, by the feeling of his bulge pressing into your stomach, isn’t small either. That cockiness had to have a source somewhere and they don’t call it that for no reason.

Bard’s laughter interrupts the staring contest you two have going on, otherwise you’re not sure how long it would’ve gotten on or who would’ve quit first; not you, he could poke his cock into you however he wants. The other man walks around the bed, heading to the end where Thranduil’s long legs hang off and by the sudden twitch in the body crowding yours into the mattress and the cry Thranduil lets out, you strongly think there has been a tickling involved.

You laugh as well, the sound dying swiftly when Thranduil turns back to you and grinds his hips into you. All that comes out then, is a straggled whine.

“Fucking asshole,” you grumble and pull on his hair again, forcing his head down for you to kiss his wet lips.

Able to taste yourself on his tongue, you greedily open your mouth further, and Thranduil wastes no second to dominate. He takes over the kiss, distracting you just enough that you don’t notice Bard taking off Thranduil’s boxers until the cock against your stomach twitches at a particular noise out of the back of your throat and precum dribbles onto your skin.

“Someone’s eager,” you tease.

Thranduil promptly bites you in return. “Says the slut moaning under me,” he retorts, scratching his canines across your neck. “Now, take that skimpy shirt off or I’ll rip it like that sad excuse of underwear.”

You roll your eyes but follow his demand, pulling the tight shirt off and flinging it away. Free for him to touch, Thranduil’s fingers of one hand find your right tit, and, putting the rock-hard pebble in between them, he steals the air out of your lungs pulling and twisting your nipples. “At least, oh fuck you –!”

Your attempt to speak gets drowned out by a cry of need and suddenly, you’re getting crushed into the mattress by Thranduil’s heavy weight, his fingers still tight around your nipple and his mouth close to your ear. His ass is the only thing not forcing you down.

Bard, who has been silently chuckling and observing until now, decided the time’s right to move this forward and over the head of blonde hair pushing itself into the crook of your neck, panting hotly and frustrated, you see Bard circling his rim with two fingers.

“So that’s what shuts you up,” you whisper for Thranduil to hear.

He lifts his head slightly, though the angry eyebrows fall quickly at another moan.

Behind Thranduil, illuminated by the moonlight outside, Bard looks positively majestic and dominating, his shoulder-length hair free from the ponytail, falling ruffled into his face as he inhales and forcefully spits down to where his fingers are slowly pushing further into the ass presented to him.

“That’s good, Darlin’,” he praises and Thranduil keens, eyes full of hearts, “Push back a bit, makin’ it easy for me, aren’t you? Go on, sweetheart.” At your gasp – you’re not unaffected by the praise, not at all and if you weren’t coming down from a sensational orgasm that had your clit in flames.. – Bard looks up and winks at you. “Go on. Wonderful, you’re just the best. Look at you, beautiful.” He’s obviously talking to Thranduil but you follow his command despite it; the aura around Bard makes it impossible to do anything less than obey.

Lying there under these two men, feeling their weight, hearing their moans and the rasps of their deep voices, and being clouded in the smell of sweat, cum, and body odors mixing, is fulfilling fantasies you hadn’t been creative enough to think up.

“Oh – Bard, can you – hah, yes, there –” Thranduil arches into the touch catlike, his back up in the air and the curve of his spine glistening, now that a few drops of sweat are decorating the skin, marked in pink trails of fingernails of a hand that twists slightly and adds another finger.

Your chest is full of blonde hair, platinum after another inspection, strands perfect to comb your hands through. Thranduil’s lashes flutter beautifully. His lips open up, puffing out airy breaths, pink plush lips coated in spit after he runs his tongue over them.

Biting down a comment of how he had been right about the ‘shutting up and dicking down’, you act without thinking. The kiss is much slower and sensual than the last, maybe to distract Thranduil from that pain/pleasure that Bard afflicts on him, opening him up four fingers at one time. Soon though, the grind of Thranduil’s hips becomes too much to endure, he already left a wet trail of precum all over you and while you’re still gasping into his mouth, you blindly reach between your bodies.

“Goddamit,” you grunt, angling your hips slightly, “You’re no help at all.”

“What?” Thranduil groans and everything vibrates, “I’m the one having four fingers up my arse, can’t you just wait a fucking second?”

“Mhm, no.”

“You’re such a brat,” he leans down, hair fanning over you and trapping you in a bubble where it’s just you, his panting breath and the fire in his eyes; he’s gorgeous. “I’m sorry but –”

“Apology accepted,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly.

A second later you swear you’re being ripped apart; immediately tears spring into your eyes, hiding Thranduil’s satisfied smirk behind a watery curtain as he pushes his cock in further, stretching you past known limits. The only proof that you’re still breathing is the pitchy moan, the whine that follows the stretch of inch after inch.

“Fuuck–”

It’s going on forever. The rocking of Thranduil’s hips. The slow drill of his cock pushing its way through you, carving a spot into your clenching walls. Surely it’ll come out of your throat.

You blink fast, regain your vision, and look down.

“Oh my fucking god,” you slap a hand against Thranduil’s shoulder, trying to get a grip on reality, “How are you this big?”

“He’s a mouthful,” Bard pitches in, grinning, and finally reaches a point where he has prepared Thranduil enough. He spits again; once into his hand, which he immediately closes around his cock again, and once between the globes of Thranduil’s ass, watching it trail down. Bard gathers some of Thranduil’s long hair to gently push it over his side. “Are you ready, my love?” he bows down for a soft kiss to the protruding bones of Thranduil’s arched spine.

Ironically, that's what finally gets you and Thranduil on the same page.

A page that was full of unintelligible curses, punctuated by groans and underlined by hands grabbing for each other.

Your hand digs itself into Thranduil’s back as he finally bottoms out, buried so deep you can feel him in the back of your throat – or that’s the pressure from that massive cock bullying your insides – and he stills, hipbones digging into you as well as if he hasn’t already marked you up enough with his girth.

Bard reaches forward, thus pushing in faster than Thranduil expects it and your fingers intertwine over the blonde's back. Electricity zips through you, starting from your toes pressing into the sheets, up your shaking thighs to your clenching cunt, and higher up your spine into your head.

Thranduil, fully sandwiched between you, can do nothing except follow the unforgivable rhythm Bard sets.

The bed creaks as he rocks into you, just when Bard pushes in. The start is messy, lots of “There–” and “Fuck, slower–” until they change it up.

Thranduil’s breathing is ragged and erratic as he moves against you, his hips pistoning against yours in a steady, firm rhythm. His arms hold you in place, his body covering you completely, lips moving along your neck and shoulder. You, being just on the receiving end, take everything he gives.

“Finally out of complaints, aren’t you?” he angles his hips to thrust harder. “A – ahh – all you needed was a good cock to shut you up.”

You almost gag on a whine, proving him just right. “No– so-ohh – not true.”

A fleeing look to Bard and you’re silently begging. For what you don’t know. Maybe his support. Maybe to fuck Thranduil hard enough he swallows his words.

“Oh, Thranduil,” Bard starts and you truly think he’ll be on your side, “If she’s still trying to mouth back you’re doing something – fuck – wrong!”

Thranduil laughs, fucking laughs. Each snap of his hips fills the room with shameless sounds, and as painful as it is to admit, his low baritone causes your pussy to clench tighter, dripping arousal. The fire they started burns higher when he wedges one hand down between your legs, somehow landing on your clit perfectly despite the brutal pace of his and Bard’s thrust.

“You should’ve come up the first day you heard us,” Thranduil spits out, “Could’ve had this cock making you happy every night. You needed this, right? Someone, to fuck you stupid? Did you lie awake all night and listened to Bard fucking me, fiddling with yourself as if your dumb little fingers could ever come close to this?” His middle finger demonstratingly flicks your clit up.

“Please, oh– please, please,” you sob, the messy circles he’s rubbing with his thumb dumbing you down to a mumbling mess. Pleasure dances in every vein, lights up nerve endings in white-hot fire.

"Gosh, I think I’m feeling that stick I had been talking about,” Thranduil rasps, pressing his palm against your lower stomach, bringing out another wail, “Oh wait no, that's just me giving you exactly what you needed."

You’re wringing out his cock, every stroke sends him deeper and deeper, crushing your g-spot, urged on by the slaps of Bard’s balls. He’s taking it slower, staying against Thranduil’s prostate and spreading his hands in the long hair to control when his boyfriend slams into you.

“C’mon, honey. Be good and come on Thran’s cock, won’t you? He’s so sorry for his bratty behavior but as you can see –” Bard sends his hand down swiftly, shocking you as his palm lands flat on Thranduil’s right cheek with a loud ‘smack’; a scream of pleasure and Bard pats the already reddening skin, “he’s insatiable.”

That’s what does it for you, in the end.

Already spiraling toward the edge with Thranduil’s pace and his fingers slipping, rubbing, flicking in all directions, it’s the calmness in Bard that sends you over. The relaxed hold in Thranduil’s hair, how he thrones above you, patiently waiting for his turn because he’s already fucked Thranduil twice tonight – what are another few minutes of watching you slurring their names?

If Thranduil’s cock broke you in half, the orgasm that spikes through you angrily and into every cell splinters whatever’s there to shred. It’s blinding, hot and cold, a wildfire and ice bath. It’s the strongest you’ve cum in a while and your brain shuts down.

Thranduil groans as you clench around him, but, sensing – or seeing it in your fucked out expression – that you can’t take anymore, he drags his cock out of you.

Half conscious your head drops to the side as you try to catch a breath that isn’t sweat and hair. Through blurred eyes, you have a front-row seat to the change in Bard. He swiftly lifts his head once, shaking back his hair and exposing the long column of his throat and the muscles that flex in his shoulder, before he’s sprawled atop Thranduil, grabbing the red and heavy cock wet with your cum and fucks him.

Raw and unapologetic.

Fingers pull on Thranduil’s hair, forcing his head back into his neck and Thranduil groans, arching his back closer to Bard. It’s a glorious sight, their hips meeting again and again, Bard’s hand wrapped around Thranduil’s cock, pulling and jacking him off in that same rhythm that Thranduil had rubbed you earlier.

Bard’s panting as well now, grinding more than thrusting and watches himself disappear inside Thranduil. “You feel so good, Thran–” he mumbles, “one more time for me, alrigh’ gorgeous? You did perfectly tonight, taking me three times.”

The praise continues to rain, hailing down like the short and precise twitches of Bard’s hips and when Thranduil hits the bed in a low moan of Bard’s name, coating the bedsheets underneath him white, Bard follows shortly after; buried deep inside his boyfriend.

For a while, the room is filled with efforts to catch your breath. Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, glistening on Thranduil and Bard lying close to each other next to you as well.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, “the neighbors are gonna hate us.”

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil fanfic #thranduil smut #thranduil fic #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #bard the bowman fanfic #bard the bowman smut #bard bowman smut #barduil fanfiction #barduil smut #barduil x reader #bard x reader #bard x thranduil #the hobbit smut #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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mulderscully · 11 months

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DANA SCULLY | 3.17

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pookie-mulder · 5 days

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Reasons why survival is one of the best (x files) fic genres:

The forced intimacy of an emergency situation, relying only on each other and no one else

Cuddling for warmth (and comfort, but they won’t admit that)

The liminal space where it feels like they’re the only two people in the world and anything is possible

Hiding their wounds from the other person so they don’t worry (and tenderly tending each other’s wounds when the truth gets out, gently scolding them for their stubbornness)

Cheering each other up the best they can even though they’re dying inside

Both of them trying to be the strong one for the other

Putting aside their own needs for each other (sharing food/resources)

Getting by with nothing but scrappiness, determination, creativity, and MacGyver-ing skills

Seeing what the characters do when pushed to their absolute limits, stripped of everything they’ve ever known

The moment of satisfaction and relief when they finally get to bathe/sleep in a real bed/eat real food again

It’s like crack to me. I can’t resist. I think I’ve read most of the major survival fics in this fandom, but feel free to send recs my way if you want!

#txf #fic #the x files #msr #mine

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formulafics · 10 months

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★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | PART 4

Scenario: in which the grid and fan favorite mclaren reserve driver opens a jpg account, but it isn’t what was expected. this time around, yn ln finally reveals who her boyfriend is.

Pairing: f1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: guys, we’ve made it to the last part of the jpg chronicles. i just want to thank everyone who’s followed along with this and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also paying homage to the pink and orange theme since all of the other parts use that!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

yn.jpg

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 245,678 others

yn.jpg VEGAS BABY ‼️ mom (my pr manager) said i can’t say what i want to say about the race. she also said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all…so anyways vegas is pretty cool race aside 🥰

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yn.jpg shoutout to @/logansargeant for his first appearance on this account!

⤷ logansargeant thank you yn

⤷ yn.jpg your welcome!!

landonorris caption is real

norrisnation yn speaking for the lando girlies (gn) once again

rizzciardo LMFAO REFERRING TO YOUR PR MANAGER AS MOM

⤷ yn.jpg she is mother

alphatauritaurialpha yn this isn’t a bf reveal :/

⤷ yn.jpg babe i promise the bf reveal is coming. i have plans for it

⤷ piastrispastry YOU GOT CALLED BABE BY YN YOU WIN AT LIFE

racing.news

liked by ynln.official, pierregasly, landonorris, snd 56,782 others

racing.news sources say yn ln is ‘in trouble’ with mclaren team principal due to her second instagram account where she is notorious for posting funny pictures of her coworkers.

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norrisnation so this is why she’s delaying the bf reveal

ynln.official HELP???? IM NOT IN TROUBLE WHAT 😭

mickshumacher @/ynln.official 😳

⤷ ynln.official mick do not feed into this madness you’re better than that

⤷ sunnyshumacher mick and yn may not be dating but i love their friendship so much LMAO

landonorris im crying this is so funny

⤷ ynln.official of course you’re here

mclaren can’t take her anywhere 🫣

⤷ ynln.official ENOUGH

rizzciardo YN IN THE COMMENTS IS SENDING ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

yn.jpg and yukitsunoda0511

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, fernandoalo_official, and 367,891 others

yn.jpg home is wherever he is. ❤️

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yukitsunoda0511 i love you ❤️

⤷ yn.jpg I LOVE YOU

landonorris the day has finally come 🙏🏻

⤷ yn.jpg stfu

fernandoalo_official 👍

⤷ yn.jpg dad approved. thank you nando

norrisnation ARE WE OFFICIALLY GETTING THE BF REVEAL? IS THIS THE REVEAL? IM GOING INSANE

yukitauri WAR IS OVER

yukitauri MY BABIES IM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

yukitauri ALSO MY PARENTS ‼️ MY PARENTS ONLY BC YALL ARE HATERS

yukitauri THROWING UP RIPPING MY HAIR OUT YN IT IS A DAMN TUESDAY YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW

rizzciardo i expect an increase in content of them. i need it

formulatsunoda ykw i’ll be so honest i did NOT expect it to be yuki but im not mad 🤭

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, yukitsunoda0511 and 354,672 others

yn.jpg back to our regularly scheduled program 😼

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yn.jpg i am @/fernandoalo_official btw and he is @/ynln.official. he’s just a silly teenage-ish girl

⤷ dreamyalbon YN PLEASE WHAT 😭

⤷ fernandolandoland okay but her relationship with fernando is so wholesome she rlly is his grid child

alex_albon nurse, she’s out again

⤷ yn.jpg 🤺

maxfewtrell this account is my roman empire

⤷ oscarpiastri same mate

maxsupermax we are so back

yukitauri idk about yall but i won’t be moving on from the bf reveal that is my home

yn.jpg @/schecoperez not commenting = hater 😿

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated — dae <3

GENERAL TAGLIST | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @minkyungseokie @arkhammaid @vroomvroomverstappen @vellicora @stopeatread @topguncultleader @cixrosie @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @piasstrisblog @lokietro @spidersophie

JPG TAGLIST | @dl-yum @youdontknowmeshh @lighttsoutlewis @kodzuvk @sofs16 @raevyng @p4st3lst4rs @1655clean @judespoision @evans-dejong @leireggsworld @landosgirlxoxo @3joracha @lanando4 @toasttt11 @gaslysainz @sadg3 @scenesofobx @leilanixx @zaynzierulez @flippingmyshit @goldenharrysworld @celesteblack08 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @willowpains @coolio2195 @bey0ndne0 @sheslikeacurse @sadg3 @biitch-with-wifi @torchbearerkyle @plutotcles @cherry-piee (more tags in comments + some would allow me to tag 💔)

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verstappen-cult · 7 months

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# IN A WORLD OF BOYS, THEY’RE GENTLEMEN | MV1 & CL16

summary: people always like to jump into conclusions and you are the internet’s newest victim, the ‘slut playing with two boys’. little do they know, there’s more to the story.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warning: kaia gerber as fem!reader, cursing, toxic fans, tiny bit of angst because i like to make them suffer, f1 grid because they need their own warning. inspired in the song slut! by taylor swift.

# INSTAGRAM

Liked by user01, f1wagsnews and 152,840 others

paddockgossip Max Verstappen and a mysterious girl spotted in Monaco this afternoon. This is the second time we’ve seen them in a span of two weeks. We still don’t know who she is, but they seem pretty close. Is Max Verstappen finally taken?

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user01 not paddockgossip calling max’s childhood friend a ‘mysterious girl’ loool

user02 she’s been getting so much attention ever since they started dating

user03 we don’t even know if they’re actually dating

user04 i’m sure i’ve seen her before 🤔

user05 that’s because you have! she was seen with charles leclerc like a month ago but no one talks about it bc they haven’t been seen together after that user06 she’s friends with max AND charles????

user07 is this really max wearing non redbull merch???

user08 the girlfriend effect is real user09 ffs we don’t know if they’re dating

user10 no one’s asking the important question here: who is she?? do we have an instagram, twitter, something????

user11 she’s @/yourusername user12 no way she’s THAT pretty

Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 63,734 others

yourusername tummy hurts don’t talk 2 me

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user13 so this is max’s new girlfriend?

user14 shes one of us.

user15 SHE LIKES MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANA DEL REY? SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR

user16 and she has stomach issues too. it’s like looking at myself in a mirror

charles_leclerc but i was omw with some goddies, what do i do now?

yourusername tummy don’t hurt anymore 🥺

user17 i didn’t know charles and y/n were that close

user18 girl haven’t you seen the photos? user17 WHAT PHOTOS

maxverstappen1 i won’t say i told you so but i told you so.

yourusername you’re no fun at all

user18 oh to be y/n and have not one but two formula 1 drivers flirting with me in the comments

# TWITTER

# INSTAGRAM

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 135,767 others

yourusername book nerds! 📚 we have some really exciting changes coming for our book club in the next couple of weeks — but in the meantime, i want to share that the incredible @/lauradern will be joining us to talk about “honey, baby, mine”, a collection of conversations between laura and her mom… grab a copy and join us next thursday!

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ana_d_armas This is amazing! 👏👏 can’t wait to join you and know more about this amazing book.

user19 Reading now!

user20 is that-is that really max verstappen?

user21 max verstappen? like as in formula one champion max verstappen? THAT ONE?

user22 what is max doing with her?

user23 do u think he knows about what’s going on with her and charles? think about your gf cheating on your face with your so called ‘friend’ user24 he has to know otherwise that’s pretty sad. user22 think about your gf cheating on you with your friend and having to see that friend every weekend… that’s so fucking awkward!

user25 where is charles? you got tired of him already? 😂

redbullracing You said he was gonna join your book club but all I see is Max napping. Bad. Very bad behavior.

yourusername sorry admin i tried!

user26 i need an explanation, like i would settle for anything at this point i just wanna know what is happening with them

user27 stop freaking out! they’re probably just friends

user28 yeah right nobody believes that

Liked by user29, francisca.cgomes and 254,122 others

paddockgossip New photos of Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N out and about in Barcelona. There are multiple witnesses that saw the couple ‘very cozy, they couldn’t stop touching each other’ inside the restaurant — this comes after the pictures of Y/N with Charles Leclerc kissing on his yatch just a week ago. We don’t know what is happening, who is cheating on who, but we do not support this kind of behavior.

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user29 this is disgusting

user30 what is this chick playing at?

user31 oh shut up you all. you wish you were her.

user32 WHAT IS GOING ON WHY IS NO ONE SAYING SOMETHING ??? user33 probably because this is bullshit

user34 you don’t know anything. is actually so fun seeing you all losing your minds over this.

user35 I NEED ANSWERS

user36 they look good together ngl

francisca.cgomes 😂

user37 kika what does this mean

user38 they’re sick

user39 she’s jumping from one driver to another it wouldn’t surprise me if the next one is lando.

user40 at this point i think she would pretty much crawl into anybody’s bed

user41 she’s just looking for fame

user42 that’s what i’m saying! just look at her followers now, she gained like 100k user43 oh i hate her so much

Liked by user44, wags_news and 534,665 others

paddockgossip Well, well… We really thought we wouldn’t get any more news about the chaotic mess between Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen & Charles Leclerc, so, we were a little surprised to see Charles’ latest instagram story (second slide) where he tagged Y/N! It’s a beautiful picture but then we have Y/N’s story: a conversation between her and Max Verstappen. So, what do you think is happening here?

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user45 OH MY GOD LOVE OF MY LIFE?????

user46 are they-are they soft launching their relationship?

user47 nah it’s mpossible these boys don’t know y/n is playing with them

user48 oh bestie that is so not what’s happening here

user49 I KNEW IT BUT NO ONE BELIEVED ME

user50 what the actual fuck

user51 she’s such a slut

user52 she’s cheating and she doesn’t care. iconic

user53 i’m gonna throw up

user54 they need to get out of there asap

user55 SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM

user56 OH MY FUCKING GOD SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM. SHES DATING LESTAPPEN

Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername you really thought you knew it all, uh?

View all 886,728 comments

maxverstappen1 loves of my life.

liked by author and charles_leclerc

user57 WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFF

charles_leclerc my pretty girl and pretty boy.

liked by author and maxverstappen1

user58 THEY ARE DATING??? THE THREE OF THEM??

carlossainz55 FUCKING FINALLY.

user59 LESTAPPEN IS REAL WTF

lilymhe i love you all so much. 🩷

pierregasly you can finally stop moaning to me about wanting to be public. i was just about to commit murder.

user60 i never thought i would see the day where charles and max would be kissing

user61 not only that but also dating user62 in a poly relationship*

francisca.cgomes my favorite throuple. 💜

user63 this is so NOT what i was expecting

landonorris can you adopt me?

oscarpiastri me too, please.

user64 the fifth pic??? i also wanna kiss both of them pls

redbullracing Can we celebrate now? 🥺

scuderiaferrari My house? 10PM?

alex_albon this is such a surprise to me. i’m shocked.

danielricciardo MY PARENTS. 🤩

user65 look at that last slide 😭 they really were destined to be together.

Comments on this post have been limited.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen fluff #f1 imagine #poly!f1 #f1 fic

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megamindsecretlair · 6 days

Note

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

Pairing: Toxic!Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength.

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself.

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention.

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die.

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever.

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked.

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin.

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked.

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room.

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window.

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet.

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said.

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said.

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked.

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly.

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins.

“I’m sorry!” You moaned.

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant. Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win.

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly.

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked.

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring.

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder.

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue.

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy.

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms.

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds.

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing.

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged.

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him.

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue.

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk.

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said.

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up.

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues.

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs.

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned.

“You like it,” he said with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth.

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties.

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick.

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe.

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for.

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick.

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy.

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said.

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.”

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more.

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog.

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick.

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck.

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick.

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!”

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe.

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air.

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him.

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you.

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth.

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass.

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed.

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties.

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned.

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree.

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing.

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned.

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter.

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by.

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said.

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over.

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said.

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful.

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit.

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission.

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter.

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white.

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier.

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you.

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position.

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said.

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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