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therealdisneyfan2319 · 2 months
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Swing | Wanda Maximoff
A Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe Story
Summary: Wanting to make up for missed birthdays, you give Wanda quite the present
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut (18 + MINORS DNI), language
Word Count: 1.9K
Masterlist
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You anxiously paced around the living room of your shared house with Wanda.  She was en route back after dropping the boys off at Vision’s for the weekend.  The quiet hour you had to yourself was spent setting up the latest in a long line of birthday gifts for your girlfriend.  It was your way of making up for all the ones her ex had forgotten: how anyone could ignore Wanda on her birthday was incomprehensible.  She insisted that you didn’t need to spoil her, arguing that you didn’t need to make up for Vision’s shortcomings.  You ignored her.  It was the first time in your life you had a woman to spoil and you were planning on taking full advantage of that.  
The gifts started small: cooking her favorite dinner on Monday for no reason, surprising her with her favorite flowers on Tuesday, the new end table she’d been talking about for months on Wednesday, and a long after dinner massage on Thursday.  Wanda wasn’t used to such thoughtful displays of kindness.  Yet you were determined to make sure she had the best birthday yet, which is why you saved the best for last.  This was the present you knew she wouldn’t be expecting at all.  It’s the one she mentioned in passing once not realizing how you’d cling onto it for the last few months.  It was the most expensive of the gifts.  And it was the most…scandalous…of the gifts.  
The sound of the front door unlocking snapped you back to reality.  Your heart pounded in your throat, threatening to explode out of your body entirely as seconds turned to minutes turned to hours as you waited for Wanda to walk down the hallway.  
“Virginia’s over for the weekend.  She brought the kids with her, too.  I know Billy gets along with Vin well enough, but Tommy really doesn’t care for him or Viv.  And I don’t understand why the V names.  Could they not come up with anything else?” Wanda frequently voiced her disdain for her ex-husband’s new girlfriend and her kids.  While you knew that she was happy and secure in your relationship, you also knew that the topic of her failed marriage was a sore subject.  
“The boys’ll be fine, Wands.  It’s just for the weekend.”
“I know.”
“They’ve gotta get used to being around Virginia and the kids.”
“I know.”
“That means we have the weekend to ourselves.”
“I know,” Wanda smirked.
“I have a present for you.”
“Y/N, no.  You’ve already gotten-” “It’s downstairs.”
Wanda’s mouth snapped shut abruptly as she looked at you, a curious expression painted on her face.  
“Follow me?” you asked as you offered her your hand.  You smirked knowingly as Wanda sighed, dropping her hands into your outstretched one.  
“You know, you don’t have to spoil me like this just because it’s my birthday.  Really, it’s okay.”
“I want to make up for all those ones that Vision missed or forgot or whatever…plus this one is for both of us.”
“What do you mean-oh.”  Wanda’s eyes widened as she stared at the hanging mess of nylon and leather straps hanging from the heavy bag hook on the ceiling.  “Oh my god.”
“You like it?” you chuckled, giving Wanda’s hand a slight squeeze.
“Oh my god,” she repeated.  You felt her hand slip from yours as she carefully made her way over to the middle of the room.  Wanda brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed the set-up with a keen sense of curiosity.  
“Now if you really don’t want another gift, I can always take it back,” you teased, cheekily shoving your hands in your pockets, watching Wanda stare awestruck at the swing in the middle of the room.
“Don’t you dare,” Wanda warned.  “Where on earth did you find one of these?” she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through the straps.
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”
She gave you a look.
“The internet.  Some website.  Google suggested it.”
Wanda’s look turned into a smirk.  The nylon straps danced through her fingers as she continued to examine her newest present.  You felt your heart slowly creeping up your throat the longer you stared at the straps twirling through your girlfriend’s fingers.
“You remembered.”
“Wanda, how could I forget?”  Your heart threatened to burst out the side of your neck as blood rushed through every part of your body.  
“And this is why you wanted the boys to stay with Vision this weekend?” “Do you want to keep asking questions or do you want to try it out?”
Her lips crashed into yours before you could get another thought out.  Instinctively your hands found their way to her waist, pulling her body flush against yours.  She sighed into your mouth, her soft hands gently tugging at your hair.  No matter how many times you did it, kissing Wanda never got old.  Each kiss was a new experience, a new sensation that you perpetually craved.  She was the most entrancing woman in the entire world and she was all yours.
“So how does this work?” Wanda asked breathlessly as you nibbled on the sensitive spot under her jaw.
“Dunno,” you mumbled between kisses, your grip on Wanda tightening as soon as you felt her swoon ever so slightly.  “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“This won’t fall down, right?” she asked.  Her hands trailed down from your head to the buttons at the front of your shirt.  You shook your head, recoiling slightly as you felt her cold hands brush your chest as she tore at your clothes.
“Hope not.”  You undid the button on her jeans, your fingers slinking inside the waistband.
“Hope not?”
“I mean it should be good.  Don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”
Wanda chuckled as she shook her head.  She knew that you would’ve double and triple checked to make sure the swing wouldn’t fall down the second she got into it.  
“So how do I get in?  Do I just-?”
“I think you just sit back into it and put your legs in the straps,” you replied, stepping out of your jeans and boxers and kicking them behind you.  
Wanda, now in her long sleeve shirt and panties, carefully looked behind her as she grabbed the leather support straps and allowed herself to sink into the swing.  She fell back with an emphatic oomph, tentatively repositioning herself as the two of you prayed she wouldn’t immediately come crashing down.  
“How is it?” you asked, slinking over to the swing and positioning yourself between her legs.
“It’s actually pretty comfortable,” she observed.  “Can you help me get my legs up?”
“Yeah, but let’s get these off first,” you replied, teasing the palm of your hand between her legs.  Wanda whimpered at your touch, a jolt of excitement running through her body as her hips bucked into your hand.  You smirked at her as you pulled off the lace garment, tossing it over your shoulder.  “Leg.”
Wanda lifted her leg up as you grabbed the extended stirrup, guiding her foot through the loop so that her leg sat bent against the swing.  You gently grabbed her other leg unprompted, guiding it to the same position.
“I am definitely going to feel that tomorrow,” Wanda joked.  She reached one hand forward and grabbed your cock.
��Oh yeah?” you stifled a slight groan as she began to pump her hand up and down your length.  
“I’ve already got that bad hip, Y/N.  Let’s see how much more damage you can do.”  
You felt yourself twitch under her grip, hardening as you rocked into her hand.  Luckily you were able to grab the metal bar at the top of the swing to steady yourself.  
“You okay there?” she teased.  You groaned in response, leaning forward to capture her lips between yours.  She smiled into the kiss, knowing full well the intoxicating effect she had on you.
“You gonna keep distracting me or are you gonna let me-?”
“If you don’t put that inside me soon I may actually die.”
“Somebody’s dramatic.” “It’s my birthday, I can be as dramatic as I want today.”
“Is that so?” You grabbed the base of your cock, positioning yourself against her entrance.
“Mmhmm,” she nodded.  
Instead of pushing yourself inside her, you rubbed your head against her folds, coating yourself in the wetness that was pooling between her legs.  Wanda threw her head back and groaned.  She gripped the straps tightly as you teased her, dipping the tip inside briefly before pulling out and sliding around her clit.
“Is this what you wanted, Wands?”
“Y/N, please,” she pleaded in a tone that was uncharacteristically whiny.
With little warning, you pressed yourself into Wanda, her slick folds parting with ease as you buried your length inside her.  The feeling of her warm, wet walls around you elicited a groan from the deepest part of your core.
“Oh my god,” Wanda groaned, her eyes rolling back as you entered her at an entirely new angle for the first time.  “Baby, oh my god.”
“That okay?” you asked.
“Move,” she ordered as she screwed her eyes shut.
You didn’t need to be told twice.  Taking a firm grip on the straps, you rolled your hips into her.  The moan that erupted from her lips was pornographic.  Her body strained and tightened as your cock rubbed against the most sensitive part of her walls.  She squeezed against you as you thrust in and out, forcing you to work harder than normal.
“Fuck,” you gasped, biting your lip as Wanda’s wetness engulfed you over and over again.  
“Right there, Y/N, don’t stop,” Wanda begged.  Her hand came up to rest against your stomach as you picked up your pace, pounding into her slick pussy as you pulled the swing toward you.
“You feel so good, Wands.”
“I love the way your cock feels inside me, baby.  You always-fuck, that’s the spot right there-” Wanda let out a groan, unable to finish her thought as you pulled against the swing, changing the angle ever so slightly.
“You like that?” you gritted through clenched teeth, attempting to stave off your impending orgasm.  
“I’m close,” she whimpered, arching her back against the swing.  “Keep going, just like that.”
“Wanda, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.  “Should I pull-”
“Inside.  Please.  Fill me up.  I want to feel you finish inside me.”
Wanda’s words drove you over the edge.  You groaned loudly as you came inside her, painting her with your seed.  The sensation of being filled with your cum sent Wanda over the edge, too.  She moaned your name over and over as you filled her up, squeezing every last drop from you.
The two of you came down from your highs in a sweaty tangle of naked bodies and leather and nylon.  You collapsed on top of her, panting into her chest as your legs buckled under the ecstasy of your orgasm.  Wanda leaned back, rubbing her hands through her hair as she struggled to control her breathing.
“Best birthday present ever,” she panted.  “I am so sending the boys to Vision’s more often.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.  I don’t think it’s possible for us to use this quietly,” you chuckled.  “I’ve never heard you moan like that before.”
“That’s because you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“So what I’m hearing is I need to cum inside you more often.”
“What you’re hearing is I need you to have your way with me in this swing more often.”
“Round two then?” you quipped.
“You’re on.”
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katsukiizmoon · 11 months
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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you
『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting
Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.
His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.
“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.
Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.
He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.
Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.
Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.
The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.
“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.
Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.
He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.
He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.
Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.
Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.
And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.
He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.
“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.
He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.
You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.
You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.
He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.
Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.
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tokoyamisstuff · 6 months
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sexlapis · 6 months
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[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views
⌦ 🎬 ⁺   .    ❀
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꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader
⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.
sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3
. art credits to deltapork on twitter
.. inspired by this post
… part 2, part 3, part 4
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
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꩜ first clip
you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!
the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.
toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”
you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”
toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”
“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.
the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”
“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”
toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.
you speak. “as i was saying…”
you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).
꩜ second clip
this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.
in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.
꩜ third clip
during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.
“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”
you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.
“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”
“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.
you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”
while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.
“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.
“forget i even said anything!”
꩜ fourth clip
you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.
“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”
spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”
“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”
“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”
toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”
“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.
toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.
“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.
꩜ fifth clip
this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.
while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.
꩜ sixth clip
toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.
and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).
you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.
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a/n: thank u for reading ^_-
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jazzmasternot · 2 months
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It’s gotten bad
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I��m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
4K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 2 months
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Beyond the limit
>> Part two: the breaking point
Spencer is hesitant when you ask him to be rough, but when he realizes how much you enjoy it, he wonders just how far he can push your limit.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) dom spence, guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation (use of slut), orgasm control, hairpulling, choking, overstimulation, creampie, cumplay, squirting, rough sex, so many body fluids
a/n: 4k words for 4k followers! Thank you all so much, consider this as a token of my appreciation. This one is for you, I love you all ♡
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Spencer considered himself as someone with a strong sense of self-control... until he found himself on top of you, right between your legs. How could he resist when your body felt so soft against his? When all his restraint seemed to vanish into thin air?
He had you pinned against the bed, his palms tracing your hips before moving to your breast. You moaned out his name as your nipples hardened against the thin material of your shirt—his shirt, to be exact. After all, it was how it all started.
The moment he was greeted by the view of your perfect ass when he came home from work, barely covered by his shirt you were wearing, something in him snapped. You looked so damn good, so damn tempting, practically begging to be touched.
It didn’t take long for him to discard his bag onto the floor before scooping you in his arms. You simply giggled, amused at his sudden urgency yet eagerly welcoming it as he led you into your shared bedroom.
Now he was right between your thighs, pressing his hard erection right against your panties. You could feel yourself getting wet by the friction and you found yourself parting your legs even further, grinding your hips along with his as his mouth continued to suck on the spot right below your ear.
Anytime you whimpered, he gripped you tighter, and your shaky hands clutched onto button-down shirt. There was something about him still dressed in his work clothes while you were nearly half-naked, his shirt bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half exposed. And you liked it. It made you feel vulnerable being pressed under him like this, sparking a strange desire to submit to him completely.
And now you craved more. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take the lead. But to your dismay, his movements suddenly slowed down, leaving you momentarily confused because you could feel the way he was holding back. His hands were trembling against your body as if he was consciously avoiding being rough.
You slid your hands up to his chest, lightly pushing him away and he quickly drew back. His brows furrowed as he gazed down at you. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"
Shaking your head, you reassured him. "No," you replied softly. "But... you don't have to hold yourself back for my sake, you know.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I mean, I know you're trying to be careful, but... I want you to take control, without holding back. I want... more.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features. "You want me to... be rough?" he asked cautiously.
You nodded, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "I do."
"But I- I don't want to hurt you."
You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I trust you, Spence. I trust us. And I want you to trust yourself too."
His expression softened under your touch. You took it as enough of a sign to push forward as your thumb swept back and forth across his jaw.
"If it's too much I'll tell you," you assured him.
He searched your eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering within his gaze. "What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
You bit your lip, studying his face for a moment before responding. "I think I'll like it if you do," you confessed, your cheeks flushing slightly. "But we don't have to do anything crazy you're not comfortable with. We don't necessarily have to do something you don't want to."
Spencer swallowed hard, processing your words. "So what do you want then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your hand slid up the length of his jaw until your fingers slipped into his hair. Very carefully you gripped a handful of his curly strands in your fist. "Do whatever you want, baby," you answered. "Mark my skin. Pull my hair. Talk me through it."
You noticed the way his lips twitched at your words and you smiled.
"Fuck me hard," you demanded boldly.
His breath hitched as he searched your eyes. He definitely wanted to do those things, too. When he finally relaxed into your touch, a rush of anticipation surged through you, your heart beating rapidly.
"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.
You nodded, gripping his hair a bit harder, enjoying the way his breathing grew shallower. "Please," you whispered, your voice filled with desire.
With a barely audible groan, Spencer gave in to your request, his resolve melting away as his lips crashed against yours. Your pulse sped up excitedly in your chest in response—this was exactly what you wanted. That pure, raw desire that was too strong for him to contain. When he finally pulled away, he was breathing even heavier now, his shoulders heaving with each audible inhale.
"If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way," he declared firmly. "You will listen to me, understood?"
You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at the commanding tone of his voice. "Yes," you replied breathlessly.
And just when you thought he was about to delve into another kiss, he surprised you by pulling away. He sat back, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. "Sit up and lean back on the pillow," he commanded.
Your heart raced as you complied, eagerly following his lead.
"Take off the shirt... leave your panties on."
You followed, leaning forward, your fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to his eyes. His predatory gaze was locked on your breasts, noticing the way your nipples hardened as the cold air brushed your skin. When you leaned back again, he dragged the tips of his fingers up your thighs, gripping your waist for a moment before another demand left his lips.
"Spread your pretty legs," his soothing voice told you, staring intently between your thighs. You did as you were told, parting your knees, your feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
"Now touch yourself." You gulped at his tone, sliding your fingers inside your panties. He suddenly called out your name in a warning, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks. "Over your panties, I'll tell you when to touch yourself directly."
You nodded, letting your fingers hover over the fabric of your panties. You let out a gasp when you felt how drenched you were before you found your clit. You were hyperaware of every movement you were making, you realized, and it turned you on way more than it should. You choked on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as felt the sensation growing along your body.
You suddenly felt a hand gripping your jaw and you quickly opened your eyes, greeted by him staring down at you. "Keep your eyes on me."
There was nothing else for you to do but to oblige. Your fingers continued to press down your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud desperately as he released his hold on your jaw before trailing down your chest, teasing your aching nipples. You whimpered and watched as his eyes traveled down your body.
Spencer hungrily took in the way your legs were spread apart before him, the way you were touching yourself so eagerly. Your fingers moved rapidly over your panties, the material now too drenched as it slipped between your folds every time you moved. Your pussy was barely covered and he could see your arousal dripping down your legs.
"Look at you," he mused, his hand traveling down your body, resting slightly at the inner part of your thigh. "You like putting on a little show, don't you?"
Your breaths came out in shallow, eager gasps, but when you attempted to increase your pace, he quickly shook his head. "Slower. We don't want to rush."
You complied, adjusting your movements to match his pace, and he rewarded you with a smile. "That's it. Nice and slow," he praised, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.
Through hooded eyes, you watched as he began to undress, each deliberate movement teasingly slow. His tie came first, followed by his shirt which he discarded carelessly onto the floor. His pants followed suit, and when he was completely naked, your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his exposed body.
Your fingers on your own body slowed down as you took in the sight before you, the way he slowly gripped the base of his cock before squeezing it hard.
"Don't you stop, I didn't tell you to stop," he reminded you, his voice firm.
With a sharp inhale, you resumed your movements, the urgency returning as you focused on pleasuring yourself under his watchful gaze. Then as if to taunt you, he began pumping his length slow and steady as your eyes focused in on the motions.
"S-Spence," you whined, pushing your hips faster against your hand, trying to keep your rhythm in check though the sight of him pleasuring himself had you so weak in the moment. "I- I wanna take my panties off."
He gripped his cock tighter, working his fist quicker along the length as his breaths deepened. "Yeah? You wanna see how wet you are?"
His words sent a surge of warmth through your body, spreading from between your thighs to your cheeks as your fingers quickened in pace and your legs spread further for him to see. "Yes-yes- please," you begged.
"Such a desperate slut," he muttered. His crude words shouldn't have brought you pleasure, but they did, and your tight walls clenched around nothing. He noticed the effect it had on you and smiled. "You liked that, huh? You liked being called a slut?"
You gulped, your fingers moving faster. "Y-Yes."
He simply hummed in response, snaking his hands between you, finally slipping off your panties down your legs. His fingers then gripped the soft plush of your thigh, spreading you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massaged soothing shapes into your skin.
He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, taking in the mess between your legs. His gaze traveled your stomach, up to your perky breasts, before meeting your half-lidded eyes. He then slowly took your hand and your jaw slacked open when he abruptly sucked your fingers into his mouth.
His tongue felt hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dipped between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. A wave of heat traveled through you as he held your gaze, licking off your fingers one last time before guiding them back between your thighs.
"Keep going," he instructed, and you wasted no time in rubbing your clit feverishly. Your face twisted with pleasure, brow wrinkled, body tense, and each circle around your sensitive flesh brought you closer to the edge. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets underneath you and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds.
"Do you hear that? You're getting so loud. So wet," he gritted out. His eyes flickered up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. "You're close, aren't you?"
You looked over to him. The view of his hand gripping his cock drew you so close to the edge you were balancing on, all the while attempting to feign control to give him the show he requested.
"Y- Yes," you admitted breathlessly, your body trembling with need.
He hummed a reply, soothing your thigh with his other hand. "Be a good girl and beg for it."
A choked whine escaped your lips.
"P-Please, let me come," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought his permission to release the tension coiling in your stomach.
"Ask nicely," he said, his tone firm yet encouraging. "Can I what?"
"Can I... I-I come?" you stammered, your eyes fluttering close, fingers moving rapidly on your clit.
"Look at me. Ask again."
Your eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Can I-I come?" you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing your urgent desire.
"I can't hear you."
A moan ripped out of you, your body shaking uncontrollably under his gaze. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold on. "P-Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. "Please let me come, I-I can't hold on much longer..."
"Louder," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire, and that was when everything snapped. It was no longer a plea; instead, you were babbling incoherent words, unable to contain the overwhelming need coursing through your body.
"I-I'm s-sorry, I-I can't—" you cried, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.
But it was too late. Your resolve shattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of your desire. With a tear falling down your cheek, you locked eyes with him desperately as your climax crashed over you, consuming you entirely in its wave of ecstasy. It crept up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaked before slamming right into you.
Something in him snapped. Spencer never imagined he would enjoy having this much control over your body, but in this moment, he did. It was twisted, and although a hint of remorse flickered within him, his desire overpowered any sense of guilt.
Even as your body trembled uncontrollably from the intensity of your orgasm, he acted on impulse, flipping you over to lie on your stomach. The shift in position only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal need to dominate and possess you completely.
A moment later his hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack that drew a gasp out of you. He then crawled over you as his knees landed on either side of your thighs, the mattress bowing under his weight. Both of his hands dropped roughly down onto your ass, kneading the soft flesh.
You felt him lining his cock up with your entrance, your eyes closing in anticipation of him filling you. And then he plunged himself into you in one swift, sharp thrust which had your head dropping down into your pillow, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle the cry of pleasure that flew out of you.
He began pumping into you, his pace was slow at first, long strokes of drawing his cock out and back in earning quiet whimpers from you against the pillow. One of his hands released your hip before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling.
"Stop burying yourself," he grunted. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."
You let out a moan, body shaking with every thrust of his hips, the room spinning as he picked up his pace. You felt the slow withdrawal of his cock as his hips drew back from you, but you weren't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into you seconds after while tightening his grip on your hair.
A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you at the feel of it. Encouraged, he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher. You moaned loudly in response, your hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.
"That's my girl," he praised. "Just like that, let me hear how good my cock makes you feel."
Your eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his words, your mouth going slack. Spencer was as loud as you as he repeatedly buried his cock in you over and over again. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had your eyes rolling back behind closed lids, your mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.
He then lowered onto his left forearm as his front molded over your back. The hard, solid feel of him behind you had you pressing back up into him, teeth gritting together as his cock buried itself somehow further inside of you. He released his grip on your hair, his hand swiftly moving to encircle your throat.
A moan escaped your lips as you felt the slight pressure of his grip, a surge of arousal coursing through you. His hand slid up further, encircling the bottom of your jaw as he carefully pulled your head backward, drawing it towards his shoulder until his mouth was beside your ear.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your breath hitched at his proximity, the heat of his body searing against your back as you struggled to form a coherent response. You could only manage a breathless nod in response.
"Let's see how far I can ruin you," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you despite the underlying threat in his words.
As his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips, surrendering completely as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into you. You were panting hard, your head tilted back against his shoulder.
His lips pressed onto the sensitive spot just between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin while he mercilessly fucked you, his sweat-slicked body still flush to the back of you as he continued his fast, relentless pace. You were vaguely aware of his ragged, drawn-out groan and you could tell he was close.
It was evident in the way he was starting to lose control, his grip tightening around your throat as his breath grew hot and heavy against you. He was on the brink of spiraling, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over completely to please him.
"T-That's it, baby," you moaned. "You fuck me so good."
It was enough to make him come undone. He released inside of you, panting and huffing as he gave into the bliss. His motions slowed but he continued spilling inside your drenched walls, sweat beading against his forehead, lips parted, and face flushed. You squeezed yourself around him just to hear him suck in a sharp breath, gulping and exhaling with his brow wrinkled before he pulled out.
But when you thought he was done with you, he flipped you onto your back again. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release. He ran his fingers over your outer lips, spreading you open to have a better view of the white liquid trickling down your ass. He was quick to collect it with his fingers, tracing it up your folds so he could messily rub it over your clit.
"S-Spence..."
Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, yet he didn't mind the mess he made between your legs. "You should see yourself," he muttered. "You're so pretty like this."
And then to your surprise, he positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance again. You gasped, prompting yourself on your elbows as you looked down between your legs, wondering how on earth he was still so hard. Then a moan left your lips as you watched him slowly sinking into you again.
"Look at how I'm stretching you," he murmured, pushing his hips further. Both of your eyes were locked on the way your pussy stretched so wide around his girth. His previous release slipped back inside you every time his cock disappeared into your wet cunt, white cream coating around his length.
He moaned when your walls clenched around him, his eyes flickering between your face and the way his cock was stretching you. Spencer should have stopped. You were both too tired and too sensitive to continue further. Even his body ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward as your walls swallowed his cock eagerly, practically begging for more.
The rational part of his brain urged him to pause, but the primal, carnal desire within him overrode any sense of restraint. Ignoring the way your body shook with exhaustion and the tension in his own muscles, he focused solely on the intense heat between your legs. So he continued to fuck you.
He was fucking you to the point where you couldn't even moan anymore, your voice caught in your throat with each thrust. He was fucking you so good there were tears in your eyes but you couldn't whimper or blink, you were just staring up at him, wordless and in awe, nails digging in his arms while your knees brushed up close to your shoulders.
He was fucking you roughly, dipping down every so often to press his lips to yours, the times he was not whispering encouragement, telling you how pretty you look, how wet you were, how much of a slut you were, and good you felt wrapped around him. And you could feel it, you could feel how good you were as your walls clamped down, sucking him in.
He thrust into you ruthlessly, consumed by a primal need to push you to your limits, to explore just how much you could take of him. Then when you felt that coil spreading along your limbs, you finally came without saying a word. But he didn't stop, continuing to fuck you into your next orgasm, and even when the sensation began to feel too overwhelming, he abused your clit with his thumb.
That was when everything blurred. The overwhelming pleasure finally consumed you entirely, rendering rational thought as a surge of liquid gushed out between your legs. He moaned in surprise at the sensation, his desire only fueled further by your response.
"Do that again," he begged, his voice husky with need as he continued to roll his hips into you. And you did, another wave of pleasure crashing over you as you drenched everything around you—his body, the sheets, every surface within reach. He moaned again, acutely aware of the mess you created.
Your grip on him slowly loosened and a pang of guilt hit him as he realized your body was already exhausted. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to use you once more. Your silence urged him to continue, thrusting into you relentlessly, your slicked-sweat skin sliding against his as he chased his second orgasm of the night.
He finally came with a grunt, his hips pumping into you with desperation, once, twice, before finally stilling. You cried out at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the quickening of his breath, the hard grip of his hand on your skin, the throbbing ache between your legs.
Your vision suddenly became a hazy blur, and you gasped for breath, struggling to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Despite your shaking form, Spencer managed to pull you into his embrace.
“I-I got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of emotions as the rush of dominance that had driven him moments ago was replaced by a wave of panic. He continued to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he whispered soothing words into your ear.
You focused on controlling your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you sought to regain your composure. Gradually, the haze began to lift, and after a moment passed, you found yourself able to see clearly once again. Your eyes traveled to him, and with a tired and sleepy smile, you leaned into his touch.
Spencer released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "We are never doing that again."
"What? Why?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.
"You scared me!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and exasperation. "What if you passed out? What if I had to take you to the hospital and—and explain that—"
"That I passed out because your dick was too good?"
He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're impossible," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You grinned up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gesture. "But you love me anyway."
His smile softened as he gazed down at you. "I do."
"And I love you," you assured him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. And be honest with me, you seriously don't want to do that again? Wasn't that hot?"
His cheeks flushed slightly at your question, and he hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Intense," he finally admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "But maybe we should take it slow next time."
"Spencer, you were the one that kept going."
He gave you a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away a little," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.
“A little?”
“Fine, more than a little,” he confessed. “But you didn't stop me either."
"That's because I was enjoying myself."
His embarrassment faded into amusement. "You're going to be the death of me one day, you know that?"
You grinned playfully at his remark. "Only if you're lucky," you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He studied you, taking in the warmth in your eyes and the happy but serene smile that graced your lips as a surge of affection washed over him. "Then I must be the luckiest man alive."
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kittycandles · 4 months
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Thinking about Simon n Spoiled!reader 🤤
After Simon Riley entered your life, you never put on your own shoes again.
How could you after he spoiled you rotten?
He knew the drill, whenever you got all dolled up ,only leaving out your shoes. You'd sit on the couch or bed and look to him for help. You'd rest the palm of your foot against his abs while he put the shoe on the other foot, fastening it. He'd grab your other foot, swooping down to kiss your ankle before slipping your shoe on.
"There we go, Lovie."
He'd huff, patting your legs to signal he was finished. You'd tug his shirt collar,bringing him close to you, tenderly kissing his scarred and stubbled face that contrasted against your soft plump lips.
"Thank you, Si."
"Of course ,doll."
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mydollish · 26 days
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his looks just add to the appeal 🤤
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xitsensunmoon · 5 months
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I think this is like the most effort I ever put into something that was supposed to be a funny goofy but then turned into me giggling and kicking my feet. I'm in need for soft Moon cuddles, with all his gremlin energy still present...
Close ups, mostly Moon's limbs because I like how they're gripping the net fkdkkd
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And finally the "reference" that started it all lmao😭
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First Night | Wanda Maximoff
Summary: Your first time with Wanda :)
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI), language, age gap (R is 25, Wanda is 38)
Word Count: 4.3K
Masterlist
A/N: This is a Stripper MILF Wanda fic.  It takes place during the events of Woman of the Night.  Welcome to the Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe!  
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Wanda was definitely not expecting to see you standing in her kitchen at midnight cooking pasta, but there was a first time for everything. 
“Oh god,” she gasped, clutching her chest as she saw you standing in the kitchen.
“Hey babe,” you grinned as you stirred the strands of linguini around the sauce pan, mixing it with the marinara sauce you stole from the cupboard.  “How was work?”
“Work was fine how…how did you get in here?” Wanda asked.  She dropped her duffle bag on the ground, trying to figure out both why and how you were standing in the kitchen.
“Oh, I climbed in through the window.  It was unlocked.”
“Okay, but why?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Am I not allowed to make dinner for my girlfriend?” you asked as you turned off the burner, carefully stirring the pasta so as to not spill any over the side of the pan.
“Grateful as I am, sweetheart, it’s midnight.”  She wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as she squeezed you close.
“And?”
“Some of us aren’t in our twenties anymore, Y/N.  Some of us like to be asleep before the sun comes up.”
“Do you at least want some food?  I have to say, I think this is my best pasta yet.”
“I told you I’d have you whipped into shape in no time.  I might not be Italian, but I’m still a pretty good cook if I do say so myself.  The boys haven’t gone hungry yet,” she chuckled, tickling your sides as she squeezed you close.
“Hey now!”  You jumped as she tickled you, whipping the spoon out of the pan and speckling the counter with the red sauce.  “Keep that up and no pasta for you!”
“Oh shut up,” Wanda rolled her eyes as she grabbed the spoon from your hand.  “You’re lucky the boys aren’t home this weekend.  They would’ve ambushed you with their nerf guns if they heard someone break into the house.”
“Well if I actually met them…”
“Y/N, I told you.  Not yet.  It’s too soon.” Wanda’s tone hardened as she dished pasta into her bowl.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.  “I want to meet them, Wanda.  You talk about them so much that I feel like I practically know them!  Besides, I think Tommy needs to have his butt whooped at Mario Kart so he’ll stop being a dick to Billy about it.”
Wanda laughed as she sat down at the table, shaking her head.  It had only been two months since the two of you made your relationship official and neither of you were interested in rushing things, Wanda not wanting to introduce a new man into the boys’ lives so soon and you because this was your first real relationship since high school.  Sure, you dated a girl for a few months your junior year of high school and went out on some random dates throughout college, but you’d never had anything this serious before.  While you enjoyed spending time with Wanda, there was still a lot you’d never experienced and you didn’t want to rush in too fast.
“I know.  You’ll meet them, I promise.  I plan on keeping you around, mister.  We’re a package deal.”  She took a bite of the pasta, blowing on it to cool it off before putting a forkful in her mouth.  “You know, that’s actually not half bad.”
“Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”  Wanda giggled as she helped herself to another bite.
You offered to take the bowl from Wanda once she was done eating, cleaning up and packing away the leftovers as she went to the living room to pick out a show for the two of you to watch.
“Dick Van Dyke again?  Wanda, have you watched any shows from this century?” you asked only half-jokingly as you plopped down on the sofa next to her.
“I need something mindless after work tonight.  And it’s my house so if you don’t like it-”
“Hey, what’s fine with you is fine with me.”  You put your hands up defensively.
“And I wanna be the big spoon, too.”  She reached her arms out to you, practically begging to snuggle you as she laid on the couch.  You chuckled as you curled up into her chest.  As much as you loved holding Wanda, it was nice being held for a change.  She brought you an immense sense of comfort as she wrapped her arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
The titles rolled by, the screen flashing with black and white images.  You felt Wanda’s body soften up as she immersed herself into the distraction of the sitcom world, the stress of the day melting off her.  Try as you might to concentrate on the show, you were distracted.  Wanda’s body was intoxicating.  Once you got a taste of it you didn’t want to stop.  Snuggling up against her, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each breath and the way her heart beat up against it, made you want to lose yourself in her presence.  So as she stared at the screen, you began to tease your fingers up and down her thigh.
“Can I help you?” she laughed as she felt your hand moving on her leg.
“Maybe…” You looked up into her stunning green eyes, her pupils dilating as you trailed your fingers higher up her leg.  You could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she looked down at you.  Using her thigh to push yourself up, you turned your body so that you were face to face with her, your lips mere inches from each other.  As you stared into each other’s eyes, both of you waiting to see who would make the first move, you reached up to cup her face with your hands before leaning in to kiss her.
Kissing Wanda was a religious experience.  Her lips were heavenly, softer than anything you’d ever experienced.  You loved the way she practically melted into you when you captured your lips in hers.  These kisses were soft and sweet.  Her lips were filled with a tenderness that made you weak at the knees.  You felt her smile into you as you explored her, gently nibbling on her bottom lip as you helped her lean back into the pillow.  The TV show was long forgotten as Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close on top of her.  
“Mmmm I missed this,” she sighed as you kissed your way down her jaw to her neck.  You bit down on a sensitive spot, drawing a moan from her as you licked and sucked over the tender point and marked her as yours.  “What are the boys going to think when they see I’ve got a hickey on my neck?”
“That you’re all mine,” you answered.  “All mine.”  You kissed your way back up her neck, working your way to her lips as you took them greedily.  These kisses were different.  They were more passionate, more intense.  You ran your hands up and down Wanda’s back, eventually running them up under her shirt.
“Y/N,” she breathed as she panted for breath.  You barely gave her a second to recover before slamming your lips against hers, brushing your tongue over her bottom lip, begging for permission to explore her mouth.  She enthusiastically obliged, her tongue crashing into yours as you explored each other deeply for the first time.  As you continued to kiss her, Wanda’s hands roamed from your back to your front, trailing down your stomach until they came to your belt.  The feeling of your buckle being undone snapped you back to reality as you abruptly broke away from her.
“Woah, stop, stop,” you said.  Suddenly everything felt too hot and too fast and too much all at the same time.  
Wanda’s eyes grew worried with concern, her brow furrowing as she looked up at you.  “What’s wrong?”
You gulped nervously as you looked down at her, sitting back on your heels to put space between the two of you.  “Nothing.  It’s…nothing, I’m fine.  Sorry.”
“Sweetheart, something’s wrong.  Did I do something?”
“No.  It’s…I, Christ this is so stupid, I’m a…I’ve nev-I’ve never had sex before,” you blurted.  You felt the heat rising in your face as you blushed a deep shade of red.  Wanda’s eyes widened at your revelation.  “I mean I got a one-off handjob from my high school girlfriend when I was sixteen, but that’s it.”
“Oh.” Wanda’s voice was small.  You couldn’t tell what she was thinking exactly as she stared at you.  Her head cocked to the side, a signature sign that she was deep in thought.  
“Sorry.  Umm, you know what?  I’ll just-I’ll just go.  Just forget everything I said, okay?”  You had never felt so humiliated before.  There was no way you could do anything with Wanda now.  You could barely look her in the eye with how embarrassed you felt.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your hand.  “It’s okay.  We can wait until you’re ready.  I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do.  Ever.  I’m not mad or anything.”
“No I want to, I really want to.  I’m just nervous.  I don’t want it to be bad for you.”
Wanda flashed the smile that made you fall even harder for her.  “It’s okay to be nervous.  I haven’t slept with anyone since Vision left so yeah, I’m nervous, too.”
“I, umm, I didn’t bring a condom,” you sheepishly admitted.
“I’ve got some upstairs.”  You let out a small chuckle.  “What?”
“Nothing.  It’s just funny imagining you at the store with your reading glasses on trying to read the descriptions on all of the boxes.”
Wanda rolled her eyes as she sat up.  “You’re adorable.  Now come on, let’s go upstairs.  I am not letting you lose your virginity on this sofa.”
Wanda practically dragged you up to her bedroom and shut the door behind you.  Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the lock click into place.  “Come on,” she whispered as she pulled you to the bed.  “We can do whatever you want.”  Your mouth felt like it was filled with cotton as endless possibilities of what you and Wanda could do together flashed through your brain.  You tried to speak, but nothing came out.  “Can I take your clothes off?”  You nodded enthusiastically.  “Words, sweetheart.  I need you to say it for me.”
“Fuck yes,” you breathed as you pulled your shirt up and off.  She shook her head as her hands reached for your belt.  You grabbed her face and kissed her, pulling her close as you felt your jeans get the slightest bit looser.  As she unzipped them, she made sure to run her hand over your bulge, palming it through your jeans.  You moaned into her mouth at the throbbing sensation that was building in your pants.  
“Nice undies,” she teased.  Horrified, you realized that you were wearing your Pikachu boxer briefs.
“I’m gonna be completely honest, Wanda.  I was not anticipating you seeing me in my underwear tonight.”
“They’re cute, but I think they’ll look cuter on the floor.”  She hooked her thumbs around the waistband, dropping to the floor as she dragged them down your legs.  Your erection, absolutely throbbing, sprang to attention as it was freed from the confines of your clothes.  Standing there completely naked, you suddenly felt the need to cover up.  As Wanda looked up at you from her knees, she sensed your trepidation.  “Do you want to keep going?”
“Yeah, j-just give me a second.”
“Lie down on the bed, okay?  I’ve got an idea.”  You had no idea what Wanda was thinking as you crawled onto the bed.  As you did that, she began undressing herself.
“What are-?”
“Oh look, we’re both naked,” she smirked, tossing her panties behind her.  Your jaw dropped as you saw her naked for the first time.  The sight of her bare breasts in front of you was mesmerizing, as was the rest of her body.  She was a goddess.
“Wow.  Wanda, wow.  You’re gorgeous, baby.”  Wanda blushed a deep crimson as she crawled onto the bed next to you.  
“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome,” she teased.  “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah,” you gulped.  Slowly, Wanda trailed her hand down from your chest down to your stomach and then to your cock, wrapping a loose grip around it.  “Oh fuck,” you groaned.  The sensation of her hand moving up and down your shaft was familiar: you’d jacked off to the thought of her countless times.  But the feeling of someone else’s hand doing it was unreal.
“Somebody’s sensitive.”  Your cock twitched under Wanda’s ministrations, precum leaking from your tip as she used it to lube you up.
“Christ, just blow me already,” you groaned as you threw your head back into the pillow.  The words came from your mouth absentmindedly.  They were crude and vulgar.  In your pleasure-filled haze, you weren’t totally aware of what you were saying.  The second you realized your ask, your face flushed red with embarrassment.  Wanda’s hand stopped abruptly as she looked down at you half-amused.  
“Alright,” she smirked.  Before you knew what was happening Wanda crawled to the other side of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face as she lowered her head.
The feeling of Wanda’s mouth enveloping the entirety of your cock immediately tore a loud groan from your chest.   She swirled her tongue over your head, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock.  Her cheeks hollowed as her head bobbed up and down.  You threw your head back into the pillow again, unable to watch the utterly sinful sight unfolding right in front of you.
“Holy shit,” you gasped.  Cherry red lips closed softly around your head, sucking as she reached down to squeeze your balls.  For a woman who hadn’t been with another man since her husband left, you couldn’t tell that she was out of practice.  Wanda smiled as you whined, your dick hitting the back of her throat.  Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she gagged on your length.  It was undoubtedly the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your entire life.
Your pulse quickened as the ache in your groin grew stronger with every little movement.  The pleasure was dizzying, the familiar coil in your belly growing tighter by the second.  As Wanda worked wonders with her mouth, your body became unrestrained.  You grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down as you thrust your hips into her face.  Drool dripped down your cock as you stuffed your length deep into Wanda’s mouth.  Her eyes screwed shut as she choked and gagged.  You moaned in response, your fingers kneading her fiery red hair.
“Wanda, I’m gonna cum,” you croaked as you felt a blissful warmth spread over your body.  She smirked against your cock as your hips bucked faster.  Her tongue swirled and lapped over every single inch as she enthusiastically massaged the parts left exposed.  Seconds later the coil snapped and your body exploded in ecstasy.  Strands of hot cum shot down Wanda’s throat, which she swallowed greedily.  No drop was left wasted as she released your with a pop, fine strands of saliva and cum connecting her to you.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath.  You closed your eyes as you watched galaxies and explosions appear under your closed lids.  
“Y/N?” You opened your eyes and Wanda’s face was hovering above yours.  
“Yeah?”
“You good?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I regain feeling in my legs,” you joked as you looked up into those adorable emerald eyes.  The beamed as she gazed down at you, caressing your flushed cheek with her soft hand.
“You’re adorable,” she cooed, planting a kiss on your forehead.  “I take it that was better than that handjob from your high school girlfriend?”
“Fuck yes,” you groaned.  Wanda chuckled as she kissed you, her soft lips full of passion and tenderness against your own.
“What now, lover boy?” she teased.
“I wanna taste you,” you breathed, pulling her head to yours before you kissed her softly.  “All of you.”
“Mmmm I like the sound of that,” Wanda giggled against your lips.  She rolled the two of you over, landing on her back as you let the weight of your body rest atop her.  
Your lips collided again and again as the anticipation of what was to come thrummed deep in your soul.  Wanda’s breath was shaky against your own as you slowly teased a hand down her body before resting it in the heat between her legs.
“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear.  Her eyes fixed on nothing on the ceiling, she nodded absentmindedly and reached her hand down to cover yours.  Her long svelte fingers pushed yours over her already swollen clit, circling them gently over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Like that,” she croaked.  You continued the motion as she released you.  Soft whimpers escaped her lips as you focused on circling her clit.  She grabbed onto your biceps, digging her nails into your flesh while you kissed her neck.  “Oh baby that’s it,” she gasped.  “Just a little more pressure and-”  Wanda’s breath hitched as you pushed on her clit.  As you circled it, you heard the lewd sounds of her wetness teasing just how aroused she was.
“Fuck, Wanda.  You’re so wet.”  She groaned as you teased your hand lower, rubbing your fingers through her swollen lips and teasing her slit.
“I want your mouth,” she begged as she grabbed your head and pushed it down your body.  You crawled down her body, kissing every inch of her exposed torso as you slunk down to her pelvis.  She squirmed as you planted hot open mouth kisses over her exposed flesh.  Pressing her thighs apart, you could feel the heat radiating from between them.  
“Wanda, what-?”
“Whatever you want.”  Her voice was dripping with arousal.  You weren’t quite sure where to start as you stared down at her glistening cunt.  Taking a deep breath, you lowered your mouth to her clit.  Your lips encircled the bulbous spot, sucking and licking in a manner similar to the way she sucked your cock.  The loud groan that escaped her lips made you think you were doing something right.  Wanda’s hips bucked against your face as you continued your alternating licking and sucking on her most sensitive spot.
Pushing her thighs down further, you lowered your head, licking a stripe from her clit all the way down her slit.  Her arousal coated your tongue and you found yourself getting drunk on the taste of her.  You teased her slit with your tongue, pressing it as far inside her as you could.
“Shit,” she groaned, grabbing your head and pushing it hard into her pelvis.  You smiled as you lapped at her.  The activity that once filled you with anxiety and hesitation now filled you with a sense of pride as you brought Wanda closer and closer to her orgasm.  “Need something inside,” she mumbled.  Kissing your way back to her clit, you tentatively inserted a finger inside her needy cunt.  She shuddered at the sudden intrusion.  You slowly began thrusting your hand in and out of her tight hole.  “Not like that,” she suddenly grabbed your hand as you pulled out.
“Am I hurting you?” Fear stopped you dead in your tracks as you looked up at Wanda with concern.
“Just curl your fingers, don’t thrust, keep going, I’m so close, baby.”  Wanda was beside herself with pleasure, her body closer to the edge.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just fuck me.”  Wanda shoved your head back down.  You went right to work, rolling her clit around with your tongue as you curled your finger inside.  Her walls tightened around you, making it difficult to move within her.  
“I’m cumming.  Oh, I’m cumming!” Wanda gasped as you felt her walls spasm around your hand.  Her body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook every inch of her.  Loud moans escaped her lips as her eyes screwed shut, her mouth gaping open with unspeakable pleasure.  
As Wanda’s spasms calmed, you pulled out of her.  Her walls squeezed around nothing as it adjusted to the sudden lack of intrusion.  Wanda was flat on her back, completely blissed out at the first orgasm she received at the hands of another person in a very long time.  Masturbation only did so much for her.  The level of intimacy and trust required for someone to bring her to such levels of ecstasy was something on a completely different level.
“Wanda?  Are you okay, babe?”  Her eyes were glazed over as she needed, her hands tracing through your hair.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” 
“I’ll take that as a complement,” you joked before kissing her.  You stared down at her, at the face of the woman you were slowly falling in love with, and wanted nothing more than to make her feel so unbelievably loved.  The face that gazed back up at you mirrored the love and adoration that you felt for her.  For the first time in a very long time, you were grateful for the fact that your first time was with someone who meant so much to you.
“Do you want to keep going?” Wanda whispered, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Mmhmm.  Do you?”  She nodded.  “Where’d you put the condoms?” Wanda motioned to the nightstand next to her.  You pulled the drawer open and grabbed one.  “Umm, I’ve never-”
“That’s okay.  Let me help.”  Wanda grabbed the small wrapper from you, tearing it open before grabbing your already erect cock.  Heart pounding and breath shaking, you watched her roll it down the length of your shaft.  “How’s that?”
“It feels weird, but it’s not too tight or anything like that.”
“Good.”  She readjusted herself on the bed, planting her feet on the bed and bending her knees to give you full access to her already dripping pussy.  “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you nodded.  Positioning yourself over her, you lined your cock up with her entrance.  Your body trembled with anticipation, sweat beading on your forehead as you suddenly felt yourself overwhelmed with nervousness.  Wanda, once again sensing your hesitation, reached down and helped guide you inside her.
Wanda’s pussy was unfathomably warm, wet and tight.  It took all your concentration to not blow your load right then and there.  You groaned as you felt her squeeze gently around you.  “Fuck,” you moaned, burying your head in the crook of her neck.  
“Mmm, you feel so good, Y/N,” she sighed.  It took a moment to get yourself together, but once you did you began to slowly thrust yourself in and out.  Gasps and moans filled the room as Wanda’s drenched cunt squelched with every roll of your hips.
“Wanda,” you groaned.  “Oh, Wanda.”
“Don’t stop, Y/N.  Please don’t stop.”  Wanda’s mewls spurred you on.  You pushed yourself up, leaning over her as you filled her up at a faster pace.  The bed groaned under your exertion.
“Baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you gritted through clenched teeth.  The newness of being engulfed inside Wanda’s velvety walls was driving you to the end far faster than you wanted.
“That’s okay,” she breathed.  “Just keep going.  I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.”  
Wanda’s words ignited a primal fire inside you.  Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, you bore down on your efforts.  Your hips bucked wildly into Wanda.  She moaned as you buried yourself deep inside her, filling her cunt in all the right ways as she began rubbing circles around her swollen clit.  The bed creaked as you fucked her relentlessly.  The faster your hips moved, the hotter the fire in your belly burned until you realized you were dangerously close to the point of no return.
“I’m gonna-” You were interrupted by Wanda reaching her free hand up to your neck and pulling you down to capture your lips in hers.  As she kissed you passionately, you tumbled over the edge again.  Her lips stifled your moan as you filled the condom with your seed.  The feeling of your erection throbbing inside her, coupled with her hand on her clit, sent Wanda over the edge as she practically screamed through her orgasm.  Her walls squeezed you tightly.  You were practically seeing stars.
“Oh fuck.  Wanda.  Fuck, oh fuck.  Oh God, Wanda,” you panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm worked their way through your body.  Your pants turned into laughs as she began laughing with you.
“Was that okay?” Wanda asked with a chuckle.
“Okay?  I don’t think ‘okay’ is the word I used to describe what just happened.”
“You have a better word, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know.  All I know is that I love you,” you mumbled absentmindedly as you collapsed onto her sweaty body.
“...What?”
“I…sorry, is it too soon?  Did I just make this weird?”  Wanda answered with a searing kiss, the corners of her mouth curved upward as she grabbed your face.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she sheepishly admitted, her face flushing bright crimson.  
“God, I love you, Wanda.  I love you so much.”  Your last sentence was interrupted with kisses between every word.
“I love you, too, Y/N.  Don’t ever let me go.” 
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izukuszn · 4 months
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“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 
“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 
“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 
“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 
“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 
Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 
“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 
He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 
You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 
“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.
He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 
“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 
You sigh, “Will you now?”
You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 
“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”
You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  
“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 
He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.” 
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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months
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Unexpected Visitor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader
WC: 788
A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.
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"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .
Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.
He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"
You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."
"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.
You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"
"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."
"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.
"y/n?"
You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"
"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."
Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.
"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.
"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"
"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."
"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--
"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.
"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"
"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."
"Oh how is Jack!"
"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."
You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--
"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"
"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."
"W-Well, um--"
"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.
"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.
"I think today is their two year anniversary."
"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"
"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."
"No we clearly do not know Hotch."
Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."
As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."
"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"
"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."
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httpwintersoldier · 6 months
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opla men hc || when there's sexual tension between you and them
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ᴢᴏʀᴏ ; ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ ; ʟᴜғғʏ ; sᴀɴᴊɪ ; sʜᴀɴᴋs ; ʙᴜɢɢʏ ᴄᴡ: ɴᴏ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄs
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ᴢᴏʀᴏ
⤷ zoro can't place a finger on what it is he's feeling, he just knows he's feeling something
⤷ and that something substantially increases when you're near
⤷ it especially increases when you wear tight clothes and little dresses
⤷ it wasn't until you placed a hand on his thigh and got him thinking where he really wanted that hand that he pieced everything together
⤷ he would try to calm himself down and ignore the feeling but he would eventually just give up
⤷ zoro wouldn't talk to you or confront you about the issue - that's not his style
⤷ the swordsman would just touch you a little more and a little closer to the places he shouldn't have his eyes on
⤷ and eventually you'd give in and make a move - he would definitely make you think the whole thing was your idea, that he hadn't been teasing on purpose you for the longest time
⤷ "you're better than I've been imagining..."
ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ
⤷ he's a very intense person, and he gets what he wants
⤷ so when he set his eyes on you and felt the heavy air in the room whenever you two were together he knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you
⤷ but mihawk wanted to see you work for it
⤷ he would touch you and whisper in your ear, he would say things in a sexual manner on purpose to get you to blush while thinking improper things in front of him
⤷ mihawk would only be satisfied when you were desperate and begging for him, even if that meant he had to wait - he was a masochist, that was for sure
⤷ "when you're ready to beg for me I'd be more than delighted to bend you over on this table and fuck you"
ʟᴜғғʏ
⤷ luffy, like zoro, wouldn't really know what the funny feeling he got in his body when he was around you meant
⤷ but one sure thing was that he always felt like something pulled him towards you whenever you entered the room
⤷ he wouldn't be able to stop himself from touching you, sometimes inappropriately
⤷ luffy and social cues weren't a match, so whenever he'd feel like it he would sneak his arms around you and grab your tits, or sneak his hand up your skirt when he got a peek of your ass
⤷ and you didn't stop him, of course
⤷ you'd scold him in a pathetic attempt to pretend you somehow disliked it, but the combo of his innocent face and dirty hands roaming your body excited you
⤷ "but y/n your tits are so soft... and it makes me feel good when I touch you"
sᴀɴᴊɪ
⤷ sanji swears up and down that he has a connection with everyone - but he swears just as hard that it's different with you
⤷ you even begin to think that you might be the only person on the face of the earth sanji didn't flirt with
⤷ what you didn't know was that sanji's head was so occupied with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to you that any and every word meant for you would get stuck in his throat
⤷ it would get to the point where you'd actually go and ask him
⤷ and boy would sanji have to restrain himself
⤷ seeing you all sweet, shy and adorable... looking at the ground as you asked if he disliked you, just basically yearning for his approval... it took everything in him not to fuck you dumb in the very hallway you stood
⤷ "oh chéri, you've got it all wrong... it's not that I hate you, it's that I really want to fuck you"
sʜᴀɴᴋs
⤷ your and shanks' sexual tension would be there from day one
⤷ when he wants something, he wants it - and he gets it
⤷ it was just a matter of when you'd give in and let him fuck you
⤷ but shanks was subtle, he wanted you to want him, shanks would never ask someone to fuck him, let alone beg - he would work his magic and the people he wanted would come crawling
⤷ you were no different
⤷ it would start with small touches that would progressively get more and more bold - the hand on the small of your back would brush past your ass when he passed by, the kisses on the cheek as a greeting were so close to your lips he might as well just kiss you and half of the things shanks told you were whispered in your ear, with a hand holding your jaw
⤷ you'd find yourself leaning more and more into his touch, slowly yearning that his actions became more bold, that shanks would grab your ass, that he'd make out with you and that he'd put his pretty mouth to good use somewhere else
⤷ "Come take a seat on my lap, princess, you might want to extend your stay on it and all... just not with any clothes on"
ʙᴜɢɢʏ
⤷ unlike most above, buggy does not beat around the bush
⤷ when he wants something he wants it in that moment and it will either happen the good way or the bad way
⤷ but this time he was sure the glances you stole and the way your hand would brush past several of his body parts was not a coincidence, and that the heavy air wasn't humidity - you definitely wanted him too
⤷ buggy would smack your ass and squeeze your body as you passed by, hissing when you teased him back
⤷ he didn't care if people saw it, he wanted to feel you and he was going to feel you until he got you alone so he could fill you up - and he was impatient
⤷ "if you're not in my room tonight I will find you and fuck you wherever you are, and whoever is nearby will be our audicence. I'm sure they will enjoy your pretty noises"
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jazzmasternot · 2 months
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Vox came to me in a dream and told me to post this.
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nereidprinc3ss · 21 days
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we��ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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