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4.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex.
Word Count: 397
Previously On...: You came to the realization that Bucky was the victim in the whole Winter Soldier debacle. And he sent you orchids <3 and that’s why the banner is orchids v. lilies. Get it?!?
A/N: Sorry, friends; I didn't realize how short this section was! Had this set to post at 4:45pm, but it didn’t; not sure why. So, you’ll get two parts today!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Sam hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of lying to Lily if she asked him if he’d been with Bucky tonight, but he’d agreed to do it, all the same.
“You don’t think it’s messed up that you have to lie to your best friend in order to go out with a girl you like?” Sam had asked him as Bucky got ready for his date with Major. “Not even a little abnormal?”
“You know Lil,” Bucky said with a sigh as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. “She’s… protective of me. I don’t want to bring her in on this until I know it’s something real, instead of, you know, just one night of really incredible sex.”
Sam made a disgusted face and waved his hands in front of him as if to ward off Bucky’s words. “Stop, man. I don’t need to hear about how you get your willy wet. You tryna give me nightmares?”
Bucky caught Sam’s eye in the mirror and grinned. Usually, it was Sam making him feel uncomfortable; Bucky quite enjoyed having the tables turned, for a change. “But, for real– if this thing with Major turns into something– and I’m really hoping it does– I’ll tell Lily. I just… kinda want to keep it for myself for now.”
Sam barked out a laugh. “Man, you’re playing with fire, you know that?”
Bucky frowned and turned to face his friend. “What do you mean?”
Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. “If you think McIntyre’s going to just be hunky-dory with becoming second-place girl in your life all of a sudden, you’re either a willful idiot or delusional.”
“It’s not crazy to expect my best friend to be happy for me if I found someone,” Bucky said.
“Willful idiot, it seems,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “So, what should I tell bestie-girl if she asks what you and I did tonight?”
Bucky considered a moment. “I don’t know– tell her we went to a bar, had some beers, and watched sports or something.”
“Please,” Sam said. “Girl knows you don’t watch sports.”
This was true, Bucky had to concede. “Okay, fine. Tell her we went to the shooting range, shot some rounds, then went into the city for some beers. Good enough?”
“Yeah, Pinnochio,” Sam said with a sigh. “That’ll work. Now, go get your girl.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Chapter 2: The Wedding
Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 2.8k
Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.
Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!
Before to leave, this is a prologue of the main character and her situation, hope you like it...
Masterlist
follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics
Taglist @harriedandharassed
Saturday is a thankfully sunny, warm day. The bride and groom are celebrating their wedding at Fire Island National Seashore, it's two hours away from New York City, but at least they're paying you an extra to enjoy a wonderful place like that and they've even paid a hotel room since they've already announced the event won't end until 1:00 am. That's fine for you, I mean not that you had anything else to do since Patrick told you he would be out for the weekend for business purposes. I mean, you are also out for work and therefore it is okay.
The bride and groom are two very handsome guys, you can tell they are in love, happy. You take a lot of wonderful shots and you can't help but be happy about it because you know that, when they will receive their pictures, they can't help but be thrilled as they remember that wonderful day with a big smile and watery eyes. You also take some shots of the guests, the location, the wedding arch, the venue, everything is wonderful.
At some point in taking shots, you realize that you have also framed someone you never thought you would see there again which is the mysterious and charming stranger from the bar, you don't exactly know how to behave as you didn't leave each other in a very civil manner, in fact you almost had a hysterical reaction. Maybe this is the right opportunity to apologize for your behavior or maybe you can pretend you didn't see him!
You decide to ignore him and continue working, too bad the stranger turns out to be the groom's best man and therefore you necessarily have to take a picture of him as well the moment the ceremony almost ended, so you can't ignore him anymore. You wonder why you are behaving this way, it is absurd, he is a guy like any other why are you avoiding him?
The wedding party is wonderful, organized down to the smallest detail with a lot of care, you photograph everything and then you make sure to choose the best shots, you will propose therefore to the bride and groom and make a nice digital and paper photo montage if they want it; even the food is great, everything is beautiful, but there is that persistent discomfort you feel toward the stranger. Evening comes and you're still walking around with your beloved camera attached to your neck and your finger ready to shoot, people are dancing, drinking, having fun, you're smiling too. It is impossible not to smile at such an event.
Suddenly, however, someone pushes you and you to prevent your camera from breaking, you turn around suddenly falling backwards, some people look at you, someone laughs and then someone offers you his hand to help you get up, a hand which you immediately grasp as you stand up, when you look up at this someone who extended his hand, you realize that it was the stranger who helped you. Your eyes meet again and this time you have a chance to observe his dark brown eyes, this time you feel like a thrill running through your body, “Well, we bump into each other again!” the stranger exclaims with a smile.
“Yes, sort of.” you say in an evasive tone and immediately you let go of his hand to look at your camera that is not broken or is still working.
“Nice shot!” the man exclaims looking at the screen of your camera, the subject of your shot is him, but it was an involuntary shot this one due to the fall.
“Um… well, this was not an intentional shot.” you admit looking at the small monitor ‘I've taken better ones.’ you add as you look up at him. He nods, “'m I in the pictures too?” he asks you.
“Of course, you're the best man!” you exclaim, lowering your gaze and clearing your throat.
“Can I get you a drink?” the stranger asks you, “Oh, forgive me! 'm Joel,” he introduces himself by extending his hand to you, you look first at him and then at his hand, which you shake by introducing yourself in turn. He smiles, “Would you like to?” you nod “Well, then this way.” he adds making a hand gesture in following him.
You have a drink, actually more than one, and your initial awkwardness toward the stranger begins to give way to curiosity and a desire to get to know him, no longer escaping him, and only then do you notice his strong southern drawl. You are sitting on one of those two-seater hanging garden chairs, “How d' you know the groom, Joel?” you ask him, sipping another glass of champagne.
“We were friends in our school days, even though we've taken different paths we remained close friends, y' know, we have dinners once or twice a week, barbecues and things like that,” he tells you.
“You look like the barbecue guy,” you say smiling at him.
He smiles shaking his head, “Yeah, huh?”
You nod smilingly, “Well,” you place your glass on the lawn next to the small chair, “I bet I can tell who you are by looking at your hands.” you add looking into his eyes.
He gives you a small grin that causes a wrinkle to appear at the side of his mouth “All right,” he agrees, stretching his hands out, which you grab this time. He has very large hands, big calloused fingers “Judging by your calloused fingers I'd say you play,” you smile at him “guitar?”
“Yes, you guessed it right.” he replies wrinkling his forehead in an amused expression “What else?”
“Well, from the little cuts and scratches I'd say you do a manual work, am I right?” you ask again smiling at him and this time seeking his gaze without avoiding his dark eyes.
“You sure we haven't met before?” he asks smiling at you.
You shake your head smiling again, “Yeah, I'm sure.” you reply “I meet a lot of people in my job, I would have remembered.” you add.
“And why is that?” he asks you slightly losing his smile.
“I don't know,” you reply shrugging your shoulders “some people stick in my mind, I don't even know why.” you add “Well, we were talking about your work, so I guessed right?” you press him.
“Yes, I run a small construction company where I work myself.” you smile “I didn't think my hands said so much about me!” the man exclaims with an amused air.
“Yes, you knows the length of our nails, the nail polish we choose…. It's fun, it's a way of getting to know each other without saying so much.”
“I like that, what 'bout you?” Joel asks by reversing the positions of your hands, “What you think your hands can tell me 'bout you?” you observe how small they are compared to his.
“I don't think they say much,” you answer in a whisper, “Well, maybe there is one thing-- I'm sorry about the reaction the other day. I had some thoughts and I reacted very badly.” you add tightening your lips and looking him in the eye "Sorry, I'm not usually like that."
“So how'd ya?” he presses, sustaining your gaze.
“I'm a photographer, I'm widely satisfied with my job,” you start to answer looking at your hands in his own.
“No, no, no.” he interrupts you making you look up “You, not your job. Who are ya?”
Breathing deeply, not knowing what to answer, you tighten your lips.
“D' ya wanna me to tell you?” he presses you again, you look at him surprised and he continues “You are a person deeply in love with your job to such an extent that you confuse the professional with the person.”
“Now you are also a psychologist!” you exclaim, shaking your head.
“And you're getting angry because I get the point, aren't ya?”
“You had to be a psychologist!” you retort making to release your hands from his grip, but he is quicker because he doesn't let you free to get up and walk away “Let go of me or I'll scream.” you say in a timid whisper.
“Honey, everyone is inebriated. Maybe the only ones left sober are just you and me.” Joel promptly retorts, “Why are you so afraid that someone might read you?” he adds as he gets too close to your face and pulls your hands up to his chest level, in that position he almost seems to want to engulf you, and a strange feeling makes its way inside you.
Fortunately, or unfortunately you don't know, your phone rings and he is forced to let you go, you take the opportunity to get up and take a few steps away from him, it's Patrick.
“Hey,” you say almost out of breath.
“Hi babe, everything okay? What's taking so long to answer?” he asks you.
“Um… it only rang twice,” you reply wrinkling your forehead.
“Really?! Well, it seemed so much more! Whatever, it doesn't matter, the important thing is that you answered. How's the wedding going?”
“Good, there are a lot of interesting people here,” you reply, striving to maintain a neutral tone.
“Are you very tired?”
“No, no,” you reply simply.
“Honey, I hear you a little tired, maybe you should rest,” Patrick says thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I'll go in a little while, 'm almost at the cake cutting and then I'm going to sleep.”
“All right, text me as soon as you're in the room. I'm already in bed, so I'll find your message in the morning. Love you, baby.”
“A kiss.” you interrupt the call with a half-smile.
“Who was the nursemaid?” Joel interjects coming up behind you smiling provokingly.
“No.”
“Was mom checking to see if you answered?” he urges.
“No, it was-- never mind.” you reply shaking your head and putting the phone back in your pocket “We should get back to the party.” you add turning your back on him.
“Sure, go ahead and hide behind your camera.” he chides you, you roll your eyes, but decide not to respond to his provocation.
Soon the ceremony ends with the cutting of the cake and the distribution of the wedding favors, you don't fail to take pictures of the bride and groom, the cake, the groomsmen, the fireworks organized by the groom's relatives, the wedding arch, and then the photo of all the ceremony participants with the newlywed couple. Now your evening's work is truly over, it's time to go to bed.
When you are finally at the hallway where your room is, you are joined by Joel who passes you by half a step “Oh, but look we have rooms next to each other!” he exclaims.
"Oh, cool," you say rolling your eyes using a bored tone of voice.
"You snore?" he says raising an eyebrown with a little smirk on his lips.
You roll your eyes “Are you an irritating guy or is this a behavior you reserve only with those you don't like?”
Joel reconsiders and turns back to you, “Actually it's an attitude I have only toward those I like, and you intrigue me quite a bit.” he responds by placing a hand on your bedroom door as you look into his eyes feeling almost engulfed by his figure again.
“Maybe this pick up technique works with others, but not with me,” you retort, but his strong scent of cologne and whiskey is beginning to envelop your senses making your head almost spin.
“Shall we bet?” he asks you.
“What?” you retort, but he surprises you by kissing you on the lips “No!” you exclaim by shirking and slapping him across the face “Don't do that again.” you add in a trembling voice.
He in response, kisses you again, you suddenly lean your head against the door and make to push him away, but he takes your hands pinning them between his without stopping kissing you, it is a sweet kiss, but one that stuns you completely. No one, not even Patrick, has ever kissed you like this first passionately then slowly, languidly. His tongue gently caresses your lower lip and even this gesture causes shivers down your spine and an strange desire reverberates inside you. He almost crushes you against the door without ever detaching his lips from yours, it is only now that you feel all his power, a languid pleasure growing inside you.
You cannot, you must not give in.
“Joel…” you say pulling away from his lips and turning your head to the side “We can't.”
You feel ridiculous, you certainly can't.
“Why? We're two full-grown adults,” he retorts.
“I don't like you.” you reply quickly “And now get out of my way.” you add quickly pushing him away getting him taking two steps back, then you swipe your card to enter the room and before he can reply, you close the door. You lean against it and hear a few moments later the opening and closing of another door, a sign that Joel left.
You slide against the door, it is not true you don't like him, he is a very attractive man, his hands firmly holding yours, his body crushing you, you breathe deeply, luckily you brought your sex toy with you which loosens that strange worrying languor that had made its way into you, but the closer you find yourself to the climax the more the image of your man fades to be replaced by that of man definitely older than him, with a strong southern drawl, a strong scent of whiskey and cologne, it can't be that you are imagining this stranger whispering profane words in your ear, you can't-- and yet your mind is playing this nasty trick on you by making you come violently, you barely manage to stifle a scream of pleasure, afterwards you throw the sex toy across the bed and stay with your legs spread apart and your head abandoned on the pillow, not even when you are alone at home have you ever come like this. You are really out of your mind, you'd better sleep!
The night passes agitatedly, from the beginning you stared at the ceiling for a long time with your eyes wide open and then you hear outside the ocean kissing the shore several times, then you turned over several times from side to side, slept, but then woke up again and fell asleep only to wake up again. The birdsong that morning is almost a panacea for you, you can get up and occupy your mind with other thoughts, you look out and see that the sky is dotted with dense, dark clouds, a sign that it is going to rain and that you need to leave as soon as possible, you immediately call Patrick apologizing for not calling him last night, but you tell him that you collapsed because of a severe migraine, but you are better now. You also warn him that you will be back in the late afternoon, he also returns in the evening, he tells you, then you say goodbye and hang up. You think you told him a lie it is true, but after all it is a tiny white lie.
When you come down with your small bag, you see in the distance the bride and groom who are having breakfast, they look dreamy and happy, when they see you they greet you warmly and then warn you that they will come to the store to see their full photoshoot. You bid farewell with a big smile and good luck of much serenity and happiness. The wind is also quite strong, a sign that you really need to hurry up and leave or you'll be stuck there. You open the car and put your luggage in the passenger seat, close the door and then go to the driver's side, you start the car, but the car won't start, “Fuck.” you blurt “Start, come on, move.” you mumble still trying to start the engine again. Nothing.
“Maybe it's a battery problem.” says a voice outside the car, it's Joel, leaning against the door of your car “G' morning.” he greets you.
You place your head against the headrest, then turn back to him “Do you have any solutions, genius?”
“Either it's the battery or maybe it's a problem with the battery terminals.” he replies to you as he walks over to the hood “Open up let's see if everything is properly connected.” he continues.
“I thought you worked in the company, not as a mechanic.” you reply by raising the lever so he can look in the hood, then get out of the car.
“Indeed, but my brother's car never starts so on more than one occasion I helped him.” he tells you as he props the hood of the car against the hook “Everything looks fine to me, my brother's car usually is a problem with the cooling system or the solenoid, but here…” he comments aloud as he continues to touch the engine parts.
“Please stop touching, I don't want you to break it!” you exclaim nervously getting out of the car and approaching him.
“Don't worry,” he looks into your eyes for a moment, “I've never broken anything and I'm not going to start with you, honey.”
“Can you tell why from the first moment you saw me you call me that?” you ask him, crossing your arms under your breasts.
“If you mind, I have many other petnames I can give ya.” you shake your head “Shall we have breakfast? I'm starving.” he continues, you are about to say no, but he adds again "I can take you, but I'd like to eat first."
“Actually…” you're about to say.
“I promise I won't kiss you,” he says again, raising his hands in surrender with a small smile.
You smile too, “It's not that, it's…” you say, but you don't know how to go on and so you tighten your lips while scratching your forehead in a nervous gesture “I don't know.”
You are totally losing your self-control, you don't know why this stranger is causing you these reactions, why he makes you feel so attracted to him and at the same time why you almost want to run away from him. Interrupting that stream of thought, there is a first flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder, Joel calls out to you laying a hand on your shoulder “Let's think about your car later, in the meantime let's go back inside and wait for it to pass,” he says, as a first drop of rain begins to fall, you reluctantly pick up your luggage, Joel does the same, and head back to the hotel.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Olalla – Chapter Two
Josh Kiszka x female OC
1903 words
(This one is rather short, but that's intentional. This passage should be posted separately, because of the mood. I promise the next one will be posted very soon.)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Even though this chapter is rather harmless, the rest of the story won't be.
Warnings: melancholy, allusions to heartbreak, allusions to the death of a close person, alcohol consumption
Taglist
Chapter One Olalla masterlist
Agnieszka
“I brought some blankets.”
Even though he invited me to join him, I really wasn’t sure how to approach him. He was cute, and had been very friendly so far, but something about him almost intimidated me. I couldn’t really put my finger on it. Not many people traveled alone here, and those who did were usually seasoned climbers with one thing in mind (maybe two). This obviously wasn’t the case. He didn’t have any equipment when he arrived, not even a pair of decent boots. No lone wolf craving his daily dose of adventure; he was like a nightingale that got lost. Yet, this place seemed to be exactly where he wanted to be.
That man simply made me irrationally nervous. So I fell into the role I knew best: a caretaker. I handed him the blanket and he accepted it with a silent smile, but kept it folded in his lap while he watched his hands laying on the chequered pattern for several long seconds as if he saw them for the first time. He really wasn’t making it any easier for me.
“You were much more eloquent this afternoon.” I tried to sound as unaffected and playful as possible, but the sudden shift in his behaviour from bubbly to brooding was palpable and for a brief moment, it made me rethink my decision to join him. I felt like an idiot just standing there. It was almost dark now and the automatic lights above the veranda went on, effectively turning the perceived sky from electric to navy blue and at the same time putting out the stars that just started blinking. The artificial light still barely reached us, though, and with him facing the other side of the garden, I could only see the outlines of his profile. It was, however, enough to tell me he was troubled.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I had a rather unpleasant phone call earlier this evening.” He shifted a bit to make more room for me and threw the blanket over his shoulders. “Please, sit. I’d love to have some company.”
Would he! Was he running from something? Or someone? I wrapped myself in the other blanket and climbed on the withered wooden table next to him. “So…I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you travelling alone?” He smiled ruefully and looked at me for the first time. The mischievous twinkle from earlier that day was gone. He really did look sad.
I was very much aware that it was a blunt question, but still also one I asked frequently, for practical reasons, so I decided to play this card, hoping that he wouldn’t get offended. I’d have to ask anyway, sooner or later. “I don’t want to pry, really, it’s just part of my job to give you proper instructions. It’s generally not advised to go hiking alone, and if you do, the lodging provider should be notified about your daily plan, so that we could give the mountain rescue service some valuable information about your approximate location if necessary. It’s just a common policy. The weather is unpredictable here and you might easily find yourself seeking a makeshift shelter somewhere on the way…” I know, it was still pretty lame.
He only nodded. “Noted…I see I’m in good hands…and as to why, I just wanted to. I think I needed some alone time. I’m just not used to it, I guess…and it’s only harder when the ghosts won’t leave you alone.”
“So, a ghost called?”
My question made him laugh. It was genuine this time, and it sounded like sleigh bells. “Yeah, you could put it that way.” He took a sip of his drink and, remembering why he invited me in the first place, handed me the second, unopened can. I don’t really drink beer, and that wasn’t why I came, but I accepted anyway.
“Is that why you were singing?” It had been a woeful melody and judging by his current state of mind, it had been an intentional choice, too. He didn’t respond at first and I saw how his jaw clenched. My own insolence surprised me, but what was I supposed to do, ask him what he thought about the daisies in our garden? Still, I didn’t want to make it sound like I was interrogating him, so I quickly tried to turn it into mindless chatter. “That’s what I was doing when I was little. Me and my sister, actually. We would sing when we were alone in the evening, to chase away ghosts and fairies.” I regretted it immediately. Good job Olalla, now you sound like you never grew up.
He looked at me again, and the twinkle was back. He could see right through me. “You’re not the one to talk about the weather, are you. That’s ok, I like it. I’ve had enough chit chat in my life.” A car just passed by behind the garden fence and the headlights illuminated his face for a brief moment. He gave me just a side glance, so I could take a good look at his profile for the first time. A strange man, indeed. His features were symmetrical and delicate – plump lips with a slight pout, a straight nose with just a tiny bump at the bridge, and oh, those big dark eyes – but it was still masculine enough to be considered attractive, with sharp jawlines and well-tended facial hair. His haircut was strange, and he wore earrings too. Clearly a bohemian of sorts. You really couldn’t blame me for wanting to know who he was and what whim made him come here. I felt emboldened to continue.
“I just did talk about the weather,” I teased. “But you’re right. I could politely ask you where you’re from and what you’re planning to do tomorrow, or some other meaningless casual shit. But, since you don’t even have decent clothes with you, I already know your only plan so far is to go shopping. Our guests often sing tramp songs around the fireplace, but you’re the first lonely siren we’ve ever had here. So yeah, I’m curious.”
I really wouldn’t blame him if my inquiry offended him, but he just laughed again and patted my shoulder gently.
“It’s a song I wrote just recently with my brother. And yes, it’s kinda about chasing ghosts, although it was never my intention to chase them away...”
“You write songs?”
“Only when there’s nothing better to do,” he tried to laugh, but it was more like a sigh. “But enough about ghosts. Now I’m more interested in the things that are real. I’m Josh, by the way.” He offered me his hand and I took it. He didn’t shake it, just held my fingers gently, with his thumb slowly caressing my knuckles. I was so completely taken aback that I didn’t realize I was being rude again until his raised eyebrows put me back to reality.
“Umm, my name is Agnieszka, but everyone except my parents calls me Olalla now.”
“Olalla…,” he rolled the nickname slowly around on his tongue, before he gestured towards the building. “…because of this?”
“Good catch! Eulalia actually is my baptismal name. You can tell my parents really love this place,“ I snickered. “Mom also liked the meaning behind it… But no, it’s in fact just a coincidence. It’s just my favourite song. I was listening to it all the time after…a bad thing happened. It helped me to let go of an actual ghost. It may sound like a cliche, but I think music can heal. And then it kind of stuck.”
I didn’t even know why I said that. I was well known for keeping my feelings and hurts locked safely out of anyone’s reach, but something about him made me feel like I could pour my heart out and everything would be ok. It was wild. We were both complete strangers, yet both already overly familiar with each other. It felt surreal.
I looked up to see his eyes boring into me. I realized that he was still holding my hand when he lifted it to his lips in a silent nice to meet you gesture. It seemed completely natural to him, but I must have looked a bit shocked, which I was, because he quickly dropped it and apologized.
It effectively killed the conversation. There was nothing to apologize for, but I couldn’t force myself to tell him the real reason why I suddenly felt so shaken. He had nothing left to tell and I didn’t know what to say, so after a short, awkward while, he cleared his throat and suggested it was probably time to go inside.
I didn’t want the moment to end. Under any other circumstances, I would just return back to my usual professional self and let go. People come and go, sometimes you click and sometimes you screw up. But other men who came in here never behaved like this. Hikers and sportsmen and family men and someone’s else’s men. Some were more polite than others, and the sweetest or the flirtiest of those single ones sometimes warmed my bed, but their intentions were always pretty clear…and so were mine. I never behaved like this either. He just made me. This Joshua was an enigma. And, even though I didn’t want to admit it, he just ignited something in me that I thought was long gone. Maybe if I did admit it to myself, I would just return back to bed and probably tried to forget anything happened. Instead, I wanted to get to know him. The best thing I could think of was to take his hand in mine again. “I’m sorry you’re chasing ghosts, Joshua.”
“Please, it’s Josh…”
“I Like Joshua better. I think it suits you more,” I whispered, smiling, and he squeezed my hand. “And I’m sorry you were haunted,” he mumbled.
We spent another surreal moment in silence, listening to the sounds of the evening, until a particularly loud group of people returning from a pub to a nearby hotel brought us from our mutual reverie.
I finally let go of his hand, opened the can and took a healthy gulp. “Fuck ghosts, and cheers to the living then!”
We spent the rest of the evening in a lively conversation about my family and our life in Willa Eulalia, he told me about his siblings and his hometown that was some sort of a Christmas village. At least that’s how he described it. I also advised him where to go and what to see after he told me that he was rather a “valley guy” and didn’t dare to venture past the tree line. At least not yet.
It was well past eleven when we finally made our way back to our respective rooms, both already chilled to the bone and I also desperately needed to pee. My private apartment was on the second landing so we stopped by my door to say goodnight. He took both my hands in his and shook them playfully. “Thank you for the lovely evening Olalla. I can’t wait to see your lovely face again in the daylight.”
“It was beautiful, by the way.”
“What was?”
“Your singing.”
He observed me for a few long seconds, thinking. Then he placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “Night, lovely.”
Chapter One Olalla masterlist
@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr
#greta van fleet#gvf#josh kiszka#josh gvf#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfic#greta van fluff#greta van fic#gvf fanfic#gvf fanfiction#josh kiszka fanfiction#josh kiszka fic#Spotify
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What happened to your Society6 store? It seems like there's a lot less designs available than there used to be. I was hoping to get some tapestries but everything is gone...
Wow! This ask made me go check out my Society6 shop — and you’re right, it’s pretty much all gone! So, here’s the story on that for anyone who hasn’t heard:
Society6 decided that their outsized profit from artists wasn’t cutting it — they now require artists to pay a monthly subscription for the privilege of letting Society6 profit off of them, while foisting additional shipping fees onto the artist and reducing their payments on top of that. I had heard some months back that they were planning to switch to a subscription model, and it looks like since I didn’t pay up, they permanently deleted everything except 10 random pieces of art from my shop. They did this without notifying me at all (classy!) after years of making tens of thousands of dollars off of my work — but weirdly, this is kind of a relief for me?
My cut of Society6 sales were already a laugh even before the proposed changes (I make more money from someone dropping like $20 at my personal print shop than I do from someone buying $100+ of my stuff from Society6) but the tapestries and blankets were so cool and I loved how much people enjoyed them, so I kept my art available there. They've deleted nearly all of my work now, so I'll go finish the job and close out my account for good.
Anyway, it’s disappointing, but Society6 has chosen to suck profoundly at this point in time. Totally scummy treatment of the artists whose work is the foundation of their entire business model. I’m lucky enough to have a supportive audience and never relied on Society6, but I feel badly for artists whose livelihoods have been impacted by this. (If you’re one of those artists, know this: you deserve better compensation for your hard work than what S6 is giving you!)
OK, with all that said — I’m bringin’ tapestries back, baby! They can’t keep this cowboy off the range! Right now I’ve ordered samples from some different places to compare quality, and once I’ve settled on a manufacturer I‘ll be making them available at my print shop. I’ll post on my socials when I’ve sorted it out!
#jentalk#society6#i mean it's now owned by a former Ticketmaster exec#shocker! hahaha#at least he's consistent about working in the 'extorting artists and their fans' field
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?”
Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form.
cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes:
• Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option.
• Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs.
• Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs.
• Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs.
• Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs.
• Private posts.
• Drafts.
• Messages.
• Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted.
• Post+ subscriber-only posts.
• Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
#tumblr#[tumblr]#third party sharing#openai#midjourney#chatgpt#ai art#ai#fyi#psa#anti-FUD#artists on tumblr#writers on tumblr#illustrators on tumblr#tumblr update#oh tumblr#hellsite (derogatory)#“opt out” no longer looks like a word#but still#opt out my friends#please#also if you want to leave tumblr i don't blame you but please remember to hit that opt-out button before you go
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worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON
authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.
paring mean!rafe x soft!reader
summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.
warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.
Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.
Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.
You.
His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.
You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.
"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved."
Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him.
One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.
People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.
The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.
Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.
You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.
Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.
All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.
"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.
“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.
“And I love you more,”
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@chenslucy @winterrrnight @rosezza @solanathascientst @runningfrom2am @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#mean!rafe x soft!reader#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines
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Rules
Summary: Joel wants you pregnant. And you want to have Joel's baby. And not even a big council meeting would stop the two of you from getting what you wanted.
Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.9k
Rating: E
Warnings: Raider!Joel who has his own little community, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), massive breeding kink, dirty talk, established relationship (kind of), unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), massive exhibition kink, someone dies because he looks at reader for too long, so guns and death, mentions of drugs, Joel picks reader up and carries her away but this is fiction so Joel has super powers to carry anyone he likes anywhere because I say so
A/N: three fics, four days. I am going to hibernate into my horny jail now. Boop!
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
It was getting dark and he still wasn’t back.
He told you he had the council meeting today, but you were running out of time. Every minute getting you farer away from the window you needed him to hopefully grant him his biggest wish.
Making him a Dad.
According to your calculations your fertile window for the month was closing and you needed him.
Joel and you found each other almost a year after the outbreak. You, alone since you fled your college on outbreak day, stumbling towards the abandoned Ikea store in search of just something to drink or eat, Joel stepping in front of you before you could even reach the door, his hand wrapping around your neck, making you look at him as he questioned what you were doing.
Even years later you felt like he was sent to you from a higher power to safe you.
To feed you.
To own you.
To fuck you.
You became his wife, not even a month after joining his little group, that now was bigger than ever before, people living in all the abandoned department stores around, living under his protection.
You were his only wife, even though he allowed all his men to have as many wives as they pleased.
He was pretty possessive about you, and you over him. Sure, you couldn’t actually do anything against him taking another wife if he wanted to, but he assured you from the beginning that he was a one wife kind of husband.
And he demanded the same in return, not that you had a problem with that.
Joel was known to be a fair but ruthless leader. He had no time for bullshit and he didn’t give second chances.
The power he wielded had become one of your biggest turn ons, fascinated how with a flick of his fingers, his men would dispose of every problem, every person he did not trust.
There weren’t many rules around here.
Listen to everything Joel says.
And don’t look at you the wrong way.
Something that you had to admit was hard when he was fucking you out in the open hallway.
Most of his men knew not to look at you too long, no matter if it was in passing or when Joel was fucking you in front of them.
You would look too, but you weren’t the one who would lose their cock or life for it.
Glancing at the clock you knew your fertile window was closing. He had fucked you twice today already, but you didn’t want to waste more time.
Standing up from the bed you took your clothes including your underwear off, grabbing a wrap dress he had found for you years before, wrapping it around your body. Pulling on some high heels he loved to see you in, looking at yourself in the mirror you gave yourself a small smirk, before you opened the door, waiting for your assigned guard of the day to step away from the door, before you started to walk towards where you knew Joel held his meetings.
„This is becoming a real fucking problem. A problem I pay you for to get rid off. What the fuck is taking so long?“ Joel hissed, his jaw twitching as he sat at the edge of the table, legs wide spread, a glass of whiskey in his right hand.
He had been stuck in this room with twenty of his men and nothing was going according to plan.
It was moment like this he really missed Tess. She’d have this shit done weeks ago.
„More clickers than we planned for. We hope we’ll be done by the end of tomorrow,“ Sam, one of the men who had been with his group the longest assured, and Joel sipped on his drink.
„I want the whole building cleared by the end of the week. Then I want you to extend the outer wall around it. We need more fucking space so we can extend the drug lab. Frank is expecting a new drop by the end of the month in exchange for more ammunition,“ he reminded them.
„I’ll take care of it personally,“ Tommy said, who was sitting to his right, looking at him and Joel gave him a quick nod.
„There are to many fucking assholes trying to get into this settlement. Too many to handle. Might be time to stop for a while,“ one of his other advisors spoke up but Joel wasn’t listening to anything after that, cause he heard the familiar clicking of your heels before the door opened and you walked in.
A vision in purple silk, giving him a big smile as you walked into the room, the men around him staggering to their feet to show you their respect.
„Please, don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, ignore my presence at all,“ you hummed, giving Tommy a quick peck to his cheek before you turned away from the table and straddled Joel’s lap, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.
The conversation behind him opened up again, Tommy taking over while Joel stared at you.
You made quick work of releasing the bow that held your dress together, letting the fabric part, his hungry eyes all over your naked body. One of his hands cupped one of your tits and you smiled at him.
„Whatcha up to baby girl?“ He asked, already hardening in his pants.
„Need you to cum in my wet little pussy again. Need you to fuck it deep inside of me so I can give you your baby,“ you leaned in, nibbling at his earlobe. He groaned as he tilted his head, his eyes closing for a moment as you kissed up his neck, his hands now both under your dress palming your ass roughly.
When his eyes opened he found one of his newer men, Tom, looking at you, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw Joel had caught him, looking away quickly.
„First strike,“ Joel’s voice boomed and you moaned before you kissed him, your hands in his hair, Joel’s eyes on Tom who had had the nerve to look at his wife. At you.
Everyone knew the rules.
They look at you for too long, they die. He had lost a lot of men that way, but he didn’t fucking care.
Your fingers were working on his zipper when the conversation in the room picked up again, one of the other men talking about the greenhouse and what shit they needed in the future.
Boring.
Joel grunted when your fingers wrapped around his cock, helping you pull his pants down a little so you could pull him out of his pants and he leaned down, sucking at you tits.
„You gonna fight our kid for my milk huh,“ you teased and he bit into your nipple, making you moan.
„Gotta get you pregnant first, baby girl,“ he sucked a bruised just above your right tit while you pumped his cock in your fist.
„You gonna make me shoot all my men if you tease me like that one day,“ he grunted, bringing one hand between your legs, three fingers slipping inside of you with ease, a smirk coming to his lips.
„My dirty little whore,“ he whispered against your ear and you gasped, your back arching against him, your dress falling down your shoulders, exposing your naked back to the room.
Not that you cared.
You loved when he fucked you in front of other people.
„Put your little pussy on this cock, baby girl,“ the fingers that had just been inside of you pushing into your mouth as you lifted your ass so you could line his cock up, sinking down on him slowly.
„Fuck baby,“ you moaned and he leaned back in his seat, both of his hands now on your ass as he looked up at you.
„Make yourself cum on this cock and I’ll fuck your ass later,“ he said and you whimpered as you began to ride him. Moving your hips on top of him, your hands on the armrests of his chair for leverage. He slapped your ass, hard, and you cried out.
He watched you satisfied as you fucked yourself on his cock, before his eyes found someone behind you.
„Don’t bother Elijah, his wife is super fucking pregnant. Find me tomorrow morning, and I’ll go,“ Joel said, still clearly listening to the conversation happening in front of him. You clenched around him and he looked at you again.
„You get so fucking wet for me like this. Maybe I should always let you fuck me in my meetings. Would make them a whole of a lot more enjoyable,“ he hummed at you and you smiled.
„You’d loose all your men within a week,“ you grinned, turning your head to look at Tommy.
„Except Tommy,“ you hummed and the man looked at you, giving you a wink.
„Tommy is family. He can look all he wants,“ Joel said and you winked back at Tommy before you focused back on Joel and began to bounce on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin and you moans filling the room. Joel played with your tits, pinching your nipple as you clenched around him. He pulled you against his chest, fucking up into you, his mouth against your ear.
„Cum for me and I’ll fuck you on the table. And I’ll let everyone look when I put a fucking baby into your belly,“ he whispered and you moaned loudly as your orgasm washed over you, only realising that he had picked you up and sat you down on the table, when he had pushed your back down against the cold surface and began to drill his cock into you.
„Watch how I fuck my slutty little wife full of my fucking cum,“ he grunted out with every thrust and you stretched your arms over your head, your tits moving with every hard thrust of Joel’s cock into you.
„Joel,“ you moaned, crying out when he slapped your clit.
„Gonna fuck you so full, you’ll be dripping all the way back to our rooms,“ he groaned, his eyes on you.
„Shit baby,“ you whined and he groaned.
„Watch,“ he grunted and you looked down, his cock pumping into you, your cum all over his cock, fucking you so hard the table was moving over the floor.
„Shit,“ he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he twitched and filled you with his cum, pumping it deeply into you.
Still out of breath you gave him a dozy smile that he mirrored, before his eyes darkened, his gun in his hand the next moment, raising it up to shoot someone behind you.
„Inform Tom’s family that he won’t be back,“ he said to no one in particular before he reached for you, helping you sit up. Apparently Tom had in fact not stopped looking at you before Joel gave his permission to look.
He pulled the fabric of your dress back over your shoulders, his softening cock still inside of you, before he picked you up.
„Meeting is dismissed,“ he called over his shoulder, before he carried you back towards your rooms.
Where he fucked you once more to make sure it would finally take.
#my fic#Joel Miller#Joel Miller x fem. reader#Pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#raider!Joel Miller#tlou#tlou fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction
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Smile❤️ (Yandere X Loser!Reader)
Micky thought that he couldn't feel love.
Ever since he could remember, Micky couldn't connect with anyone on an emotional level. Even his own family members were like aliens to him, creatures that stretched their lips into strange contortions, ETs that became unreasonable when he wouldn't do the same. As a teenager many girls flirted with him in school, hell, a few guys did as well, but none of their confessions ever stirred any emotion from him, even at the height of his puberty. The smiles of the people around him never felt warm or welcoming. Just, tight. Cheeks pulled back, revealing teeth, expecting him to mirror their action, and Micky couldn't understand why.
Nothing made him smile.
College was further isolating. Group projects seemed to no longer be a thing, (at least in the classes he took) so his interactions with humans slowly became less frequent, making his classmates look more inhuman and monstrous.
Until someone in his college was doxxed for being a creep. It was interesting, watching how quickly people turned on their friend, forcing him into an outcast because someone online revealed his private post history.
An annoying young woman in his language arts class gathered people around Micky's seat to talk about what had happened. Micky wouldn't have searched up the drama on his own time, but he didn't see the point in pushing everyone away.
"This user on Xforums, anonymousXnightmare is the one who doxxed Nathan."
AnonymousXnightmare? How fucking lame.
"That's a lame username..."
"Maybe it's a kid..?"
Micky did his best to ignore them, but the username kept popping up in conversation throughout campus. It was getting a little annoying. Some people were mocking the name, while others were praising the "internet hero". It started interfering with his ability to focus in his classes.
But the gossip cooled down after a week, and life began to run as normal, until another student had their life ruined. A football player, they didn't post anything incriminating or disturbing. It was anonymousXnightmare who posted their own collected evidence. Pictures taken from afar of the player with his highschool sweetheart, as in sweetheart who was still in highschool. Recordings of the two of them. Months of stalking all compiled by the stranger.
Again, Micky was bombarded by chatter, excitable young adults losing their minds over the situation. It was... irritating.
Back in his dorm room, Micky was scrolling through Xforums, the most popular forum used by students in his university, made by students for students, searching for the loser with the lame username. Scrolling past the photos he had heard about, he found a post stating
"Dear Allen Brackens, if you cannot stop blasting your shitty music in the halls on your shitty speakers, I WILL ruin your life!"
and Micky had to lean back, to just take in what he had read. That must have been the name of the football player. What he was doing was genuinely gross, and should have been exposed by someone. But did this poster really stalk them for what looked like months just because he listened to music they didn't like?
It was so dumb.
He scrolled down farther into the mystery poster's history, to the first man they doxxed.
"Dear Nathan McAllister, we all know you're a two faced little bitch. Either stop littering the campus with your Jesus pamphlets, or else..."
Micky, for the first time in his life, was amused. The whole situation was so stupid. They really ruined their fellow students lives, just because they annoyed them?
He made an account just to follow his mystery poster, not sure yet why he was interested to see what they would post next.
Less than two days later, and Micky's phone notified him of another post.
"Dear Samantha Rudbeckia, your obnoxious laughter is driving me insane. Can't you see how annoying you are? Knock it off."
That was it?! That was enough to set you off? Laughter? Micky paused mid step, still staring down at his phone. Something felt off about his face. It hurt.
It was pretty easy to find anonymousXnightmare in his school. Micky picked up a map of the university, and mapped out the paths of the three people targeted. They ran into a lot of different students throughout their day. But they only ran into a couple of people who openly seemed to hate them, and only one of those people was a student named (Reader). (Reader), who constantly appeared as though they would collapse at any moment, the hollows under their eyes so dark they looked sickly. (Reader), who despite being borderline anemic, was very sneaky, and very good and being unnoticeable despite their extreme appearance. Unfortunately for them, they had someone watching them as closely as they watched their victims bullies. Micky watched as they stealthily snapped photos of students from around corners, how they seemed to blend into the background and nobody noticed them hiding in waiting.
Micky felt ashamed for ever thinking you were lame. You were.. cute.
The way you crouched like a bug, hunched over like a roly poly scared of being picked up. The way you bit your dry lips in anger to the point they bled.
Micky's face hurt more and more. Every time he saw (Reader) a pain he had never felt before would strain at his cheeks, and his face would feel hot all over. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection in a window that Micky realized he was smiling. He never knew that smiling hurt. But he couldn't stop it.
Pictures and videos of Samantha and her married professor were posted online, and Micky was excited to know what (Reader's) face would look like when they reaped the fruits of their labor. But when he snuck into their classroom, zooming in on their exhausted face with his phone's camera, he felt a new emotion seeing that (Reader) was just as annoyed as they always were. A hard pit fell from his ribs into his lower stomach. He was disappointed.
Why aren't you happy? You won. You should be rejoicing right now.
He felt conflicted and confused. Like an octopus was throwing a tantrum in his abdomen, squirming uncomfortably. And it ruined his day. Micky couldn't focus on any of his classes, and the rest of his day was like a foggy dream. What was it about (Reader) that attracted him to them so much?
A cute young woman with smooth black hair approached Micky, a dark blush complimenting her picture perfect face.
"Um, excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?"
Micky snapped out of his thoughts, turning his gaze down towards the beautiful person. Her rosey lips were slightly upturned in a posed way.
She's smiling.
Micky internally verbalized it. The same way he did whenever he saw anyone smiling. It never looked good. Smiling was so awkward, and strange. People loved seeing others smiling, and smiled when they were happy, but it always reminded Micky of how not one of them he was.
"Hi! My name is Maggie."
I don't care.
"We have econ together?"
"Okay."
Why was seeing her smile make her look fake, inhuman, alien? Just like everyone else. Then why was Micky so let down seeing (Reader's) lukewarm reaction to their victory?
"I was wondering, I mean, (laughs), a group of us are going out for drinks later, and we, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.."
She giggled nervously, fiddling her fingers and biting her lip. The image of (Reader) practically eating their lower lip was triggered like a trap. This woman, whose name wasn't worth remembering, made Micky feel nothing. The uncanny feeling of speaking with a living mannequin or an advanced AI. Her movements weren't natural, her smile was just a contraction of muscles. Then, like an epiphany, Micky realized all at once what made (Reader) so special.
Maybe, it wasn't that everyone else was alien, but Micky. Micky was the only one who never fit in. The only one who didn't feel emotions or connect with others like everyone else could. And there was a bug walking around in human clothes, barely staying awake in class and casually ruining peoples' lives simply because they annoyed them. (Reader) wasn't a human either, just like Micky. That's why they didn't seem happy with their victory. Why would a human bring them joy?
Micky's lips pulled tight, smiling brightly at the young woman before walking away without saying a word.
You're the first person to make me feel, because you're just like me. Right, (Reader)? If no one but you can make me feel, then no one but me should be able to make you smile!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
(Reader) slouched over their laptop, their messy hair pulled back in a top bun just to keep their untrimmed bangs out of their eyes in the privacy of their dorm, eating another cup of noodle while reading all of their "fan mail". Samantha wasn't getting kicked out like they had hoped, but Professor what's-his-nuts did get canned, so hopefully when Samantha comes back to class she'll be too busy sobbing "woe is me" to find anything funny.
Ba-ding♪
A private message popped up from an account with an automated username.
(Reader) snorted so hard a noodle went up into their sinuses.
user01793664544001: I know who you are <3
"Ah-ow! God damn!"
anonymousXnightmare: Who the fuck is this?
user01793664544001: ur prince charming <3
anonymousXnightmare: Don't fuck with me
user01793664544001: come find me
"Watch me, bitch."
Looking up IP addresses is a lot easier than people make it seem. It doesn't take a genius hacker to doxx someone. Of course, (Reader) goes above and beyond, often following assholes for months to collect evidence of their douche baggery. (Reader) got an address in less time than it took to finish their noodles, and took down their hair, quickly setting out to start getting information on their newest "bully".
The address took them to another dorm across campus. How dumb are they? (Reader) faux chuckled, feeling superior to this newest dick. No one was quite as smart as them.
As they crept through the building, no one payed them any attention as they began taking notes on the residents. It had to be one of these losers.
They didn't have a chance to fight back, as they passed one of the rooms the door opened and pulled them inside faster than they had a chance to scream. The man who abducted (Reader) wrestled them to the floor, panting heavily.
(Reader) glared up at the handsome stranger, smiling down at them in a creepy way, his cheeks twitching like he had never smiled before, like his face hurt from the small action. His face was pink and he was sweating, panting with a feverish moisture glazing his eyes.
"Aren't you happy? You found me~"
"G-Get off of me, you pervert!" (Reader) attempted to kick the kidnapper off of them.
This wasn't the answer he was looking for. His smile fell briefly before bouncing back.
"You're just upset because you don't know me yet. Don't worry, it took me a while to realize you and I were the same species as well, so don't worry. I'll wait, I'll wait for you to realize you love me too..."
He rambled quickly, pressing harder against (Reader's) body. A strange noise squeaked out of his throat as he seemed startled, (Reader) feeling a bulge form against their upper thigh.
"Ah, I'll wait.. I'll wait for you to love me too.. but I need you to do something for me while I wait.."
Micky stuck his fingers in (Reader's) mouth, pulling their dry lips out till they bled across his skin.
"Smile for me..."
#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere#pathetic loser#loser reader#tw stalking#bully reader#yandere fanfiction#gender neutral reader#romance#not proofread
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Hello!
How do you leave a good comment on a work when you notice a large error? Or a small error,m I get so nervous to leave a comment nowadays because not many people have clear statements regarding criticism. So, I'm hesitant to point out anything out/ leave a comment that's anything but positive.
I remember a few months ago, on a BNHA work, I corrected the timeline of canon events that author got wrong (because the WIP seemed to be going down that route of "canon adjacent" work that spawn from a canonical event). The author had a message beneath the chapters that "all comments were welcomed," so I thought it was okay to leave the type of comment I did. But I dealt with several aggressive messages from the author and the author's friends about needless critique and how rude I came off as afterwards (I apologized,but I still got messages for a while).
The whole thing freaked me out a bit because I hate any semblance of confrontation ,so now I'm nervous about commenting any work- even those with explicit statements on criticism (welcome ,not welcomed,etc). I leave kudos and such ,but sometimes I debate over whether or not the author needs my comment about their typos. I try to sandwich a critique between two compliments like everyone says,but then I end up with a paragraph-length comment, and I worry about coming off too strongly.
I'm rambling,sorry.
Is there a guide to good comments for criticism in fanworks? Besides not giving criticism when criticism would not be welcomed??
Thank you for your time.
First of all, I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience. I'm sure that was awful for you, and I totally understand why it would freak you out.
When it comes to correcting things in fanfic, there are a lot of things to take into account.
Why does correcting the error matter to you?
How well do you know the author?
How long would it take to make the correction?
There are others, but these are the bigger "buckets" I see most of them fitting into.
If the error matters to you because you get annoyed when you see typos, for example, then that's more of a "you" problem. You can download the fic and edit out the typos and then when you reread it, you won't have to worry about them.
If the error matters to you because you'd be embarrassed if you had posted a fic and there were typos in it, that's also kind of a "you" problem. If the author feels the same way, they'll likely have an author's note indicating that they want to be notified. Otherwise, they're likely resigned to the idea that typos will happen, and if they reread their work themselves, they'll edit them out if and when they catch them.
If the error matters to you because it's non-canonical, this one is more of a wait and see. Maybe the author made the error by accident, but it very well could be on purpose. Perhaps that small change is relevant to the overall plot they're developing. Maybe it's just a thing that they personally hate in canon and have decided that they don't want to include for that reason. Maybe it's a genuine error that they'd be horrified to notice later. There's no way to know.
And that last one is where we come to the second item above. If you know the author well, you can message them and have a chat and bring it up there. I'd recommend just starting out by talking about the story as a whole and what their plan is for it. As I said, maybe what you see as an error is actually a conscious choice that they've made for the story that they want to tell. During that conversation, you'll be able to figure out whether it's actually an error and whether they'd want it pointed out or not.
If you don't know the author well, you could point an error like that out in a comment but then you need to think about the third factor.
Typos take seconds to change. Plot points take hours, days, weeks, or longer. Asking someone to put in a lot of time to make a change to something they've already been working hard on can be really demotivating - even crushing.
For a lot of authors (possibly even most?) they put a lot of work into their fics before they ever get to the point of posting them. They've read, revised, planned, and plotted. They might even have additional chapters already written that are in the revision process and just haven't been posted yet.
Especially in long works, authors look to the comments as a cheering section to urge them on towards completion, so posting corrections or pointing out errors can feel like someone standing up and booing. I think that's what happened in that BNHA situation you referenced in your ask.
That's why the general suggestion when it comes to commenting with corrections is just to not do so. If you want, you can comment about all of the things you like in the fic and then ask if the author wants a beta. That would allow you to have those conversations about their vision for the fic, and it would also allow you to offer feedback before the work is posted and while it's still being edited and worked on.
Otherwise, if it really does bother you, I'm afraid you might just need to dip out and find a different fic.
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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson One
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader
Lesson One: Slick Silicone
(aka the one with the pocket pussy)
Summary:
What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot.
And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on.
Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.
Word Count: 17,200
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, go to my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on all notifications there.
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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: A lot of general stuff pertaining to an average Criminal Minds episode - mentions of death, mentions of murder/killing, mentions of possible trauma from being in the BAU, somewhat graphic descriptions of a dismembered corpse; this is not a casefic but there is a small section where Reid, Morgan, and the reader are at a crime scene and details of a case are mentioned (not a case in the canon, one that I made up); the reader sticks her hand inside of a corpse to get something out of it for the purpose of discovering evidence; making inappropriate jokes about dead bodies - the reader character uses dark humour to cope with the trauma of the BAU job; Spencer doesn't understand sexual slang and the reader has to explain it to him (warning for slightly awkward moments because of this?); the reader calls Spencer 'honey' (could be considered condescending); use of Y/N and L/N (meaning Your Last Name); Reid struggling with his sexuality/Reid has some internal biphobia; mentions of anal sex/anal stimulation but it does not take place during the fic; passing mentions of Reid being bullied in school; mentions of past Spencer x Lila Archer (in this fic, she blew him while he was working that case but they didn't keep contact when he left LA); mentions of the reader going to a sex shop; mentions of the reader dressing feminine/wearing lingerie; mention of Spencer being taller than the reader - but I think he would be taller than most people.
This is primarily a smut fic; there is sub/dom dynamics - Reid is submissive and much more inexperienced (he is 'learning' about sex from the reader character, but he is not completely a virgin, he has had one singular sexual experience before); the reader is dominant and much more experienced sexually; the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; mentions of Reid being 'innocent' (it's more so that sex is an under-researched area of his life and he is too shy to explore it by himself); undertones of corruption kink; use of a sex toy - the reader gifts Spencer a fleshlight/pocket pussy and they use it together; hand kink - the reader admires Spencer's hands; undertones of corruption kink - the reader is enjoying 'corrupting' Spencer and showing him these things for the first time; BDSM/kink negotiations, possibly under-negotiated kink; the reader teaches Spencer BDSM terms.
Everything in this fic is fully consensual and safe for the characters; Spencer calls the reader 'Miss'; mentions of Spencer cumming inside the reader (does not actually happen during the fic); passing mentions of Spencer being insecure (about his sexual skills and his looks); Spencer is very obedient; the reader calls Spencer: 'good boy', 'baby', 'pretty boy', 'dumb baby'; most of this fic is Spencer being fucked with a fleshlight while it's controlled by the reader; heavy praise kink (from the reader toward Spencer); light bondage - Spencer's hands are bound behind his back; edging - orgasm delay/orgasm denial (from the reader toward Spencer); the reader makes Spencer ask permission to cum; some size kink - big dick Spencer is too big to fully fit inside of a fleshlight; Spencer does a lot of begging in this; slight crying kink - the reader thinks Spencer looks pretty when he cries from being overwhelmed/edged a lot; degradation kink, dumbification kink, reader is condescending towards Spencer; some overstimulation toward the end; slight cum kink - Spencer cums all over himself and the reader enjoys it. I believe that's it. There is descriptions of aftercare!
A/N: fair warning - a lot of this fic is build up/sexual tension (my speciality). and there is a long section before the smut where the reader is teaching Spencer BDSM terms and teaching him how to pick a safeword, but I think it's interesting and I enjoyed writing it. and it's worth the pay-off imo. also remember, if you want me to continue this series, please give me some feedback on it! I would love to hear what you thought of this fic before I start writing another one! I highly resisted the urge to put Mommy kink in this, but I feel like it would be unrealistic for a shy Spencer to be comfortable calling his partner Mommy during a first time (he would have a Mommy kink but he would be way too uptight/uncomfortable to admit it).
...
Being an FBI Profiler meant there were some rather… strange parts to your day.
Things that were once in a lifetime tragedies for other people that had become intensely casual routines for you. Things like - looking at gruesome crime scene photos, seeing a dead body in person, facing down a killer.
You liked to thank your nihilism and dark sense of humor for keeping you sane, working a job that would have driven others insane in such a short amount of time. You also liked to distance yourself from the darkness of it, and preferred to think of the people you helped, rather than the people you couldn’t.
Especially during moments like this, when you were exiting the car at yet another crime scene. It was a dump sight for the body of another young woman, adding to the trail of victims this newest killer was challenging the BAU with.
“Just like all the others… the limbs and jaw are missing. Eyes gouged out. This guy has one hell of a compulsion.” Morgan commented, looking down at the body… or rather, the torso, with intense disdain.
“I would say it’s less of a compulsion, and more of a fractured sense of reality.” Reid commented. “It’s likely that the UnSub sees these corpses as pieces of art. It’s why he was frustrated when the first four weren’t found soon enough, that they weren’t discovered when they were… ‘fresh’, so to speak. That’s why he started leaving the clues for law enforcement. He wants his ‘art’ to be seen in a timely manner.”
“Couldn’t the guy just take up painting or something?” You replied, looking at the body, still slightly shocked by how brutal the whole thing was.
“Looks like we got another one.” Morgan pointed out, crouching down beside the body, motioning toward a large gash between the victim’s ribs. “Another clue, that is.”
For the last three victims, the UnSub had cut a hole into their torso and left some kind of object inside. Something small that hinted at where the next victim would be found.
Morgan looked over his shoulder at you, as though waiting for you to make a move. When you turned to Reid, he was looking over the rim of his coffee cup at you with very expectant eyes, the thick lenses of his glasses making his stare all the more imposing.
You quickly realized that both of the men wanted you to stick your hand inside the corpse and pull out whatever was inside.
“What?” You chuckled. “You want me to do it? Is it just cause you think I’m the gross one?”
Your reputation for having a strong stomach preceded you.
You were shy or squeamish about anything, socially or functionally, and the team often took advantage of this. They would throw you into an interrogation with a suspect who made crude comments and you would end up grossing the man out with even more graphic words. They would have you sifting through a suspect’s trash looking for receipts or pieces of evidence and sometimes you would laugh at the things you found, rather than gagging at the smell.
It was rare that anyone on the team saw you flinch.
“The body’s been sittin’ out here in the sun for three hours.” Morgan said, glancing from the corpse up to the bright sky overhead. “I’m not doin’ it.”
You chanced another look at Reid. The small smirk he wore told you that he wouldn’t have to give some lame excuse about how he was squeamish and had just eaten in order for you to truly give in.
“Ugh, fine.” You said.
You naturally met Reid’s hand when he came out of his pocket with a blue latex glove for you to wear. You put it on, switching places with Morgan so you could kneel down beside the body. You put your ungloved hand on the ground to support yourself, and then inserted your fingers into the cavity - the hole between the ribs that the UnSub had made.
Luckily, you didn’t have to reach too far inside before you felt something. Though, because of the slight decomposition of the body and the bloat from the sun beating down, you did have some trouble getting a good grip on the item to pull it out.
Naturally, your discomfort with the situation caused your dark sense of humor to act up. You needed the comfort and you barely thought about the odd joke before it left your lips.
“God, it’s like a fucking fleshlight in here,” You groaned, disgusted laced through your voice as you finally hooked your fingers around the object and managed to pull it out of the wound.
Morgan chuckled at the joke and held out an evidence bag for you (which he had gotten from one of the uniformed officers on the scene). Before any of you could truly analyze the item that you had just pulled out of the body cavity, a voice trampled over your thoughts as you dropped the item into the plastic bag.
“Don’t you mean flashlight?” Reid piped up, so eager to correct you, as always. “Also, how is that comparable?”
You looked up at Reid with awe.
For a moment, you wondered if he was fucking with you.
But the look of genuine confusion plastered across his features - something so rare for the certified genius. That look made you realize that he genuinely didn’t know what a fleshlight was. He had no idea what you were talking about.
Your insides tingled with glee at this realization.
Morgan sighed when he saw the look that you and Reid exchanged. You, wearing filthy, smug dawning and Reid painted entirely with cluelessness. He hated where the exchange was going, knowing how shameless you always were in conversation. He quickly tried to distract from the interaction.
“So, this looks like a horseshoe-” Morgan said, motionting to the object in the evidence bag.
“No, I meant fleshlight.” You said, quickly trampling over Morgan’s words. “F-L-E-S-H-L-I-G-H-T. Fleshlight. Do you not know what that means?”
This caused Morgan to sigh sharply and shake his head.
You took off the glove with a snap and tossed it away, happy to be rid of the smell.
You stood back to your full height, entirely intrigued by Reid’s continued confusion.
“It could represent luck. Maybe a casino?” Morgan tried in vain to distract the two of you from the conversation once again.
Maybe he was trying to preserve Reid’s naive innocence, something you were determined to dismantle piece by piece because it gave you intense joy to see the shock cross his features whenever you explained outrageous concepts to him. The time you had explained to him what a ‘blumpkin’ was, you hadn’t stopped laughing for hours when he could hardly believe you.
“The nearest casino is 45.6 miles away, it’s far outside the UnSub’s geographical comfort zone.” Reid said, quickly dismissing Morgan’s thread of conversation before he turned back to you. “And no, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is it a coroner’s term?”
You let out a harsh snort at this. You had gotten a degree in mortuary science before you became a Profiler (likely something to thank for your strong stomach). But it was your other area of ‘study’ that made you an expert in this.
“No, honey, it’s not.” You quickly answered.
There was a slight flash through his features when you called him ‘honey’. You weren’t sure if it was shock or displeasure, but either way he quickly straightened his face and went back to intrigue. He stared at you with his full attention, ready for you to explain it to him. He was ready to learn and catalog the information in that big brain of his.
It was something you found entirely endearing.
“L/N, please, don’t-” Morgan begged you not to explain it any further, once again wanting to keep Reid in the dark.
Mostly, he wanted to save himself from the embarrassment of witnessing the interaction between the two of you.
“What?” You chuckled sharply, turning to Morgan. “There are some things the genius still needs to learn, apparently.”
Reid rolled his eyes at this. He didn’t want to admit that it was true.
“The other night I had to explain to him what the distinct difference between a Butt Dial and a Booty Call is,” You continued, giving an example to prove your point. “Because he walked into the bullpen and loudly announced to JJ and Elle that he was sorry that he booty called me at 3am and woke me up.”
Morgan choked on his laughter when you explained this.
“Dude, seriously?” He posed, raising a brow at Reid.
“I fell asleep with my phone in my back pocket when I was reading Voltaire.” Reid explained, a heavy blush falling over his cheeks. “I thought - I thought -”
“Okay, playboy, I’m gonna go call Hotch about this,” Morgan announced, motioning toward the evidence bag. “And I’m gonna pretend not to hear anything that’s happening over here.”
Morgan walked off to the car, and Reid turned to you with a defeated look cast over his features.
“I do appreciate when you explain these kinds of things to me.” He told you softly. “It… it saves me from future embarrassment.”
As much as you enjoyed the shock factor of watching Spencer’s innocence melt away when you explained such crude things so abruptly - that was also part of your motivation. You knew that as much as he was a genius - had stunning intellect on paper, could recite statistics by heart - he didn’t have the kind of social skills or social knowledge that you did.
“Do you really wanna know what I was talking about before?” You posed, giving him one last chance to preserve that innocence.
He nodded, ever thirsty to chase an unanswered question.
You held back a giggle.
“A fleshlight is also called a pocket pussy.” You told him, launching into a quick, efficient explanation for his confusion so that he could have his question answered.
“What?” He gaped, having the most beautifully dumb look on his face as the words left his lips.
“It’s a sex toy.” You told him.
His face scrunched even further into bewilderment, and you knew that now he was simply jumping through mental hoops, wondering what kind of sex toy a ‘pocket pussy’ could be. So you decided to make your explanation a bit more detailed.
“It’s a…” You thought for a moment about how to explain it to someone who had never seen one before. “A kind of tube? Usually in the shape of a large flashlight, and on the inside there’s a silicone vagina, or sometimes a silicone anus, and it’s meant to simulate intercourse the same way that a dildo can simulate intercourse by going into a vagina. Or an anus, of course. You do know what a dildo is, right?”
Reid quickly nodded his head - that bright flush even fresher on his cheeks as a deep thoughtfulness came over his features.
“Yeah. Y-yeah. I got it.” He quickly stuttered out, assuring you that he now fully understood.
“Cool.” You said, walking by him and thumping him on the shoulder for reassurance that the conversation was over.
“Wait, is that the hand that you - inside? You haven’t washed your hands yet!”
“I wore a glove, Reid!”
…
Turns out the horseshoe had a unique stamping on it from a closed down metalworks business. Four thousand square feet of abandoned building, perfect for the UnSub to make his ‘art’ inside. He had intended for the clue to lead the team to a barn where he had staged the next corpse, but you broke into the building and caught him in the act of drugging another woman before she was killed.
The state of the building was horrifying - the limbs of the other victims strewn about, a lot of them put on display like trophies.
Overall, you would call it a good day. There was a life saved.
On the way back home, Spencer could barely make eye contact with you while on the jet. His eyes constantly flickered away from you with purpose whenever you looked near him. The two of you played Gin Rummy and you had to remind Reid to take his turn several times. There was even one point where he won a hand and you had to tell him so - he claimed that he had ‘forgotten the rules’. As if.
You couldn’t figure out why he was acting so strangely. You wanted to chalk it up to the harshness of the case, the graphic nature of things - but you both had seen much worse. The ‘fleshlight’ conversation was so minimal on your radar, such a shameless moment for you. It was something you considered so entirely regular as an interaction on the rollercoaster of all things bizarre that was Spencer Reid. You were barely even thinking about it.
You had no clue that it was racing through his mind at top speed as he remembered your words from earlier that day.
…
Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him before. Sure, there were plenty of things he didn’t know, like you said. Plenty of things he was curious about, but far too shy to look up. Plenty of things he didn’t want to get caught looking up out of fear of embarrassment.
He knew some things about sex toys. He knew far more about the history of sex toys than he did about modern sex toys. He could tell you that Cleopatra had owned one of the first rudimentary vibrators, made from the shell of a hollowed out gourd filled with bees. But if he walked into a sex shop today, he probably wouldn’t know what half the stuff was or what it was used for.
When he thought about what you had told him, it only made sense.
Of course there would be some kind of solution, some kind of ‘opposite’ to a silicone penis used to simulate sex inside a vagina.
(“Or an anus, of course.”)
Those words flying out of your mouth so casually had sent Reid’s imagination flying into an array of interesting directions. Of course he knew that plenty of men liked to partake in anal stimulation for pleasure. There were no particular statistics about this that came to mind, because it was never something he had directly read a study about.
It was something Reid had always been curious about, because he did know that prostate stimulation was often considered to be the height of pleasure for men.
(Spencer’s attraction to men was a can of worms that he would leave untouched and attend to another day. The innate warmth that he felt when he looked at Morgan was something he always felt the need to suppress. Even though it was quite literally impossible for him, he was still trying to forget the involuntary reaction he had when he looked at a gay porn magazine that his classmates had left in his locker as a joke when he was thirteen.)
For the most part, his mind was hyper-fixating on your explanation of that object he had never even heard of before. The antithesis of a dildo, the supposed inversion of the male genitalia in a more portable form.
A pocket pussy.
You talked about it so casually, explained it so perfectly. You spoke about it in such a way that it left Reid’s mind whirring, wondering what such an object could specifically look like. Of course, he knew what a vagina looked like. In theory.
Yes, he was a virgin.
He actually wondered if he fit that definition exactly. He knew that most people considered virginity to be a milestone passed once they had participated in full blown intercourse for the first time. But he wondered if what he had done would ‘count’ as losing his virginity. It was something he would have asked you, would have wanted your social colloquial opinion on - if he wasn’t so embarrassed about being a virgin in the first place. (Or maybe being a virgin, he still wasn’t too sure.)
He had been touched by a woman before, but only once.
After he and Lila Archer had climbed out of the pool, before the team had arrived, she had kissed him on the mouth again and continued to thank him for his ‘bravery’ and ongoing protection in a very interesting way. And before he could truly process it or stop her (due to the intense unprofessionalism) - his pants were down and her mouth was on him. Because of his inexperience, it had lasted a whopping three minutes. (According to Spencer’s impeccable memory and the fact that he had been glancing between the top of her head and a clock on the wall, worried they would get caught, he knew for a fact that it had been three minutes and fourteen seconds to be exact.)
Which, at the time, was lucky. Because as she licked off her lips and looked up at him through her lashes, Morgan called out his name through the house, finally looking for them. He had rushed to straighten his clothes and look normal - but because Morgan caught them both looking incredibly guilty, he had hounded Reid for days about the ‘details’. Reid gave him none.
But that had been his only experience with a woman sexually. His only experience with anybody, for that matter. So any of his knowledge about vaginas was based entirely on pictures; scientific diagrams, and renaissance art. He was never gutsy enough to buy porn for himself.
He tried to imagine what a silicone vagina would look like - how one would fit molded into a plastic tube. He tried to imagine how it would feel to stick his penis into one.
Of course, he had plenty of experience with masturbation.
His instincts had taken over at the right age for that. Even though his brain was always advanced well beyond his years, puberty kicked in just the same. He had been a hormonal teenager just like everyone else. (Of course, he was the only one going to CalTech getting a PhD in chemistry, but he was right on track in terms of his physical development.)
And naturally, his imagination often ran away with him whenever he had the time alone to masturbate now that he was an adult.
One of the things he thought about most often when he masturbated was you.
The fact that you were so self-assured, so confident, the fact that nothing could shake you. It always made Spencer imagine you pinning him down, taking control of him, kissing him hard. He had orgasmed in his hand a great many nights, imagining you on top of him - imagining what you might feel like around him, on top of him, riding him.
He found it intensely difficult to pay attention to Gin Rummy when all of these thoughts were running through his mind.
…
You barely remembered the fleshlight conversation at all. Barely remembered it, that is, until you were on your way to work the next morning.
There was a small fender bender between two cars on your normal route and the traffic build-up around it caused you to deviate. Because of that, you just happened to drive by your favorite sex shop. The sign caught your eye, and you figured: you were already late. There was a great coffee place across the street. You could grab yourself a latte if you parked.
You were surprised that a sex shop would be open so early in the morning, but you were glad that you made the stop. Usually, you would have taken your time to browse. You liked to see what was new, especially in terms of costumes and lingerie.
You didn’t have a long term partner to impress, but sometimes you did like to strut around the house in lingerie (in your fleeting free time away from the BAU) just to make yourself feel good. That, and it was always fun to see the look on a date’s face when you gave the sensual promise of ‘slipping into something more comfortable’ and then came back in a latex nurse’s outfit and six inch red heels.
Unfortunately, today you were low on time and very set on what you wanted.
You went straight to the wall of toys and zoned in on the selection of fleshlights. You picked out the most ‘basic’ one you could find. You didn’t want to assume Spencer’s preferences, but you picked one that resembled a pussy rather than an ass.
It was on the expensive side, but you knew the look on Spencer’s face when you gave it to him would more than pay it off in your mind. That and imagining him using it, knowing that it would be far too tempting of a gift. He would never be brave enough to buy something like this for himself and once it was in his hands when he was alone, he would be far too curious not to use it - yeah, it was definitely worth it.
You walked past a rack of lube on your way to the cash register and realized that it would be rude to give this kind of gift without a bottle of lube in accompaniment. So you bought a bottle of your favorite water based lubricant. An unscented one, knowing that Spencer was a no-frills kind of guy, even though you usually bought a strawberry scented one for yourself.
You got the items put in a discreet, labelless black bag and then got yourself a latte. And you couldn’t help but to grab an almond croissant for Spencer because when you spotted it in the pantry case, you did think of him.
Of course, when you walked into the office (the black bag safely in the backseat of your car) Hotch just happened to be walking by with a handful of files on the way to his office.
“You’re late.” He commented, not looking up from the paper he was reading.
“Traffic was hell.” You fired back.
“Yeah, and I’m sure that latte just magically transported into your hand.” He said, his tone blank and unreadable as usual. “I want all your reports about the case on my desk by tonight.”
Usually, there was a grace period of two or three days to get the reports about a case done. But clearly, Hotch didn’t like your tardiness. You considered it worth it.
“Yes sir.” You mumbled under your breath.
He didn’t say anything else after that, simply retreated off to his office.
You figured he couldn’t be that mad. He knew the job could be an emotional strain, and it was okay to deviate from such a hard routine every now and then. Especially because now you were going to be spending the next five hours writing out all the gory details of how you had pulled a horseshoe out of a woman’s dead torso in order to catch a killer.
You walked over to your desk, which was right in front of Reid’s, and placed down the paper bag with the croissant on top of one of his files. This easily distracted him from whatever he had been writing - most likely one of his reports about the case.
“Almond croissant,” You said, placing down your coffee cup and placing your purse underneath your desk. “Your favorite, right?”
“It is.” He grinned at you. “Thank you.”
It was that sweet little smile, those big kind eyes staring up at you through the lenses of his glasses like you hung the stars in the sky - it was that bit of sweetness that got you through writing your reports. So yeah, it probably wasn’t just dark humor and nihilism that helped you keep your sanity. It had a lot to do with the pretty boy you got to sit across from every single day.
You worked on your reports. And yeah, you took too many coffee breaks, including a long lunch break with Elle, Penelope, and JJ where they insisted on discussing your ‘crush’ on Spencer.
You denied it.
Elle profiled your lie (which you insisted was not a lie) and JJ laughed about it. Penelope started humming wedding music under her breath and you threatened to spit in her salad.
By the time you actually got the reports done, it was late. Everyone else had gone home - except for Spencer, who was still sitting at his desk across from you with his lamp on and an air of quiet concentration. When you got finished with the last report, you slammed the file closed and let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair and running your hands harshly over your face.
“Finally done?” Spencer’s delicate voice inquired, peeking up over the median between the desks to look at you.
“Yes, finally.” You grinned back at him. “You done too?”
You couldn’t help but to ask. Spencer was always incredibly quick with his reports, simply by the nature of the speed at which he could read and compose writing. You wondered what exactly he had been doing at his desk for the past few hours. Perhaps he had been looking through old case files, possibly unsolved ones, thinking up new leads while there was no pressure looming over his brilliant mind.
“I finished up at three o’clock.” He said.
You glanced at your watch - it was getting close to nine. That made you entirely curious about what he had been doing, sitting at his desk for that many hours. What had he felt the need to stay so late for?
“So what has been keeping you busy this late into the night, Doctor?” You asked.
“I was reading.” He told you honestly, motioning toward a thick novel that he had in his hands.
“How many books do you have over there?” You chuckled.
Again, you knew that because of the intense speed he was capable of reading at, it would take a lot of books to keep him busy.
“Just one.” He answered, easily catching your eye and maintaining eye contact.
Both of you knew what this meant.
For a while, he had been rereading through old case files. But, not wanting to haunt himself with those gory details, he had chosen instead to simply sit at his desk and reread the same book over and over again because he had wanted to keep you company.
What you didn’t know was that his mind had still been heavily plagued by thoughts of your sex toy discussion from the other day, so he wasn’t exactly reading at lightning speed as per usual. Instead - letting his imagination wander, thinking about where he would get a silicone vagina if he wanted to buy one and if a toy would feel as good as yours. What yours would feel like around his penis if he ever got the minuscule chance to actually experience it.
“The Hollow Men by T. S. Eliot - but um, I was waiting for you, actually.” Spencer announced, making his intentions entirely clear, just in case you hadn’t already figured it out. “I was hoping maybe we could get dinner together? We haven’t - we haven’t hung out in a while.”
He seemed nervous asking you this, even though you were always enthusiastic in welcoming his invitations to spend time together outside of work.
Last month, he had brought you to a conservatory housing and actively breeding endangered species of butterflies in order to save the populations from extinction. It was a building full of plant life, an indoor jungle filled with the beautiful insects that took your breath away. Listening to him ramble on about the different species and their latin names, the patterns on their wings and their purpose of camouflage - it had been one of the most pleasant, most romantic non-dates of your life.
You didn’t understand why others on the team acted like his presence, especially his ramblings, could be a bother.
“Sounds good.” You told him with a smile.
He smiled back at you fondly.
“I have to drop these on Hotch’s desk and then we can go.” You explained as you stood up and began gathering your files. “But uh, I don’t really feel like going out? I’m way more in the mood for take-out and a comfy couch.”
“There’s a good Chinese place a few minutes away from my apartment.” He told you. “If you consider my couch comfortable?”
You resisted the urge to tell him that you loved his apartment because the smell of books penetrated every inch of it; the scent of yellowing, worn paper living there like the comfort of a library. But you held that back - choosing instead to say something else.
“The comfiest,” You grinned at him as you walked by with the armful of files.
…
You weren’t entirely sure when you were going to give the ‘gifts’ to Spencer.
A large part of you thought that it would be best to have an out, in case he got embarrassed, or hated it. Most likely, you would wait until after dinner and hand him the bag on your way out without telling him what it was. Which was why you shoved the black plastic bag holding the lube and the sex toy into your oversized purse while Spencer was distracted with carrying the takeout bag toward his apartment.
One thing that had not surprised you about Spencer when you found it out: he didn’t have basic cable. Part of you was surprised that someone who was so pro-book and anti-technology even had a TV at all. But apparently he had some favorites that he couldn’t stand to miss out on, like Doctor Who and Star Wars. So he had a DVD player hooked up to a very small TV that was banished off to a corner of his living room. A device that was dwarfed by bookcases, which did make a lot of sense.
He said that he spent so much time reading and away at work, traveling for cases that it just didn’t make sense to pay for cable. He said that he could get his mental enrichment from reading, and his nerdy pleasure from rewatching his old favorites, and apparently he got the news from listening to the radio. The radio. Sometimes you wondered if he was Benjamin Button - an old man who had somehow gotten into the body of a twenty five year old. It truly mystified you.
Either way, it meant that you spent dinner with season three of Friends on as background noise. Friends being a box set of DVDs that you had gifted him because you considered it to be classic television that he needed to see. The first time he had asked Morgan to his face if a girl had ‘friendzoned’ him with full confidence in what the term meant, you knew that Spencer had been watching it in his free time.
You easily fell into the comfort of your surroundings, enjoying the comforting canned laughter of the show, paired with the delightfully greasy food and Spencer’s ongoing commentary - both about the show, and about other, completely unrelated things. You were so relaxed that you had almost completely forgotten about the gift you had waiting in your bag for him.
It was such a strange coincidence that he had been the one to bring it up.
He offered to take your plate into the kitchen, leaving behind a waft of soy sauce as he went. You were wonderfully full and reached to the small side table where you were nursing a half empty (now warm) diet coke. You took a few sips from it, and heard Spencer’s footsteps shuffling back into the room. He hovered behind you as you watched Monica rush out of her bedroom with her phone pressed to her chest, concerned about calling Richard.
You were so focused on the show that you almost didn’t hear Spencer’s shy, tentative voice when he spoke.
“I’m sorry about the other day.” He said quietly.
“Hmm?” You looked over your shoulder at him, wondering what he meant.
He was rather nervously fidgeting with his hands, standing in the white glow of the TV in the dimly lit room - the only other source of light being a small lamp on the side table and dimness of the light above the stove shining in from the kitchen at his back.
You grabbed up the remote and paused the show, silencing the characters and their temporary problems in order to address the stress that Spencer was very clearly feeling - his whole body tight, hunched over, his face quite tight with worry.
“I’m sorry about the other day.” He repeated himself, slightly louder this time - perhaps not more confident, but simply not drowned out by any further noise.
You didn’t want to butt in, and gave him the room to explain himself slowly.
“I - I didn’t mean to put you in such an… uncomfortable position. If I don’t understand the things you say, I should just pull you aside and ask you privately what you meant.” He sighed. “I - I know that I need to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes. It’s something I’m working on.”
You became flooded with peril at this. Had he really thought that he had inconvenienced you? Put you in an ‘uncomfortable’ position?
“Come sit down.” You told him, beginning to feel annoyed with craning your neck back to get a proper look at him.
Like a dog being beckoned, he couldn’t help but to follow your order.
He sunk down against the other arm of the three seater couch, leaving quite a bit of space between the two of you. He had his arms folded - closed off, clearly nervous. His eyes were focused on the leg of his pants, distinctly refusing to look at you. Perhaps he was afraid he would find disgust or disappointment among your features. You turned off the TV completely then and angled your body to face him before you continued speaking.
“First of all, you don’t need to learn to keep your mouth shut.” You told him easily. “I’m not sure who, or what gave you that impression, but it’s not true. Whenever you open your mouth, something brilliant comes out, and we’re all better for it.”
Reid’s lips flexed into a smile at the intense direct praise, and this made you happy.
“Second, you didn’t make me uncomfortable the other day.” You told him honestly. “I meant what I said - despite you being a genius, there are still some things you need to learn. And I’m more than happy to teach you.”
These words sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine.
There were so many things that he would beg for you to teach him if given the chance. But he didn’t want to embarrass himself. And most importantly, he didn’t want to come off as creepy or desperate toward someone as perfect as you.
When he dared to glance up at you, you were boldly staring him down. You wore a small smirk across your face. Heat began to stir in Spencer’s gut, and he couldn’t help but to wonder if you were thinking the exact same things that he was.
You couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly want someone like him. You couldn’t possibly want a nervous, inexperienced ‘virgin’ like him.
Oh, but you did.
You were thinking all of the same things that he was. You were imagining giving him the most intricate ‘hands on’ lessons for everything he had ever been curious about. Giving him the most close-up, detailed tour of the female anatomy he ever could have asked for.
“Spencer,” You called out his name gently.
This forced his attention up from fiddling with a loose thread on the edge of the couch cushion - clearly something out of nervousness - and got him to look at your face. You wondered how someone who was six feet tall could look so delicately small, purposefully slumped over in his seat like that. You wondered what his pretty features would look like warped by an orgasm.
“What are you thinking about right now?” You asked him. You had to know if he was truly on the same filthy wavelength as you.
He knew he had to make up a lie. Because he wouldn’t be brave enough to speak the words out loud. He was too shy to actually tell you that he was wondering what it would be like to bury his face between your breasts, that he wanted to drown there.
“You… you did get me curious.” Spencer admitted quietly. “About the… the - uh-”
He trailed off, clearly too nervous to say the word for himself now that he knew the filthy implications behind it.
“About the fleshlight?” You finished the sentence for him, wanting to encourage him.
You wanted to make him feel brave about the topic. You were too curious about where this interaction was heading - you couldn’t bear to have him get shy on you now.
“Yeah.” He nodded, nervously clearing his throat.
He went back to fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion, once again purposefully looking anywhere but at your face. You stared him down with purpose, all too intrigued by whatever might come out of his mouth next. Especially with the tense, thoughtful expression dipped along his eyebrows - the same one he got when he was reading or staring at maps.
“I was thinking - I was curious - curious about - about where someone might get one of those.” He finally announced.
He put intense stress on the word ‘where’ - his voice low, almost a lulling whisper in the already quiet apartment. He was speaking as though he was asking you about something incredibly illicit. Like a college kid asking where he could buy weed or a lonely man in his thirties inquiring about a prostitute. Though sex toys were perfectly legal, you guessed that for someone like Spencer, this was just as trepidacious.
You felt a sense of eager giddiness stir within you. You resisted the urge to bounce on the spot like an excitable, hyper kid on their birthday waiting to open their present. Even though he wasn’t looking at your face, you forced yourself to hold back a grin.
You didn’t want to ruin the surprise, after all. It was just too perfect.
“Well… lucky for you, Doctor Reid,” You told him, easily capturing his attention with the use of his proper title and the fact that you shifted slightly in your seat, reaching down by your feet to grab your bag. “I happen to have a spare one right here.”
Spencer watched you cautiously, his neck still sloped with anxious shyness. He almost had to believe that this was a prank, and you would pull a tape recorder out of your bag and laugh because you had captured his perversion for everyone to know about.
But of course - you weren’t that cruel. You were honest, and you were definitely not half as shy as he was. In fact, he would go so far as to say that you didn’t have a bashful bone in your body.
So of course, it made sense that it was not a big deal for you to walk into one of those stores and simply purchase that kind of toy.
Spencer watched eagerly as you pulled out a cardboard box. He heard the rustle of plastic inside your bag and guessed that it was a shopping bag. But he couldn’t be too focused on that once your arm extended out to him, showing him what the rectangular box was.
Spencer had never seen a sex toy in person before, but he quickly realized that they were packaged similarly to any other product. A clean, white background with a picture of the product on it, several claims and promises (‘new and improved design!’) (‘easy to clean!’) (‘soft and durable!’) - and a picture of someone smiling on the front, unconsciously promising a good user experience. In this case, it was a stereotypically beautiful woman in lingerie holding the… item, as though it were comparable… to her… to her parts.
“Open it.” You encouraged him, wagging the box in his direction. “Unless you don’t want it. I could return it.”
It was then that Spencer realized he had been sitting with his hands numbly in his lap for several silent moments, staring at the box in your extended hand.
“Oh!” He said quietly. “No! I mean - yes. I - um.” Rather than trying to articulate it, he reached out and grabbed the item, finding it surprisingly heavy. It easily compared to the weight of a good book in his hands. “Thank you.”
You would be lying if you said that watching him inspect the sex toy as though it were an object from an alien planet wasn’t the hottest thing you had seen in your entire life. Doctor Reid approached this the same way that he approached everything else in life: with intense scrutiny. Clearly his analytical mind was working hard as he carefully peeled back the cardboard flap of the box and slid out his prize.
You had to wonder if that mind of his ever shut off.
You wondered if you could make him dumb and cum drunk, make his head completely empty. You wondered what he would look like mindlessly chasing an orgasm, begging for release with absolutely no statistics or scientific papers running around inside that big brain of his. You wanted to see him completely worn down, just his base instincts at play. You wanted to see him with just the need to fuck and cum and have his release pounding between his ears as he whined desperately for more.
There was a sharp pain between your legs, intense arousal at the thought of it.
That arousal only increased when Spencer dropped the box in his lap and then - like man walking on the moon for the first time - he held the toy delicately in one hand and popped the cap off with the other. Clearly, it was a big discovery for him. Watching his eyes widen with shock did bring you an intense joy. It also immediately made you wonder if seeing the silicone pussy was his first time seeing a pussy so up close and personal at all. That thought only made your own cunt throb with need.
What he did next nearly sent you into orbit.
He gently placed the cap down on his lap, and without looking at you, his thoughtful eyes still entirely focused on the fake pussy - he reached toward it and oh-so-gently stroked his fingers across it. From your perspective, with the angle he was holding it at, you had a perfect view of his gorgeous hand delicately exploring the toy. Your cunt fluttered, clenching around nothing, and you knew that at this point you were definitely sitting in soaked underwear. If you didn’t know Spencer any better, you would have guessed that he was doing this on purpose, to tease you.
But that’s what made it so perfect - he was just naive, just exploring these things for the first time.
When he dipped two of his fingertips into the opening of the toy, you had to consciously hold back a moan. It was almost too hot watching his strong, thick fingers get swallowed up by the soft entrance of the toy. Of course, imagining how those fingers would feel dipping into your pussy with such tender grace.
“Wow.” Spencer said quietly, almost a gasp under his breath as he pulled his fingers back, in pure awe at this new discovery. “I didn’t expect it to be so soft.”
“It’ll feel even better when it’s wet.”
The words came so naturally from your lips, you couldn’t have stopped them if you tried.
Spencer looked up at you with a distinct pinkness spreading over his cheeks, clearly imagining that tight, soft wetness wrapped around his cock.
You dared to take a glance downward and surely enough - beside where the empty box was sitting in his lap, a bulge was forming in his slacks, pressing harshly against the zipper. You deeply resisted the urge to reach over and grope that bulge, not wanting to scare him by coming on too strong. Instead, you put that grabby hand back into your purse to get the other thing you had to give to him.
“Another lesson for the genius,” You announced, extending out the bottle of lube for him to see it. This time he was quicker to grab it, bringing it up to his face to inspect it with thoughtful eyes. “Water based lubricant is best. It’s water soluble, so it’s easy to clean up. And unlike other kinds, it won’t wear down the silicone of the toy over time or wear through the latex of condoms.”
You bringing up condoms caused a jolt in Spencer’s chest. Were you just giving him some friendly advice about safe sex or - or did you actually intend to have intercourse with him? Would there be a need for condoms between the two of you in the future?
The words gave him a temporary bold streak (that and the sexual adrenaline pumping through his system) and he decided to voice his thoughts before he became too shy.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked quietly, his voice taking on that sweet, mousy quality that it usually did whenever he got nervous.
“Of course.” You nodded.
You thought that he might have more questions about the lube or the toy. But what he said next - combined with the fact that he looked at you shyly through his lashes like a doll, like he knew exactly what he was doing - absolutely knocked the wind out of you.
“You… You said that you like teaching me things. So - do you think-?”
He paused for a moment, clearing his throat.
“Could - could you give me a demonstration?” He asked, his voice still shy and sweet.
Your lips gaped in shock - at first you thought you had misheard him. And when the words fully penetrated your ears, you thought that you had somehow misunderstood him. He couldn’t possibly mean-? He wanted you to use the toy on him?
You were shocked that Spencer Reid was openly asking for something like that.
Seeing the shock and slight confusion across your features, Spencer’s mouth raced past his better judgment. His lips plowed over that thing in the back of his brain nagging at him to shut up - and he kept on going.
“It only seems logical that, when tackling something new, especially something this… skill-based, I would need to be shown what to do.” He explained, his mouth running off in that way it always did when he sounded far too much like he knew what he was talking about. “It seems advisable to be shown by someone with more experience. Experience that I don’t have. I need you to show me. Please.”
The last word came out as a breathy plea from him. You could have easily gotten stuck on the fact that he had basically just admitted to you that he was a virgin. But instead, him simply saying that word: ‘please’, begging to you like your attention was the most precious thing in the world; it kickstarted something in your brain and switched on the dominant persona that you had always wanted to use with him.
The air shifted in the room then, and you both knew it. It was like a fire crackling around you. Spencer didn’t know what to do with it, but luckily, you did. He waited with anxious breath for your guidance, your instruction.
“You need me to show you?” You repeated his words, using the buttery sweet voice that you usually did when you had someone so willing and pliant for you.
Instinctively, you reached over to him and gently cupped his cheek. He easily leaned into the touch, shuddering with delight and letting out a small sigh as you made contact with his skin for the first time. It was the first time you had really touched him, aside from casual hugs of comfort after stressful situations that the job naturally gave the two of you. But this was entirely different.
He hummed in affirmation to answer your question, his eyes growing large with lust, pupils blown out as he melted into you.
“What do you want me to show you, pretty boy?” You asked, running your thumb along his bottom lip, admiring how absolutely pink his mouth was.
You hoped that you could prompt a genuine answer out of him - get him to say the words. You had never heard Spencer talk about anything crude before, and you wondered if he was even capable of talking dirty. You hoped that if he wouldn’t say the words on his own, you could coach him into doing it. You could only imagine the satisfaction of getting that smart mouth to utter such filthy things.
“I want…” Spencer swallowed harshly, clearly having a difficult time with his mouth drying out now that you had a hand on him, even though the touch was fairly ‘innocent’. “I want you to show me… everything.”
The intense emphasis that he put on the word sent sparks flying inside of you.
It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a ‘demonstration’ of the toy. It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a one night stand to get off.
Intense want flared up of you.
The temptation to own him, to make him yours… the temptation to take all of his first and have him tied to you like a lost puppy because of it - it was an intense one. But you wouldn’t hurt him, no. You would do it right. You would own him in that way because he wanted it just as badly as you did.
“Spencer,”
You said his name suddenly, harconing for his attention with it. You stroked your thumb along his cheek before you pulled the touch away completely. His head bobbed forward slightly to chase your hand, but he let you go without protest.
“If we’re going to do this, there has to be rules.” You told him firmly. “If I’m going to be your teacher, you have to listen to me. Teachers need rules, right?”
Spencer nodded vigorously at this.
“Of course. Yeah - yeah. You’re right.” He eagerly agreed. Then of course, he asked the obvious question. “What are the rules?”
You beamed a smile at him, loving his enthusiasm.
You knew that he would be a good boy. He was so eager to follow rules, to learn. Your body began tingling with delight at the thought of him looking up at you with hazy eyes, asking for his next command.
You had to forcibly clear your head. Right now you had to be level headed in order to teach him the rules.
“Okay the first rule - the most important one,” You prefaced, causing Spencer to straighten up slightly, showing his attentiveness, an eager student ready to learn. “Is that you need to pick a safeword. A word you can say during the scene so that I can know if you’re uncomfortable or if you need to stop.”
“‘The scene’?” Spencer asked, repeating back the phrase to you. “Also - why can’t the safeword just be ‘stop’, or ‘no’? Wouldn’t you just stop things if I said ‘no’?”
You decided to tackle his questions one at a time.
“Calling it a ‘scene’ - it’s lingo.” You said. “You know that everything comes with its own set of linguistics.” You told him, playing into his pre-existing knowledge. He nodded at this.
You then continued your explanation.
“A ‘scene’ means… any type of sexual play. Some people call it ‘playtime’. It’s lingo that exists because for a lot of people, sex is much more than just intercourse. It can start with speech and behavior and any interactions that they have with their partner when they’re alone. Like foreplay. So a safeword needs to be included in those moments too, in case someone needs to call timeout.”
Spencer nodded at this. It made him wish that he had developed a safeword with Lila Archer. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed the oral sex - but because to this day, he still shuddered at the possibility of being embarrassed by someone walking in on them, or the consequences if someone found out about the improprieties of it all.
“As far as the safeword being ‘no’, or ‘stop’...” You took the time to find the right words to explain it.
Spencer waited patiently, feeling curious about this.
“I will always look out for your safety, and if you seem uncomfortable, I’ll ask you if you’re okay.” You assured him, giving him a gentle pat on the knee. Spencer smiled at this, and you enjoyed that you had comforted him with these words.
“But sometimes ‘no’ doesn’t work.” You went on to explain. “Like… if I asked you something like ‘do you want me to stop?’ and you say ‘no’, that is a positive affirmation to continue what I’m doing, but it uses a negative word. Same thing with the word ‘stop’. If you told me ‘don’t stop’ - but your voice was too quiet on the first word or I didn’t properly hear you, then I may stop when you wouldn’t want me to.”
For the first time, Spencer felt as though he was the one being schooled.
You telling him ‘I may stop when you don’t want me to’ had him drawing an image up in his head of you vigorously riding him, taunting him while you were so well composed and he was reduced to a stuttering mess because of your wetness clenching around him. With you mistaking his words for a signal of distress, and taking away your beautiful body before he got to orgasm. It would be tragic.
He easily understood what you meant.
“The point of a safeword,” You continued on. “Is that it stands out. It’s a word you would never otherwise say during playtime. A word that would never come up during sex - except for you signaling your discomfort. So when I hear that word, I know that we need to shift gears into aftercare.”
“What’s aftercare?” Spencer asked, eager to learn another new term as it was introduced to him.
Again, you were puzzled about how to explain it, how to put it into words for someone who had no clue what the word meant.
These were things you had known about for years, words that were a natural part of your vocabulary now. Things you had been doing before you even knew the terms for it. It was strange having to explain it to someone so fresh.
“It - um…” You thought for a moment. “Aftercare is what happens after a scene. It’s the period of time when you mentally and physically wind down, in order to take care of your body and mind. Because of the physical exertion and the endorphins, sex can be exhausting and mentally tedious, as much as it is fun. So - aftercare helps transition the body and mind back into non-sexual activities. Different people need different kinds of aftercare, but usually it’s things like: drinking water, eating a snack, cuddling, words of affirmation.”
“That sounds nice.” Spencer said quietly. “Would you do that for me even - even though I’m not your boyfriend?”
You held back what you instinctively wanted to say - that you wanted him to be your boyfriend. That you wanted to own him like a cute little pet and didn’t want any other woman (or man) to touch him.
Instead, you went with the diplomatic answer.
“Of course I would.” You told him. “Aftercare is part of being a good - a good teacher.”
You quickly cut yourself off from using the word ‘dominant’ and replaced it with ‘teacher’ instead. You didn’t want to scare him with the idea that you would be intimidating, mean, cold - traditional ideas behind the term ‘dominant’.
“I want to be good to you, Spence.” You quickly added on.
His cock throbbed inside of his pants at this.
“So, you have to pick your safeword.” You told him. “Something that stands out, something that will easily come to your mind.”
Spencer took a moment, and you saw him take a sideways glance at the coffee table. The chess set that was there caught his eye, and that didn’t surprise you.
“Bishop?” Spencer posed, looking at you with eyes that said he was absolutely searching for your approval. “Is that good?”
“Yes, baby, that’s perfect.” You told him.
If you did your job well enough as a dominant, then he wouldn’t need to use the word.
You would be able to tell just by his body language and him voicing his enjoyment how far you should take things. And when he was comfortable enough, you would discuss other sexual acts, and what else you should try. Though, for tonight, you had a feeling you should take control without telling him too much of what you wanted to do. You didn’t need him getting shy on you just because of some dirty talk.
“You said that was only the first rule,” Spencer mentioned, remembering what you had said. “What are the other rules?”
“Well, the second rule is: you listen to me. You listen to everything I say. You do everything I say. You don’t question me.” You told him firmly. “Because I’m the teacher, I’m in charge.”
Spencer wanted to question you then. He wanted to point out that this sounded like multiple rules, but the way you said ‘I’m in charge’ caused something inside of him to quake, and he easily fell under your authority.
He nodded.
“The next rule is: you speak when spoken to, Spencer.” You told him, your tongue sharp on the words.
You were heavily enjoying ordering him around now.
These were two roles that the two of you fell so naturally into: he was soft and submissive under your dominant energy, and he only wanted more as your ego thrived off his eager submission. It was the start of a beautiful relationship forming.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” The title came flying out of his mouth before he could stop it, and then he instantly wanted to backpedal. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I like that.” You told him with a grin. “Though, if you want to give me a title, call me Miss.”
You held back from telling him the true title you desired. Again, not wanting to scare him away. Perhaps it was something you could ween him towards on another day.
“Yes, Miss.” He corrected, nodding. “Uh - Miss? Is - is there anything else?”
“Only two more things.” You told him. Of course, you didn’t want to overload him, but you wanted him to know your most important rules up front. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain. “You can’t touch me without asking first. And of course, you can’t touch me unless I give you permission.”
This news cast the saddest puppy look across his features. Clearly, he was deeply disappointed by the thought that he wouldn’t be able to grope and grab at your body freely. He was upset by the thought that you would deny him access to touching you. You could definitely use that if he ever misbehaved.
“And the last thing is: you can’t cum without my permission.” You told him, almost as if it were an afterthought. With any of your other partners, it would have been. Because it would have been a basic ground rule.
“Come where?” Spencer asked, his brows knit together in the most adorably confused manner you had seen yet.
Of course, he was confused. He had never before heard someone use the term ‘cum’ to refer to an orgasm. He was used to hearing that word - ‘come’ - paired with something else like ‘come here’. So he wondered what the hell you possibly meant by it.
You found yourself grinning like the cat who ate the canary as you realized that you would also have to explain this piece of slang to him.
“No, Spence, not C-O-M-E, like the verb. It’s C-U-M. It’s slang used interchangeably with the word ‘orgasm’.” You explained to him. “Sometimes it can be a verb. Like the act of cumming, it means orgasming. Or sometimes it’s a noun. Sometimes people use the word ‘cum’ instead of saying semen. ‘Cum’ is the fluid. As in: ‘I want your cum inside of me’.”
You intentionally teased him with this example, saying it as casually as a straight forward grammar lesson, looking him in the eyes the entire time. His eyes lit up at your words - obviously, he had no clue that such a simple sentence could turn him on so much. But the words immediately painted a picture in his mind of that white, sticky fluid dripping down your inner thighs, put there by him. It was so perfect that it almost made him dizzy.
When Spencer didn’t say anything, you continued with your ‘lesson’.
“When I said that you can’t cum without my permission, I meant that you can’t have an orgasm unless I say so.” You told him with finality.
He looked struck with worry at this. Partially at the idea that he wouldn’t get to have an orgasm if you didn’t give him permission, and partially at the thought that if he accidentally orgasmed without your permission, you would be angry with him and cut off all further sexual contact.
“What’s wrong, Spence?” You had to ask.
“How - how does that work?” He asked, all too curious at how he could stop himself from orgasming or how he could get your permission first.
“Well, you know what it feels like when you’re about to have an orgasm, right?” You asked, really hoping that he at least masturbated regularly. You didn’t think you could have the burden of giving him his first ever orgasm. He nodded and this and you felt a small breath of relief leave you. “So, when you feel like that, you simply ask me if you’re allowed to cum. Ask me if you can cum.”
“Will you let me?” Spencer asked nervously, sheepishly. You distinctly noticed how he avoided the word. He didn’t say the sentence as you had. You yearned to hear him say ‘will you let me cum?’ - but you knew you had to give him time to shake off his shyness.
“If you’ve been a good boy, then yes.” You told him. “Good boys follow the rules. But I don’t think you’ll have any problems, Spence.”
You saw him relax at this - any tension leaving his muscles.
You conveniently left out the part where you might edge him, might not let him cum just for your own amusement.
“I think that’s all for now.” You told him. “Now that we have the rules set - do you wanna play with your new toy?”
Spencer’s face absolutely lit up at this.
“Yes, please.” He said, his voice somehow still shy and quiet. “Yes, please, Miss.”
Your stomach jolted with intense pleasure at his declaration.
Spencer thought that you would simply grab the toy from him and unzip his pants. He was surprised when you stood up, and began looking around the room as though you were looking for something. But in alignment with the rules, he didn’t question you. He didn’t ask what you were looking for or why. Instead, he just sat there quietly and waited for your instructions.
When you seemed satisfied with your idea, you then began moving around. You leaned down and pushed away the coffee table, pushing it as far back as it would go. This made a fair amount of space in front of the couch. And before Spencer could become truly curious about it, you turned to the side of the room - toward a space where he had a small table.
It was meant to be a sort of ‘dining’ table, suitable for one or two people in an apartment like his. It had two chairs, but one of the chairs was piled up with books and the surface of the table had some files on it that he had taken home from work. He did sit on the other chair to eat occasionally - during the rare times he actually sat down and had a meal at home.
You grabbed the empty chair - which was a wooden chair with a round back and decorative wooden bars coming off the seat, holding the back of it up. (Something Spencer had picked up at a yard sale.) And then you put the chair in the middle of the room, right in the space you had cleared from moving the coffee table. The chair was facing the couch - and it became apparent to Spencer then that this was a stage.
You were either going to sit in that chair and watch him, or he was going to be the thing on display in the middle of the room. The idea of that happening - the idea of you watching him like a show, like he was something to admire - that put a twist in his stomach. It was something almost too daunting for him to conquer. He found himself swelling with shyness again, wanting to back down from this.
He feared that he wouldn’t be able to impress you. He feared that he was gangly, thin, undesirable. He feared that his experience would steer him wrong somewhere and he would mess up terribly and turn you off.
He thought that he wouldn’t be able to impress you.
But he wanted to impress you so badly. He wanted you. He wanted your touch. He wanted to be a good boy for you, like you had said.
“Give me your belt.” You said, turning to him expectantly and holding out your hand.
“My - my belt?” He asked.
Then, he immediately scolded himself inside as he realized that was questioning you, and against the rules.
You let that one slide. He was still getting used to this, and it must have been an odd, confusing instruction to hear right off the bat.
“Yes, your belt. I need it.” You said, still holding out your hand. “Come on.”
Spencer stood up then, his hands and legs shaking slightly from nerves and the overwhelming lust. Although he was taller than you, he felt so entirely small as you stared at him, waiting patiently while his shaking hands struggled to undo the buckle and then slip the leather out of the belt loops.
When he finally handed it over to you, you took the belt in hand and inspected it for a moment before you quietly said ‘perfect’ under your breath. You then looked between Spencer and the chair - he was still wearing his work attire. A cardigan, a button up shirt and tie, his usual slacks, and his adorable dorky glasses. He had taken off his shoes at the door, revealing his oddly sweet mismatched socks.
“Spencer,”
You called his name, capturing his attention from where he was swaying on the spot, nervously fidgeting with the buttons on his cardigan to avoid looking at you. As soon as he looked up at you with those big, wet eyes, you felt confident in giving him your next instruction.
“I want you to take off all your clothes. Except for your glasses and your socks.” You told him, giving him his first proper orders.
He held his voice in his throat when he felt the need to question you about it, to ask you why.
You wanted him to keep the glasses on because they brought an entirely dorky charm to him - you wanted to see if they would fog up when he became heated with lust. The socks? You thought they were cute, but it was mostly a test to see how closely he would follow the instructions. To test how well he would listen.
He did as he was told. He stripped off his sweater, and then his tie, and then his watch, leaving his wrists nice and bare for you. His fingers began to shake slightly as he descended on the buttons of his shirt - clearly, he was feeling nervous once again, so you decided to give him some encouragement.
“You’re being such a good boy, Spence.” You told him. “So good for me.”
He let out a quiet breath at the praise - a precursor to a moan. It was something that compelled him to strip faster, and gave him a small boost of courage when reaching for the zipper of his pants. After he unzipped them - his erection clearly fighting to be freed of the fabric - your mouth began watering at the sight as he reached for the waistband of his pants and his underwear all at once and slid them down.
A snake of surprising length popped out of his pants. His dick began bobbing around carelessly, smearing shiny precum all over his skin as he unhooked himself from the legs of his pants and put them aside.
You had to marvel at it.
You had never really thought about what Spencer might look like naked before. You had never allowed your mind to venture there. But now that you were seeing his cock: nine inches long, skinny and lean like he was, pale with a bright pink tip, sprouting from a thick thatch of dark pubic hair - it just made sense. He was tall and gangly, and so was his cock. It would be an impressive sword to impale yourself upon - but that would be for another day.
Spencer caught you staring, of course.
He had the urge to cover himself with his hands, and found himself clenching his fists by his sides because he figured that you wouldn’t like him trying to hide from you.
He wondered if it looked weird. He wondered if you didn’t like it. He wondered-
“You’re beautiful, Spencer.” You said, your voice so drenched in utter sincerity that you almost broke into a gasp trying to get the words out. “So fucking beautiful.”
Again, he wanted to question you - but didn’t. He wanted to be a good boy. He would follow the rules.
“Th-thank you, Miss.” He muttered out quietly, almost unable to accept the compliment.
“Come here, sit down.” You told him, motioning toward the chair.
He nodded, his legs feeling rather numb as he moved to follow your instructions. When his ass made contact with the wooden surface of the chair, he let out a gasp at how cool it was compared to his heated skin. You quietly giggled at this, and then grabbed the belt from where you had put it down. He grew tense and curious once again when you walked behind him.
You grabbed one of his wrists and began to guide it behind him, but he was so tense that you knew it would be uncomfortable for him. You eased your touch with a flat palm up his forearm and bicep, across his shoulder until you could press the weight of your thumb into the base of his neck. He moaned lightly at this, melting into the touch.
“Relax, baby.” You urged. Spencer relaxed even further at the nickname, absolutely blooming with affection inside because of it. “I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good.”
To drive home this point, you leaned in and planted a simple kiss on the back of his head, and then one on the side of his neck. Spencer let out a fluttering moan at this. He wanted more of those kisses, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask for it.
He could find no faults with what you had said, so he did his best to do as you instructed. He relaxed, leaning back fully against the chair - which was slightly uncomfortable while he was completely naked and throbbing hard, waiting for you to touch him more. But he trusted you.
You grabbed one of his wrists, and then the other, and guided them behind his back.
It was much easier now that his muscles were softer, more pliant to you.
You knelt down and used the belt to tie them simply. You looped the belt through the wooden slats so his hands would be held to the chair, and then placed both of his wrists into the loop. You didn’t want it to be so tight that the material would cut into his wrists painfully or cut off circulation, you just wanted to restrict his movement.
Which would absolutely be the case when his arms were bound behind him, awkwardly tied to the back of the chair. You hooked the buckle into the smallest notch, giving him a bit of room to move, a bit of a gap to put your finger between the belt and his skin. However, it put his shoulders at an awkward angle so he would need your help getting out of it.
“Is that okay?” You asked. “Not too tight? Be honest.”
Spencer thought that he should feel slightly afraid or too vulnerable - being completely naked and tied to a chair like this. But with you, he felt safe.
“It’s good.” He told you honestly. “Not too tight.” He assured you, moving to show off that wiggle room, demonstrating that the material wasn’t cutting into his wrists.
“Good,” You sighed quietly, standing up once again.
You walked around him like a predator circling their prey, making graceful, careful moments as you took in the sight of him.
He was absolutely, beautifully sinful in this state.
Stripped entirely naked, except for those glasses and those adorable, mismatched socks, sitting in the chair with his hands bound behind his back. All while he stared at you with his wide, expectant eyes, waiting for whatever your next move would be. While his heavy, hard cock leaked freely against his stomach, smearing a trail of sticky precum across his skin.
You reached forward and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up slightly to look at you. Having someone as tall as Spencer look up at you for a change was entirely powerful. You held him there while you asked him a very important question.
“You gonna be good for me?” You asked him.
Instinctively for him, there was only one answer.
“Yes.” He whimpered out. “Yes, Miss. I want to be good for you.”
The pure sincerity of his declaration caused another wave of wetness from your aching pussy. For now, you would ignore your own needs. You would take care of him, make sure that this was a pleasurable experience for him.
“Good boy,” You praised him, giving him a light kiss on the forehead - to which he sighed quietly in delight.
Then, you let go of his face completely and turned to grab the item that had started this whole thing.
You were excited to finally use it on Spencer.
Spencer watched with awe and intrigue as you grabbed the toy and then the lube - you peeled off the plastic shrink wrap on the lube bottle with your teeth, and then popped the cap. And you turned so Spencer could see as you poured a generous amount of lube into the opening of the toy.
“Don’t be afraid to use too much lube,” You told him, being a proper teacher. “In my opinion, there’s no such thing as ‘too wet’. But ‘too dry’ can cause skin irritation from friction. Or tearing if you’re trying to insert something like fingers or a penetrative toy. Like a dildo. Adequate lubrication always reduces the risk of both those things,”
Spencer wanted to ask if there were other kinds of penetrative toys aside from dildos, but he figured that would be a question for another time.
“Yes, Miss.” He nodded in understanding, absorbing what you had told him.
You looked between the toy and his cock, and realized you might as well slick him up beforehand.
You took a step closer to him and put the thickness of the fleshlight between his thighs, propping it there while you quietly mumbled ‘hold this’ - which caused him to tense his thighs in order to keep it from falling. He became enraptured by the sight of the silicone pussy, lubed and wet as a real one would be. He was so distracted by the sight that he almost didn’t take in you pouring lube into your hand before you capped the bottle and put it aside.
“This is probably gonna be cold,” You warned him quietly before you used your lubed hand to take a hold of his cock.
It was. And he let out a harsh gasp - from the shock of the cold wetness, a sound that quickly turned into a strangled moan as you formed a loose grip around his cock and began spreading the wetness over him with purpose. The lube soon warmed between your palm and the throbbing skin of his cock, and he unconsciously bucked into your touch, almost knocking the fleshlight out from resting between his thighs.
“Stay still.” You ordered sharply, shoving his hips back down with your free hand.
The harshness behind your voice, and your thumb pressing into his hip bone sent him reeling. He was so pliant under your touch. Between your commanding authority and the slickness of your lubed hand moving in a slow rhythm in lazy pumps up and down his cock - he was already way too fucking close.
You knew it. You could see the way his stomach muscles quaked, the tensing of his thighs. Those little lilting gasps like music to your ears.
You wondered if he would spurt cum all over your hand before he warned you. (If he did, you would likely pump him through it just to see if he would get hard again.)
“Miss-!” He hollered, choking on the word.
You abruptly stopped then. You stiffened your grip around the base of his cock - which was now nicely lubed up, and throbbing even harder as you effectively used your fingers around his pelvis like a cockring, causing his orgasm to fade dully back into his muscles. He let out a wounded sound, a confused moan from deep in his chest, his stomach shaking even harder as if he was trying to force the orgasm out past your gatekeeping touch. It was almost cute.
“Yes, Spencer?” You asked, looking at him dumbly as though you had no clue what he had been trying to say.
“I - I was getting close.” He completed the thought breathlessly. “C-close to orgasm.”
Damn. If he was this fucked out now, you couldn’t wait to see what he would be like when you were done with him.
“Well, good boys only cum with permission, right?” You said, grinning at him fiendishly.
“Yes, Miss.” He said quickly, his voice dull with disappointment, but agreeable.
“Good boy.” You praised once again. You felt his cock twitch in your hand at the words. “Besides, you haven’t even gotten a chance to try out your new toy yet.”
You then grabbed up the toy and turned it over, using your hand on the base of his cock to feed his length into the fake pussy. More cool lube came rushing down to meet him, and his lungs shook once again and his heated skin was shocked by the feeling. It was strange, but pleasurable as his cock was enveloped by the soft, wet walls of the toy. It was so, so very tight around his cock - and oddly cool, far wetter than he had expected thanks to the amount of lube you had used.
Spencer reasoned that it might be like sticking his cock in a watermelon, if that watermelon were also made of rubber bands.
You knelt down in front of Spencer, looking in awe between the spot where his cock disappeared into the fake leaking pussy to his face. Seeing his reaction to this was utterly beautiful - the way his jaw naturally fell open, his eyes half closed as the pleasure overtook him.
“Oh!” Spencer let out a sudden, high startled sound as you shoved the toy down onto his cock fully.
Your eyes once again flickered between his dick and his face, and you came to an utterly stunning realization.
He didn’t fully fit inside of the toy.
There was about an inch of his cock that was still sticking out of it at the base, and with the resistance your hand had brought up into, you knew that he was fully seated inside of it. Well - as fully seated as he could get, apparently.
It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen, and it sent a dizzying wave of endorphins through you. The sight of his cock not fully fitting into the silicone pussy was a stunning visual that made you realize just how deep he would go inside of you. It made your throat dry for a moment, forced you to swallow hard before you could speak.
“You’re right here, baby?” You asked, tapping a finger on the top of the toy, knowing that he would feel it as a vibration through the plastic.
He let out a gasp and bucked his hips up slightly, something that made you smile. He was too hazy to answer you already, something that you forgave for now. He was just too beautiful to scold in these moments.
“Fuck, you don’t even fit into this thing all the way, do you?” You gasped quietly, still absolutely marveling at the sight.
“I don’t?” Spencer gaped, finally looking down to where the toy was swallowing his cock, seeing as your words had captured his attention. “Is - is that bad?”
He was struck with worry. He thought that perhaps his cock wasn’t right - that he shouldn’t be doing this, that you wouldn’t like him.
It was in that moment that you realized what a treasure you had come across. A beautiful, intelligent man with a huge cock who had no idea how to use it. Someone who needed to be taught from scratch. Someone who could be molded into anything you wanted him to be. (At least in the sexual sense.) That, and he seemed to be naturally submissive and derive pleasure from following your orders.
You most definitely weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.
“No, baby, that’s a good thing.” You assured him. “That’s a great thing.”
Spencer smiled at this - an expression that slacked off into a moan when you made your next move.
You gave the toy a slow half-pump before you seated it on his cock again, seemingly knocking the wind out of them. Then, you let go of the toy completely, letting him sit there with the fleshlight on his cock, bobbing in mid-air. It began to rise up slightly as the tightness of it hugged his cock, and unconsciously, he bucked up his hips, seeking more friction. But of course - the object was simply hanging there, seated on his cock, unmoving. It was an entirely fruitless venture.
With his hands tied behind his back, he needed you. It was an adorable struggle to watch for a moment, especially when his face knit with frustration and his thighs began to quiver from the effort.
“Please,” He begged. He was so pretty when he begged. “Help me.”
“You want me to help you fuck your toy?” You teased, reaching for it again.
“Please, Miss.”
When he whined like that, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him.
You took a good grip on the plastic then, and began a quick, smooth rhythm. You were eager to see his reaction to being fucked well, being fucked without hesitation.
Spencer immediately shuddered and began letting out harsh whimpers. He bit his lip, but it didn’t keep the sounds from wailing out of his throat as you pumped the toy up and down on his cock.
His chin was tilted down onto his chest, keeping his eyes locked on the place where the toy was devouring his hard cock. This caused his glasses to slip down his nose bridge slightly, something so entirely adorable to you in the moment. With his thighs tense and his stomach quaking, with that pool of artificial wetness leaking onto his pubes and slowly creeping down over his balls - he was so beautifully fucked out, the most perfect picture you had ever seen in your life.
“Oh - oh, oh, oh god!” His mouth fell open once again and an array of sounds fell out, a beautiful little choir that you could have only dreamed of coming from him. “Oh, please!”
You had to wonder if he was the type of person to swear when he came. Spencer was never the type of person to swear during other extreme situations. You had never seen him let out a single curse, not even with a gun to his head.
You had to wonder if you could be the one to make him swear.
“Please, Miss!” He squeaked out, sounding entirely wrecked and desperate. “Please, I’m close-!”
You couldn’t resist the temptation of stilling the toy completely, abruptly cutting off his orgasm once again. Spencer let out a broken sound as his muscles jolted and the feeling ebbed through him - so close, but not quite there. It was like a terrible ache in his muscles. Like a deep, terrible thirst with nothing to drink.
“Please,” He begged, his eyes shooting to lock onto you. “Please! Please, Miss.”
“Please, what, baby?” You teased him, reaching up and gently carding your fingers through his hair, brushing some of it off his forehead. He had a light sheen of sweat going, his body clearly strained. It was delightful to witness.
“Please,” He rasped out brokenly, so entirely desperate. “I - I need it.”
You bit your lip, holding back laughter at how perfect this was.
“Need what, baby?” You continued to tease him. “Come on, use your words.”
He swallowed hard, and stared at you with glassy desperation in his eyes. Either he was shy, or had no clue what exactly it was you wanted him to say - so you decided to guide him along.
“Say: I need to cum.” You told him, hoping that he was desperate enough now that he would simply repeat the filthy words.
“I - I need to cum.” He repeated, only mild hesitation on his lips.
“Say: I need you to make me cum.” You told him, pushing it a bit father.
“I need you,” He said, pausing slightly to catch his breath. “Need you to make me cum.”
“Good boy.” You praised him, running his hand through your hair once again.
You stood up this time, and put one hand on the back of the chair behind his shoulder for leverage, leaning over him as you took the toy in hand and started moving it once again. This gave him a perfect view down your top, and his lustful gaze locked onto your swaying cleavage as you worked on jacking the fake pussy on his cock. It was a maddening suction that had him grunting lowly with every thrust, letting out whines, flexing his hips to fuck his cock up into the toy.
“Does it feel good, pretty boy?” You asked, so heavily enjoying the sight of him so messy, so wrecked.
“Yes!” He easily replied.
“What are you thinking about? Hmm?” You couldn’t help but to ask.
“I - hnng - I - I don’t know!” He gaped.
Either he was lying, and simply didn’t want to tell you what was on his mind, or you had truly fucked his head empty. If it was the second, then you would heavily enjoy that fact.
“You don’t know?” You asked, your voice absolutely teasing once again. “Well, that’s a first.” You chuckled.
Spencer panted harshly, filling the space for a moment - along with the wet squelching of the toy moving up and down on his cock as your wrist continued to work. And then you became bold enough to ask the question that you truly wanted to.
“You thinkin’ about my pussy?” You prodded. “You imagining that this toy is me? Wondering what’s gonna be like when I finally sit on your cock?”
“Yes!” He was suddenly very eager to admit to this. Clearly it helped that he didn’t have to say the words for himself. “Yes! Yes, Miss! I want you. I want your-”
He cut himself off suddenly, moaning sharply as the tip of his cock brought up in the end of the fake pussy once again. It sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through him that had his skin boiling even hotter. You wondered if he would be bold enough to say the word ‘pussy’ or if you would have to heavily prompt him.
But that thought left your head completely with his next words.
“Oh! Oh, please! I’m so close!”
Again, feeling the devil rise up inside of you, you stopped off his orgasm.
This time, by pulling the toy away completely. You lifted the fleshlight off his cock, and watched with lustful joy as his cock slipped out of the opening with a wet pop. His thighs quaked with bitter agony and his long cock bobbed in the air, dripping thick waves of precum and lube as it separated from the toy.
Everything was so wet.
It was honestly a gorgeous sight, like a mini tidal wave dripping down onto the chair as the toy continued to leak the generous amount of lube you had put into it and his cock let out pathetic little spurts of precum. His pubes were glossy and matted together, his inner thighs were absolutely slick. He was glistening and whining harshly as the ruined orgasm crashed through his body, making his mind somehow even hazier and more desperate.
“God!” He choked out. “Please!”
He blinked harshly and a few tears escaped the corners of his eyes, making him look even more gorgeous somehow.
“Please - please! I need - I need - oh god!” He began sobbing nonsensically, begging you for release as he was practically on the verge of madness.
Your cunt throbbed at seeing him so wrecked - so utterly dependent on you.
“Hey, hey, shh.” You reached your free hand out and thumbed under the edge of his glasses - the thick lenses only magnifying his glassy eyes and lustful, broken tears all the more. You soothed your touch across his burning cheek, reassuring him. “You’ve been such a good boy. I’m gonna let you cum now. Okay?”
“Please!” He sobbed.
Hearing his voice so broken and needy probably shouldn’t have turned you on so much, but you absolutely loved it.
“Hey, shh,” You continued to rub his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “I just need one thing from you first.”
“Anything!” He easily declared.
“I need you to say: ‘may I cum, please?’” You told him.
It was a start on the scale of filthy things that you wanted to hear from his mouth, but it would definitely be oh so satisfying.
And then - as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, he blinked his big eyes and looked up at you through tear wet lashes, giving you the most pouty, fuckable look as he leaned into your hand before he said the words.
“May I cum, please?” He asked. And then, like the wet dream that he was, he seamlessly added on. “Please, Miss. I-I’ve been a good boy.”
“Yes, you have been.” You told him. “I’ll make you cum now baby.”
You used both hands to get his cock back inside of the toy - the sound of his cock fucking back into the fake pussy was so much wetter, the whine he let out made your knees weak.
You doubled your efforts now, even going so far as to squeeze your grip on the outside of the plastic - which made the silicone grip his cock just that little bit tighter as you slammed it up and down on him. Your movements were hard and fast in the effort to make him cum for certain this time.
“Oh, oh, oh, you - oh!” Spencer began babbling nonsense, his words barely broken up by harsh breaths being sucked into his lungs and whimpers emanating from his throat at the intense pleasure. “Oh, Miss - you - you’re so - ah!”
“Where’s that big IQ now, boy genius?” You taunted him, keeping up the brutal pace. “Did I make you all stupid? Did I melt your big brain? Huh?”
Spencer all but confirmed this as truth when he gurgled out nothingness as a response.
You felt slightly bolder, and you became slightly harsher in your degrading words. You almost couldn’t help yourself. You loved tearing him apart so much, having him melt under your touch. You couldn’t help but to brag about the amazing job you had done.
“Just a dumb little baby now, aren’t you?” You cooed, your voice entirely condescending. “Just a stupid little boy for me. So cumdrunk you can’t even think now, huh? There’s no boy genius here now. Just a dumb baby who needs to cum.”
He only inflated your ego with his next words.
“Yes!” He shouted out, entirely confirming what you had said - if he had even properly heard it through the blood pumping in his ears. To him, it might have just been the raw hum of your voice in the background, like an undertone with no true words to it. “Yes! Need - need t’ cum!”
It was the most incoherent you had ever known Doctor Spencer Reid to be.
You stared on eagerly as you watched his stomach tighten up, his lungs struggling for breath.
“Y/N-!” He gasped out your name right before it hit him.
And when it hit him, when he finally tumbled over the edge into the abyss - boy, it was a big one.
It was an intense, full body orgasm. His legs shook, his body arched off the chair as though he were having a seizure, actually putting a strain on his bonded arms for the first time. He wildly bucked up into the toy as you continued to work it over his cock, his mouth dropping open wildly as a strain of high pitched, needy whimpers poured out from between his pretty pink lips.
You were feeling selfish, and you wanted to see him cum at least a bit.
So knowing that he was riding the wave, you ripped the toy off him, causing a wounded noise to come out of him as his spurting cock fell from it. But you didn’t leave him hanging. You immediately replaced the toy with your hand, and put a tight grip around him, pumping viciously over his throbbing cock, wanting to milk the rest of the orgasm out of him by hand.
The sudden, shocking overstimulation sent his body into overdrive.
His thighs shook so hard it could have been mistaken for electrocution, he gasped like a drowning man - he would have begged for mercy, but he couldn’t catch his breath.
It was the best feeling he had ever experienced. It was pure euphoria, it was heaven on earth. It was an icy hot fire running through his veins that he didn’t even know was possible.
He had never experienced an orgasm like this before. He knew the feeling of an orgasm to be more like a dull tickle in his groin. But now that he had done this - he didn’t think he could go back to anything else.
Large spurts of cum blasted from his cock, so overpowering then that painted his stomach, his chest, and much to your delight - a few thick white spurts even dirtied his glasses when you angled his cock that way and kept viciously pumping him.
His cock was so hot that it felt like it could have burned your hand, so needy and bloated with blood from how long you had edged him. Eventually, when the tip of his cock began to weep out a pathetic clear liquid, and he was on the verge of sobbing once more, you let him go from your grip, finally giving him a moment to breathe.
You knew for certain that you would never be able to look at Spencer Reid again without seeing this imagery: him, completely fucked out, his face flushed red, mouth agape as he struggled for breath. His naked body, limp cock laying against his pelvis, painted in his own cum - including dirtying up his own glasses.
You loved those glasses even more now.
You couldn’t get him to swear - but fuck, that was really something.
“Thank you.” He said meekly, still struggling for breath. “Th-thank you, Miss.”
“Good boy.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Such a good boy for me.”
Now, it was time to take care of him and make sure that he had a good come down.
You put the toy on the coffee table, placing it with the opening up so it wouldn’t leak everywhere - you wouldn’t clean it later. You also took off his glasses and placed them aside. Again - you would clean them later.
You rushed to untie his hands, and eased his arms back around his body by gently rubbing his shoulders, hoping that the muscles wouldn’t be too sore or stiff from being in the same position for so long.
“Such a good boy.” You assured him. “You did so well for me honey.”
He hummed in acknowledgement. Clearly, he was absolutely exhausted from the ordeal. You hoped you could get his tall, gangly self to his bed on your own if he was so fucked out and weak. You walked back around to his front and laid your lips on his forehead again, murmuring more praises against his skin as you continued to rub his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. You told him how good he was, how perfect he had been for you, how beautiful he was.
After a few minutes, you felt his hands on your hips as he came out of the haze. He ran a thumb along the waistband of your pants, and his first words after that haze surprised you.
“What - what about you?” He asked.
Clearly, he meant that you should have an orgasm. Your cunt was aching dully between your thighs, and you were sure that you had soaked through your underwear. But that had been a lot for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him during the first time.
“That’ll be a lesson for next time.” You told him quietly. He hummed quietly at this. He felt assured by you simply saying ‘next time’. “I have to clean up your toy now, so you can use it again later. Then I’ll clean you up and tuck you into bed, okay, baby?”
He nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.”
You hesitantly broke away from him and grabbed the toy, and as you moved to leave the room, you paused at him mumbling out more words.
“Can - can I have a glass of water, please?” He asked quietly.
“Of course you can, baby.”
You went into the kitchen and ran the toy under hot water - which you left going as you got a glass and filled it with cold water and ice from the dispenser. You were lucky to find a straw in the takeout bag from earlier - you put it in the glass and, while the hot water was still running in the sink, you rushed out to give Spencer a drink.
You held the glass while he chugged gratefully from it, and after a few moments, you ensured that he could hold it with his sex tired hands by himself and then you left to finish cleaning up the toy. You set it on his empty dish rack to drip dry (which was quite a sight). And then you went to the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to wipe him down. He was only slightly unsteady on his legs as you guided him to bed - his muscles shaking and tired after the whole amazing ordeal.
You found it endearing that his bed was unmade, surrounded by stacks of books that were lined up on the floor, rather than on any shelf.
You pulled back the covers completely and helped him get in, and you were tucking him in nicely when he asked the sweet question.
“Will you cuddle with me?” He asked quietly, looking up at you with those adorable, expectant eyes once again. “You know, for - for the aftercare?”
You likely would have done it simply because he asked, even if you didn’t deem it ‘necessary’ for aftercare. But because he asked, it was part of good care.
“Of course.” You answered. “I don’t have any pjs, so do you mind if I sleep in my underwear?”
You had just tucked him into bed naked, and he was asking you to lay down beside him like that. But still, you wanted to ask how comfortable he would be if you were in a state of undress.
His eyes shined with interest at the idea of seeing you at least partially undressed.
“I don’t mind.” He told you.
You nodded, and stepped back slightly to begin undressing.
“So - did you have fun?” You asked. You suspected that he had entirely enjoyed himself, but you did want to hear him say it.
Spencer grinned at this. “I think what we just did has changed my definition of ‘fun’ entirely.” He told you. “In a good way. So you know.”
You preened at the idea that you had shifted Spencer’s worldview. Someone who most likely spent his free time reading research papers and playing through chess games entirely on his own and called it ‘fun’ would now be thinking about spending his free time playing with you instead.
You stripped out of your pants, socks, and work blouse, which left you in your simple cotton underwear, a thin cotton camisole and your bra underneath. You decided to take off your bra underneath your shirt and just sleep in the cami and panties for comfort. You knew your underwear was stuck to your cunt from your previous burning arousal, and Spencer’s eyes did focus hard on that, and then focused even harder on the outline of your bare breasts as you ditched your bra off to the side.
If he had the ability to get hard again after that spectacular orgasm, he probably would have been throbbing at the sight of you.
You lifted up the covers and crawled into bed with him, cuddling into his side as he tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your stomach fluttered when he kissed the top of your head before you felt his body relax into the mattress.
“Thank you.” He said quietly, clearly exhausted. “I love it when you teach me things.”
...
The sequel to this fic has now been posted!
Keep Reading Here: Lesson Two - Magic Metacarpals
#sundrop writes#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#sub!spencer#sub!spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds
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Art by Shuploc
Pairing: knight! Miguel x princess!reader
Warnings: some fluff, some angst, no use of y/n
Summary: You were the princess of your kingdom, and Miguel was a knight. What first started off with innocent glances and little gifts turned into something more. However, with the roles you to play in society, your love for each other has an expiration.
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: I have been thinking about making this into a series or something based on this fic. Let me know if anyone is interested in that. Thank you to the anon who requested this! You guys have really been helping me write. I am still working on my other requests. Sorry if I have been slow in writing. It's that time of year when it's just so busy. If you would like to be tagged in any of my fics let me know. Or, you can simply turn on your notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. Also, this hasn't been edited so apologies for any grammatical errors.
Check out my masterlist for more of my stuff
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At first, it was innocent glances. Peeking through lashes before looking away shyly, hiding behind your fan as to not meet his gaze. However, it proved to be a challenge when you had caught his interest.
Soon enough, you started receiving little gifts. It never was addressed to whom it was from, but you knew they were from him.
The gifts and stolen glances continued for weeks until one day, the knight decided to approach you.
You never had him so close to you before, and while you knew he was rather tall, you didn’t know he was that tall! The way he towered over you sort of intimidated you, however, your uneasiness faltered when he gave you a gentle smile and bowed to you.
You gave him a gentle smile back, however, not uttering a word to him. He didn’t mind, though. He still took the time to glance your way.
Encounters such as these became more common, and it had gotten to the point where Miguel would actually escort you to places. Wherever it was you wanted to go. You always asked for him, if he was available, and when he was, he would always say yes.
He would always stay two paces behind you, even if he had to walk slower. While you didn’t talk to each other much, he would still greet you, calling you ‘princesa’. You didn’t know why, but you always felt butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him speak. His voice was so smooth, like butter, a bit husky at times, but still a voice that you would love to listen to every single day.
It would be a couple weeks later that you both began to hold conversation. It would be during one of your afternoon walks around the castle gardens. Miguel began the conversation, talking about the flowers as you both passed by them, and tell you how they reminded him of his late mother. You also learned that day that his younger brother was currently in training to become a full fledged knight. You could hear the pride in his voice.
A couple months had then passed. Winter had arrived. And that was the first time he stole a kiss from you from behind a tree trunk. While it wasn’t the first kiss you’ve had, it was the first time you felt sparks. The first time you felt something. Something igniting inside of you. You knew you weren’t going to be able to shake him off of you.
And, that wasn’t a good thing.
Still, neither of you could help yourselves. You both had grown closer, shared secrets, told each other stories of one another. Miguel had not only become someone whom you snuck glances and kisses with, he had become your friend.
And, you wish you could become something more.
“There is something on your mind princesa. What is it that is troubling you?” Miguel asked as the two of you strolled through the kingdom. As always, he kept two paces behind you.
You simply shook your head, shaking away the thoughts that plagued your mind. Glancing over at him, you gave Miguel a warm smile.
“It’s nothing. Really,” you assured him.
He could tell you were lying, however, he didn’t dare question you.
As the seasons changed and time went by and the two of you continued to grow and change, so did your feelings for each other.
No longer were they stolen kisses or innocent strolls through the kingdom, but, there were also more intimate moments as well.
Whether at the horses’ stable, somewhere hidden in the gardens, or even in your private chambers, you two shared intimate moments.
Your relationship had to be kept secret, of course. Miguel was simply a knight- while a very high ranking one, his duty was to protect the kingdom and the crown. And you were the kingdom’s princess, and the one who will eventually be wearing the crown Miguel had sworn to protect.
“I hear that your father will be hosting a ball within the coming months,” Miguel commented as the two of you laid naked in his bed, limbs tangled together.
You simply let out a hum, not really wanting to think about it. Your father was hosting a ball in an attempt to get all of the eligible princes and the like to meet you. You knew the time would eventually come, in which you would have to look for a husband to marry. You were to become queen of your kingdom, and you were to have a crowned prince and bear heirs.
However, you didn’t want to marry any one of those men who will be attending that ball. You wanted to be with Miguel.
Miguel turned to look at you, his hand gently gripping your chin so you’d turn to meet his gaze.
“There is something on your mind, princesa. I wish you would let me in.”
Letting out a sigh, you nodded your head. “Y-yes. Yes there is. I just. It’s about the ball. It’s my father’s attempt to find someone for me to marry.”
You glanced over at him, trying to read his expression. Miguel was good at hiding his feelings and keeping a stoic expression. He was a trained knight, after all. And one of the best.
“Of course. It is time for you to start thinking about marriage. It is your duty as princess to not only become ruler to our kingdom, but to have a crowned prince at your side and have heirs.”
You frowned at his words. You knew that. But, you didn’t want to.
“And..what will happen..to us?” You then questioned.
You didn’t want to end what you had with Miguel. He had not only become a good friend, but an amazing lover.
And, you had fallen in love with him. But, you didn’t know whether to tell him or not. Of course, it was best if you didn’t. It would only end up breaking you even more if you admitted your feelings to him. Besides, you were sure Miguel didn’t feel the same way, right? You were the princess. Any man would’ve been lucky to have gotten with you. At least, that’s what you assumed.
You were not aware that Miguel had indeed developed feelings for you, and that he was determined to keep them hidden from you. There was no need for the unnecessary heartbreak. However, watching you leave him was going to be heartbreaking enough as it is. It was best for him to take this love that he had for you and take it to the grave with him. You would forget him in due time. Miguel would most likely perish in war, and you would live the rest of your days ruling a kingdom and raising your heirs alongside your husband.
“I don’t know..”Miguel finally answered after a moment of silence clouded the room.
“We would most likely simply go back to how things were before.”
“But, I don’t want that,” you stated, sitting up slightly, covering your bosom with his covers.
“It isn’t about what you want, princesa. It’s about what your duty as princess and future queen holds. There was never meant to be anything between us. You and I must both be aware of that. We can keep whatever we have going on for only so long. After that…I will go back to being a mere presence that is ordered to protect you.”
You looked down at his hand that rested beside you, grabbing it. It was so much larger than yours. The skin was rough; a sign of wear from training and battle. It’s one of the things you loved about him. His battle scars decorated his body, and you don’t know why but, you loved feeling every curve of them.
“At the end of the day..none of this would’ve worked out. You and I both know that. Princesa, look at me,” Miguel sat up now, taking both of you hands in his.
“We can never work out. You and I are from different backgrounds. Different social classes. You are of royalty. And I am a simple commoner. Our worlds were never meant to clash.”
“But, they did,” you whispered, looking up at him. You could feel a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to say goodbye to this. To Miguel. To your love for him.
“We can’t just pretend nothing ever happened, Miguel. I know you may not…feel the same way about me as I feel about you, but, I can’t just let this go,” you swallowed.
“You will forget about me, princesa. You will. Your mind will be filled with other things as well as your time and your bed,” he told you, giving your hands a gentle squeeze before lifting them to his lips and kissing between the knuckles.
“I will always be dutifully loyal to you. I will never be far from your side. And-“ he paused for a moment, averting his gaze from you.
“My heart will belong to you, princesa. Even after we both move on, it will belong to you. Our time together will be something I keep and cherish until my very last breath,” he whispered, looking back to you.
You stared at him for a moment, feeling your eyes glossing over. You didn’t want to let him go. You couldn’t.
“So will mine!” You then blurted out.
“My heart. My love. My everything! Every bit of me will always belong to you.”
Miguel shook his head, “No, princesa. You need to move on. You can’t be clouded by things that will be of disservice to you. Do you understand me?”
You shook your head in return as you got out of the bed, out of his warmth.
“How can you just tell me to forget about you? Do you think this was all just for fun?”
You knew he was right. You were well aware that they could never be. No matter how much she wanted it. She had to move on. Heck, she should’ve never even accepted his advances in the first place.
“Of course not!”
“Then why do you think that I can forget you just like that? Miguel. You pursued me. You sent me gifts.”
“I know. And that was a grave mistake on my part. I was not thinking. I was young and naive, then. Had I actually given it thought…I would’ve never done it,” he frowned, shaking his head.
“So, this was all a mistake to you?” You glared at him.
“Of course not. I cherish all the times we spent together. This wasn’t all just for fun. It wasn’t because I was simply bored or I wanted to because I felt the need to waste your time. What I felt for you..what I feel for you..is real. This-” he motioned to the both of you, “-this is real to me. My feelings for you are genuine. They are real. And that is why I must let you go, mi princesa. Because, if I keep this up for much longer I don’t know if I will be able to handle the heartache.”
You couldn’t help but to let the tears that filled your eyes spill over. You have known this man for a couple of years now. You had shared secrets, told stories of one another, shared dreams and shared each other’s beds.
Miguel whispered your name, reaching out to you, yet you moved away from him. He couldn’t help but to frown, feeling his heart sink at you rejecting him.
“Perhaps you are right. We should end things now..right now that I am able,” your lower lip quivered.
You loved this man. You were in love with him. Truly. Madly. It just wasn’t fair.
“Perhaps you are correct,” Miguel simply whispered.
So, this was it, then. This was the end of it all. Miguel was truly a wonderful experience. You had learned so much from him. He had grown to be someone who you could trust, and you will continue to trust until the very end.
You began gathering your clothes and proceeded to get dressed, with Miguel doing the same.
“Shall I escort you home?” Miguel offered.
You simply shook your head before remembering the time of day it was. It would be unwise to not have an escort.
“Actually..yes. Please,” you nodded, getting the last bit of clothing on before waiting for him.
The walk back to the castle was quiet. Too quiet. It was rather eerie, and you did not like it at all. There was no hand holding, no flirty glances, nothing. Just the sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone path.
You wanted to burst into tears. How could life be so cruel? Your life was meant to be like in the fairytales where you get to marry who you love and happily ever after! You were the princess in those stories.
And yet, no one knew the truth. The children who listened to the stories. The adults who would tell it to their children. The cruel truth that fairytales weren’t real.
Once you reached the castle, Miguel’s steps went into a halt. This was where he would drop you off. It was too risky for him to enter inside with you at this time of night.
You didn’t want to say goodbye. Who knew if you would ever see him again. Well, of course you would but, not in the same light. He would no longer be your Miguel. He would simply be a knight whose duty is to protect the crown.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered to you, reaching over to grab your hand, however, stopping just as his fingers brushed yours.
You weren’t sure whether to trust his words or not. But, when he took a step back and bowed to you, that’s when you knew.
It was over.
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tags: @migueloharastruelove , @camzzn
#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel ohara x reader
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A Guide For New Users Fleeing From Twitter, From A User Who Needed One When They First Started:
Hi to everyone fleeing from twitter, Elon Musk is shit and he already has had an actively harmful effect on the site, one that will only get worse. So, welcome to Tumblr, it can be kind of intimidating, given its reputation and how many different features there are, I was certainly confused and intimidated when I first logged on and as I'm active on both I sympathise with y’all, so here’s a guide to anyone new:
Put your hashtags in the hashtag section. This is the only way they’ll actually have any sort of effect, or appear when you search for something. Don’t post them on the post itself.
There is a character limit for hashtags and a quite high hashtag limit. Go wild. Writing entire speeches is common.
Don’t tag lots of unrelated stuff to your posts, that’ll get you reported for Spam and just hated in general
Don’t censor words, users are fine with swearing, doing so especially with triggering content makes it hard for people to limit their exposure to said triggering content.
There’s no such thing as ratioing.
We don’t have quote retweeting, every reblog, comment, etc counts to op’s post. They can see it all, and will be notified depending on their notification settings.
Change your icon, people will think you’re a bot if you use the default.
Give yourself a bio, it’ll make you look like a person.
Follow people and tags, that’s the only way you’re gonna see the content you wanna see. The foryoupage isn’t to be trusted.
Actually reblog stuff, liking has no effect, reblogging is the only important thing here as there is no like based algorithm. Doing so will also make you appear human.
You can hide your likes and who you’re following. Doing so is not frowned upon in the slightest.
You can block tags, similarly to muting words on twitter.
You can have multiple blogs tied to one account.
You can customise your blog, go wild.
There is no word limit, you can write as you want. But if it gets too long make use of the keep reading feature, (the three dots beside the add gif feature)
There is an image limit of thirty, up from the former ten, though for some they may be stuck at only using ten, tumblr is kinda inconsistent. If you want to add more you’ll have to reblog your own post.
There is no reblogging limit when it comes to a post, though there is a daily posting limit, go wild, only your followers will be upset.
You can have videos, gifs and pictures in the same post.
You can just post audio.
Adult content is still banned, but actual moderation and enforcement is spotty, especially if it’s written.
Spam liking and reblogging isn’t a thing. Go wild.
You have an ask box that people can submit stuff to. You can respond or just delete the post. You can remove anon capability from it (which will get rid of most of the hate), or outright bar it.
You can’t private your account but you can restrict commenting and reblogging. Edit: I’ve been informed that you can in fact make your blog password protected, it’s just that it’s a rarely done thing and not widely known.
Block whoever and whenever, it’s not a big deal. Though if someone you’ve blocked has reblogged and added to a post and someone you follow reblogs that, their commentary will still be included in the post you see.
We don’t have muting, only blocking.
Yes, direct messaging is a thing (it’s the little smiley face)
The only way to promote your is through ‘tumblr blaze’, you pay a certain amount of money and your post will be promoted, but not targeted, so no invasions of privacy. You are subject to the employee’s whims on whether or not it gets promoted and unfortunately hate speech has been allowed.
Tumblr has tendency to hide/consume comments, posts and asks, don’t be surprised if they go missing.
Tumblr searching a blog relies on tags, words in the post and the users name, keep that in mind.
Posts will remain after you delete your account or the original post if they have been reblogged.
Years old posts are still circulating and that is considered normal.
You can queue up posts to be released when you’re not using your account. Or you can just post whenever you’re active. Go wild.
Wizards exist and are very popular on this site. Accept it.
There are posts with no notes that will never gain any more than a sing note for your like. Accept it.
There are posts will no op. Accept it.
Trans and autistic people dominate this site.
Don’t get pissy when someone tags a post ‘tw (insert slur)’, or any trigger warning for that matter, most are just being considerate of their followers who may be triggered by such content.
Twitter discourse is regularly mocked, it’s not gonna fly here.
No, we don’t call each other oomfs, or anything like that. We just have mutuals.
Tumblr in general lacks a lot colloquialisms that began on twitter.
We do have ‘blorbo’ ‘poor little meow meow’ etc.
Trying to go viral or trying to corporate is frowned upon.
Tumblr has a tendency to blacklist things tagged like ‘crowdfunding’ so bring that kind of logic you use for twitter posts over to tumblr.
We don’t have twitter circles, co-posting, etc.
Tumblr is surprisingly good at recommending blogs.
There are no verified accounts, and your follower count isn't visible. This is a good thing, trying to change it will get you laughed at.
People are going to just make up stuff, don’t believe everything you see and if it’s a claim about someone, investigate it rather than just believe it.
You can edit your posts after you’ve posted them, but the versions reblogged before said changes will still circulate. This editing of the original has been used as a spruce of comedy
If your worried about people seeing your potentially triggering, or even graphic content and they haven’t blocked the tags you’ve used you can use the keeping reading feature to put the content under the cut and post a warning at the top.
And this is quite important:
Stay anonymous and have fun. There isn’t an expectation to constantly expose inner details of your life, you aren’t expected to use your real face, your real name, age, etc. You’re not even expected to be truthful here. Exist however you wanna exist and have fun, that should be the point of social media.
Also keep in mind that tumblr has its own distinct culture that is going to take some getting used to. As well as a history any user who’s been here a while will at least somewhat understand.
Also I'll be editing the post with additional info and corrections provided to me.
#twitter#tumblr#social media#Elon musk#giude#psa#hellsite#edited to correct some stuff#hellsite tag#edited again to add stuff and correct some information
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cannn I request a Jax x fem reader nsfw!! With Jax having a breeding kink,, due to him being in this weird digital version of heat, due to him being a rabbit, also reader is Ike very girly so skirts and stuff!! Also.. Jax begs , yuuuup!
ofcccc!!!! sorry it took me a while to post I had a lot of school to catch up on but now I'll post more on!
includes:fingering, biting, breeding kink, Jax is in heat
jax
you
It's annoying going from a normal man to a rabbit in a digital world who goes into heat. Jax hates the feeling of always being hard and the urge to hump his pillow as he thinks about someone. You, in your skirts and girly stuff, just thinking about him fucking you drives him crazy. “God why am I like this?...” he laid on his bed until he heard a knock at his door. “Crap” he gets out of his bed and tries to make it not noticeable that he was hard. As he opens the door. It's you, “Hey Jax! are you coming to the activity today? Caine wants you to!” as he looked you up and down, wearing a skirt and a pink top on. ‘God she would look so good with my seed in her’ he thinks as his cock gets even harder and feeling that he could snap at any moment.
Jax sighed "ugh fine I guess..." jax walked behind you as he was in his thoughts thinking about you of course. After the activity he started to walk back to his room trying to get away from people before they noticed something was wrong. "Jax wait up!" ad Y/N rushed next to him. "what do you want Y/N?" Jax looked down at you "Well wanna come to my room? I have a new outfit and I need your opinion" Jax looked away for a sec "ugh fine only for a second" Y/N then walked to her room happily with Jax trailing behind her
after she got her outfit on and showed him, "um you look good I guess....but um I need a favor from you" you looked up "yes Jax?" as he looked up at you "i-i need you doll, look what y-your doing to me.” You blushed as you can see his bulge through his pants "Jax....are you saying you want to do...it?" Jax blushed and looked away “yes....please”..... Jax pleaded until you nodded to help him with his heat, since you did like him. Jax got up and pushed you on your bed.
He was breathing heavily and reached up your shirt to feel your breasts. You yelped as he squeezed. “Hha jax-” he attacked your neck with kisses and bites leaving a bunch of hickeys that you would have to hide from the others. "@#$! Y/N you're so pretty with those hickeys on you. Now they will know that you're mine ." he then took off your skirt and panties and shoved a finger inside you "hah jax~" you moaned out his name and he then added another finger then you moaned as Jax bite your inner thigh leaving it bruised but not hard enough to break the skin. hearing you moan made his cock twitch in his pants as they began to be very tight around his cock as it was throbbing from not having attention. you felt knots in your stomach about to burst until he took out his fingers "h-huh? Jax?". as you looked at him in disappointment "can't have you cum yet doll~"
he then took off his overalls and stroked his cock a few times to get it ready to enter your cunt " you know how long I've been wanting to do this" as he lined up his tip at your wet folds. “Looks like it will be a tight fit…..you can take it though right? “ then his hips began to push forward as his tip harshly made its way past your walls. “Hhha…its…huge…jax-”
“f-$#@” as he began to slam his hips forward “look what your doing to me doll…” as he was pounding into you. Already feeling ready to cum into your pretty cunt. He went down and sucked on your tits leaving bite marks all over your chest "god your so p-pretty when you moan my name" As he continued to pound into you as knots were increasing in your stomach about to burst. “J-jax im about t-to- '' you were interrupted by you moaning as you released your orgasim and jax still kept going until he started to get sloppy notifying you that he was super close. “G-goddamn…y/n i-im about to cum” as he finally slammed into you as he released all his warm cum into your tight cunt, filling you up. Then he got off you and laid next to you. “Geez doll you made me feel so much better for now heh.” you turned over to look at him “i didn't know you could go in heat. Or had a thing for breeding” he looked away “yeah….maybe you can help me for now” as he smirks at you. Jax pulled the covers on top of you ad him and cuddled
.
.
.
Kinger bursted into the room “JAX Have you see-.” as he just stares then slowly turns around. “oh um...i'll….just…go…..”
.
.
.
A/N: Thanks for the request! I know it might be a little crappy but its my first time writing so! I hope it's good:) have a good day/morning/night.!!!!!!
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Etta's Guide to Writeblr (March 2023)
So you fled here from Twitter/TikTok... Where to start?
Welcome to Writeblr! Pull up a chair, open those documents, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite tea, coffee, or cocoa. The first thing you'll want to do is start following other writers. Check out this post for recommendations! Search through the notes to find hundreds more. Since I made that post, a bunch of people mentioned they're lurking and still trying to figure out tumblr, so I thought I'd make this post to help people get settled.
How to set up your blog
Make your blog name something not resembling a pornbot - it can be whatever you want, anything fun goes, just not [name###]. If you include "writer" or "author" somewhere in the url it makes it easier to spot writeblrs at a glance but it's not a requirement
Change your profile to something that's not the default, Make sure you have a blog title, and add a little description in your blog header if you feel like it!
Make a pinned post introducing yourself (pls don't use your real name or any IDing information for privacy's sake, this isn't facebook), a short summary of your WIPs, and links if you have an author's website/newsletter/ao3/etc. You can check my pinned post for an example
Make intro posts for each WIP! You can spruce these up with graphics (canva and unsplash are both great free resources to make edits/moodboards), excerpts, lists of tropes, character intros, etc. Link to the WIP intro in your pinned post so it's easy to find! You can update these as often as needed
If you want to make character intros, go wild. If you can't draw, piccrew is a great option. Just start talking about your WIP!
Come up with a tagging system to keep your blog organized. I recommend individual wip tags or at least one for your original writing in general so it's easy to search for your work on your blog
Keep track of Taglists for your WIPs. Whenever you post a new thing about your story, tag the people who asked to be notified to make sure they see it! Only tag people who ask to join the taglist, but it's a good way to keep track of interest. It's normal to have multiple taglists for each story+ one general writing taglist.
How to make writer friends
Reblog their work and add nice comments, either in the tags, comments, or the reblog itself People notice regulars in their notes and appreciate the attention. I promise it's not weird to compliment a total stranger
If that's too intimidating, community events are your friend!
Weekly Ask Games: These are weekly events that are loosely themed where writers send each other asks about their WIPs! The most common are Storyteller Saturday (about the writing process), Blorbsday (aka Blorbo Thursday about characters), and Worldbuilding Wednesday (about the setting of your story). If you answer these late, nobody really cares, but it's a fun way to receive prompts and learn more about other people's stories.
Ask Games/Memes: These are posts with lists of questions you can reblog from other people, sometimes themed or listed with emojis. It's common courtesy to send an ask from the list to the person you reblog it from, then people can send you questions as well, so you can talk about your stories! You can search for dozens of them
Tag games: There's a ton of different types of tag games, but basically someone @s you with a challenge/question, you reblog with your answer, and then @ a bunch of other people to continue the chain. Some common ones are Heads Up 7s Up (share the last 7 lines of your WIP), Last Line Tag (share the last line you wrote), and Find the Words (ctrl+f the given words in your doc and share the results, then give new words).
Formal events: These are community wide participation challenges organized by certain blogs! @writeblrsummerfest is every July?? August? I think? It's run by @abalonetea a few years strong, and there are daily prompts and ask games! @inklings-challenge is a month-long short story entry for Christian writeblrs. I think there was a valentines event in February. @moon-and-seraph is hosting a pitch week soon! Since these are more organized, it's very easy to find similar blogs and support!
Misc. Notes on using Tumblr
Follow the tags #writeblr and #writeblr community to find other writers, as well as other tags that interest you like #fantasy for example
If you want to bookmark a post to read later, you can like it and/or save it to your drafts
The queue/schedule function is very useful if you want to space out posts or have a backlog to keep your blog running when you get busy. This is good for the community because it gives older posts a chance to be rediscovered! You can change the posting frequency in the settings.
REBLOG YOUR OWN STUFF. People aren't always on at the same times and so it's the best way to account for people with different schedules and timezones. If you're worried about being annoying, you can tag those #self reblog or something similar and other people can filter the tag, but otherwise it's a welcomed and accepted practice.
If your excerpt is pretty long, put it under a cut. On desktop you can do this by selecting the squiggly button on the far right when you make a new paragraph, on mobile type :readmore: then hit enter.
It's polite to add descriptions to images and videos for visually or auditory impaired people. If you don't know how to write descriptions, here's a good resource
In your dashboard settings, it's best to shut off the options "Best Stuff First" and "Based on your Likes". These function as the website algorithm and suppresses the blogs you actually follow, which defeats the purpose of the site, letting the dash be in reverse chronological order. Also turn off Tumblr Live because it's malware as far as anyone's concerned.
Curate your experience, block the trolls, and be nice
Update for March 2024
How to shut off AI Scraping on your blog
Go to settings and find the Visibility tab
Scroll down to the tag that says "Prevent Third-Party Sharing"
Turn that knob over so that Automattic can't steal your work for their language training model databases >_<
The other settings will just hide your blog from search engines so they're useful for hiding from nosy parents or other Tumblr users but if you're trying to build an author platform you can leave them off.
Again, welcome to the community! I hope you have a ton of fun!
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SUPER SHY megumi fushiguru x f!reader
summary: way too scared to make a move on your brother's best-friend.
warnings: nsfw, aged up characters, reader is yuuji's little sister, reader is shy, semi-public, sexual tension, bad pick up lines lol, not beta read, fluff?, not finished.
A/N: This was a draft I wanted to post before I went for a break, I didn't have the motivation to finish it, mostly because of how insecure I am with my writings rn, but I know myself, and I know I wouldn't post this one after my break and i'm sorry if I didn't finish it but here it is.
It's your second semester in jujutsu tech, and you can't still seem to stop looking for Fushiguro Megumi.
He's in fourth semester, class president, and quite popular in your classroom. Mostly because of how handsome he is and every girl is thirsting over him.
You never understood the hype until you saw him for the first time at your brother's house. It's been, what? nearly a year? They were doing a school project, more like he's doing a school project while Yuuji stayed playing videogames in the living room. He was wearing an oversized black crewneck with some jeans. Simple choose of clothes, but why does he look extremely handsome in them?
¨Uh... hi.¨ You entered the living room with no clue Yuuji would be here with his friend, at least he could notify you about having friends over so you could change into more appropriate clothes. But I guess some tiny shorts and your brother's T-shirt wasn't bad.
¨Oh! This is Megumi¨ He introduced you by saying your name and for him to know both of you are step-family.
Since then you could never take your eyes out of him.
You told your friends about him and how you could never approach him, even when he's in your house. Something about his aura made you really shy to approach him or even come out of your room to see him. And when Yuuji introduced you to Nobara so you could be 'shopping besties' things could'nt get worse.
Nobara is a great person, she's not the problem. It's her friend group. It's Megumi Fushiguro and his hot damn persona.
You couldn't even keep eye contact with someone else in the group when you go out, because you were fucking scared for him to see your loving eyes that you could swear they would leave those hearts from your eyes like cartoon's.
Nobara knew about your crush for Fushiguro, since she's like your older sister. And to say she didn't accidentally slipped your little crush for him on the cafeteria with Fushiguro and Yuuji present.... would be the dead of you.
At first, Yuuji wouldn't believe it, but then he would remember all those days at his house, going out, your little glances towards Megumi, and 'casual' questions about him... brought him back to reality.
Second, he went through 3 stages. Anger, emotion, and... confussion.
He was furious for the fact you had a crush on his best-friend, which later turned into a fantasize like the kissing booth, one of the movies Gojo-senseid made him watch. But... that brought him into what would he do? Is Megumi good for you? Would he protect you like he does? Will you be happy?
He had mixed opinions about this. Most of them were good, but two or three were bad. Maybe his anxiety?
And Megumi? well, he was confused.
He knows he has plenty of girls falling for him, but he never expected you to be one of them. He thought you were pretty, really, really pretty... but he could never do that to his best friend, could he?
He had kinda of a crush for you too, but never thought of going this far.
Days passed and the topic stayed untouched, not until Yuuji asked Megumi to talk alone.
And it was the most uncomfortable moment Megumi could go through.
¨I just wanted to tell you both of you have my blessing if you ever become something, a really nice couple, both of you are really smart and have a difficult character, not that matters. But I also wish you the best if you ever get married, OHHH how cute, could I be flower guy? Okay, that's a topic for the future, and oh! also- I ALSO give you my blessing to the both of you, mostly to the kid-¨
¨Yuuji, what?-¨
¨Both of you would have really pretty and powerful children, hoping they have more of my sister appearance rather than yours... but don't forget children are for later, LATEEER.¨
Megumi would never tell you about his feelings for you, unless you make the first move, but he's been interested in you since your transfer to Jujutsu Tech in Tokyo. You were just the cutest thing, always blushing and following behind him and Yuuji until you got into your house. You were never outspoken, but you would never let anyone walk all over you, the few times he's seen you fight seared into the back of his mind. The look of unshaken determination along with the way your body moved with your cursed technique had the front of his pants tighten a bit. He wants you, even to this day, but doesn't know exactly how to take that step forward.
You pause your eating for just a second to catch Megumi's eyes staring you down. Did you do something wrong? Did he no like the way you eat? There was little you could do that change that, honestly. As you feel your face brighten and your eyes widen, you feel your confidence swell. You're gonna change him off-guard.
This was it. You were going to say it despite all your classmates being in close proximity. You were never going to live this down.
"Y-You've been staring at me all night, Fushiguro-san... Rather than undressing me with your eyes, did you want to... take this somewhere private and take it off... for real? Don't... don't act like I don't know Nobara told you about my crush... Yuuji can't keep his mouth closed.¨
You're sure he doesn't even know your name and knows you as 'Yuuji's little sister'
But you were really nervous while thinking how to finally make him yours. So shyness can go for a little bit, and fuck it.
You can feel three sets of eyes burning into your stuttering and blushing head, your eyes glaring holes in the half-eaten rice bowl in front of you. You can't believe that came out of your mouth, although it definitely took you a while to get it out. You were way too embarrassed to even look him in the eye.
Megumi couldn't believe the sweet, innocent and shy image he had about you had actually said that, to him of all people. He could do nothing but stare at you in pure shock for a few seconds before returning to his neutral nonchalant state, watching you slowly simmer in your seat. Well, at least he didn't have to take the first step. He was definitely going to take you up on that tempting offer, but he couldn't say that in front of everyone. He knows they wouldn't leave this alone, pestering the two of you until you spill the details.
Feeling the awkward silence weighing down on your shoulders, you shoot out of your chair and turn to head to the restroom, where you will hang your head in shame for the rest of the night. "I, um... I-I'll be back." You make a beeline for the women's restroom, tucked away in a corner behind a few plants. You were definitely going to puke this time.
-
Back at the table, Megumi continues to eat his food, the only change since your departure being him eating a bit slower, trying to process the situation. You justly openly invited him to engage in sexual intercourse with you in front of your confused friend AND brother. Whether it be a joke or something more serious, he needed to hear it again clearly from your mouth for confirmation. The question is, how is he going to do that with you stuck in that restroom?
His entire train of thought crashes when he feels something cold drip on his shirt, his dark eyes darting down to see a wet noodle slowly sliding from its spot on his shirt to land on his dark jeans, another stain forming on the denim material.
"So, it DID have an effect on him." Nobara glares at Yuuji, who stares wide-eyed at his best friend before feeling his lips stretch into a grin. "[Y/N] finally shot her shot! Oh, my little sister grows up so fast!" The light-haired man hums happily before digging into the rest of his meal.
Megumi places the dirty noodle on a napkin before standing and turning to the restroom. "I'm going to check on her," he mumbles to his friends before walking briskly to the restrooms, missing the knowing looks between the patrons at the table.
"Five bucks if they walk out together."
"Deal....Wait, we're betting about my sister here..."
Megumi stands between the two doors, hesitant about entering the women's restroom. He didn't need unnecessary attention or worse, getting everyone kicked out and ruining their meal. However, the way you tried to keep eye contact with him as you stutter your way through your flirting had him listening more to his groin rather than his brain. With a quick prayer that he wouldn't get caught redhanded, he slips into the nearly empty women's restroom, seeing a pair of small feet at the very last stall.
You continue to sulk against the wall as you hear someone enter the restroom. You sigh softly, arms uncrossing to press your hands against your still blushing face. You could never face him again. You had one chance and you absolutely blew it. You were sure he was going to either ignore what you said or completely reject you on the spot. Your heart wouldn't be able to handle the response, so you decide to sneak out through the restroom window and text everyone a sincere apology.
You reach up to unlock the stall's door, pushing yourself to stand and slipping out to be face-to-face with Megumi Fushiguro, yelping as his hands press onto your shoulders and push you back into the stall. You can only look at him in shock as he locks you both in, the awkward silence from earlier crushing your lungs. Oh, no. He was going to reject you right now, wasn't he?
"Fushiguro-san, I'm really sorry about--"
"Did you mean what you said?"
Every word dies on your tongue as he closes the gap between you two and cups your face in his large hands, your body melding against his own. Holy shit, you were NOT expecting this development. A few dying wheezes leave your mouth before you realize your speaker box isn't going to work any time soon. You rapidly nod your head, feeling his grip tighten just a little.
"Good, because here's my answer."
You always wondered what Megumi's lips would taste like back when you saw him for the first. A hint of spearmint and cinnamon, honey and strawberries, hell you even thought he'd taste like cookies and cream ice cream. You can't focus on the flavor when the feeling is the only thing you're thinking about, his lips moving smoothly over your lips. Your eyes widen before you hastily respond, burying your hands in the front of his shirt.
This was blowing your mind right now. You couldn't believe he was here in the women's restroom with his lips moving sensually against your own and his hands reaching down to grip your hips, but frankly, you didn't care too much. You've dreamed of this moment for years and you were not going to let it slip easily. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you lose yourself to him, trying to keep in all your little noises the longer you were connected.
The taller sorcerer pushes a knee between your legs, letting his hips slide between and his hands lift you up by your bottom, getting a good squeeze. You were as soft as he thought and dreamt of. You were going to be the death of him for sure. One hand slithers up your shirt to brush his fingers against your ribcage, feeling lace brush against his fingertips. He groans softly against your mouth, pushing his tongue inside to assert dominance and letting his second hand join the first when you lock your legs against his waist. No turning back now.
You gasp then groan as his hands grasp the tops of your bra and yank them downward, latching onto your fleshy mounds while his hips grind slowly against yours, feeling your underwear dampen from the stimulating touches and breath-stealing kisses. Speaking of breathing, you part lips from him only to release a filthy moan as he pinches and pulls at your hardening nipples from underneath your shirt. Looking up at him with glassy eyes and drool dribbling down the edges of your lips, you could feel his erection grow and press against you harder. You wanted him, right here and right now.
"F-Fushi--"
¨Megumi, it's Megumi for you.¨
¨M..megumi-¨
The sound of the door swinging open makes you two freeze, eyes wide as whoever enters the restroom walks to the sink and stays put for a while, assuming she was fixing her hair or makeup. You grind your hips down against the tense man, feeling his grip on your breasts tighten slightly before he slams his lips against yours again to silence you. The two of you stay fixed in that position for three minutes before the woman decides her appearance is worthy and leaves the room, gasping for air as you pull away from each other.
"We... we should leave, huh?" You chuckle nervously as he slowly sets you up, straightening his clothes before clearing his throat. You also adjust your clothes and run your hands through your hair, trying your best to steady the blood flow in your face. You were sure you were tinted even redder than before.
"We're going to my place. I hope you're ready." With those few words, he almost zooms out of the restroom, leaving you surprised yet turned on. He didn't reject you or ignore you. In fact, he reciprocated your feelings, about to show you a good time back at his place. You get your mind back together before finally leaving the restroom, walking back to your table to see Megumi handing Yuuji a few paper bills.
#megumi fushiguro smut#jujutsu megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi imagine#megumi smut#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#megumi fluff
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Can you write a headcanons that Drew meets actress!reader for the first time and that they end up dating. (she's not in the cast of obx)
Like reader doesn't know who Drew is at all but Drew knows her from some movies or series, they meet at a party of their mutual friend and their relationship are friends to lovers.
I'd like to know who makes the first move between Drew and Reader
love at first sight — DREW STARKEY
authors note i’ve never done headcanons before and always wanted to do one but didn’t know what topic to do so THANK YOU for the request lovie. please let me know if this is what you were looking for. it's my first time making one of these.
paring drew x actress!reader
➪ You two happened to be at the same party at one of your good mutual friends parties one night in LA.
➪ You were a well known actress from your popular tv series that's been going on for two years now and two movies you were in as well.
➪ Drew noticed you standing with a few of your friends, talking and laughing, from across the room and couldn't keep his gaze away from you the entire time.
➪ At the time, Drew was contemplating whether or not to approach you and introduce himself, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself.
➪ Instead of going up to you, he continued to stay with his friends and occasionally look in your direction. You felt eyes on you during that time but didn't know who.
➪ You noticed Drew and his friends as you walked back from the bathroom with a few of your girlfriends. You didn’t know who he was either.
➪ There was something in you urging you to turn around and start conversation with this mystery guy. A good feeling. Also couldn't get over the fact how good looking he is too.
➪ Your girlfriend whispered in your ear, "That's Drew Starkey, who plays Rafe Cameron in Outer Banks," she says.
➪ You remember glancing at her with a puzzled expression before inquiring who he was. She stared at you like you were living under a rock.
➪ You were amazed by his acting when she showed you a scene from the latest seasons of Outer Banks.
➪ "I'ma go talk to him!" You told your girlfriends right before you walked over to the handsome tall 6'3 foot man.
➪ Let's say you definitely caught him off guard when you approached him with a toothy smile, introducing yourself to him and cast mates from his tv show. He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him looking all beautiful.
➪ You making the first move is bold and it's very unlike you. Especially when you find someone cute.
➪ "I think you're really handsome, Drew," Gazing at the man in front of you.
➪ You two didn't stop talking once you started. The rest of the night was spent hip to hip. By the end of the night, you had discovered a lot about each other. He couldn't believe you'd never heard of him before, despite the fact that he knew about you.
➪ "We should go out sometime together, are you available next Friday for lunch?" Drew asked as people began to leave the party. Of course, you gave him your number and went to lunch.
➪ The more hung out, the more feelings began to grow for one another in ways you never expected. Never felt so comfortable with someone before until you met each other.
➪ Three months later, Drew asked you to be his girlfriend by taking you to a private beach with all of your favorite snacks and drinks laid out on a blanket and lights that said "Be My Girlfriend?" It was the most beautiful scene ever.
➪ Being together was meant to be. Supportive of each-other in your careers. Always baking your favorite desserts together with oldies in the background. Couldn’t be more happier.
my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @solanathascientst
#drew starkey#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey headcanons#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x actress!reader#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x you
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