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#i also use the word new loosely
harlstark · 11 months
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coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 months
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finally working on my short story collection after manyyyy months of fear!!!! I HAVE A PLAN OF ACTION!!!!
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poptartmochi · 7 months
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in this house we love greek gods that preside over one specific thing and have fuckall to do for the rest of eternity <3
#sriracha.txt#creating some fuckt up little lady who presides Specifically over like. the point in which old crop is used to fertilize the new#thus playing into the whole cycle of life idea + giving her some foot to stand on as the kid of persephone and hades specifically#wrt the way old life supports the new? is this stepping on the toes of demeter and dionysus... yes...#but we pretend we do not see it.. i am overworked + low on spoons as it is and this is like.. niche lore for a character i am not paid to#play. i cannot dedicate much more effort to her. at least not right now#lament aside i think i will name her Rhoeas or something of that nature.. from what i can tell ῥόα is the word for pomegranates#which becomes ῥοιᾰ́ς for corn poppies..#now sit with me boy 🕴 we lose the plot here a little bit + also extrapolate from wikipedia alone for this BUT. in many cultures poppies are#heavily associated with death and love alike. and ofc they grow in disturbed soil.#SO... if you look at the original myth with a modern + loose lens. i think you could justify some kind of poppy child being like#a bridge between demeter and hades.. she comes from the literal disturbed soil that came when hades abducted persephone#+ has ties with death and love + love that can endure death which can be a fun allusion to the way that demeter's love for persephone#persists even through persephone's stay in hades which houses the dead... do you feel me comrades#i think you could even apply it to persephone and hades themselves - a love that endures death? but naur offense hades is NOT the focus her#</3 🤪 coming back to this theme of like. love persisting through death and being sewn in the wake of death/disrupted soil. we come back to#the anchor point of her character which is the old dead crops being used to fertilize the new growth. it's the love the dead has for the#living right!! to help it grow in a new and difficult world! i think that itself ties back into the central theme w the poppies#and also demeter has ties to poppies so i don't think it would be crazy for some grandchild of hers to have ties to poppies :-] i think thi#all somewhat feasible if you reaaaalllly squint. anyhow i'm too tired to go any further with it rn#corylana
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dirtbra1n · 1 year
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hanzawa masato doesn’t like sundays.
the shrine won’t be performing any exorcisms today. to be more specific, the miko that greets him feels his forehead with a warm hand and decides that he’s in good health.
he doesn’t want her to know how little he values her judgment, so he bows to offer a prayer instead.
he’d woken up this morning without having had any dreams. he went out of his way, on a morning that was over-bright and unsettlingly still, to make a trip to the shrine. because he hadn’t had any dreams. for all intents and purposes, a full night’s rest.
a monument to the places his mind has been lately, that this was cause for alarm.
barring that, lack of dreams notwithstanding, masato woke up just before the sun rose. the statements made about darkness before dawn are wrong, but his house is old and construction in the neighborhood leaves it eclipsed by increasingly taller buildings that are increasingly growing occupied by increasingly unneighborly neighbors.
the statements made about darkness before dawn are wrong, but when masato wakes up his room is dark and somewhere between too cold and not cold enough.
he doesn’t think it’s particularly scientific—knows this, truthfully—but he’s become familiar with the following pattern:
open your eyes first thing in the morning; you don’t want to be alive. throw the sheets from your legs and feel as the warmth is leached from your body. roll onto one side and feel as your ribs resist the desire to cave in. check the time and feel as the numbers rattle hollowly, meaninglessly, in your brain.
your name is hanzawa masato. you don’t feel tethered to any of the unkind physicality happening to “you”.
you want to die more than anything.
and then he stands, finally, and moves to go about his routine, and if he wasn’t put through an especially brutal wringer overnight, he’ll forget his ideation and go about things the way he always does.
if he was put through that wringer, he can forget. he’ll make himself forget. he’ll learn how to make himself forget.
he doesn’t intend to die, is the problem. that simplicity would be a blessing.
the shadows cast before him were inky, stretched long. the trains rattle near-silently on the tracks, low rumbling swallowing the impact of his own footsteps. the footsteps of other people, though sparse, jab like sharpened stones into his ears.
days like these feel fake. days like these make his dreams feel real. days like these make masato feel a little less than alive.
he would feel stupid saying so out loud, but he’s starting to believe that no one’s as haunted by ghosts as ghosts themselves.
he doesn’t know what brought him to this conclusion.
(a lie, mostly. if he had to hazard a guess: an answer lying somewhere between his exhaustion and reluctance to fall asleep, his wishing to die but fear of death, the restless shifting—currently absent—river.)
the thing about all of this is that masato doesn’t actually believe in ghosts.
not real ones, anyway. if anything—anyone—is going to drift aimlessly through the halls, holding a lantern or candlestick or knife, reflection held in its edge tortured and gaunt, it’s going to be him. an offhanded, deeply involved joke at which to have a sadistic laugh.
he has his obligations, though. of course, the knife would be fake—the edge of it dull and without character, not reflecting much of anything, harmless.
he thinks tashiro would think it’s funny. after the shock and fear and flustered anger wore off, at least.
real or not, the house he grew up in—the house he lives in now, the house currently, on only this day once a week, occupied by only him—is haunted.
he hasn’t forgotten. if it matters. he’s never been very good at lying to himself, and this one was an awfully slow sort of deal. the sort of deal that is just as much a pain to forget as it is to remember.
there was very little tenderness. he couldn’t quite stretch his legs all the way out, couldn’t reach his arms out over his head. his fingers were cold and useless, deadened, slow. the air pushing in and flowing out of his lungs seemed to whistle through the puncture wound in his chest.
he wishes that he could learn; there was no tenderness, in truth. time moved slowly, if at all, abandoning him to sit stiff in the water, soaked to the bone. abandoning him to finish dying in isolation.
he woke up, a few hours ago now, sweaty and splayed out, drowning only in his sheets, and it was an awfully slow sort of deal, but it couldn’t make him forget.
masato’s never been very good at forgetting things, either.
try as he might to toss them out, two facts cling like hooks to his skin:
1.    hanzawa masato is a still-living human being, and
2.    he doesn’t want to die.
(if he had to hazard a second guess, like he was on some sick introspective game show, masato would say that all anyone ever wants is to live, but living’s hard, and it hurts. it never stops hurting.
he figures—reluctantly, he doesn’t want to spend as much time as he does mired in unwinnable existential debates—that if it’s going to hurt living and hurt dying, he might as well live.)
masato doesn’t know where that puncture wound in his chest even came from.
I’m at the shrine
Like… for fun?
spiritual enrichment
Of course. Silly question.
Mom says to buy yourself a charm.
which one
…Health?
she said love. I’m buying YOU a love charm
I DON’T NEED IT.
poorer, he walks home as evening settles. the clouds that had been crowding the edges of the sky have hung themselves low over the city; no moon.
masato navigates mostly by bleeding sunlight and does not grieve. though his eyes insist otherwise, there is no river.
he carries three charms. good health for his mother, love for his older brother, evil warding for himself. he doesn’t know what compelled him to buy the third.
worn through by the prickly feeling at his skin, he turns his head stiffly to check—there is still no river.
at present, there isn’t anything worth his grief. one pocket lighter, the other heavier, but as insistent as his older brother was that he not buy the damned love charm, it’s not like masato doesn’t know that he’ll just as stubbornly insist on paying him back.
tomorrow, though. they’re not back until tomorrow.
abandonment, maybe. if he was grieving. he both had a dream worse than usual this morning and he didn’t. he was alone in that house and he wasn’t. it’s haunted when he’s there and not when he isn’t, but his mom insists that he house-sit every fucking sunday like the house would be the one pleading “how could you leave me here alone?” and not him.
but it’s not grief, and he’s not pleading. because he won’t let weird dreams count, no one even died.
it’s a pedestrian street, glossy shimmering concrete. everyone but him is walking right where the water would be.
there is no river. his chest aches. he knows better than to entertain the idea.
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what-the-fuck-khr · 2 years
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5 years is not that bad of an age gap what are y’all smoking have you ever spoken to anyone older than you in real life before or
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emlos · 5 months
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i call this piece "my laptop makes a horrible buzzing noise whenever i put it in my lap & its scaring me :("
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talaok · 7 months
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Like a Virgin
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.
warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)
a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol
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Now this wasn't like him.
He hadn't done this in a long time.
The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.
But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-
And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?
Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.
You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.
He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.
God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.
And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.
"Joel please"
Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.
Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.
"need something?"
He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.
"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"
fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.
He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:
"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.
"want me to stop?"
For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  
"Definitely not"
You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze
He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.
"Good christ"
that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.
"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.
"Joel please-"
"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.
He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.
The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.
"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this
"god you're so deep"
Yeah, you definitely knew
"and so big-" you cried
He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.
"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.
"just like that Joel- oh-" 
And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.
"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.
And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore
"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.
"why?" 
"nothing it's just-"
And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.
Goddamnit.
"you just feel too good Joel" 
"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"
"what is it?"
"Jesus Christ I-"
"is there something wrong?"
"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"
And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.
"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.
"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together
"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.
"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"
You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.
"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"
You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.
"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"
"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head
"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"
He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs
"that I can do"
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notmyneighbor · 25 days
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 7
Word Count ~ 3.9k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ minor mention of blood and gore, sexual content
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You are walking the yard surrounding your home in early August.
Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger is beside you, his fingers laced with yours as the pair of you leisurely stroll. You love mornings like this. Lazy weekends when you shut the rest of the world out. There is just this, this safe haven you’ve created, away from the city where the invaders seek to gain entry and conquer, where the humans continue to try to see past the lies standing right before them, the deceivers and pretenders like the one whose hand you’re clutching now so tenderly. Except he isn’t like the others; nothing like any of them. He is yours, and you are his. There is nothing else like this phenomenon, what you have with him.
The blackberry bushes lining the picket fence are heavy with fruit, the plump, deep black specimens dull skinned, ripe and ready to be plucked.
“So many of them,” the copycat murmurs, halting beside you as your pace slows and pauses, contemplating the sight of those heavily laden shrubs.
You nod. “My grandparents used to make jam from them. I can remember spreading it on pancakes on Sunday mornings.”
“Do you still recall how to make the jam?”
“Yes. It’s not difficult. Just a bit time consuming. A lot of prep work.”
“We have the whole day. Want to try?”
“Really? You want to?”
“It sounds pleasant.” He tugs you gently towards him. “Everything with you is.” His lips meet yours, warm as the summer sun heating you through the button front dress you’re wearing.
“We need something to gather them in.”
“Will this do?” He reaches for the fabric of your dress about halfway down the skirt portion, lifting the loose material until it forms a kind of scooped makeshift basket.
“That’s what my grandmother did with her apron. Yes, this will do.” You reach for the handfuls he’s gathered, keeping the improvised bowl in place. “Only pick the ones that are black. No purple or red, they’re not ripe. Nothing shiny. Only the dull ones. They should come off fairly easily. If you have to pull too much, they’re not ready.”
The imposter milkman follows your directions and the dip in the fabric you’re clutching is soon full. It is a little awkward walking up the porch steps, balancing the unfamiliar weight at your front. There are stains on his fingers, on your dress as you dump the gathered berries into the colander he grabs from the cupboard for you, followed by a mixing bowl, anything he can find to relieve you of your burden. Overzealous in the picking, perhaps, but you don’t mind. The excessive berries would just have gone to waste otherwise, more than even your wildlife neighbors could indulge in.
“You should get used to having extra weight around your middle,” he murmurs against your ear. Still persisting in the notion of having a baby with you. The previous month had ended with your menses. You’ve no idea if it’s even possible to create a new life with the doppelgänger. You’re still conflicted about it. Afraid for its life, for yours and Francis’. But you can imagine the face. As a toddler. Convinced somehow it would be a boy. Identical in every way to his father. A father as devoted to him as he is to you. The child clinging to your side, standing in those same fields near the house in summer, looking at the world around him with those dark eyes that are unshadowed, not yet tired like his parent’s. Soft brown hair. Human, because you won’t let yourself imagine anything else; refuse to concede that it would be part doppel as well. “I can’t wait,” he says, his arms enfolding you from behind, your hands settling on his, the quartet all resting over your abdomen.
You smile, leaning your weight against his chest for a few moments before reaching for the faucet. It was time to rinse the harvest, removing the stray leaf or stem here and there. You fill a pan with water to boil to sterilize the lids of the mason jars. There are a set of them under the sink. The glass portion needs to be similarly treated. It will be hot in the kitchen with the stovetop working so hard. You lean and lift the window behind the sink a little higher, hoping for any sign of a breeze.
“Go pick out a record to play.” A new tradition. You let your lover choose the music, discovering what he likes best. Perhaps some of Francis’ favorites. Some for the invader alone. You cherish both selections equally.
The man and the doppel themselves; that is something your conscience has struggled with for many weeks now. You think you will always love Francis. But you love the new creature inhabiting his form, too. More and more with each passing day.
The music begins and you smile to yourself. Al Bowlly. Something from two decades ago, but a timeless classic. One of the records your mother had left behind when she’d moved to the city, inherited from your grandparents. You were long overdue for a visit to your mother and father. You’d received a letter not that long ago. Still safe. It was a worry that gnawed at you. One of the reasons you’d joined the DDD in the first place. Wanting to protect your family, the people you love.
The very thought of you and I forget to do
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do
You spread a tea towel on the counter. The jars will air dry there after you’ve finished preparing them.
I'm living in a kind of daydream and I'm happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem, why to me that's everything
“How am I meant to not want to dance with you when this is playing?” Your partner’s lips graze the nape of your neck softly, his hands on your waist.
The mere idea of you, the longing here for you
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you
You smile again. A gesture that comes so easily when the imposter is around you. “After. You wanted to make jam, remember?”
“I want to make a lot of things,” he murmurs beside your cheek, his nose nudging aside a stray piece of hair that’s come free from where you’d pinned it up, mouth now on the patch of skin he’s cleared.
“Francis!” You giggle, playfully squirming in his arms. You aren’t really trying to get away. “I need your help. Use those muscles of yours and pulverize the berries. The potato masher is in the second drawer there.”
I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love
He rolls up his sleeves, beginning to crush the fruit while you gather the measuring cups and sugar.
“I know it’s equal parts berries and sugar. Three minutes to boil? And then another three after the sugar’s been added. Oh, I need the whisk, too. And one of the larger spoons to stir. Yes, that one, thank you.” Francis’ copy hands you the culinary tools you’re searching for, retrieved from the same drawer the masher had been in.
Speaking of which, he’s done a great job with the blackberries, making short work of them. For a brief second your mind teases an imagining of something far less pleasant being ground down like that, pulped human flesh, the gore that is left behind when a doppel feasts on a human. Your grip on the spoon tightens until it’s white knuckled and you force yourself to relax. You’re with him, the one that you love, that adores you. Your home. With the beautiful crooned words of longing issuing from the turntable in the background. Those horrors do not exist here. “Those look perfect. I think that’s maybe around six cups’ worth. But we’ll measure.”
Your estimate of the mixture volume proves fairly accurate. You begin stirring the berries in the stainless steel cook pot, watching the seeded dark red mixture begin to bubble, keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The doppel is at the sink, already washing the used bowls and tools.
It’s time to add the sugar. You stir it in, once again timing your task, finally deeming the developing jam ready to be removed from the heat of the burner, switching the knob for the pilot light off as you move the pot to an unused burner.
You can feel the perspiration beading on your forehead as you whisk the heated fledgling fruit spread. Nearly there. Your strokes with the thin wired tool were releasing the natural pectin in the berries now. After that it was just a matter of filling and sealing the jars.
“What’s next? What can I do to help?” The doppelgänger asks, resting a hand on your lower back, where the heat lingers, making the dress cling damply to your skin.
“I think this is actually just about ready to start pouring.”
He turns over the mason jars that had been resting upside down over the tea towel to air dry, lining them up on the counter. You transfer small batches of the jam to a batter bowl, making it easier to fill each jar without spilling. A lot of dishes being used for this. Funny how you didn’t remember that part from childhood. Just the fun of making it with your grandmother.
The replicant screws the last of the lids on. The jam looks so inviting. You can’t wait to spread it on some toast with some butter after it’s had a day or two to set. Maybe just one day. You were really craving it now.
“It’s hot,” the imposter says, dragging a hand across his forehead. “I’m ready to head back into the tub after that.”
You like the idea of that yourself. “You should.”
“Coming with me?”
“I was hoping for an invitation.”
He kisses you and you taste the salt of his perspiration. “You look a little flushed. We definitely need to go cool down. And then heat up again.”
“Francis, you’re impossible. Go get the water running. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”
“It’ll be faster with both of us working together.”
You won’t argue with that, allowing him to assist you. Munching on some leftover blackberries as you work side by side. The last of the dishes done. Everything put away. Shutting off the record player on your way to the stairs. His hands work on the buttons of your dress after you’ve turned on the faucet to fill the tub. You loosen his belt. Shove the hem of his undershirt upward after he’s removed the outer layer. He reaches between his shoulders and pulls it free. You kiss the dip between his pectoral muscles lightly covered with dark hair. Suddenly finding yourself hungry for him.
“Should we wait on the bath for after?” he suggests.
“Yes. Definitely.” You switch the faucet off hurriedly, turning your attention back to him. He’s already entering the bedroom. The temperature in this room is hotter than it had been in the kitchen. No fresh breeze coming in through either of the windows. Just that stifling humidity. It needed to rain.
Undergarments removed. He kisses your bare shoulder, humming the song that had been playing the previous evening, when he’d met you at your front door, the start of your weekend together.
Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You sit down on the edge of the bed. A hand rests on your thigh as he kneels down. Fingers stained from some of the berry juice, garnet and magenta smudges along cuticles and nail beds. Your hand sinks into the hair you’d trimmed recently, finding it’s already growing long again. You bend to kiss his mouth and he tastes like the fruit, like summer itself, warm and fresh and sweet.
He leans to kiss the breasts that will one day bear the nutrition to feed your child, if it was ever meant to be, sucking gently, each nipple responding to that sensation, rising and hardening, the melody of that love song still emerging all the while.
Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
Then he is between your thighs, every kiss still languid, drowsy, a leisurely summer afternoon gifted in each touch of his lips on your skin. Caressing your legs, the limbs that part to receive him. Gentle kisses on those nether lips, still humming, sending little vibrations into your body.
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me"
And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold
His tongue strokes your clit and you lean back slightly, hands sinking into the mattress, arms braced to either side. His hands curl around your thighs and he sups at your sex, the pace still unhurried, easing you along into pleasure. Delving into your entrance, rolling the taste of you on his tongue before sweeping through the petals back to your bud, massaging it from side to side, up and down, pausing every now and again to plant a kiss on your mound or thigh, suckling the bundle of nerve endings and then dipping back into your canal in short, gentle little thrusts, the tune nearing its end, reaching the final verses, but yours have just started, that thrumming he sends through you, deep inside, an echoing response in your core.
Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You let your weight rest on one hand so you can touch his hair again, meet the gaze of those dark eyes watching you, those depthless pools of desire you get lost in, drowning, a tide that washes you away into your release against his mouth.
You're sweating profusely now, damp inside and out as you scoot yourself back to the center of the bed, making room for your companion to join you.
There is always the little surprised sounding moan when he first enters you, as if he’s forgotten that feeling, rediscovering it each time his cock pierces your pussy. His hips roll against you in slow, lazy thrusts. He combs your damp hair back from your face, hair that has completely fallen loose, natural. He kisses your forehead and cheeks and lips, your jaw and throat and ear lobes.
“I love you,” he breathes against your neck. His voice sounds raw, full of emotion.
“I love you, Francis.” You grind up against his damp body.
His face hovers above yours. “Marry me.” You gasp as he grabs one of your thighs and rocks forward, pushing deep inside of you. “Marry me, be my wife. Stay with me always.”
Your heart pounds. To be joined with him like that. The mark on your arm only a faint pink line now. The traces of the bite completely disappeared. He wanted to put a ring on your finger. Everyone would know, then. There would be no concealing it.
“Be the mother of my children. Be mine forever.”
“Francis…”
“Please.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“I’ll do anything to make you happy.”
“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you add softly.
A heavy sigh as his body moves against yours, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “My love, my only, mine.” His pelvis knocks against yours faster now. Your knees tightly embrace his ribs. Every part of skin your lips touch taste of salt. His hair is darker, saturated with sweat, the tendrils clinging damply to his forehead. A drop slides from his nose and pools between your lips. The arms bracing his weight near your face are trembling. So close to the edge of bliss.
“Love,” he gasps.
“Yes,” you answer, and he spills into you, filling your womb with his seed.
***
You sit inside the bathtub between the doppel’s legs, resting back against his chest.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and you obey, hearing something being lifted from that basin of water. The wash cloth, you realize, feeling the cool liquid dripping onto you hair, sliding down over your heated face. Repeating until your hair is thoroughly drenched in the bath water, his fingers slicking back those wet tresses, smoothing over your eyes, your cheeks, curling beneath your chin and lifting your face so that he can kiss you. Your eyes open and you see him smiling. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Good.” A rumble of thunder in the distance. Finally, the rain was coming. “Will we lose the power again, do you think?”
“Maybe. Wouldn’t be so terrible, though, would it? Just being here in the dark together.”
“Not at all. I have fond memories of doing that very thing.” He kisses you again and your stroke the damp cloth over his forearms. “I am going to get you a ring, you know. Propose properly.”
“I know.” You lift his left hand and kiss it. “We should tell my parents. Visit.”
“You want me to meet them?”
“Why not? They’ll be your in laws. The grandparents of your children.”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “We will need someone to watch the little ones. When it’s time to make more…”
“How many are you planning on?”
“I don’t know. There’s no specific number. I just want it. Badly.”
“I know you do. I do, too.”
“You’re still scared.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t let anyone harm you. You, or the children. However many there are.”
“I know you’ll be a good father. A good husband.”
His arms tighten around you. “You are my perfect everything.”
***
You do not lose the power that evening.
There is light for your repast at the kitchen table. Still too soon to indulge in the fruits of your earlier labors—pun intended—and neither of you want to heat up the house again using the stove, so you have a simple meal of bread, cheese, grapes, and iced tea, listening to the storm outside, this one much calmer than the last, starting to write a letter back to your parents, beginning with the exciting news of your engagement.
“Do you think your parents will like me?”
You pop a few grapes into your mouth. “Yes. My mom is very similar in personality to me. My dad maybe a little gruffer, but he’ll soften with time. Especially when he sees how well you treat me. He’d probably like it if you asked his permission first. Just as a courtesy. A formality.”
Francis’ copy slices another piece of cheddar free from the block, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “What are you going to tell them about us, exactly?”
“Just that we met while I was working. You’re a resident in the building. The truth, you know.”
“But that’s not the whole story.”
You set your pen down. “I can’t tell them what you are. You know that.”
“Of course not. I’m just…wondering what to say. Or what not to say. How to behave.”
You lift the writing utensil again but don’t use it, merely holding it between your fingers. “Just be you.”
He looks over the top of his glass as you resume writing, neat cursive script filling the page. “Don’t forget to mention how handsome I am.”
“Hush, you.” You smirk, tossing one of the crumpled rough drafts at him and he easily catches it, returning your smile.
“And that I’m a good dancer.”
“You are a great dancer,” you concede, pausing again to tear off another piece of bread.
“We didn’t get to dance earlier.”
“We sort of did.”
His eyebrows lift. “I’ve corrupted you. That’s the sort of innuendo I’d deliver.”
“Speaking of which. No talking about wanting kids when we visit with my parents, at least not yet. They’re against premarital sex. Society doesn’t favor unwed women and it certainly doesn’t favor women who are unwed and pregnant. It’s because of the war. The need to repopulate, our purpose to create more soldiers.”
“We’re engaged, though.”
“Yes. But still not married.”
“I don’t want our children fighting in a war,” he says solemnly.
“Neither do I.” You pause, hesitating midway through writing again. “We are at war already. They’ll be born into it, just by the very nature of who they are. What they are.” You sigh, setting down the pen. The letter could wait for now. You don’t like the dark look on the features of the replicant sitting across from you.
“Come on. I owe you a dance.” You rise, reaching for the doppel’s hands and he allows himself to be tugged to his feet. “Go choose a record for us, my love.”
You clear the table while he rummages through the sleeved recordings. You leave the letter where it is. You’ll finish it in the morning, drop it off on your way to work Monday. At least there was one more day of this relaxed comfort, before you had to go back to the reality of the DDD.
You join your fiancé in the living room, positioning yourself with your dance partner, smiling as you recognize the song that starts to play.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“Fred Astaire, singing to Ginger Rogers. Another classic. This song was from the musical Top Hat. A big hit on the music charts.”
The doppel is silent, his hand warm against your waist, the other clasping your hand as you step and sway in a small circle.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“My mom loves that movie. You’ll curry some favor if you mention it. We’ll have to watch it together. The movie house downtown plays classics on Sunday nights. I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Two more verses of the song have already passed by.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We should go. I’ll take you.”
“A real date.”
“Yes, a real date.”
You grin, nuzzling his jaw. “I look forward to it.”
Dance with me. I want my arms about you
The charms about you
Will carry me through to
“I like making you happy.” He draws back to look at your features. “I want your parents to like me. I know it’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”
“They’ll love you,” you say softly. “How could they possibly not?”
“Because…”
“No.” You release his shoulder, resting a finger against his lips. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all that matters. I love you. You, inside of this man.” Your hand cups his cheek. “I’ve been calling you Francis all along. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s…not something you could ever pronounce. The differences in language…”
“I’ll do my best to learn.”
“Sweetheart. Call me Francis. That’s who I am now. Your Francis. Yours.” He kisses you, and you become lost in the feel of it, in the sound of the needle of the record player tapping restlessly now that the song has finished, in the lullaby of the soft patter of the rain outside.
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itsascreambaby96 · 10 months
Note
Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)
I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷
(A/N: Header by me)
Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.
Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis
Word count: 6.7k
Just the three of us
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You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.
But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you. 
Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did. 
The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.
Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly. 
You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.
"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal." 
But that didn't really convince you. 
"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu. 
"You are making fun of me!" 
"Babes you know I would never!"
You just raise an eyebrow at that. 
"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy. 
"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."
That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right. 
"Alright."
"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas. 
"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"
"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.
"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows. 
Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.
So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.
"What do I do with my hands?"
"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."
You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.
Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.
"Wanna show me what you learned?" 
Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.
"Ready?"
You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.
"I think you will be good now."
"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why. 
After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.
Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.
"Stu really went all out for you huh?"
"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."
"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"
You choked on your own saliva at that. 
"I am not in love with him."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that."
"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."
Tatum rolled her eyes playfully. 
"Whatever."
You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
"You having fun, pretty girl?"
You gave him a soft smile.
"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.
Stu laughed at that.
"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.
"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."
He looked at you in fake shock.
"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."
"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."
"Totally!" You two laughed again.
A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you. 
Billy came over to you, hugging you close. 
"Happy Birthday sweetheart."
"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.
"I love you guys so much!"
"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you. 
After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.
You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten
Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today. 
You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared. 
"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.
You nodded, smiling.
"I normally don't like big parties like that."
"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.
"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.
Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that,  taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.
"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps. 
You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck. 
Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan,  Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him. 
Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck. 
"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick." 
Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs. 
Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that. 
"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.
"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips. 
"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds. 
"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.
"Please Billy."
"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.
"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."
"Yeah, don't be shy now."
You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned. 
"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.
"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"
You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you. 
Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal. 
Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure. 
Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you. 
Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"
You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin. 
"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.
You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue." 
Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling. 
When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you. 
Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier. 
"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick. 
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.
"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison. 
"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."
"Stu please move."
You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving. 
"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."
You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's. 
"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.
"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either." 
With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum. 
"Open up sweetheart."
You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more. 
Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock. 
"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"
Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.
He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.
Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.
"Am I interrupting?"
You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it. 
"Don't be silly. Come here."
Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this. 
He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.
You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired. 
You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"
"Shit! What?!"
You almost had a heart attack. 
"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"
With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present. 
"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"
You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.
Billy just shrugged. 
Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.
You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.
"Concentrate Stu."
"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.
You rolled your eyes playfully. 
"He is not wrong, you know?"
You giggled.
Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.
"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"
"Oh we know."
"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you. 
You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."
Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it. 
"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited. 
"That is so sweet!" You were  touched. 
"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder. 
"See? This is me and this is Billy."
He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.
"It is perfect. Thank you so much."
And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily. 
"Soooooooo…"
"So?"
"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"
"Well we should upgrade it."
"To what?"
"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.
"You sure?"
"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."
You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.
"You did?!"
"Yeah. You never noticed?"
Shaking your head you looked at the both of them. 
"Guess you are stuck with us now."
Stu grinned from ear to ear.
You rolled your eyes smiling. 
"Like I wasn't before."
"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."
"Good thing I wanna keep you both."
"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning. 
"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling. 
Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"
You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you. 
"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."
"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes. 
"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.
"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."
He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.
"Can't wait to find out."
"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."
" Pf.  Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.
"Ow!"
"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.
"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.
Stu was bouncing next to you.
"Ohhh is it something freaky?"
"Stu…"
"No, now you got me curious!"
"Stu."
"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.
You rolled your eyes. 
"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."
You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.
"Sleep. Now." 
Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.
Stu and Billy looked at you.
"We really hit the jackpot with her."
"Totally!"
Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.
"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."
Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.
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lilithandherharlots · 10 months
Text
Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
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vaspider · 10 months
Text
Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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alvojake · 3 months
Text
Six Feet Under | P.SH
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「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k
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「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?
「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance
「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!
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All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love. 
However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.
Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.
Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.
Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you. 
While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.
“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.
You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.
The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut. 
Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.
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Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.
“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.
Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.
Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.
Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.
“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.
His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.
“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”
Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.
“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.
His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 
You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.
“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.
Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.
Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.
“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”
Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.
Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.
The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line. 
Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.
“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.
You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”
Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.
“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.
“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.
“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.
Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.
“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin. 
“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend. 
“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.
His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.” 
You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you. 
“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.
“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.
“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.
“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.
“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.
“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”
The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.
“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.
“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.
Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.
“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.
“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release. 
“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.
“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.
Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.
“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.
A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.
Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.
Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.
“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.
“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.
Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.
“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.
“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.
“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.
“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.
With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.
“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip. 
“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.
His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.
You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…
Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.
He really was going to have you six feet under.
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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inky-duchess · 7 months
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Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language
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When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?
Do Your Homework
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First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.
Keep it Simple
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Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.
Start Small
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When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.
Music to the Ears
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If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.
Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.
Writing in Your Language
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Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.
There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.
Know your Words
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I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.
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rebeliz7 · 4 days
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Ride
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Request: 28, 37 & 64 with Wan? R is in love with Wanda but Wanda is between R and Vision and every time R tries to talk to her about it Wanda just gives excuses and R feels like Wanda just like her for the sex but Wan realizes she's in love too.
Word Count: 2815
28. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”
37. “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”
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Vision is - a good guy. He’s the kind of guy that any woman could date and be certain that he’d never hurt them. He’s reliable and polite, and nice to talk to. He’s a good friend, and even a better partner to have in the field. 
He’s been in love with Wanda for the entirety of his existence. You don’t think he even knew what love was when he fell for her, and still. 
They make a good looking couple, and Wanda seems to fit in his arms. Especially when they’re dancing like they’re currently doing. 
There’s a part of you that wants to desperately go over there and ask him to remove his hands from Wanda’s waist, but she’s not your girlfriend and you’re not generally a jealous person. 
Still, jealousy beats underneath your skin and you don’t like it. You don’t like it at all. 
Before Wanda, and before you got tangled in this situation, you used to despise jealous people and the feeling as a whole. You didn’t quite understand it either, and you often thought that jealousy was just a response to insecurity. 
There is no room for insecurities with Wanda, you know exactly where you’re standing with her. You two are not in a relationship, and you hate to feel possessive of her but you also can’t help it. Just looking at Vision touching her, as innocent as he does now -as he always does-, is enough to drive you mad. 
You turn in your seat, trying to spare yourself from the visuals any longer.
Usually you’d be enjoying a night like tonight. You like to dress up, put on some make up, do you hair and pick a nice outfit to wear. You should be mingling, trying to befriend whatever new person Tony is trying to impress, because that’s what these little parties serve for after all. 
Tonight you sit by the bar by yourself, nursing a drink and although dressed to the nines, you don’t feel like talking to anyone. 
“Can I get some water?” You haven’t even noticed the music changing, even less so Wanda approaching the bar. 
She looks radiant, of course. Her cheeks are flushed the slightest bit, you guess from all that dancing, and she’s smiling widely when she meets your eyes and you’re pulled into her orb immediately. 
“Hi.” You smile and her smile twists into something else, something more meaningful and private. 
“Hi.” She husks out, her voice dropping lower as she walks closer to you and takes the glass of whiskey from your hands to take a drink, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“Thirsty?” You ask as she gently gives the glass back and takes a discrete step backwards. 
She very openly checks you out, her eyes traveling from your face and taking every inch of you where you sit before she meets your stare again. You don’t shy away from her, but you do have - other reactions. 
“Very.” She nods with a sly grin that does inexplicable things to you. 
You breathe in deeply, perhaps in a weak attempt to get a grip of yourself, and you take the opportunity to really look at her too. 
She’s wearing a casual loose black mini dress that looks ridiculously good on her, and that does nothing to conceal the curves you know are under it. Her high heels make her legs look longer than usual, and her hair is down in soft meticulous waves that mixed with that smile, give her an angelic yet sensual appearance altogether. 
“You look amazing.” You smile when you meet her eyes, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement. 
“I feel like you’re talking to my legs.” She says with humor, and you become incredibly desperate to kiss that smile off her lips. 
“Well, obviously.” You reach out as she laughs and you take her hand to pull her closer to you. She wraps one arm around your shoulders and even kisses your cheek, all normal things that can be taken as two friends interacting and nothing more. 
“You look really hot with this.” She whispers, close to your ear, and her hand running down the front of your blazer. 
You swallow with difficulty as she steps backwards again, this time to take the water the waiter has finally brought her. 
She drinks her water and you become entranced with the movement of her throat, and the way her lips stay wet after she puts the glass down. 
Your stomach begins to ache when you can’t control the desire you feel for her, and all that ache slowly travels southwards and you don’t think you can wait another minute to have her. 
“Come on.” You take her hand and you don’t wait to hear an answer, although she’s laughing as she practically jogs behind you to keep up as you pull her out of the suite and towards the elevators. 
The moment the doors of the elevator slide closed you’re kissing her. She’s about to tell you something when you do, and you catch her open mouth in a delicious and drowning kiss. 
She moans softly as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you push her against the metal wall. 
You kiss her fully, your hands on her waist as the taste of her cherry lip gloss invades your senses. Even more so when you let your hands travel further down her body and you don’t feel any other fabric under her dress. 
“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under this, are you..?” You ask against her lips, your throat now dry while you think about her walking and dancing all night long like this. 
“Why don’t you find out.” She husks, her lips gracing yours as she speaks and you feel your knees go weak. 
You swallow with difficulty as your brain short circuits. Your stomach is tied in knots and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never felt as turned on as you feel right now. 
“We need to get to my room.” You tell her with urgency, and she smiles provocatively. 
“You’re taking me to bed?” She asks with an innocent smile that doesn’t fool you at all. 
“Who said anything about a bed?” You retort as you run your hands down her legs, scratching her skin lightly as she combs your hair back with her fingers and you kiss her again. 
You kiss her until the doors slide open, and she’s pushing you lightly with a beautiful smile on her raw kissed lips.
You remove her dress as soon as your bedroom door falls shut behind you, and she laughs at your impatience. You, on the other hand, are not laughing at all because she hasn’t been wearing a thing beneath that dress and the realization makes your skin prickle. 
“You’re such a bad girl.” You tell her as you guide her towards your bed. 
“Only because I know you love it.” She teases you, licking your lips and your jaw before she steps backwards and lays on your bed willingly. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”
You stare at her and you can’t believe her audacity. A few minutes ago she was dancing with a man who she knows is in love with her, and now she’s here, wet and ready for you to do whatever you want with her. 
You don’t make her beg. You could never. No, you live to give her whatever she wants. You yearn to make her cum as many times as she can resist. 
Your face between her legs and your lips wrapped around her clit, you have the pleasure of making her cum and hearing her moan your name, over and over again. 
While she catches her breath you get rid of your clothes, and then you immediately lay on top of her, wanting to feel her body against yours and desperate for a little release yourself. 
“Baby.” She whispers against your ear as she wraps you in her arms, and accommodates your thigh between her legs while pushing hers against your wet heat. “You’re so wet. I love it.” 
Her easy laughter makes your chest flutter, and you kiss her cheek as you try to find a rhythm with your hips. 
“Of course you do.” You smile and she gasps when you push your hips particularly hard. 
“I want to taste you.” She rolls on top of you, and kisses you needly before she kisses down your body wantonly. 
She doesn’t make you beg either, and the visual of her between your thighs, eyes locked with yours as she eats you out without holding back in the slightest, is enough to push you towards the edge. 
You’re laughing when you come back to your senses, and she’s already peppering your face with sweet kisses and a wide grin on her lips. 
“Wanna put on the strap for me?” She asks mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she waits for an answer. 
“What are you thinking?” You ask as you roll the two of you in bed again. Your lips kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.
“I’m thinking - ” she cups your face, a devilish smile on her lips. “You look really well under me and I really want to ride you.”
You swallow thickly, and the next second you’re promptly getting the strap. 
The process of getting it on catches you both in a fit of laughter, but is comfortable and familiar, and you’re caught thinking that you’ve never had this feeling of belonging with anyone before. 
“Lay down and do nothing.” She instructs you when you’re ready, and you swiftly follow her orders.
You watch her take the toy in her hands as she sits on her heels beside you, that smile never leaving her lips as she strokes the fake dick and sends shots of pleasure directly to your clit each time she moves. 
“You want me to suck you?” She asks and you laugh as she moves to sit on your thighs, her hands never stilling. 
“I kinda do.” You nod and she leans forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips before she crawls down the bed. 
To say that watching her give you a blowjob is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen, would be a poor understatement. Not that you don’t use the strap often, you do, whenever you feel like it. But she’s never offered to suck you before, and you think you might have been missing out. 
There’s something about her and her lips as she bobs her head up and down, her eyes never leaving yours as she struggles to breathe and stubbornly wanting to take the whole thing in her mouth at once. 
But there’s a moment when she comes out for air and she looks at you, and you think you can’t wait another second before you’re inside of her, and she seems to have the same thought. 
Grabbing her hand you pull her up and kiss her messily, and almost desperately. She moves to straddle you and you both work on lining the toy with her entrance before she sinks down on it with a heavy sigh and trembling body. 
For a few seconds she just sits there, and you try to stay still. Her head is thrown back, her hands squeezing your thighs behind her as she swallows and breathes in and out. 
You watch her and you know you want her. You want her for good, for yourself and you need to tell her that. 
When she finally moves her hips and her eyes meet yours again, you know you love her and you think she might love you too. 
She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to ride you. She does that enthusiastically for a little while, and when you grab her and roll on top of her, she moans out your name in the most delightful way. 
Her nails are digging on your back as you thrust your hips and fuck her against your mattress as hard as you possible can. 
And when she cums, a tidal wave of pleasure showers you as well, and you cum along with her. 
“I want you.” You tell her as you look up, the toy still buried in her. 
“Again?” She asks breathlessly and amusedly.
“I want you, Wanda. I want to be with you, and I want to be the only person in your life.” You tell her and her smile drops. 
“Let’s not do this tonight, please.” She seems to beg, her hands on your face now, trying to placate you like she’s done many times before. 
“I love you, and I want more than this. I deserve more than this.”
She looks away, still trying to catch her breath and pushes you off of her to be able to get out of bed. 
For a moment all you can feel is rejection, but you take a deep breath as she hurries to grab her dress from the floor and you get up too. 
You throw the damn strap away and you pick up a long shirt and put it on, if only to maintain some sort of dignity in the upcoming exchange. 
“Don’t you dare to leave like this.” You tell her when you see her grabbing her heels and heading for the door.
“What do you want me to say?” She asks you and you walk closer to her. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged and if she walks out right now you have no doubt that anyone who sees her will know what she was just doing. 
“Anything.” You shrug and you see tears gathering in her eyes. “But you can’t just walk away after I told you I love you for the very first time.”
“I really don’t want to ruin this.” She tells you, and her words confuse you.
“How would you ruin this?”
“I always ruin what I love.” She says and you take her hands, letting her heels fall on the ground. 
There it is. 
“That won’t happen with us.” You assure her gently. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you.”
She chuckles when you say that and you go back to feel light, in a way. 
“And I want to be with you. For real this time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. We’re very good at having it, but I want more and something tells me that you do too.”
She doesn’t say anything for a beat, and that’s how you know you’ve hit a point. 
“We will fight.” She argues weakly, and you peck her lips. “We will yell.”
“And then we’ll have make up sex. That’s like, the best sex out there.” You counter, and she laughs. “You love me?” 
“I do.” She nods, her voice soft and honest. She kisses you this time and even presses herself closer to you, so much so that you can feel her heart beating against your own chest. 
“Then no more excuses. We can do this.” You smile and kiss her again. She smiles, her hands on your face as she nods. 
“I’ll have to talk to Vision.” She realizes and you kiss her again. 
“So that’s that?” You ask with a smile. “We’re together now?”
“We are.” She nods and you pick her up and twirl her twice. You’re both laughing when her feet touch the ground again, and things seem to fall back into place. You’re you again.  
“Let him down gently.” You suggest and she takes a deep breath before taking off her dress one more time, and heading straight to your closet and then your bed. 
She’s familiar with your room, she knows where everything is, and she’s stopped asking to borrow your clothes a while ago. You watch her put on some shorts before she looks at you again. 
“I will. He’s such a nice guy.” She says as she throws your comforter to the ground, and you take a clean one from the closet. 
“He really is.” You agree, as you both get under the new comforter. 
“Are we bad people?” 
“Maybe.”
You’ll think about that in the morning, right now you want nothing more than to cuddle your new girlfriend and have a good night’s sleep. 
… 
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daisynik7 · 3 months
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Make Me Sweat
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Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~2.5k
cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 
Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.
Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 
Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.
You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 
Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”
Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 
Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 
The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 
“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.
Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”
“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 
They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.
Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 
You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.
Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”
Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 
Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”
“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”
You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”
It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”
As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 
“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 
Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 
“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 
You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"
He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”
You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."
You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"
He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."
You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 
~~~
After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?
You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”
Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.
He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”
He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”
You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”
He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”
“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 
“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”
“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”
He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”
He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 
“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”
You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 
“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  
“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 
“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 
With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.
You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”
You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 
“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”
You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.
He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”
Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.
As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”
It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”
You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.
He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 
He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.
And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 
977 notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 5 months
Text
melatonin and oxytocin [ s.r ]
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Summary:
You and Spencer pair up in an inn room that just happens to have one bed. Oh, and did you know that physical contact promotes better sleep? Well, that’s what Spencer says anyway. And he’s always right.
WARNINGS: literally none, crazy i know
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: pure fluff, friends to lovers
wc: 5.1k
masterlist!!
a/n: here’s my official apology for all of the angst i put you through in erotomania 😭 i dont write pure fluff like ever so please bare with me if it’s a little stunted 😭🫶 also this is very very loosely based of off 05X21 - Exit Wounds.
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The team was currently in Alaska working on a case, set up in a small inn during their stay. The issue was, they could only provide 4 rooms despite there being 8 members on the team, meaning that everyone had to double up for the night.
Spencer’s first instinct was to turn towards Morgan, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth Morgan was profusely shaking his head. “Absolutely not,”
“Wha-” Morgan held up his hand before Spencer could question his decision. “Never again. You are some kind of vampire I swear,”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in Morgan’s direction, met with a shrug. “This man needs his beauty sleep,”
“Dibs!” Garcia leaned over the back of the couch she was sat on so she could grasp at Morgan’s forearm. “I call dibs.”
Morgan chuckles at Garcia’s enthusiasm, leaning over to place a kiss on the crown of her head. “Alright, me and you babygirl,”
Garcia’s soft giggle is joined by a yawn from where you’re sat next to her, and you rub your eye with your knuckle as you lean your head against the back of the couch. “Can we just all choose quickly? I’m exhausted-”
The end of your sentence is cut off with another yawn, only further emphasising your point. Your words were definitely more blunt than usual, your tiredness most definitely making you more irritable.
“I uh- You can share a room with me if you want,” Spencer’s voice is timid as he speaks, and if he wasn’t stood directly behind you you’re not sure you would’ve heard it.
"Sure great, let’s go-" You drag one of the room keys off the small table in front of you as you stand, throwing your travel bag over your shoulder and walking around the couch, placing the palm of your hand flat on Spencer’s back to push him towards the stairs up to the rooms. “Goodnight.”
Your call back to the rest of the team is more of a custom than a genuine wish for them to get a good rest, and if you were more alert you’d probably hit yourself over the back of the head for being so blunt. But politeness wasn’t on your mind right now. You just wanted to sleep.
You fumble with putting the key in the door through your drowsiness, but eventually manage to push the door open to the room.
It’s about what you’d expect from somewhere small like this in the middle of nowhere.
The flooring was dark, with a small rectangular rug in a wine red colour in the centre, the walls an off-white with a slightly suspicious looking water stain in one of the corners. There was a dark-brown leather armchair leaned against the wall next to an ajar door leading to a bathroom, with a decorative pillow of the same shade of red as the rug on the floor. The arm of the chair had a noticeable rip, most probably from a child who’d got bored whilst staying there.
The room was warmly lit from the two lamps on the two side tables, the only other thing on them a basket-weaved mug coaster. The over head light was notably turned off, unable to be used at all seeing as it didn’t even have a bulb in it.
And of course, there was a single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room, it’s frame the same dark wood as the floorboards and definitely just as worn.
Although, the duvet and its pillows seemed brand new, a clean, sparkling white that stood out against the dis-colouring of the wall behind it, a throw blanket over the end and two decorative pillows on top, again matching the other decorative pieces in their dark red colouring.
You didn’t even have to look over at Spencer to know that he was definitely a little perturbed.
With a sigh your drag yourself into the room, dumping your bag on the armchair and unzipping it to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to change into.
Spencer however, remained stood in the doorway, seemingly considering whether it would be a better option for him to go out and sleep in the SUV.
His rational brain told him to just suck it up and get on with it, but he couldn’t help that subconscious voice in the back of his head that rattled on about how unhygienic hotel rooms are, especially in small rural areas like this.
Not only that, he was also battling the reality that he would inevitably have to share a bed with you, even if it was large enough to house both of you without any unintentional physical contact; He was at least grateful that it actually looked clean.
“Can I- leave the light on?” He breaks his own train of thought as he pushes the door closed with his foot, surrendering to the inevitability of spending the night in this dingy room with you.
You give him a short nod as your answer, joined by your third yawn in the span of five minutes. "God I genuinely think I could fall asleep standing up right now-"
Spencer chuckles at your yawn and nods at your words, leaving his bag on the floor as he takes a seat on the left edge of the bed, pulling out a copy of Les Fluers de Mal and flipping through it until he found the page he’d left on.
“It has been scientifically proven that it is physically impossible to fall asleep while standing, as your cerebellum would be triggered in response to the lack of stimulation which would cause a reflexive response to make you sit down.”
Of course Spencer would know something like that.
You rifle through your bag to find your toothbrush and travel toothpaste. "So what I’m hearing is I could fall asleep standing, but then i’d just end up sitting down," You zip your bag shut again once you’ve retrieved everything you need, pushing open the door to the small en suite bathroom, which thankfully, was much newer than the bedroom. "That sounds like falling asleep standing up if you ask me,"
Your voice muffles ever so slightly as you shut the door behind you.
“Yes, that is a fairly logical conclusion,” He nods slightly as he reads, not taking in the fact that you can’t see him from behind the door.
“Although I still believe it doesn’t quite count as 'falling asleep standing', as when you sit down your brain then activates its natural response to the loss of stimulation in order to put you to sleep. You see, it is impossible to enter the first stage of the sleep cycle within that split second between standing and sitting down, meaning that your body would still be awake.”
You chuckle lightly as you stick your head out of the bathroom once you’ve finished changing, toothbrush in your mouth as you dump your work clothes over the arm of the chair.
“The act of falling asleep occurs when your brain begins to transition from a state of wakefulness to a state of deep sleep. This is signalled by a spike in alpha-waves, which creates a relaxed feeling leading to…” He trails off as he watches you walk past him, figuring you’re not listening to him anymore.
"Why’d you stop?" You straighten your posture as you stop momentarily in your tracks, turning your head towards him.
“Oh, I- thought that you weren’t interested in listening to what I was saying.” His reply betrays his surprise at your engagement.
“I was simply going to add that when you are sitting and the spike in alpha waves occurs and you begin to fall asleep, your brain will automatically trigger a response that causes you to slump forward, hence causing you to sit down.”
Your body subconsciously mirrors your brain’s interpretation of what slumping over means as you walk past him again to spit out your toothpaste.
"Oh- like when you’re in a car and your head falls forwards-"
“Yes, that is a fairly similar example actually. Your brain receives the sign that you are beginning to fall asleep when your head starts to nod forward, and this causes a trigger within the brain’s automatic control system that in turn activates a response that makes you sit up straight so that you don’t fall asleep at the wheel.” As Spencer speaks, he shuts his book, leaving it on the side table as he unpacks his bag so he can also change.
“It’s actually rather surprising how the brain is capable of performing such complex tasks that we sometimes don’t even realise,” He said with an astonished gleam in his eye.
"Huh, the more you know-" You give a satisfied nod at Spencer’s little exposition, taking a seat on the right side of the bed and leaning over to turn the lamp off, allowing Spencer to leave his on as he retreats into the bathroom.
You’d never express it verbally, especially not to Spencer’s face, but you quite liked when he’d ramble about topics he was interested in and knew a lot about, it was both educational and weirdly charming.
You let out another yawn as you pulled back the duvet to lie down, extremely grateful that the mattress of the bed was just as new as the bedding itself. Looked like you might be able to get a good night’s sleep after all.
"Did you know that the human brain has over 100 billion neurons making over 100 trillion connections between them. Each second, a 100 billion electrical messages pass from one neuron to another. It is really quite fascinating." Spencer continued his tangents as he exited the bathroom, now clad in a black t-shirt and a pair of tardis pyjama pants that you found oddly endearing.
"That’s a lot of electrical signals…"
"A lot is an understatement" He chuckled, moving over to the left side of the bed and carefully laying himself down, making sure he wasn’t accidentally making any contact with you.
"It is so complex that it is believed that only a portion of our neurons actually fire each second, meaning that there is potentially trillions of more electrical messages going to unused parts of our brain." He seems to get lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling as he considers the idea further.
You hum softly with a small nod at his assessment, turning to lie on your side so you were half-facing him as he looked up at the ceiling, and you couldn’t help but find yourself tracing his jawline with your eyes as you studied how the dim lighting from the lamp besides him gave it even more definition.
Spencer turns to look at you after a few moments and notices your sleepy expression, feeling a tinge of guilt at keeping you awake since you are clearly exhausted. “I should probably shut up and let you get at least a little sleep. “ He chuckles awkwardly, “Sorry for rambling on, I kind of got carried away.”
"It’s okay… I like listening to you…" You rub one of your eyes with your knuckle as you struggle to keep them fully open, eyelids fluttering as you blink repeatedly to keep them from closing shut. You weren’t done looking at him yet.
Spencer’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your confession of enjoying listening to what he had to say.
He then starts to talk again, his voice quieter as he tries to accommodate it to your tiredness. “It’s not the brain’s electrical signals that dictate if you sleep or not, by the way. It is actually a neurotransmitter called melatonin.”
“Melatonin is the hormone responsible for controlling your sleep cycle, and it’s responsible for that sleepy feeling we get when we're tired.”
"Mhm…” You nod softly against the pillow, that was one fact you were definitely familiar with thanks to the joys of university, although hearing it come from Spencer’s mouth just made you want to go along with what he was saying like it was brand new to you.
“Melatonin also helps to regulate your body’s circadian rhythm, which is basically your daily schedule,” Spencer explained.
“Our bodies are naturally conditioned to go through a cycle of sleep and wakefulness. During the day your body will release cortisol and adrenaline for stress management and focus, and during the night your body will release melatonin to help you relax, making you feel sleepy.”
“Well i’m certainly feeling the effects of melatonin right now…” You try to keep up your responses to what Spencer is saying without falling asleep, but you can’t help closing your eyes as you focus on the softness of his voice.
Spencer smiles at your response and nods as he looks at you and notices your eyes are closed. “I should probably stop rambling then, since I don’t want to keep you awake for any longer…” He spoke even softer if that was possible, his eyes trailing over your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.
"I like your voice Spencer, it’s calming…" Your words are half muffled as you mumble them against your pillow. "And your facts are interesting…"
“Huh?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow, having not quite heard what you’d said.
"I like hearing you…" You simplify your words a little bit as you repeat what you’d said, a little louder this time, and you force your eyes back open again to look at him.
Spencer’s cheeks immediately turn pink at the compliment, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He is then quiet for a moment as he tries to process what you said.
“You… like hearing my voice?” He asks, a tinge of confusion evident in his voice, to which you reply with a soft nod and a small hum of affirmation. "I hate it when people interrupt you…"
Spencer’s cheeks remain a light shade of pink as he tries to process what you said, and he stays quiet for a while, trying to think of how he could respond to your little confession.
“I… Well… thank you-” he replies, trying to stay calm whilst also hiding his flustered smile.
“No problem…”
Spencer smiles at your response, eyes studying your expression in an attempt to better understand your feelings. All that he can make out however is your hair, and your tired and half-closed eyes.
“You know, you should probably go to sleep.” He chuckles softly, “It’s quite late after all,”
“Yeah… that’s a good idea…” Your voice is quiet as you mutter out an agreement, but you can’t help from feeling a mild disappointment that your small conversation with Spencer was coming to an end.
“Did you know it takes an average of 7 minutes to fall asleep?” You murmur out the fact as a last resort, half-hoping that it will encourage Spencer to keep talking to you.
“Well, it depends on the person actually” His reply is soft and non derogatory, and his eyes remain locked on the peaceful tiredness in your expression. “On average it takes about 15 minutes of lying down in a relaxing environment to fall asleep, however for some people it might take 20 minutes or more. On the other hand, some people can fall asleep much quicker, with one study finding that it only took an individual 65 seconds to fall asleep.”
“I wish I was that person,” You shift slightly to make yourself more comfortable, pulling your right leg upwards towards your chest and incidentally brushing it against his in the process.
Spencer is lost in his emotions as he stares at you, and it takes you turning your head against the pillow for him to realise that he wasn’t fully listening to what you’d said. “Oh- Yeah, pretty lucky huh?”
His eyes avert from you after that, suddenly very intrigued by the water stain in the top corner of the wall opposite where you were laying down, trying to remind himself that it is inappropriate to stare at his colleagues like that.
But despite all the rationalisation, his heart continues to beat at an accelerated pace and he begins to feel strangely excited seeing you move around the bed. You might be tired, but he certainly wasn’t. Not anymore.
Spencer turns to look at you again as you cover your face with your arm, seemingly protecting your eyes from the light of the lamp on his side table.
He’s silent for a moment as he finds himself staring at you again, mentally punching himself for finding himself getting so lost in your facial features.
"Do you want the light off?" He asks you, keeping the tone of his voice gentle.
“No it’s okay,” Shake your head underneath your arm, “You can keep it on…”
You knew about Spencer’s phobia of the dark. The whole team did. It was pretty much a given after what he went through a few years ago with Tobias Hankel. And you wouldn’t mind sacrificing your comfort of sleeping in pitch black darkness if it meant that Spencer wouldn’t be uncomfortable or afraid.
Spencer gives a nod at your answer, and you can tell he’s relieved that you didn’t want him to turn it off. After a few seconds he speaks again.
"Can I ask you something?" He says, keeping his voice soft.
“Mhm?” You move your arm from your face to rest against your forehead so that you can look at him as he speaks.
Spencer's cheeks immediately turn a light shade of pink again as he meets your eyes. “It's… uh… Well, it's a strange question,” He replies awkwardly
“Would… you mind if I… uh….” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “Would you mind if I put my arm around you?” He eventually manages to say, keeping his voice soft.
“Huh-?” You let you arm fall back down to your side as you process his question, eyes blinking more awake and Spencer’s cheeks only turn more red as he sees your surprised expression.
“Well… You see… I- it's a common thing that people do when sleeping… to… uh… to hold one another..” Spencer replies, still keeping his tone soft and gentle. He begins feels incredibly stupid for even bringing up this topic, hastily trying to explain himself before it has the opportunity to become awkward.
“Is it?-” Your eyes flicker around his face, your eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as your exhaustion seems to momentarily disappear.
“Uhm… well… usually it’s for romantic reasons,” He replies, his face turning a light shade of pink yet again. “But… uh… I’ve … heard… that some people like to cuddle in a… platonic way… to help them fall asleep…” His voice threatens to waver slightly as he speaks, and he hides the lower half of his face in the bedsheets in an attempt to hide his cheeks, not wanting you to see how red he’s gone.
“Oh- Uh- Well, if you think it’ll help…” Your subconscious mind knew that Spencer was pulling those facts out of his ass, but you didn’t have the mind to care, not when he was practically openly inviting you to drape yourself all over him.
Spencer perks up when you give him the go-ahead, gently wrapping his arm around you and lightly pulling you closer to his body as he turns to look at your face. “Is this okay?”
His expression screams nervousness as he stares at you, praying that you don’t find his actions uncomfortable.
“Mhm…” Your response is short and direct as you nod, adjusting yourself to lie with your head resting under his chin, allowing your arm to drape over his torso like he’d done yours and bringing your leg up to rest over his waist.
Spencer can’t help but smile as he feels you make yourself more comfortable, sliding one of his arms underneath you and moving the other to hold the inside crease of your knee.
“Do you know that physical contact has a calming effect on people’s minds?” He keeps his voice gentle, as he always does.
You give a soft hum that gently vibrates against the skin of his neck, sending a small shudder down Spencer’s back.
He carefully adjusts the position of his head so that he can keep looking at your half-closed eyes, figuring that considering the two of you were practically intertwined like a pretzel that it would be okay for him to gaze at you again.
“You know that skin-to-skin contact promotes the release of oxytocin…. It… uh… it can help to make you feel calm and comfortable,” He says softly.
“Oxytocin…” You mumble the word under your breath as you try to remember what the hormone is, “…the love hormone..?”
Spencer’s voice turns to a whisper as he responds. “That’s correct. A lot of people refer to it as the ‘love hormone’ because it is released at high levels when people engage in romantic activities or are falling in love.”
“It is also responsible for the feeling of trust and comfort,” His hand on your leg begins to draw small circles against your skin, barely feathering over you to the point where you can hardly feel it.
“Would you believe me if I told you that we were producing this hormone right now?”
You sigh softly against his neck at the ghost of his fingers against your leg, only half listening to what he’s saying as you try to focus on the feeling, and Spencer responds with one of his own as he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, leaving small goosebumps in it’s wake.
Spencer’s fingers slowly widen their ascent up and down the side of your leg, brushing along your thigh as his fingertips gently skim your skin.
“Comforting, isn’t it?” His voice is low and gentle as he feels just how comforting your presence is, slightly shocked by how excited he feels when being this close to you.
“Yeah…” You muster up as much of nod under his chin as you can, giving his torso a slight squeeze from where your hand is around it.
Spencer smiles at your gentle squeeze of his torso, noting how light it is as you barely manage to add any pressure at all.
“Do you know that physical touch also triggers a person’s serotonin and dopamine production?” He asks you softly.
As if to test his fact himself, he moves his thumb up and down your thigh with a little more pressure, his fingertips leaving behind a trail of almost unnoticeable goosebumps.
“Yeah… Yeah I knew that…”
Spencer smiles softly at your confirmation. “Then you know the feeling they’re giving you right now?”
You give him another small nod as he pulls you a little closer to him, stroking his fingers a little higher up your thigh. His arm underneath your side shifts to your mid back and starts to gently massage at the tense muscles formed over your last few days bent over a desk to work on the case’s profile.
The slow pressure elicits a soft groan from your lips, a pleasant release from all of the tension you’d been carrying over the last few days, slowly dissipating as his fingers worked their magic over your t-shirt.
Spencer can feel you starting to relax into his body as his fingers work against your skin, and his breath threatens to catch in his throat as your hand moves from resting around his torso to up over his shoulder, fingers curling closed against the fabric of his t-shirt.
Spencer leans his nose against the crown of your head, the trace scent of lavender entering his nose as he took a slow breath in, most likely a trace from when you’d last washed your hair.
By this point, the two of you were very aware that the position you were in was anything but platonic, his hand tracing patterns into your thigh, your head pressed into the crook of his neck, and your hand slowly tracing over the curve of his shoulder to take it’s place cupping his cheek, your thumb pressed against the front of his ear with the rest of your fingers splayed in the soft curls gracing the side of his head.
“I’ve run out of facts…” Spencer laughs nervously at his confession, breaking the small silence between you.
“you’ve run out of facts…?” You force your eyes to blink open again as you repeat his statement as a question, pulling your head out of it’s position under his chin to look up at him curiously as you arbitrarily trace your thumb over his jaw. It wasn’t at all like Spencer to just not have anything to say.
Spencer’s face turns a dark shade of red when he hears your question, made much worse at the feeling of your thumb on his jaw, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine. “I- Yeah….” He says quietly.
Suddenly a thought passes through his brain.
“I… actually…. I do have one more fact…” his voice turns to a whisper as he speaks, a tinge of nervousness still lingering in his tone.
“Hmm?” Your expression brightens a little, and he catches the small glisten in your eyes as the dim light from the lamp reflects off of your irises.
There’s a short pause.
Spencer then clears his throat before speaking.
“...Do you know that right now... at this very moment... I want to kiss you…?”
He remains facing away, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin as he mutters out his confession, trailing off at the end to the point where if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard it.
“...Is that okay…?” His voice was barely a whisper, scared that if he were to speak too loudly he’d scare you off and you’d never want to speak to him again.
“You want to… kiss me..?” His confession spurred you further awake, no longer struggling to keep your eyes open as you scanned his expression, your hand halting its movement against his jaw.
The sight of you gazing up at him makes his heart skip a beat and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach. Spencer then looks down at the space between your noses, and speaks nervously.
“…I- Yes, I want… to kiss you…” His eyes quickly dart over to your lips and back again as he waits for any signal of acknowledgement or refusal.
“Will it help us fall asleep?” The question leaves your mouth instinctively as a way to try an alleviate the mild awkwardness between the two of you, and you internally berate yourself for not taking the situation seriously.
Spencer laughs a small, nervous laugh when you ask if it would help you both fall asleep, moving his hands back over to your thigh and gently brushing his fingertips against it.
Spencer then looks down at your lips again as he speaks. “No, I don’t think so…” He says, his tone once again turning to a whisper. “…if anything it might actually wake us both up further…”
“Just say it will so I can kiss you-“ Spencer remains silent for a moment, face frozen in shock. He then lets out a nervous sigh as he looks down at your lips again.
“…It- Yeah- Yeah it’ll help us fall asleep…” he whispers, his voice barely audible, and he gives you a nod that’s a little too eager.
“Then there’s no harm in trying right?” Your hand cups the side of his face, gently encouraging it down towards yours so you can finally place a kiss on those perfect pink lips of his.
“Yeah…” He slowly leans forward towards you, taking in your faint scent, the warmth coming from your breath, the softness and moisture of your lips.
Spencer’s lips slowly press against yours, just barely ghosting them with the tiniest bit of pressure. He then slowly pulls back, his eyes darting all over your face before again settling on the stain in the corner of the wall. It was just so interesting.
You take his chin in your hand gently to turn his face back towards your own, your thumb gently tracing the line under his bottom lip as your eyes scan his cheeks, pouring over the extremely faint spotted freckles over his cheeks. You’d never noticed them before. But then again you’d never been close enough to.
“I’m not quite sure it worked… Maybe we should try again…” You watch as Spencer’s face erupts into a beautiful pink flush, a soft breath resembling a laugh leaving his mouth. “Yeah, we can try again-”
Spencer nods as he speaks cutting his own sentence short as he leans down to kiss you again, adding a little more pressure this time as he seemingly grows in confidence. The kiss remains chaste and short, and as he pulls away for the second time his eyes remain fixed on you, smiling alongside his mouth.
“Is it working now?” He laughs softly as he speaks, eyelashes gently fluttering as he places a kiss on the bridge of your nose, his fingers slowly sliding into your hair at your temples.
“I’m not sure yet…” You respond with a kiss of your own placed against the curve of his chin. “Maybe we should keep going…” You place another kiss right in the corner of his mouth, and Spencer sighs softly as it misses his lips by a hair. “For research purposes…”
He smiles lightly when you mention it being for ‘research’, and his voice grows even quieter as he speaks.
“Yeah… research purposes…”
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